Ima medical center of winter haven
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2010.02.03 15:03 ipit2007 Food for health and healthy cooking
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2023.06.05 15:38 Guilty_Chemistry9337 File 001- The Burnt Figure
On the morning of December 8th, 1941, enlistment offices all across the United States began to be filled by young men eager to enact revenge for what the Empire of Japan had done at Pearl Harbor. The offices would stay busy for a long, long time. It was a dangerous job, with life and limb at serious risk, and many more young men would join the Army and Navy by conscription. Lesser celebrated, and likely they’d have it no other way, were whole second armies of support personnel. These would be nurses, middle-aged clerks too old and or fat to fight, surveyors, engineers, and merchant sailors.
Some would be spies or intelligence men working for the Office of Strategic Services. Others were mysterious ne’er-do-wells, scoundrels who were very good at the procurement of various goods. Some would be anthropologists and translators, eager to help obscure native communities deal with the technologically advanced war tearing the island worlds asunder. Some would be entertainers for the USO, there to help with morale, doing what they were best at, whether it was telling jokes or dancing beautifully. Others might be war correspondents, to communicate, in a highly censored way, what was going on to the folks back home. Then there were the bean counters. Everybody overlooked the bean counters.
Many of the combat veterans, and even some of the non-combat personnel, would never make it home again. Others made it home, but only after being maimed and scarred in body and mind. Yet most would make it home. All of them would have stories to tell, though many would never tell their stories. There was a culture of silence during the war, ‘loose lips sink ships.’ It wasn’t just a catchy phrase, people took it to heart. It became a habit. Even long after the war was over people kept their lips zipped shut.
And yet, there were still millions and millions of stories, and some of them would be recorded. They might be memoirs committed to paper years later. Then again, many of these people kept diaries. They would write home every chance they get. Officers as a regular part of their duties were constantly writing up reports. Every single one would end up being read by someone, somewhere, and passed up the chain depending on its importance, or filed away if the chain ended there. With every battle won or lost, extensive analyses were conducted on what went right and what went wrong, and how we could do better. Actions of bravery were written up for recommendations for medals or promotions. Every serious infraction meant a court-martial, and court martials left transcripts. Bitter denouements and protests were written when it was felt officers weren’t living up to their duties, and in these cases, the lips were zipped especially tight, but the reports themselves were poured over. Every location where the U.S. went, whether it was the location of a battleground, a ranging area for artillery, site for a depot, or a road used to transport was thoroughly mapped and described in detail.
Then there were the bean counters. How many 20 mm shells does it take, on average, to knock down a Val dive bomber? How many pints of A-positive blood should be stocked in a forward field hospital? How many gallons of ice cream are needed to keep a company of Marines in good fighting spirit? The bean counters might not know, but they recorded everything down just in case you wanted to sift through the data, and a lot of people did. The data would end up having a massive contribution to the war effort.
Last were two groups of material that were never meant to see the light of day. The sort of thing that ought to be recorded, but then hidden away only for the purview of top men. The first is information you might expect would cause classification or a cover-up. Disastrous friendly fire incidents. Accusations and or confessions of war crimes. State secrets involving intelligence on enemies and allies both.
Then there’s the other tranche of material. The stuff that defies explanation. Secrets from the hidden corners of the earth that were never meant to be revealed until some young farmboys from a country far away showed up in places where they were never supposed to be.
The following provides an example.
Excerpts from the personal diary of Second Lieutenant Yvette Morgan, Army Nursing Corps, 231st Hospital Group, Normandy region of France, July and August 1944. Aged 20 at the time of writing.
Note: Most American personnel in WWII were restricted from keeping personal diaries for counterintelligence purposes. It was not uncommon that this restriction was flaunted, particularly among personnel with the luxury of a little bit of privacy. Lt. Morgan seems to have understood the purpose of the restriction, and so the redactions in the following excerpts are her own. A careful eye will note she’s made a couple of errors, which is why censorship should be left to the professionals.
July 30th, 1944- Just got off the truck and finally made it back ‘home.’ Just spent all ‘day,’ helping set up the field hospital. We’ve commandeered a high school in the little town of St. A. I think it’s going to work out pretty well. There’s a gym with a tall ceiling and high windows, which means good natural lighting, so we’re setting that up as an operating room. We’ve got about six beds in each classroom, which is just about the number you’d like. The corridors are nice and wide enough to handle gurneys, and there’s plenty of room out front for the ambulances. I don’t think we could have found a better location outside of a purpose-built actual hospital.
The real work starts tomorrow. Well, today, I guess. They ought to be taking patients right about the time I’m writing this. I drew the short stick, and now I’m stuck with the overnight shift. That’s my luck for you. Back home that would have meant at least it would be pretty quiet, but I don’t think that’s going to apply to this kind of duty.
“Home” is actually this nice little old cottage they’ve set me up with, and four other girls. It’s in the tiny commune of L. It’s actually about ten miles from the hospital, not far from the sea. Every shift they’re going to drive us back and forth in these trucks. Seems like an awful waste of gasoline to me, but what do I know? The whole reason they’re doing this is because the hospital’s technically in range of German artillery, and they like to keep staff like us out of harm's way when we’re not needed. I suppose we won’t be in range much longer anyway. That said, Capt. G says the front line’s been stalled out for a while. He says it’s slow going with all these enormous hedgerows they grow everyplace around here. I never knew they could grow so big, they must be hundreds of years old. I thought the poplar windbreaks they started growing back home after the Dust Bowl were impressive, but they’ve got nothing on these things. We can still hear the guns, though. They’re a long way off, and kind of sound like thunder, though you can tell they’re not because the sky is perfectly clear. At least, I hope, they’re mostly our guns.
The morning’s still a little chilly, but it promises to be a warm day. I’m going to have to get used to sleeping through it. After long last summer is really here. The cottage itself is lovely. I can’t help but wonder about the people who really make this home. There’s a delightful flower garden in front and just the most precious herb garden right outside the kitchen window. When I get married and we have a home, I’m going to insist on one just like it.
The other girls? Well, what can I say. 5 of us all sharing this little place, at least we’ll be working different shifts mostly. I’m sure we’ll get by swimmingly.
July 31st- Just got back and finished breakfast for dinner. Part of me still wishes I were at work. If I were at a civilian hospital I still would be. Funny how the military insists on sticking to the scheduled shift and they order me to go home and get some sleep. I might get used to such regimentation.
I say this as if I’m not completely exhausted and overwhelmed. I’m sure I’ll sleep tonight. Today, whatever. As I’d suspected, we had our first wounded in during the morning shift. Most of them had been through the Mobile Advanced hospital and had been at least looked over by a doctor. Plenty had already gone through an initial surgery, just to stabilize them, close gaping wounds, and tie off arteries. It was really crude stuff, but I suppose that’s the point. Our doctors opened them back up and fixed them up properly. There were a few walking wounded, shrapnel wounds, and nasty burns we were able to help out too. I feel glad to be part of such a great team. I spent the first half of my shift assisting in two different surgeries. Then the last half attending the wards.
I had hoped that would be more peaceful. Our boys are so brave, even when you can tell they’re really broken up over what they’ve been through. And yet it wasn’t meant to be.
I mentioned that St. A.’s was within range of German artillery. Well, there was an attack last night, early this morning, I’m still not used to the schedule. They didn’t hit the hospital. They hit the other side of town. It was loud enough to shake all of the windows, and even the ground shook. It scared the daylights out of me. Some of the boys yelled too. A couple of them fell out of their beds and tried to hide underneath. I can’t imagine what it would be like to go through that a second time, let alone time after time, day after day like our boys.
I was just starting to get things settled down and everything squared. Then there was commotion. A bunch of orderlies, then nurses, then doctors running around the front main hall. We were expecting wounded. They’d hit an old medieval church on the other side of town. The Church of Saint Adalthred. There had been a platoon of soldiers sleeping there. Now they were bringing the survivors in.
I had never done triage before, though I remembered my training. You divide the patients into three groups. The group that needs surgery absolutely immediately if they’re going to live. The group that can wait for surgery. And then there’s the group that will die regardless.
There were two young men that were in the last group. The first had a massive open head wound. The strange thing was he was perfectly conscious and capable of speaking, despite the injury. There was just nothing that we could do for him. He was alert for about an hour, and then he simply passed away. Is it horrible to think that was something of a mercy?
The other suffered terrible burns, and apparently some of the blast as well. After the triage, I was assigned to care for him. The doctor had estimated over 90 percent of his body suffered burns in the third degree. The kind of amount that really makes you question your faith. I’ve seen burn patients, but not when they get first arrive like this. His eyes and ears were gone. A strange thing was, he wasn’t screaming like we’d expect burn patients to do. The doctor said his vocal cords were burnt out, but his lungs were relatively free of smoke damage, and he didn’t have that horrible cough. The doctor said it was like “he’d inhaled flame.” He was simply silent. He’s not expected to last the night. Day, I mean. I suppose I won’t see him again. I suppose that’s mercy too.
I mentioned yesterday that I think a school building serves as a fine hospital in a pinch. I’m not sure about that anymore. It’s the ventilation. There isn’t any in the school. Fumes from the ether linger everywhere. So does the stink of infection, no matter how much we fight it. And that last patient. It was like he was roasted. Literally. I thought I’d be sick.
August 1st- The truck ride back is starting to become my favorite part of the day. This one was a long one, despite being the exact same length as all the other shifts. We’re really packed now. The minute we get one patient ready for transport back to England, another takes his bed. They say the war might be over before Christmas. I hope. Don’t know how I’ll be able to keep up this pace for so long.
The little old priest whose church got blown up by the Germans came around to volunteer at the hospital. Poor old thing has nowhere else to go. He’s helping us roll bandages, working the autoclaves, and helping the chaplain out with the prayers. He seems to be helping with morale, god bless him. Particularly the chaplain’s. The priest doesn’t speak English and the chaplain doesn’t speak French, but they both speak Latin well enough to get by. I’ve never heard it spoken before. I grew up Lutheran, and it seems so strange. I’m a long way from home.
The burn patient is still alive. I was really surprised when I got in and found out. Apparently so are the doctors. Of course, I’m attending him again and was asked to change his bandages. Most of the rest of his skin that hadn’t already sloughed off last night did so while I was changing them. I didn’t see any sign of infection yet, though of course, we all know what’s coming. Other than that there wasn’t much I can do. He’s started letting off this low moan. The doctor said he was not really conscious. I can’t imagine he would be, he’s still getting so much morphine.
He was already bleeding through before my shift ended, so I thought I’d do the next shift a favor and take care of it a second time on the same shift. This time the doctor had me place his arms over his chest and belly, and bandage them all together. Also, he had me bandage his legs together. The doctor said that if there’s a miracle and somehow he manages to pull through, it will be because he somehow beat the infection. And if he’s going to have any chance at all then we’ll need to minimize his contact with bandages until can receive grafts. When I was done he ended up looking like a mummy, right out of the pictures. I don’t think it will matter much, and neither does the doctor. But we have to keep trying.
August 2nd- Just got back. The burn victim is still alive. It’s so strange. It’s all I can think about now. When I first got in I went straight to his room. I was absolutely shocked, it was gruesome. His bandages were positively soaked through. There was more red than white. I was just about to chew out the girl on the shift before me. I thought that nobody had changed the bandages since my last shift, but then she told me that she’d just changed them two hours previously. I couldn’t make head or tales of it. So I just got to work changing them myself. It felt so odd, the way the other patients in the room were looking at us. Like they knew there was something off about the whole thing. The patient’s moaning is getting louder too. It must be so unnerving to the others sharing the room.
Then, of all things, Maj. P and Col. S came in to observe. I haven’t seen either of them since we started setting up the hospital. They don’t usually stay up so late. They were washed up and decided to help me bandage the patient. As if they weren’t just there to observe me, but wanted to be a part of it too.
Sure enough, after only a couple of hours, the bandages were soaked through again. I’ve never seen such terribly bleeding. I asked the doctor if it could have possibly been hemophilia. It’s something I’ve only heard about but haven’t seen. He only shook his head like he was sure that it wasn’t. Yet he also looked even more confused than I was. We’ve been giving the patient transfusions. But at this rate, I just don’t know where it’s all coming from.
I know I shouldn’t be writing this sort of thing down, but the doctor confided that he’s thinking of reducing the morphine, maybe the patient will be more lucid. I don’t know how the doctor expects him to communicate with his vocal cords destroyed, or what he could possibly have to say even if he could talk. Well, it’s not my place to decide. I think he knows more about what’s happening to the poor man than I do.
It was all just blood too. In the bandages. No pus at all. I don’t know how he’s not becoming infected.
August 3rd- There’s a great deal of strangeness happening at the hospital. I saw the General’s staff car the moment our truck pulled around to drop us off, the little flags on the front gave it away.. Instead of starting my shift, they asked me to come back to Col. S’s office. My first thought was that I was in trouble, and they’d somehow find this diary. Both Maj. P and Col. S. were there, along with Gen C. who’d driven down from Corps HQ with a couple of his staff. There were also two men from what might have been regular Army, except they wore two long dark coats. I didn’t get their names.
Apparently, they’d all been there for hours and were wanting to debrief me. Well, it sure was intimidating, but they just wanted me to tell them what I’d seen. Fair enough. The patient was burned all over his body. He probably should have died the first night but hasn’t. There’s an awful amount of bleeding which I can’t account for. There’s also no pus or smell of infection, which also didn’t make sense. I told them about how he’s been given large amounts of morphine, though I didn’t say what Cap. H had said about reducing it. No, he had never been capable of speaking since brought in. No, he hadn’t been wearing his dog tags, but between the blast, and the length of time he’d been burning, he must have stripped everything off. Surely they were back in the rubble of that church. Then they thanked me and told me I could go back to work.
Well, I’d just about had it. I stood up and demanded that if they knew something about my patient that they weren’t telling me and that if they did I could take better care of him, well then they had better tell me. I think I even swore though I didn’t mean to. Maj. P almost laughed and Col. S just gave me that stupid patronizing smile. Told me I was already doing everything that I could, and that they were proud of me. He’s a good man, but I’m getting really sick of this Army “that’s on a need-to-know basis” crap.
Rest of the shift was just the usual. Strange how it's become the norm now. No, there was something else. The burn patient was in his room by himself. They’d moved the other beds out. They didn’t tell me why. Probably because his moan’s getting worse. And raspier. I still don’t think he’s out of the morphine stupor though.
Alright, it’s later the same day, the second. I’ve just woken up and had a serious chat with Kathy, the nurse from the second shift, and she’s had a lot to talk about. Rumors are swirling. I don’t know how much of this is true. My gut instinct? It’s all true.
Those men in the long coats? The rumor is they were Army Intelligence. That didn’t make a lick of sense to me at first, but then it started to come together. It turns out there were supposed to be 30 men, including the C.O., in that church that night it got shelled. Nobody else. Except when they added up all the survivors (who’ve moved on to the front), all the wounded that were taken to our hospital, and those who died, which took a while to count, then it all added up to 31 men. So somebody was there who wasn’t supposed to be there, and nobody knows who it is. They think they’ve got all of the dog tags accounted for, which might have been why they asked me about it when I came in later that night. And the one person they can’t account for seems to be the burn victim.
So they didn’t know who it was. Nobody from the St. A.’s was missing. None of the French Resistance were around that night (apparently Intelligence asked them? How else would they know?). So it's really suspicious and they were worried he might be some kind of spy or infiltrator. They still don’t even know why that church was shelled in the first place.
So they started asking questions of that poor old priest who’s been volunteering. We know because they let the chaplain sit in with him, but it seems both of the intelligence guys spoke fluent French. They asked him if there were any kind of acolyte or initiate or whatever sort of junior clergy he might have could have been there. He said no, and anybody who might have was accounted for and healthy. He asked if there was anything valuable that could have been stolen, or maybe he feared could be looted (would our boys do that?). Well, he didn’t think so. There was the holy font, which was an antique, but there were many like it and it was hardly easy to move. There was the Bible at the altar. It was very old and had great sentimental value, but again it would have no value to thieves. There was the tomb of St. Adalthred himself, which was priceless to his community but was a part of the church itself. Why the church had been built in the first place. Impossible to steal.
Then they asked the priest to come and view the patient. Perhaps seeing his proportions, perhaps it might have helped him recollect a similar person he’d seen lately. I understand why they did it. He, the burn victim, does seem shorter than any soldier I’ve met, skinner too. I wish they hadn’t, though. The chaplain said the priest had cried over seeing all those bloody bandages. There wasn’t a point, because the priest said he didn’t recognize him. The strange thing was, the chaplain had said that the priest's behavior seemed really strange. Like they got the really strong sense that the priest was being cagey, and lying to them. Not that he recognized the figure per se, but that he was thinking of something that he wasn’t telling them. He also insisted on saying a prayer over the burnt figure before he left, and they let him.
When I asked why they’d moved all the other beds in the room, Kathy said a little while after the priest had left the burn victim had started screaming, really bad. The other patients asked if they could leave the room, and because of the mystery, Col. S. agreed to it so they could isolate the burnt man. He was only calmer when I arrived later because they’d given him more morphine. When Kathy told me how much my jaw hit the floor. That part has to be baseless rumor.
August 8- I’m back in England. I’ve been too worked up to write, and worried, of course. After it happened, they put me in a truck, drove me to L. to pick up my things, and then I was on a Skytrain back to Cornwall. I guess we stopped at the cottage as a courtesy, it was on the way to the airfield. I was worried they’d find this diary, but they never searched. I don’t think they know what to do with me. I’m not sure what they should do either. They might just send me home, I suppose. I wouldn’t protest that. I just want to get on with things.
So. That night. The 4th.
I’ll start when I get off the truck. That moment when you hit the ground after jumping out of the bed is so sharp like it just sets your whole day. Like a starter pistol at a race. Something about it seemed off just as I was walking towards the door. Now I get in, and the front gallery, ever since that night of the triage, is a pretty empty place. But somebody was waiting for me, and it was Col. S. He came right up to me the moment he saw me. What an upside-down experience.
He starts leading me down the side hall, towards the back of the hospital/school where his office was. So of course I expected he needed to talk to me about something in his office. Only it turned out it wasn’t his office anymore. I thought something was off when I saw two armed guards on either side of the door to his often. Almost as soon, I heard the screaming.
I have just enough time to puzzle together what’s happened when Col. S walks right in, me in tow. They’d moved the burn patient to Col. S’s office, and he’d cleared out. The reason was obvious. The patient was screaming. Really, really loud. It hurt my ears in such a small office. The office was as about as far removed from the rest of the patients as they could move him. His bandages were soaked through, totally bright red. Jet red? Is jet red a thing? If you saw him, you’d say it was. It looked like they had been in the middle of starting to change his bandages, or just about to finish. Because there were parts of his flesh that were exposed. I didn’t realize it at first, and could only tell because of the texture.
I was just staring at him for a while. Jaw wide open. Then I looked at Col. S. He had been watching my reaction. He had such a sympathetic look. I asked him “How long has he been like this?”
“For hours,” he said. Like he was apologizing.
“How much morphine did you give him?” I asked. He was a doctor in his own right, of course. He didn’t get a chance to perform much surgery now that he’s the administrator, but I don’t think that ever leaves you.
He looked like he was about to cry.
“Lethal?” I asked.
“More,” he whispered.
We stood there silent for a few moments. Then he explained the situation. The only people allowed in the room would be doctors. Myself, and he explained I was the nurse with the most experience with him, and that I was the one he trusted the most. I’d have no other duties this shift. The chaplain was allowed in, and the priest. Also, the two guards out front, and that was it. He told me “The men from intel will be back, and a couple of spooks. We’ll figure it out then.” I had no idea what he meant by that, but I just nodded.
Well, the chaplain was there, though he looked a total mess. And it turned out the priest had stayed late but had gone home, exhausted.
So I did my duties. Changed bandages. Changed IV bottles. There were two chairs in the room, one for me and one for the chaplain. With only the one patient sometimes I’d wait. We couldn’t really chat. The screaming was too loud. I don’t think either of us got used to it.
I suppose it was about 3 AM. Mom used to call that the witching hour. Around three it started to change. The screaming that is, the cadence of it. Is that the right word? He started screaming words. Very garbled, but words. That was when I remembered the doctor had said his vocal cords had been destroyed. Had he been wrong? It had to be. Both I and the chaplain were standing over him then. The chaplain whispering prayers. Sometimes we’d look at each other like maybe the other knew what was happening. There were no answers.
The words started getting clearer. Not that we understood them, but they kind of sounded like they were French. Both I and the chaplain thought he, the patient, was becoming lucid. The chaplain opened up the door and told the guards to get the colonel, also to send somebody to find the priest. I suppose anybody could have translated, or so I thought at the time, but getting the priest sounded right.
Well, the colonel wasn’t in, but Maj. P. was. He spoke a little French, but he couldn’t understand the words. I’m still glad he was there. As a witness. I’m glad me and the chaplain weren’t the only ones. It was like the patient was chanting.
It was, maybe ten minutes after the major arrived. The screaming just stopped. No words. Just heavy breathing. Hyperventilating maybe. It occurred to me then that the bandages had become soaked through again. I’d been there the whole time. Watching. Only now had I noticed. He was glistening. The bedding was bloody too, of course. It was everywhere. And then…
Then it happened.
I had been facing another direction. But there was a sound. Like a massive, loud inhalation of are. There was this bright light, like when a lightbulb is about to short out. Except I felt the heat, and I turned. The patient had burst into flames.
I screamed. I think the chaplain and major did too. The two guards ran in. Maybe they sent somebody else to fetch the priest. They just yelled and weren’t able to do anything else. In a normal circumstance, I think somebody would have fetched an extinguisher. Except the patient suddenly sat straight up in his bed. We were positively paralyzed. He was screaming again, and all we could do is watch. His bandages and bedding all burned away. Only then he stopped.
There was this man before us. He had no skin. No eyes. Glistening red, and patches of black where the ash still clung to him. He looked at us. Looked at me. There were two black holes in his face, above the hole for his nose, and his mouth, lips burned away and teeth missing. But the holes for his eyes… I could feel him looking at me despite having no eyes.
Then he spoke. It was French again, at least I thought. I couldn’t understand it. Full sentences. Raspy, but clear. No sign of pain or duress. Yet it was authoritative like he was in full command of his faculties.
I don’t think it lasted long before the priest came rushing in. The priest said something like “sortie” and then the Major told us to get out, the chaplain and I.
We did and closed the door behind us. The two guards were further down the hall, clearly rattled.
We could hear the priest and the burned man talking. Clearly, through the door. The burned man was distinguishable by the rasp in his voice, the commanding tone. Yet as we listened, there was something off. The burned man’s French was different than the priest’s French. It was like they didn’t understand each other. It was like they were speaking two different dialects, and I didn’t realize until I heard them both being spoken next to each other.
There was a pause of silence. And then the priest started speaking in Latin. I saw a look of relief on the chaplain’s face when the burned man responded, also in Latin.
The two spoke, the burned man and the priest. They went on and on, me not understanding any of it. The burned man seemed to calm, the priest becoming more anxious as they went. Then I turned to the chaplain again. His attention was totally focused on the closed door, but he was listening to the priest and the burned man talk.
He was shaking, and pale as a ghost. I’ve seen men shake. I’ve seen them shake from the effects of blood loss and shock. I’ve seen them shake because they’ve been mad from war. I’ve seen them shake from hypothermia and hypoglycemia and drug overdoses. I’ve seen no end of fear in their eyes. Fear as they’re going under anesthesia, or having their limbs removed, or knowing they’re about to die from their wounds.
I’ve never seen a man so afraid or shaken than that chaplain on that night. And all because he was able to follow that conversation in Latin.
The door suddenly opened. The priest waved us aside, looking more determined than I’d ever seen him. We pressed ourselves against the wall to get out of the way. The burned man followed him. Silent. Walking. We watched them walk down the hallway. The guards turned and fled. Then the priest and the burnt figure turned the corner, and that was the last that I saw of them.
I remember looking back into the room and seeing the Major, slumped in a chair, hands covered his face. The smoke from the burning bandages and bedding still hung in the air, sweet and strong and foul due to the lack of ventilation.
The two men in the long coats showed up. There were also a couple of men in suits. Civilians, I guess. They sort of took charge. Then they just put me on a truck, didn’t even ask me any questions.
And that’s what happened.
I’ve been on this base for a couple of days. They seem to be giving me a lot of freedom, they let me go into town yesterday. I went to a library. It wasn’t a very big one, but I guess it didn’t need to be. I found a hagiography. Or, I guess, a sort of encyclopedia on the subject of saints.
There was a very small entry on the subject of Saint Adalthred. Very little was known about him. He’d been a saint in early medieval France. He’d preached to royalty. The Marrowvingians I think it said, I don’t know what that is. Like all saints, he’d performed three miracles. Like all saints, he’d been martyred. He’d been burned at the stake. His last miracle had been his own resurrection.
I don’t know what to do with this diary. I never should have started it, and yet I think it’s important that I did. I think I’m going to turn myself in and give it to them. I suppose they’ll court-martial me over it, send me home. I don’t want to go home, but maybe I deserve it. At any rate, clearly, there are higher powers than me at work here.
-End copy.-
All of the documentation by the U.S. during the war was massive. All of the officers, nurses, spies, bean counters, and everybody else contributed to the pile. This was long before the digital age, or even microfiche, so the sheer scale of the paperwork is hardly conceivable. It could have been measured by the cargo holds of liberty ships.
After the war, the Army and Navy needed someplace to store it all. Any of it could have had unforeseen value, and destroying it was never an option. In 1951, with the Korean War raging and threatening to exacerbate the document problem, the Department of Defense decided to build a massive new warehouse archive to store it all. In 1956, the Military Personnel Records Center was finished. Ostensibly the archive was meant to store personnel records, but the military being the military, and the warehouse being of such a huge scale, it housed other records as well. Records such as the nurse’s diary, records of things unnatural. Supernatural. Only to be seen by top men.
One of the items discussed during the facility’s construction was the inclusion of a sprinkler fire prevention system. There was a concern that such a system could leak, and cause water damage to all the important documents. So the archive was built without one.
In 1973 the building burned down, taking millions of documents with it. The cause was never officially determined. At the time, and for many years after, the biggest problem was the bureaucratic nightmare it caused for millions of veterans and collecting the benefits they were entitled to.
To a very small community, namely us, the damage was a travesty. That’s the purpose of this project. To retrieve the documentation, study, and catalog it, this entry is only the first example. Naturally, the question arises- how do we retrieve these files if they were all destroyed in the fire? Well, that’s on a need-to-know basis, Lieutenant, and you don’t need to know.
Author's Notes: The War Files is meant to be an on-going series of horror stories set in and around WWII, and the very real Archive Fire. Maybe it would make a good podcast? This was sort of a pilot episode and thought it would fit the theme of this month's event. If you liked the story and want to read more, I'll probably post them either to my subreddit EBDavis or my substack ebdavis.substack.com
submitted by Guilty_Chemistry9337 to Odd_directions [link] [comments]
Some would be spies or intelligence men working for the Office of Strategic Services. Others were mysterious ne’er-do-wells, scoundrels who were very good at the procurement of various goods. Some would be anthropologists and translators, eager to help obscure native communities deal with the technologically advanced war tearing the island worlds asunder. Some would be entertainers for the USO, there to help with morale, doing what they were best at, whether it was telling jokes or dancing beautifully. Others might be war correspondents, to communicate, in a highly censored way, what was going on to the folks back home. Then there were the bean counters. Everybody overlooked the bean counters.
Many of the combat veterans, and even some of the non-combat personnel, would never make it home again. Others made it home, but only after being maimed and scarred in body and mind. Yet most would make it home. All of them would have stories to tell, though many would never tell their stories. There was a culture of silence during the war, ‘loose lips sink ships.’ It wasn’t just a catchy phrase, people took it to heart. It became a habit. Even long after the war was over people kept their lips zipped shut.
And yet, there were still millions and millions of stories, and some of them would be recorded. They might be memoirs committed to paper years later. Then again, many of these people kept diaries. They would write home every chance they get. Officers as a regular part of their duties were constantly writing up reports. Every single one would end up being read by someone, somewhere, and passed up the chain depending on its importance, or filed away if the chain ended there. With every battle won or lost, extensive analyses were conducted on what went right and what went wrong, and how we could do better. Actions of bravery were written up for recommendations for medals or promotions. Every serious infraction meant a court-martial, and court martials left transcripts. Bitter denouements and protests were written when it was felt officers weren’t living up to their duties, and in these cases, the lips were zipped especially tight, but the reports themselves were poured over. Every location where the U.S. went, whether it was the location of a battleground, a ranging area for artillery, site for a depot, or a road used to transport was thoroughly mapped and described in detail.
Then there were the bean counters. How many 20 mm shells does it take, on average, to knock down a Val dive bomber? How many pints of A-positive blood should be stocked in a forward field hospital? How many gallons of ice cream are needed to keep a company of Marines in good fighting spirit? The bean counters might not know, but they recorded everything down just in case you wanted to sift through the data, and a lot of people did. The data would end up having a massive contribution to the war effort.
Last were two groups of material that were never meant to see the light of day. The sort of thing that ought to be recorded, but then hidden away only for the purview of top men. The first is information you might expect would cause classification or a cover-up. Disastrous friendly fire incidents. Accusations and or confessions of war crimes. State secrets involving intelligence on enemies and allies both.
Then there’s the other tranche of material. The stuff that defies explanation. Secrets from the hidden corners of the earth that were never meant to be revealed until some young farmboys from a country far away showed up in places where they were never supposed to be.
The following provides an example.
Excerpts from the personal diary of Second Lieutenant Yvette Morgan, Army Nursing Corps, 231st Hospital Group, Normandy region of France, July and August 1944. Aged 20 at the time of writing.
Note: Most American personnel in WWII were restricted from keeping personal diaries for counterintelligence purposes. It was not uncommon that this restriction was flaunted, particularly among personnel with the luxury of a little bit of privacy. Lt. Morgan seems to have understood the purpose of the restriction, and so the redactions in the following excerpts are her own. A careful eye will note she’s made a couple of errors, which is why censorship should be left to the professionals.
July 30th, 1944- Just got off the truck and finally made it back ‘home.’ Just spent all ‘day,’ helping set up the field hospital. We’ve commandeered a high school in the little town of St. A. I think it’s going to work out pretty well. There’s a gym with a tall ceiling and high windows, which means good natural lighting, so we’re setting that up as an operating room. We’ve got about six beds in each classroom, which is just about the number you’d like. The corridors are nice and wide enough to handle gurneys, and there’s plenty of room out front for the ambulances. I don’t think we could have found a better location outside of a purpose-built actual hospital.
The real work starts tomorrow. Well, today, I guess. They ought to be taking patients right about the time I’m writing this. I drew the short stick, and now I’m stuck with the overnight shift. That’s my luck for you. Back home that would have meant at least it would be pretty quiet, but I don’t think that’s going to apply to this kind of duty.
“Home” is actually this nice little old cottage they’ve set me up with, and four other girls. It’s in the tiny commune of L. It’s actually about ten miles from the hospital, not far from the sea. Every shift they’re going to drive us back and forth in these trucks. Seems like an awful waste of gasoline to me, but what do I know? The whole reason they’re doing this is because the hospital’s technically in range of German artillery, and they like to keep staff like us out of harm's way when we’re not needed. I suppose we won’t be in range much longer anyway. That said, Capt. G says the front line’s been stalled out for a while. He says it’s slow going with all these enormous hedgerows they grow everyplace around here. I never knew they could grow so big, they must be hundreds of years old. I thought the poplar windbreaks they started growing back home after the Dust Bowl were impressive, but they’ve got nothing on these things. We can still hear the guns, though. They’re a long way off, and kind of sound like thunder, though you can tell they’re not because the sky is perfectly clear. At least, I hope, they’re mostly our guns.
The morning’s still a little chilly, but it promises to be a warm day. I’m going to have to get used to sleeping through it. After long last summer is really here. The cottage itself is lovely. I can’t help but wonder about the people who really make this home. There’s a delightful flower garden in front and just the most precious herb garden right outside the kitchen window. When I get married and we have a home, I’m going to insist on one just like it.
The other girls? Well, what can I say. 5 of us all sharing this little place, at least we’ll be working different shifts mostly. I’m sure we’ll get by swimmingly.
July 31st- Just got back and finished breakfast for dinner. Part of me still wishes I were at work. If I were at a civilian hospital I still would be. Funny how the military insists on sticking to the scheduled shift and they order me to go home and get some sleep. I might get used to such regimentation.
I say this as if I’m not completely exhausted and overwhelmed. I’m sure I’ll sleep tonight. Today, whatever. As I’d suspected, we had our first wounded in during the morning shift. Most of them had been through the Mobile Advanced hospital and had been at least looked over by a doctor. Plenty had already gone through an initial surgery, just to stabilize them, close gaping wounds, and tie off arteries. It was really crude stuff, but I suppose that’s the point. Our doctors opened them back up and fixed them up properly. There were a few walking wounded, shrapnel wounds, and nasty burns we were able to help out too. I feel glad to be part of such a great team. I spent the first half of my shift assisting in two different surgeries. Then the last half attending the wards.
I had hoped that would be more peaceful. Our boys are so brave, even when you can tell they’re really broken up over what they’ve been through. And yet it wasn’t meant to be.
I mentioned that St. A.’s was within range of German artillery. Well, there was an attack last night, early this morning, I’m still not used to the schedule. They didn’t hit the hospital. They hit the other side of town. It was loud enough to shake all of the windows, and even the ground shook. It scared the daylights out of me. Some of the boys yelled too. A couple of them fell out of their beds and tried to hide underneath. I can’t imagine what it would be like to go through that a second time, let alone time after time, day after day like our boys.
I was just starting to get things settled down and everything squared. Then there was commotion. A bunch of orderlies, then nurses, then doctors running around the front main hall. We were expecting wounded. They’d hit an old medieval church on the other side of town. The Church of Saint Adalthred. There had been a platoon of soldiers sleeping there. Now they were bringing the survivors in.
I had never done triage before, though I remembered my training. You divide the patients into three groups. The group that needs surgery absolutely immediately if they’re going to live. The group that can wait for surgery. And then there’s the group that will die regardless.
There were two young men that were in the last group. The first had a massive open head wound. The strange thing was he was perfectly conscious and capable of speaking, despite the injury. There was just nothing that we could do for him. He was alert for about an hour, and then he simply passed away. Is it horrible to think that was something of a mercy?
The other suffered terrible burns, and apparently some of the blast as well. After the triage, I was assigned to care for him. The doctor had estimated over 90 percent of his body suffered burns in the third degree. The kind of amount that really makes you question your faith. I’ve seen burn patients, but not when they get first arrive like this. His eyes and ears were gone. A strange thing was, he wasn’t screaming like we’d expect burn patients to do. The doctor said his vocal cords were burnt out, but his lungs were relatively free of smoke damage, and he didn’t have that horrible cough. The doctor said it was like “he’d inhaled flame.” He was simply silent. He’s not expected to last the night. Day, I mean. I suppose I won’t see him again. I suppose that’s mercy too.
I mentioned yesterday that I think a school building serves as a fine hospital in a pinch. I’m not sure about that anymore. It’s the ventilation. There isn’t any in the school. Fumes from the ether linger everywhere. So does the stink of infection, no matter how much we fight it. And that last patient. It was like he was roasted. Literally. I thought I’d be sick.
August 1st- The truck ride back is starting to become my favorite part of the day. This one was a long one, despite being the exact same length as all the other shifts. We’re really packed now. The minute we get one patient ready for transport back to England, another takes his bed. They say the war might be over before Christmas. I hope. Don’t know how I’ll be able to keep up this pace for so long.
The little old priest whose church got blown up by the Germans came around to volunteer at the hospital. Poor old thing has nowhere else to go. He’s helping us roll bandages, working the autoclaves, and helping the chaplain out with the prayers. He seems to be helping with morale, god bless him. Particularly the chaplain’s. The priest doesn’t speak English and the chaplain doesn’t speak French, but they both speak Latin well enough to get by. I’ve never heard it spoken before. I grew up Lutheran, and it seems so strange. I’m a long way from home.
The burn patient is still alive. I was really surprised when I got in and found out. Apparently so are the doctors. Of course, I’m attending him again and was asked to change his bandages. Most of the rest of his skin that hadn’t already sloughed off last night did so while I was changing them. I didn’t see any sign of infection yet, though of course, we all know what’s coming. Other than that there wasn’t much I can do. He’s started letting off this low moan. The doctor said he was not really conscious. I can’t imagine he would be, he’s still getting so much morphine.
He was already bleeding through before my shift ended, so I thought I’d do the next shift a favor and take care of it a second time on the same shift. This time the doctor had me place his arms over his chest and belly, and bandage them all together. Also, he had me bandage his legs together. The doctor said that if there’s a miracle and somehow he manages to pull through, it will be because he somehow beat the infection. And if he’s going to have any chance at all then we’ll need to minimize his contact with bandages until can receive grafts. When I was done he ended up looking like a mummy, right out of the pictures. I don’t think it will matter much, and neither does the doctor. But we have to keep trying.
August 2nd- Just got back. The burn victim is still alive. It’s so strange. It’s all I can think about now. When I first got in I went straight to his room. I was absolutely shocked, it was gruesome. His bandages were positively soaked through. There was more red than white. I was just about to chew out the girl on the shift before me. I thought that nobody had changed the bandages since my last shift, but then she told me that she’d just changed them two hours previously. I couldn’t make head or tales of it. So I just got to work changing them myself. It felt so odd, the way the other patients in the room were looking at us. Like they knew there was something off about the whole thing. The patient’s moaning is getting louder too. It must be so unnerving to the others sharing the room.
Then, of all things, Maj. P and Col. S came in to observe. I haven’t seen either of them since we started setting up the hospital. They don’t usually stay up so late. They were washed up and decided to help me bandage the patient. As if they weren’t just there to observe me, but wanted to be a part of it too.
Sure enough, after only a couple of hours, the bandages were soaked through again. I’ve never seen such terribly bleeding. I asked the doctor if it could have possibly been hemophilia. It’s something I’ve only heard about but haven’t seen. He only shook his head like he was sure that it wasn’t. Yet he also looked even more confused than I was. We’ve been giving the patient transfusions. But at this rate, I just don’t know where it’s all coming from.
I know I shouldn’t be writing this sort of thing down, but the doctor confided that he’s thinking of reducing the morphine, maybe the patient will be more lucid. I don’t know how the doctor expects him to communicate with his vocal cords destroyed, or what he could possibly have to say even if he could talk. Well, it’s not my place to decide. I think he knows more about what’s happening to the poor man than I do.
It was all just blood too. In the bandages. No pus at all. I don’t know how he’s not becoming infected.
August 3rd- There’s a great deal of strangeness happening at the hospital. I saw the General’s staff car the moment our truck pulled around to drop us off, the little flags on the front gave it away.. Instead of starting my shift, they asked me to come back to Col. S’s office. My first thought was that I was in trouble, and they’d somehow find this diary. Both Maj. P and Col. S. were there, along with Gen C. who’d driven down from Corps HQ with a couple of his staff. There were also two men from what might have been regular Army, except they wore two long dark coats. I didn’t get their names.
Apparently, they’d all been there for hours and were wanting to debrief me. Well, it sure was intimidating, but they just wanted me to tell them what I’d seen. Fair enough. The patient was burned all over his body. He probably should have died the first night but hasn’t. There’s an awful amount of bleeding which I can’t account for. There’s also no pus or smell of infection, which also didn’t make sense. I told them about how he’s been given large amounts of morphine, though I didn’t say what Cap. H had said about reducing it. No, he had never been capable of speaking since brought in. No, he hadn’t been wearing his dog tags, but between the blast, and the length of time he’d been burning, he must have stripped everything off. Surely they were back in the rubble of that church. Then they thanked me and told me I could go back to work.
Well, I’d just about had it. I stood up and demanded that if they knew something about my patient that they weren’t telling me and that if they did I could take better care of him, well then they had better tell me. I think I even swore though I didn’t mean to. Maj. P almost laughed and Col. S just gave me that stupid patronizing smile. Told me I was already doing everything that I could, and that they were proud of me. He’s a good man, but I’m getting really sick of this Army “that’s on a need-to-know basis” crap.
Rest of the shift was just the usual. Strange how it's become the norm now. No, there was something else. The burn patient was in his room by himself. They’d moved the other beds out. They didn’t tell me why. Probably because his moan’s getting worse. And raspier. I still don’t think he’s out of the morphine stupor though.
Alright, it’s later the same day, the second. I’ve just woken up and had a serious chat with Kathy, the nurse from the second shift, and she’s had a lot to talk about. Rumors are swirling. I don’t know how much of this is true. My gut instinct? It’s all true.
Those men in the long coats? The rumor is they were Army Intelligence. That didn’t make a lick of sense to me at first, but then it started to come together. It turns out there were supposed to be 30 men, including the C.O., in that church that night it got shelled. Nobody else. Except when they added up all the survivors (who’ve moved on to the front), all the wounded that were taken to our hospital, and those who died, which took a while to count, then it all added up to 31 men. So somebody was there who wasn’t supposed to be there, and nobody knows who it is. They think they’ve got all of the dog tags accounted for, which might have been why they asked me about it when I came in later that night. And the one person they can’t account for seems to be the burn victim.
So they didn’t know who it was. Nobody from the St. A.’s was missing. None of the French Resistance were around that night (apparently Intelligence asked them? How else would they know?). So it's really suspicious and they were worried he might be some kind of spy or infiltrator. They still don’t even know why that church was shelled in the first place.
So they started asking questions of that poor old priest who’s been volunteering. We know because they let the chaplain sit in with him, but it seems both of the intelligence guys spoke fluent French. They asked him if there were any kind of acolyte or initiate or whatever sort of junior clergy he might have could have been there. He said no, and anybody who might have was accounted for and healthy. He asked if there was anything valuable that could have been stolen, or maybe he feared could be looted (would our boys do that?). Well, he didn’t think so. There was the holy font, which was an antique, but there were many like it and it was hardly easy to move. There was the Bible at the altar. It was very old and had great sentimental value, but again it would have no value to thieves. There was the tomb of St. Adalthred himself, which was priceless to his community but was a part of the church itself. Why the church had been built in the first place. Impossible to steal.
Then they asked the priest to come and view the patient. Perhaps seeing his proportions, perhaps it might have helped him recollect a similar person he’d seen lately. I understand why they did it. He, the burn victim, does seem shorter than any soldier I’ve met, skinner too. I wish they hadn’t, though. The chaplain said the priest had cried over seeing all those bloody bandages. There wasn’t a point, because the priest said he didn’t recognize him. The strange thing was, the chaplain had said that the priest's behavior seemed really strange. Like they got the really strong sense that the priest was being cagey, and lying to them. Not that he recognized the figure per se, but that he was thinking of something that he wasn’t telling them. He also insisted on saying a prayer over the burnt figure before he left, and they let him.
When I asked why they’d moved all the other beds in the room, Kathy said a little while after the priest had left the burn victim had started screaming, really bad. The other patients asked if they could leave the room, and because of the mystery, Col. S. agreed to it so they could isolate the burnt man. He was only calmer when I arrived later because they’d given him more morphine. When Kathy told me how much my jaw hit the floor. That part has to be baseless rumor.
August 8- I’m back in England. I’ve been too worked up to write, and worried, of course. After it happened, they put me in a truck, drove me to L. to pick up my things, and then I was on a Skytrain back to Cornwall. I guess we stopped at the cottage as a courtesy, it was on the way to the airfield. I was worried they’d find this diary, but they never searched. I don’t think they know what to do with me. I’m not sure what they should do either. They might just send me home, I suppose. I wouldn’t protest that. I just want to get on with things.
So. That night. The 4th.
I’ll start when I get off the truck. That moment when you hit the ground after jumping out of the bed is so sharp like it just sets your whole day. Like a starter pistol at a race. Something about it seemed off just as I was walking towards the door. Now I get in, and the front gallery, ever since that night of the triage, is a pretty empty place. But somebody was waiting for me, and it was Col. S. He came right up to me the moment he saw me. What an upside-down experience.
He starts leading me down the side hall, towards the back of the hospital/school where his office was. So of course I expected he needed to talk to me about something in his office. Only it turned out it wasn’t his office anymore. I thought something was off when I saw two armed guards on either side of the door to his often. Almost as soon, I heard the screaming.
I have just enough time to puzzle together what’s happened when Col. S walks right in, me in tow. They’d moved the burn patient to Col. S’s office, and he’d cleared out. The reason was obvious. The patient was screaming. Really, really loud. It hurt my ears in such a small office. The office was as about as far removed from the rest of the patients as they could move him. His bandages were soaked through, totally bright red. Jet red? Is jet red a thing? If you saw him, you’d say it was. It looked like they had been in the middle of starting to change his bandages, or just about to finish. Because there were parts of his flesh that were exposed. I didn’t realize it at first, and could only tell because of the texture.
I was just staring at him for a while. Jaw wide open. Then I looked at Col. S. He had been watching my reaction. He had such a sympathetic look. I asked him “How long has he been like this?”
“For hours,” he said. Like he was apologizing.
“How much morphine did you give him?” I asked. He was a doctor in his own right, of course. He didn’t get a chance to perform much surgery now that he’s the administrator, but I don’t think that ever leaves you.
He looked like he was about to cry.
“Lethal?” I asked.
“More,” he whispered.
We stood there silent for a few moments. Then he explained the situation. The only people allowed in the room would be doctors. Myself, and he explained I was the nurse with the most experience with him, and that I was the one he trusted the most. I’d have no other duties this shift. The chaplain was allowed in, and the priest. Also, the two guards out front, and that was it. He told me “The men from intel will be back, and a couple of spooks. We’ll figure it out then.” I had no idea what he meant by that, but I just nodded.
Well, the chaplain was there, though he looked a total mess. And it turned out the priest had stayed late but had gone home, exhausted.
So I did my duties. Changed bandages. Changed IV bottles. There were two chairs in the room, one for me and one for the chaplain. With only the one patient sometimes I’d wait. We couldn’t really chat. The screaming was too loud. I don’t think either of us got used to it.
I suppose it was about 3 AM. Mom used to call that the witching hour. Around three it started to change. The screaming that is, the cadence of it. Is that the right word? He started screaming words. Very garbled, but words. That was when I remembered the doctor had said his vocal cords had been destroyed. Had he been wrong? It had to be. Both I and the chaplain were standing over him then. The chaplain whispering prayers. Sometimes we’d look at each other like maybe the other knew what was happening. There were no answers.
The words started getting clearer. Not that we understood them, but they kind of sounded like they were French. Both I and the chaplain thought he, the patient, was becoming lucid. The chaplain opened up the door and told the guards to get the colonel, also to send somebody to find the priest. I suppose anybody could have translated, or so I thought at the time, but getting the priest sounded right.
Well, the colonel wasn’t in, but Maj. P. was. He spoke a little French, but he couldn’t understand the words. I’m still glad he was there. As a witness. I’m glad me and the chaplain weren’t the only ones. It was like the patient was chanting.
It was, maybe ten minutes after the major arrived. The screaming just stopped. No words. Just heavy breathing. Hyperventilating maybe. It occurred to me then that the bandages had become soaked through again. I’d been there the whole time. Watching. Only now had I noticed. He was glistening. The bedding was bloody too, of course. It was everywhere. And then…
Then it happened.
I had been facing another direction. But there was a sound. Like a massive, loud inhalation of are. There was this bright light, like when a lightbulb is about to short out. Except I felt the heat, and I turned. The patient had burst into flames.
I screamed. I think the chaplain and major did too. The two guards ran in. Maybe they sent somebody else to fetch the priest. They just yelled and weren’t able to do anything else. In a normal circumstance, I think somebody would have fetched an extinguisher. Except the patient suddenly sat straight up in his bed. We were positively paralyzed. He was screaming again, and all we could do is watch. His bandages and bedding all burned away. Only then he stopped.
There was this man before us. He had no skin. No eyes. Glistening red, and patches of black where the ash still clung to him. He looked at us. Looked at me. There were two black holes in his face, above the hole for his nose, and his mouth, lips burned away and teeth missing. But the holes for his eyes… I could feel him looking at me despite having no eyes.
Then he spoke. It was French again, at least I thought. I couldn’t understand it. Full sentences. Raspy, but clear. No sign of pain or duress. Yet it was authoritative like he was in full command of his faculties.
I don’t think it lasted long before the priest came rushing in. The priest said something like “sortie” and then the Major told us to get out, the chaplain and I.
We did and closed the door behind us. The two guards were further down the hall, clearly rattled.
We could hear the priest and the burned man talking. Clearly, through the door. The burned man was distinguishable by the rasp in his voice, the commanding tone. Yet as we listened, there was something off. The burned man’s French was different than the priest’s French. It was like they didn’t understand each other. It was like they were speaking two different dialects, and I didn’t realize until I heard them both being spoken next to each other.
There was a pause of silence. And then the priest started speaking in Latin. I saw a look of relief on the chaplain’s face when the burned man responded, also in Latin.
The two spoke, the burned man and the priest. They went on and on, me not understanding any of it. The burned man seemed to calm, the priest becoming more anxious as they went. Then I turned to the chaplain again. His attention was totally focused on the closed door, but he was listening to the priest and the burned man talk.
He was shaking, and pale as a ghost. I’ve seen men shake. I’ve seen them shake from the effects of blood loss and shock. I’ve seen them shake because they’ve been mad from war. I’ve seen them shake from hypothermia and hypoglycemia and drug overdoses. I’ve seen no end of fear in their eyes. Fear as they’re going under anesthesia, or having their limbs removed, or knowing they’re about to die from their wounds.
I’ve never seen a man so afraid or shaken than that chaplain on that night. And all because he was able to follow that conversation in Latin.
The door suddenly opened. The priest waved us aside, looking more determined than I’d ever seen him. We pressed ourselves against the wall to get out of the way. The burned man followed him. Silent. Walking. We watched them walk down the hallway. The guards turned and fled. Then the priest and the burnt figure turned the corner, and that was the last that I saw of them.
I remember looking back into the room and seeing the Major, slumped in a chair, hands covered his face. The smoke from the burning bandages and bedding still hung in the air, sweet and strong and foul due to the lack of ventilation.
The two men in the long coats showed up. There were also a couple of men in suits. Civilians, I guess. They sort of took charge. Then they just put me on a truck, didn’t even ask me any questions.
And that’s what happened.
I’ve been on this base for a couple of days. They seem to be giving me a lot of freedom, they let me go into town yesterday. I went to a library. It wasn’t a very big one, but I guess it didn’t need to be. I found a hagiography. Or, I guess, a sort of encyclopedia on the subject of saints.
There was a very small entry on the subject of Saint Adalthred. Very little was known about him. He’d been a saint in early medieval France. He’d preached to royalty. The Marrowvingians I think it said, I don’t know what that is. Like all saints, he’d performed three miracles. Like all saints, he’d been martyred. He’d been burned at the stake. His last miracle had been his own resurrection.
I don’t know what to do with this diary. I never should have started it, and yet I think it’s important that I did. I think I’m going to turn myself in and give it to them. I suppose they’ll court-martial me over it, send me home. I don’t want to go home, but maybe I deserve it. At any rate, clearly, there are higher powers than me at work here.
-End copy.-
All of the documentation by the U.S. during the war was massive. All of the officers, nurses, spies, bean counters, and everybody else contributed to the pile. This was long before the digital age, or even microfiche, so the sheer scale of the paperwork is hardly conceivable. It could have been measured by the cargo holds of liberty ships.
After the war, the Army and Navy needed someplace to store it all. Any of it could have had unforeseen value, and destroying it was never an option. In 1951, with the Korean War raging and threatening to exacerbate the document problem, the Department of Defense decided to build a massive new warehouse archive to store it all. In 1956, the Military Personnel Records Center was finished. Ostensibly the archive was meant to store personnel records, but the military being the military, and the warehouse being of such a huge scale, it housed other records as well. Records such as the nurse’s diary, records of things unnatural. Supernatural. Only to be seen by top men.
One of the items discussed during the facility’s construction was the inclusion of a sprinkler fire prevention system. There was a concern that such a system could leak, and cause water damage to all the important documents. So the archive was built without one.
In 1973 the building burned down, taking millions of documents with it. The cause was never officially determined. At the time, and for many years after, the biggest problem was the bureaucratic nightmare it caused for millions of veterans and collecting the benefits they were entitled to.
To a very small community, namely us, the damage was a travesty. That’s the purpose of this project. To retrieve the documentation, study, and catalog it, this entry is only the first example. Naturally, the question arises- how do we retrieve these files if they were all destroyed in the fire? Well, that’s on a need-to-know basis, Lieutenant, and you don’t need to know.
Author's Notes: The War Files is meant to be an on-going series of horror stories set in and around WWII, and the very real Archive Fire. Maybe it would make a good podcast? This was sort of a pilot episode and thought it would fit the theme of this month's event. If you liked the story and want to read more, I'll probably post them either to my subreddit EBDavis or my substack ebdavis.substack.com
2023.06.05 15:38 henryclark1 5 Best Places To Visit In The New York
Globally acknowledged as, ‘The Big Apple’, ‘The Never Sleeping City’ and sometimes also as ‘Gotham City’, New York is primarily known for its extraordinary scenic beauty, gratitude for being situated on a natural harbor, and the cityscape that brings life to the building after sunset. If you are planning to visit NYC with friends or family do look for a deal/offer with a reputed airline, for instance, Southwest Airlines Vacation Packages. However, New York has incalculable attractions including sky-scraper buildings amazing museums, lush parks, vibrant streets, restaurants, shops, and much more, the city has many things to offer to every visitor. Besides, charming college towns upstate, gorgeous lakes, and even world-famous waterfalls are just unique spots and centers of top attractions.
New York City is one of the top-visited 5 destinations in the world. So, visiting this dynamic city will just rejuvenate your mind exceptionally. This content contains five highly visited and most popular sights that no traveler should ever, ever, miss at any cost. This trip is going to offer you a wonderful memory forever, keep reading the post till the end.
Being a 152 feet tall structure from the base to the light, it is popularly known to be one of the world's biggest sculptures, weighing roughly 450,000 pounds. You can see the sculpture from land, with especially great perspectives from Battery Park, on the southern tip of Manhattan.
To genuinely see the value in the Statue of Liberty, the best thing to do is to go on a short boat outing to Liberty Island and see it very close. Go for a soothing walk around the base, and on the off chance that you have reservations, enter the platform or the crown. The crown has now been opened for visitors, yet book well ahead of time to partake in this unique experience.
On a visit to the Statue of Liberty, you have the choice to stop at Ellis Island and explore the Migration Gallery. This phenomenal gallery is situated in the noteworthy movement station complex, where a great many outsiders were handled prior to entering the US.
2. The Central Park
A walk, carriage ride, and pedal through the crisscross ways of Central Park is a must-do on every traveler’s NYC visiting schedule. During the winter, you might bind up your skates and glide across Wollman Rink. This colossal park in the downtown area, a half-mile wide and 2.5 miles long, is something that makes NYC such a delightful and decent city.
Other than being an extraordinary spot to encounter a little nature, Central Park includes numerous attractions inside its lines, and the greater part of them are free, making it one of the thrifty and exceptional modest activities in New York City. The absolute most famous spots to visit incorporate the Belvedere Palace, Strawberry Fields, the Central Park Zoo, and the soothing Lake. In the event that you are looking for the recreation area all alone, begin by getting a guide at one of the guest places and schedule your road map.
You may apply one of the smart options to book cheap air tickets online. Experts also suggest preferring Southwest Low Fare Calendar would be a great way to reserve seats for New York City. Although, booking a flight of your choice is not restricted but this is an online tool that shows low-fare flights on different dates of a specific month. You can book a flight of your preference using this online tool with a very minimal budget too.
3. American Museum of Natural History
One of the most iconic museums for a family outing in NYC is the American Museum of Natural History has something to engage everybody. Eight extremely durable display halls boast all that is intriguing about the natural environment of the earth, from science and the climate to creatures and fossils.
This magnificent museum hosts unique shows that run for a pre-scheduled time. A portion of the ongoing displays that are definitely worth seeing remembers one for sharks, highlighting models of these astounding animals that you can really contact. Another interesting showcase is the exclusive 22-carat Okavango Blue Precious Diamond.
A feature of any visit is a walk around the Butterfly Studio. Inside this humid and warm environment-controlled house, you will share the space with more than 500 species of fluttering and colorful butterflies. However, visiting the American Museum of Natural History brings a fascinating experience and a sweet memory forever.
4. Times Square
Fixed with enormous, splendidly lit boards and screens, Times Square is the spot to go in NYC at night, yet exciting whenever of day. This is the area where New Year's Eve Festivities are organized and the renowned ‘ball drop’ at sharp 12 PM when the square and encompassing roads are loaded up with both foreign travelers and locals.
Times Square is a very fast location with densely crowded travelers however it scatters an allure of its own. This unique spot is recognized as an incredible place to enjoy some time off and pay high value to the amazing scenery around it. In general, most people prefer Southwest Low Fare Calendar to book flights online in advance. However, you may book a flight that justifies your preferences adequately.
Previously it was known as ‘Longacre Square’, but in 1904 it was renamed after the New York Times tower. The daily read English newspaper previously posted current titles along its moving sign, the first of its sort on the planet, in 1928.
On the off chance that you've had your fill of sitting on the seats and are searching for something enjoyable to do either collectively or as a couple, walk around to Madame Tussaud's Wax Gallery. The shockingly life-like wax dolls highlight New York City symbols like Jimmy Fallon and the arrangement of The Tonight Show, Broadway cast individuals and shows where you really get to spruce up and partake. The glass of the building dome distends over Times Square for magnificent views.
5. Metropolitan Museum of Art
The Metropolitan Museum of Art, or the Met, as it is popularly known, was established in 1870, and is quite one of the most popular museums in the USA. The super durable collection of The Met contains about 2 million artworks, spanning an extensive time frame of more than 5,000 years.
Albeit the Museum consists of three sites, the focal point is The Met Fifth Avenue. Features of this assortment incorporate the Decorative Arts of America, arms and armor, war outfits, Egyptian craftsmanship, ancient instruments of music, photos, and considerably more. Continuously changing shows bring a portion of the world's most well-known works to general visitors.
The Met Cloisters, situated in Fort Tryon Park in northern Manhattan, is another very famous New York exhibition Museum. This part of the Metropolitan Gallery of Art, housed in a remarkable design, beautified in medieval orders, sanctuaries, and lobbies, centers around the middle-age workmanship and architectural expertise of Europe.
Concluding Notion
The appealing beauty of New York City and truly exceptional sights will bring you a wonderful memory forever. However, experts suggest booking a flight always in advance to avoid the rush that usually occurs at the 11th hour and early booking is also a great way to save money on airfares. In this respect, you may also speak to an authorized executive to know about Southwest Airlines Vacation Packages or any ongoing offedeal. Moreover, booking hotels in advance is also an act of wisdom to escape unnecessary complications after reaching the destination.
submitted by henryclark1 to u/henryclark1 [link] [comments]
New York City is one of the top-visited 5 destinations in the world. So, visiting this dynamic city will just rejuvenate your mind exceptionally. This content contains five highly visited and most popular sights that no traveler should ever, ever, miss at any cost. This trip is going to offer you a wonderful memory forever, keep reading the post till the end.
- The Statue of Liberty
Being a 152 feet tall structure from the base to the light, it is popularly known to be one of the world's biggest sculptures, weighing roughly 450,000 pounds. You can see the sculpture from land, with especially great perspectives from Battery Park, on the southern tip of Manhattan.
To genuinely see the value in the Statue of Liberty, the best thing to do is to go on a short boat outing to Liberty Island and see it very close. Go for a soothing walk around the base, and on the off chance that you have reservations, enter the platform or the crown. The crown has now been opened for visitors, yet book well ahead of time to partake in this unique experience.
On a visit to the Statue of Liberty, you have the choice to stop at Ellis Island and explore the Migration Gallery. This phenomenal gallery is situated in the noteworthy movement station complex, where a great many outsiders were handled prior to entering the US.
2. The Central Park
A walk, carriage ride, and pedal through the crisscross ways of Central Park is a must-do on every traveler’s NYC visiting schedule. During the winter, you might bind up your skates and glide across Wollman Rink. This colossal park in the downtown area, a half-mile wide and 2.5 miles long, is something that makes NYC such a delightful and decent city.
Other than being an extraordinary spot to encounter a little nature, Central Park includes numerous attractions inside its lines, and the greater part of them are free, making it one of the thrifty and exceptional modest activities in New York City. The absolute most famous spots to visit incorporate the Belvedere Palace, Strawberry Fields, the Central Park Zoo, and the soothing Lake. In the event that you are looking for the recreation area all alone, begin by getting a guide at one of the guest places and schedule your road map.
You may apply one of the smart options to book cheap air tickets online. Experts also suggest preferring Southwest Low Fare Calendar would be a great way to reserve seats for New York City. Although, booking a flight of your choice is not restricted but this is an online tool that shows low-fare flights on different dates of a specific month. You can book a flight of your preference using this online tool with a very minimal budget too.
3. American Museum of Natural History
One of the most iconic museums for a family outing in NYC is the American Museum of Natural History has something to engage everybody. Eight extremely durable display halls boast all that is intriguing about the natural environment of the earth, from science and the climate to creatures and fossils.
This magnificent museum hosts unique shows that run for a pre-scheduled time. A portion of the ongoing displays that are definitely worth seeing remembers one for sharks, highlighting models of these astounding animals that you can really contact. Another interesting showcase is the exclusive 22-carat Okavango Blue Precious Diamond.
A feature of any visit is a walk around the Butterfly Studio. Inside this humid and warm environment-controlled house, you will share the space with more than 500 species of fluttering and colorful butterflies. However, visiting the American Museum of Natural History brings a fascinating experience and a sweet memory forever.
4. Times Square
Fixed with enormous, splendidly lit boards and screens, Times Square is the spot to go in NYC at night, yet exciting whenever of day. This is the area where New Year's Eve Festivities are organized and the renowned ‘ball drop’ at sharp 12 PM when the square and encompassing roads are loaded up with both foreign travelers and locals.
Times Square is a very fast location with densely crowded travelers however it scatters an allure of its own. This unique spot is recognized as an incredible place to enjoy some time off and pay high value to the amazing scenery around it. In general, most people prefer Southwest Low Fare Calendar to book flights online in advance. However, you may book a flight that justifies your preferences adequately.
Previously it was known as ‘Longacre Square’, but in 1904 it was renamed after the New York Times tower. The daily read English newspaper previously posted current titles along its moving sign, the first of its sort on the planet, in 1928.
On the off chance that you've had your fill of sitting on the seats and are searching for something enjoyable to do either collectively or as a couple, walk around to Madame Tussaud's Wax Gallery. The shockingly life-like wax dolls highlight New York City symbols like Jimmy Fallon and the arrangement of The Tonight Show, Broadway cast individuals and shows where you really get to spruce up and partake. The glass of the building dome distends over Times Square for magnificent views.
5. Metropolitan Museum of Art
The Metropolitan Museum of Art, or the Met, as it is popularly known, was established in 1870, and is quite one of the most popular museums in the USA. The super durable collection of The Met contains about 2 million artworks, spanning an extensive time frame of more than 5,000 years.
Albeit the Museum consists of three sites, the focal point is The Met Fifth Avenue. Features of this assortment incorporate the Decorative Arts of America, arms and armor, war outfits, Egyptian craftsmanship, ancient instruments of music, photos, and considerably more. Continuously changing shows bring a portion of the world's most well-known works to general visitors.
The Met Cloisters, situated in Fort Tryon Park in northern Manhattan, is another very famous New York exhibition Museum. This part of the Metropolitan Gallery of Art, housed in a remarkable design, beautified in medieval orders, sanctuaries, and lobbies, centers around the middle-age workmanship and architectural expertise of Europe.
Concluding Notion
The appealing beauty of New York City and truly exceptional sights will bring you a wonderful memory forever. However, experts suggest booking a flight always in advance to avoid the rush that usually occurs at the 11th hour and early booking is also a great way to save money on airfares. In this respect, you may also speak to an authorized executive to know about Southwest Airlines Vacation Packages or any ongoing offedeal. Moreover, booking hotels in advance is also an act of wisdom to escape unnecessary complications after reaching the destination.
2023.06.05 15:36 Hot_Subject_1338 StarFox Alternate Timeline Story Dialogue V: The Aparoid Ambush and Heroes Healing
Falco “Fox, are you alright? Did you get severely injured?”
Fox “No, I just have a few lingering cuts. And I think I have lost my heroic pride.”
Falco “Glad you weren’t unconscious either… still, we need to get out of this staged trap!”
Fox “No! I’ll surrender to the Aparoids while you escape to safety!”
Falco “You can’t be a prisoner alone again! I’ll stay with my partner and let the others go free!”
Fox “No… Falco… please… go?”
Aparoid Hunter “REQUEST ACCEPTED! THE REST OF STARFOX MUST LEAVE THE PLANET, IMMEDIATELY WITHOUT DELAY!”
General Scales “We’ll be coming back for you, Vep!”
half-hour later at the prison room
Cyber Shears “Well what do we have here? Two StarFox mercenaries are in my wondrous fortress!”
Falco “Captain Shears!? Aren’t you supposed to be locked up at Corneria prison?”
Fox “Guessing he escaped and assimilated with a rogue Aparoid drone!”
Cyber Shears “You are correct, McCloud! And the Aparoid Queen isn’t the only one to view people’s memories.”
Falco “So what is your plans to conquer the Lylat System?”
Cyber Shears “I’m not conquering, but just a collection of brave heroes. And you both are my first welcoming guests!”
Fox “Are you going to put us in stasis pods?”
Cyber Shears “Heavens no! You’re going to be in a couple of comfortable guest bedrooms and have suitable uniforms to wear.”
Falco “I’m feeling a bit of deja-vu of a familiar warlord you stayed with, Fox!”
Cyber Shears “Similar but more helpful!”
Fox “I don’t want to go back home feeling depressed after that brutal experiment you did. But maybe I can stay for a few days until I’m fully healed.”
Cyber Shears “Good! I asked my hunters to bring back more defeated and depressed heroes to recuperate from their traumatic & overwhelming experiences.”
Falco “I guess I could stick around for a while and maybe explore the community in your fortress, Shears?”
Cyber Shears “Accepted, Lombardi! I’ll be in my office bedroom, and my servants will be here to take you to your rooms. Please enjoy your stay!”
in the shared bathroom between Fox and Falco's bedrooms
Falco "Fox? Are you feeling okay?"
Fox in his merman form and crying in the shower "Sorry Falco... I just needed some time alone."
Falco "Still feeling broken from Shears' dark experimental trap?"
Fox "And the dark taunts."
Falco "Listen, that aparoid might've knocked out your pride but you still have your courageous spirit to fight back with!"
Fox "I don't know if I have any strength to fight against my despair..."
Falco "But you still have your Wingman to back you up!"
Fox hugs Falco "Wished you have saved me! I don’t want to lose anyone from my failures!”
Aparoid Bellhop "Is everything alright in here, Mr Lombardi?"
Falco "Yeah, just giving a little pep talk to my friend here."
Aparoid Bellhop "I'll inform Master Shears the good news, and do you need an extra set of dry clothes to wear?"
Falco "Yes, and can you also get few extra shirts?”
Aparoid Bellhop "Any preference why?"
Falco "Just don't want him catching a cold of being shirtless, if he might eventually revert back from his merman form..."
Fox "Yeah, and can you bring a wheelchair as well?"
Aparoid Bellhop "Accepted! I shall retrieve what you have asked."
two days later…
Falco “So are you feeling better, Fox?”
Fox “Felt much better after being released from the hospitable estate! Thank you Shears!”
Cyber Shears “Well, more like a rehabilitation center and your welcome, McCloud. The doors are always open if you’re feeling overwhelmed again…”
Falco “We will need another favor from you since we don’t have a portal back to headquarters…”
Cyber Shears “Will a StarTaxi be helpful? You don’t need to pay, but input the destination and you will get there safely!”
Fox “That would be helpful! Thanks Shears!”
traveling in hyper jump
Fox “Are you thinking of going back to the rehabilitation estate?”
Falco “Just wanted to make sure that he didn’t have any drones in there, and maybe a bit of relaxation. Are you okay, Fox?”
Fox “Was just thinking of you when we were in the bathroom.”
Falco “Well I was trying to find out where you were and noticed that you had been in the shower. Still haven’t recovered from your depression?”
Fox “Almost recovered, but still had affective feelings about you for being more than a wingman.”
Falco “You silly adorable Fox!”
Wolf speaking through the radio “Well enough with the homosexual chat, you both are going to be debriefed when coming back home!”
Fox “Wolf? How did you find us?”
Slippy “Wasn’t that difficult to create an Aparoid tracker, but noticed you were coming back in a different vehicle.”
Falco “When we get back to Headquarters, I will let the girls have fun in my apartment while we have a private time in yours.”
Fox “I wouldn’t mind having some privacy with you, Falco! But maybe we’ll go back to the rehabilitation center incase we both feel downed…”
submitted by Hot_Subject_1338 to starfox [link] [comments]
Fox “No, I just have a few lingering cuts. And I think I have lost my heroic pride.”
Falco “Glad you weren’t unconscious either… still, we need to get out of this staged trap!”
Fox “No! I’ll surrender to the Aparoids while you escape to safety!”
Falco “You can’t be a prisoner alone again! I’ll stay with my partner and let the others go free!”
Fox “No… Falco… please… go?”
Aparoid Hunter “REQUEST ACCEPTED! THE REST OF STARFOX MUST LEAVE THE PLANET, IMMEDIATELY WITHOUT DELAY!”
General Scales “We’ll be coming back for you, Vep!”
half-hour later at the prison room
Cyber Shears “Well what do we have here? Two StarFox mercenaries are in my wondrous fortress!”
Falco “Captain Shears!? Aren’t you supposed to be locked up at Corneria prison?”
Fox “Guessing he escaped and assimilated with a rogue Aparoid drone!”
Cyber Shears “You are correct, McCloud! And the Aparoid Queen isn’t the only one to view people’s memories.”
Falco “So what is your plans to conquer the Lylat System?”
Cyber Shears “I’m not conquering, but just a collection of brave heroes. And you both are my first welcoming guests!”
Fox “Are you going to put us in stasis pods?”
Cyber Shears “Heavens no! You’re going to be in a couple of comfortable guest bedrooms and have suitable uniforms to wear.”
Falco “I’m feeling a bit of deja-vu of a familiar warlord you stayed with, Fox!”
Cyber Shears “Similar but more helpful!”
Fox “I don’t want to go back home feeling depressed after that brutal experiment you did. But maybe I can stay for a few days until I’m fully healed.”
Cyber Shears “Good! I asked my hunters to bring back more defeated and depressed heroes to recuperate from their traumatic & overwhelming experiences.”
Falco “I guess I could stick around for a while and maybe explore the community in your fortress, Shears?”
Cyber Shears “Accepted, Lombardi! I’ll be in my office bedroom, and my servants will be here to take you to your rooms. Please enjoy your stay!”
in the shared bathroom between Fox and Falco's bedrooms
Falco "Fox? Are you feeling okay?"
Fox in his merman form and crying in the shower "Sorry Falco... I just needed some time alone."
Falco "Still feeling broken from Shears' dark experimental trap?"
Fox "And the dark taunts."
Falco "Listen, that aparoid might've knocked out your pride but you still have your courageous spirit to fight back with!"
Fox "I don't know if I have any strength to fight against my despair..."
Falco "But you still have your Wingman to back you up!"
Fox hugs Falco "Wished you have saved me! I don’t want to lose anyone from my failures!”
Aparoid Bellhop "Is everything alright in here, Mr Lombardi?"
Falco "Yeah, just giving a little pep talk to my friend here."
Aparoid Bellhop "I'll inform Master Shears the good news, and do you need an extra set of dry clothes to wear?"
Falco "Yes, and can you also get few extra shirts?”
Aparoid Bellhop "Any preference why?"
Falco "Just don't want him catching a cold of being shirtless, if he might eventually revert back from his merman form..."
Fox "Yeah, and can you bring a wheelchair as well?"
Aparoid Bellhop "Accepted! I shall retrieve what you have asked."
two days later…
Falco “So are you feeling better, Fox?”
Fox “Felt much better after being released from the hospitable estate! Thank you Shears!”
Cyber Shears “Well, more like a rehabilitation center and your welcome, McCloud. The doors are always open if you’re feeling overwhelmed again…”
Falco “We will need another favor from you since we don’t have a portal back to headquarters…”
Cyber Shears “Will a StarTaxi be helpful? You don’t need to pay, but input the destination and you will get there safely!”
Fox “That would be helpful! Thanks Shears!”
traveling in hyper jump
Fox “Are you thinking of going back to the rehabilitation estate?”
Falco “Just wanted to make sure that he didn’t have any drones in there, and maybe a bit of relaxation. Are you okay, Fox?”
Fox “Was just thinking of you when we were in the bathroom.”
Falco “Well I was trying to find out where you were and noticed that you had been in the shower. Still haven’t recovered from your depression?”
Fox “Almost recovered, but still had affective feelings about you for being more than a wingman.”
Falco “You silly adorable Fox!”
Wolf speaking through the radio “Well enough with the homosexual chat, you both are going to be debriefed when coming back home!”
Fox “Wolf? How did you find us?”
Slippy “Wasn’t that difficult to create an Aparoid tracker, but noticed you were coming back in a different vehicle.”
Falco “When we get back to Headquarters, I will let the girls have fun in my apartment while we have a private time in yours.”
Fox “I wouldn’t mind having some privacy with you, Falco! But maybe we’ll go back to the rehabilitation center incase we both feel downed…”
2023.06.05 15:35 tiredmortician Medical Cannabis for Autism / Restrictive Eating
I’ve seen forums of medical cannabis used to treat various comorbid conditions of autism but I’d like to know if anyone has first hand experience using it with young children who do not eat. And I don’t mean picky eater only eats nuggets but eats every day, I mean my child does NOT eat. He is currently hospitalized for the second time this year due to refusal to eat (scurvy, rickets, anemia, etc) and the next step will be a feeding tube if we don’t find another solution. The waitlist for the intensive feeding program at RU cares is over a year. Outpatient OT and speech feeding haven’t had success. Dietary shakes etc not an option he will only drink water. I’ve tried everything. In New Jersey. He’s 10.
submitted by tiredmortician to medical [link] [comments]
2023.06.05 15:24 Puzzled_Parking3725 Anyone else experiencing this?
For context, I work a level one trauma center and have been in the ER for almost years now, this is my 4th trauma season. Trauma season has always been hectic with staffing and overflow of patients. I just came home from day 4/6 in a row before my vacation, and the only thing I could do was sit in silence for 30 minutes on my couch. I’m still trying to process the last few days. Nearly no one getting seen in the waiting room unless they’re actually sick enough waiting the 12+ hours that there might be a single bed available in the ER for more than 30 seconds. I worked triage/waiting room day 1 and 2 had to board multiple EMS crews for 2+ hours. Then had to stick a raging meth head police dropped off with security with the ambulance bay until we could get the malingering patient out of the last stretcher we have so I could restrain him, ending up flipping shit and attacking staff and ended up being held down on the floor until security could kick the other patient out. Triage has 5-10 or more patients at a time that are admitted/security holds, because our drunk tank is full. Our hospital refuses to ever put us on diversion, except for the recent mass shooting that made national news, despite there being another trauma center in the state. We still continue to accept patients for nearly everything all over the state and sometimes other states despite our bed and staffing issues. ICU holds are now boarded 36+ hours. A medical ICU patient I triaged day 2 I was the primary nurse for on day 4, that I had to give 6 units of blood back to back and cardiovert, and treat his ongoing sepsis, as well as my ICU polytrauma and two other floor holds. My charge nurse had a team of five and was working the trauma bay. Most of our equipment is falling apart despite them creating a new tower addition. They also closed our ambulance parking lot this morning for construction and it will be closed for a week. So EVERYONE will go in through the waiting room. And they just keep. Taking. More. Patients. I’ve been at this facility a long time and have seen a lot of bullshit, especially with COVID and our increasing gun violence. Nothing else has scared me like this before. What the hell is going on?
submitted by Puzzled_Parking3725 to nursing [link] [comments]
2023.06.05 15:22 EquivalentGrand7273 What Are Some Exciting Family Adventure Travel Destinations in India That Cater to All Ages? 🏞️🚀
 | submitted by EquivalentGrand7273 to u/EquivalentGrand7273 [link] [comments] https://preview.redd.it/09pihb4ca74b1.jpg?width=1080&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=4834ab6e0b112f12d44deb367edf1ceb756b14df "Embark on a family adventure in India, where diverse landscapes and thrilling experiences create unforgettable moments for all ages to cherish." Traveling with the family is an incredible way to create lasting memories, foster strong bonds, and embark on exciting adventures together. India, with its diverse landscapes and rich cultural heritage, offers a plethora of family adventure travel destinations that cater to all ages. In this blog, we will explore some of the most thrilling and captivating destinations in India where families can indulge in unforgettable adventures. 1. Rishikesh, Uttarakhand 🕉️🌊 Known as the "Yoga Capital of the World," Rishikesh is not only a spiritual haven but also a hub for adrenaline-pumping activities. Families can enjoy river rafting on the Ganges, embark on thrilling treks, try ziplining, and engage in camping amidst picturesque landscapes. 2. Jim Corbett National Park, Uttarakhand 🐯🌳 For wildlife enthusiasts, a visit to Jim Corbett National Park is a must. Families can experience and explore adventure thrilling jungle safaris, spot majestic tigers, engage in birdwatching, and enjoy nature walks in this renowned tiger reserve. 3. Goa 🏖️🌴 Goa offers a perfect blend of adventure and relaxation for families. Enjoy water sports like parasailing, banana boat rides, and jet skiing at popular beaches. Explore spice plantations, visit wildlife sanctuaries, and indulge in the vibrant Goan culture. 4. Andaman and Nicobar Islands 🏝️🐠 The pristine beaches, crystal-clear waters, and abundant marine life of the Andaman and Nicobar Islands provide an ideal setting for family adventure. Snorkeling, scuba diving, glass-bottom boat ride adventures, and exploring the fascinating coral reefs are some of the exciting activities families can enjoy together. 5. Manali, Himachal Pradesh 🏔️❄️ Nestled amidst the snow-capped Himalayas, Manali offers an array of adventure activities for families. From thrilling skiing and snowboarding in winters to paragliding, river rafting, and trekking in summers, this picturesque hill station has something for everyone. 6. Darjeeling, West Bengal 🚂🌄 The scenic beauty of Darjeeling combined with the famous toy train ride is a delight for families. explore trips tea plantations, enjoy panoramic views of the Himalayas, go on nature walks, and experience the joy of riding the UNESCO World Heritage Darjeeling Himalayan Railway. 7. Rajasthan 🏰🐫 Rajasthan, with its magnificent forts, palaces, and desert landscapes, offers a unique blend of adventure and cultural exploration. Families can enjoy camel safaris, explore historic forts, witness traditional folk dances, and savor the flavors of Rajasthani cuisine. 8. Auli, Uttarakhand ⛷️🏔️ Auli is a paradise for skiing enthusiasts and families seeking winter adventures. Enjoy skiing on the slopes of the Garhwal Himalayas, take cable car rides for breathtaking views, and engage in snowball fights for some wholesome family fun. Remember to choose activities and destinations based on the ages and interests of your family members. Prioritize safety, follow guidelines, and opt for reputable tour operators when engaging in adventure activities. India offers an abundance of nature adventure travel destinations, each with its own unique charm and experiences. So, pack your bags, embark on a thrilling journey, and create lifelong memories with your loved ones in the vibrant tapestry of India's adventure-filled destinations. Happy travels and thrilling adventures to you and your family! 🌟🌎👨👩👧👦 To know about Trekking options in India Click Here ! |
2023.06.05 15:17 stonescoldtakes NFL Update: 05/29/2023 - 06/04/2023 - OTAs Week 2!!!
Layout:
— Individual Team News + Stone’s Cold Takes
— Miscellaneous/Other NFL News
— Restaurant of the Week - Pittsburgh
Arizona Cardinals:
Atlanta Falcons:
Baltimore Ravens:
Buffalo Bills:
Carolina Panthers:
Chicago Bears:
Cincinnati Bengals:
Cleveland Browns:
Dallas Cowboys:
Denver Broncos:
Detroit Lions:
Green Bay Packers:
Houston Texans:
Indianapolis Colts:
Jacksonville Jaguars:
Kansas City Chiefs:
Las Vegas Raiders:
Los Angeles Chargers:
Los Angeles Rams:
Miami Dolphins:
Minnesota Vikings:
New England Patriots:
New Orleans Saints:
New York Giants:
New York Jets:
Philadelphia Eagles:
Pittsburgh Steelers:
San Francisco 49ers:
Seattle Seahawks:
Tampa Bay Buccaneers:
Tennessee Titans:
Washington Commanders:
Miscellaneous/Other NFL News:
Restaurant of the Week: (Pittsburgh - Burgatory)
Get excited Pittsburgh fans and all folks going to a game here! Burgatory is only a half mile from the stadium and has some of the best food so far from the restaurants that have been featured. One of my personal favorites is the Piggy Butter & Jelly. Yes, that is a burger with peanut butter and jelly on it. Don’t question it just try it. However, if for some reason you do not my other recommendation would be The Triple B which is a Bison, Beer Cheese, and Bacon burger. Hence the name Triple B. You can’t really go wrong with anything on the menu and the important thing though is that you don’t forget to grab a shake as well. My personal favorite is the Oreo Peanut Butter Pie shake. They are open every day starting at 11am and closer at 9pm everyday except for Friday and Saturday when they close at 11pm. Hop on over and enjoy this delicious food when in town for a game!
submitted by stonescoldtakes to nfl [link] [comments]
— Individual Team News + Stone’s Cold Takes
— Miscellaneous/Other NFL News
— Restaurant of the Week - Pittsburgh
Arizona Cardinals:
- RB James Conner likes being an underdog
- HC Jonathan Gannon wanted to move forward with who was all in on the team when asked about DeAndre Hopkins
- Gained $4.21m in cap space after June 1st deadline
- QB Clayton Tune could work his way into a starting spot
- Potentially interested in moving on from LB Isaiah Simmons
Atlanta Falcons:
- Team expects TE Kyle Pitts to be ready for season opener
- Ditching gradient uniforms and will wear throwbacks 3 times
Baltimore Ravens:
- WR Zay Flowers is impressing with his route running capabilities early on
Buffalo Bills:
- Rumored that QB Josh Allen will be featured on the cover of Madden
- Signed:
- DT Ed Oliver to a 4-year $68m extension with $45m guaranteed
- WR Marcell Ateman
- OT Brandon Shell
- Supposedly out on WR DeAndre Hopkins
- Expect Edge Von Miller to be back for the season opener
Carolina Panthers:
- QB Bryce Young is already impressing with his poise
- Plan to use some Deebo Samuel-like packages for WR Laviska Shenault
Chicago Bears:
- Have other sites in mind potentially for a new stadium besides Arlington
- QB Justin Fields donated $10,000 to the special olympics
- WR DJ Moore has been performing well in OTAs
- Stadium is at risk after property tax assessment
Cincinnati Bengals:
- WR Tyler Boyd feels they one-upped the Chiefs signing Orlando Brown Jr.
- DE Sam Hubbard excited for what’s next this season
- Will hold joint practices with the Packers
Cleveland Browns:
- Strong possibility that WR DeAndre Hopkins ends up here
- QB Deshaun Watson is working hard to recruit him
- DC Jim Schwartz sees a benefit in d-linemen playing fewer snaps to stay fresh
- Gained $10.9m in cap space after June 1st release deadline
Dallas Cowboys:
- Started long-term extension talks with CB Trevon Diggs
- WR Antonio Callaway was arrested Saturday in Miami
- Micah Parsons is more concerned with making impactful plays on defense
- Supposedly out on WR DeAndre Hopkins
- RB Tony Pollard is a little ahead of schedule with rehab
- Gained $10.9m in cap space after June 1st deadline
Denver Broncos:
- HC Sean Payton puts a heavy emphasis on the importance of Guards in the NFL
- Released RB Jacques Patrick
- Gained $3.75m in cap space after June 1st deadline
- Signed:
- K Elliott Fry
Detroit Lions:
- OC Ben Johnson expects offense to take a huge step forward this season
- RB Jahymr Gibbs has been standing out in practice running and catching the ball
- OT Penei Sewell is embracing leadership role
- S Tracy Walker expects to be fully cleared for camp
Green Bay Packers:
- WR Romeo Doubs doesn’t think there will be a regression with QB Jordan Love
- OL David Bakhtiari says disrespectful to say they are rebuilding
- Will hold joint practices with the Bengals
Houston Texans:
- QB CJ Stroud is ahead of where the team expected him to be at this point
- RT Tytus Howard is in line for a big extension
- Released DT Taylor Stallworth with injury settlement
- Will hold joint practices with the Dolphins and Saints
Indianapolis Colts:
- QB Anthony Richardson is looking really good overall
- Worked out WR Breshad Perriman
Jacksonville Jaguars:
- K Brandon McManus called special teams coach to express interest in the team after being cut
- EDGE Josh Allen is the only player under contract not attending voluntary OTAs
- Being cautious with WR Calvin Ridley during OTAs
- Plan to have a RB committee approach
Kansas City Chiefs:
- Wife of Chiefs owner Norma Hunt passed at the age of 85
- Supposedly out on WR DeAndre Hopkins
- WR Justyn Ross has the trust of QB Patrick Mahomes
Las Vegas Raiders:
- Open to listening to trade offers for WR Hunter Renfrow
- HC Josh McDaniels is not worried about QB Jimmy Garoppolo’s foot surgery
Los Angeles Chargers:
- WR Quentin Johnson has been impressive according to teammates Keenan Allen
- OT Rashawn Slater is at 100% and has been for quite some time
Los Angeles Rams:
- DC Raheem Morris helped save drowning child
- Signed:
- WR Tyler Johnson
Miami Dolphins:
- Hope to sign DT Christian Wilkins to an extension before the season
- QB Tua Tagovailoa is completely healthy and showing signs of growth as a leader
- Real possibility they end up with RB Dalvin Cook this year
- Opted to only use 6 of 10 available days of OTAs
- Gained $13.6m in cap space after June 1st deadline
- Will hold joint practices with the Texans
Minnesota Vikings:
- Seems that only thing left for RB Dalvin Cook is an announcement of how he will be leaving the team by trade or by getting cut
- Head Coach Kevin O’Connell described RB Alexander Mattison as a every down RB
- Paid off their debt on stadium 23 years earlier saving taxpayers $226m in interest
- Expected that WR Justin Jefferson to be highest paid WR when he signs his extension
- Will have joint practices with Tennessee
New England Patriots:
- QB Mac Jones is aiming to earn the respect of his teammates
New Orleans Saints:
- DE Cam Jordan will play for the team as long as he wants
- QB Jameis Winston feels that he is still a starting QB in the league
- Excited to WR Michael Thomas to be ready for camp
- Will hold joint practices with the Texans
- HC Dennis Allen had Jon Gruden attend OTAs in order to aid offense with QB Derek Carr
- TE Juwan Johnson has been studying Julian Edelman tape at QB Derek Carr’s urging
New York Giants:
- Did homework on WR DeAndre Hopkins and are now supposedly not interested in pursuing him
- Officially added Ryan Cowden as executive advisor the general manager
- QB Daniel Jones is ok with rookie center John Michael Schmitz using “dead snap” technique
New York Jets:
- QB Aaron Rodgers has enjoyed the communication within the organization
- Signed:
- OL Yodny Cajuste
- Released OL Eric Smith
- The team and Quinnen Williams are not far off in contract talks
Philadelphia Eagles:
- Team is excited for QB Jalen Hurts to make another huge leap
- Offered to trade for QB Russell Wilson but Wilson did not want to play in Philly
- DT Jordan Davis broke a blocking sled
Pittsburgh Steelers:
- First round pick Broderick Jones getting 1st-team reps at Left Tackle
San Francisco 49ers:
- S Ji’Ayir Brown is already taking first team reps and has stood out in OTAs
- GM John Lynch feels QB Trey Lance has had a really quality offseason
- Very encouraged by progress and throwing session QB Brock Purdy had
- DL Arik Armstead very excited about adding Javon Hargrave to the group
- RB Christian McCaffrey excited to have a full offseason with HC Kyle Shanahan
- Plan to make DE Nick Bosa highest paid defensive player
Seattle Seahawks:
- HC Pete Carroll expects his team to be aggressive when returning kicks and expects more squib kicks to be used
- WR Jaxon Smith-Njigba has been extremely impressive
- Signed:
- Benjie Franklin
- Montrae Braswell
- Cut:
- Forrest Merrill
- LaTrell Bumphus
Tampa Bay Buccaneers:
- Antoine Winfield Jr. is expected to play Free Safety this year
- Respect is a key factor in the quarterback battle that is ongoing
- WR Chris Godwin feels his explosiveness coming back
Tennessee Titans:
- Longtime executive Bob Hyde passed away
- QB Will Levis had a rough week at practice
- P Brett Kern announced his retirement
- Will have joint practice with Minnesota
- Signed:
- DL Jaleel Johnson
Washington Commanders:
- The Josh Harris bid after making some changes is inching closer to full approval
- CB Emmanuel Forbes has been thriving in the slot
- QB Sam Howell has looked the part and is taking command of the offense thus far
- OC Eric Bieniemy wants everyone to be like WR Terry McLaurin
- Gained $8.37m in cap space after June 1st deadline
- Released CB Cameron Dantzler
- Releasing G Andrew Norwell once he passes physical
Miscellaneous/Other NFL News:
- Still no announcement as to who will be the team featured on Hard Knocks
- CB Damar Hamlin is leading a multi-city CPAED tour
- Several NFL teams are waiting for RB Dalvin Cook to be cut
- Yannick Ngakoue wants a multi-year deal with a Super Bowl contender
- Chiefsaholic fan is still on the loose
- Tom Brady is certain he is done playing and has tried to make that clear to other teams
- RB Ezekiel Elliott is staying in shape
- Executive are nervous about WR DeAndre Hopkins ability to separate and run at this point in his career
- Less than 100 days from the NFL season
Restaurant of the Week: (Pittsburgh - Burgatory)
Get excited Pittsburgh fans and all folks going to a game here! Burgatory is only a half mile from the stadium and has some of the best food so far from the restaurants that have been featured. One of my personal favorites is the Piggy Butter & Jelly. Yes, that is a burger with peanut butter and jelly on it. Don’t question it just try it. However, if for some reason you do not my other recommendation would be The Triple B which is a Bison, Beer Cheese, and Bacon burger. Hence the name Triple B. You can’t really go wrong with anything on the menu and the important thing though is that you don’t forget to grab a shake as well. My personal favorite is the Oreo Peanut Butter Pie shake. They are open every day starting at 11am and closer at 9pm everyday except for Friday and Saturday when they close at 11pm. Hop on over and enjoy this delicious food when in town for a game!
2023.06.05 15:11 haroldkebba I Think My Village Was Haunted By God... [Part 1]
I hope this is the right place and someone can tell me what may have been going on in my village. I moved here a few weeks ago. It's a small village in the heart of Russia and my parents and I came here because things start to get really bad in Moscow and my father lost his job. I don't know why we had to move to this isolated village, so far away from civilization. Maybe my parents wanted peace and quiet? To escape the things in that city, the poisoned minds?
The houses here had all been far below average in price. Almost everyone who lives here has moved here recently.
But, there are crazy rumors about this village that people tell each other. It was found abandoned in the mid-nineties. Where everyone went, no one knows. They say that no signs of people were found at all, nothing. But... everywhere in and around the village… strange patches of earth had been discovered, circular and smooth. Not only in the forest or on the road, but also in the dilapidated wooden houses. At our new neighbors' house, one of the mysterious spots had supposedly been found right in the living room floor, where the floorboards had been just cut away.
These rumors scare me. I am afraid of this village. But yesterday... I was redoing the floor in my room with my father and there... I found a notebook under the old boards. I hid it from my father, I don't know why... Someone must have left it there.
Last night... that's when I read it. I read it and now I'm incredibly afraid of this house and this village. Of the fields and the woods that surround me. The notebook apparently belonged to someone called Ilya Vasiliev. I have tried to translate what he wrote, hoping that someone here can help me find an explanation for the rumors. For this uneasy feeling that I have since I moved here...
***********
I am fine. I want that to be clear from the beginning. My story is strange and in huge parts troubling, but I am still in the best state of mental health.
I am fine!
My story begins seven months ago, in December 1979, when deep winter was upon our village. We were preparing for Christmas, the first Christmas to be celebrated publicly throughout the village, after years of having to practice our faith in secret because the Soviet government did not allow religions. Only in the last few years did the Reds' view loosen and they allowed small islands of faith. One of them was my village, which finally dared to celebrate and praise the Lord.
I have been a believer all twenty years of my life, an exemplary Christian, just like my parents. Faith had kept our family line alive in times of terror and misery. Death had always been close to us, as the fields where most of the population of our village had worked for generations had once brought the end of hundreds of people. Many years ago, on those fields, atrocities had occurred that had finally given them their present name: The Fields of Death.
I myself had not been born back then, not by a long shot, but my grandparents had spent their childhood there, a childhood full of hunger and depravity. My grandfather Fomenko often told me and my sister the stories he had experienced and how faith had saved everyone. There had been a long, cold winter and the grain had been confiscated by the government to be taken to the cities for distribution. After all, the grain belonged to all the people, not just those on the farms who planted it, tended to it, and harvested it. And so, the only food of that time left my grandfather's village and never came back. Some of his neighbors had once tried to hold back some grain, to hide some sacks, but when they were caught, a hail of bullets determined their fate. People lived in fear, not daring to stop working, not daring to keep for themselves the food that was destined for the common good. In those days, horrors happened in my village that I cannot truly picture today, not even when I hear my grandfather's usually clear voice begin to tremble. When I see in his eyes that he would rather forget, in order to experience a peaceful sleep once again… someday.
He told us about those horrors to warn us of how quickly life can plunge from safety into infinite terror. Winter had reigned. The grain was being hauled away. They still shot all those who tried to keep back pieces of it, be it a sack or some husks that had fallen from a cart. In time, hunger began to drive people in our village insane. Parents locked up their children so they wouldn't be taken by neighbors to feed their hunger. Friends turned their backs on each other and killed each other in fights for the last livestock that was still breathing. The streets reeked of decay and death, of misery and suffering. One day, my grandfather told us, he had hidden in the back room of his house while his parents dragged themselves, emaciated, to the fields to pick the last scraps of grain from the furrows with their dirty, half-frozen fingers. He had come across a book there, a book that had saved his life.
The word of God. An old Bible.
My grandfather had learned to read at an early age, one of the sad advantages of living in the Soviet Union.
It was in the room I now live in that Grandfather Fomenko had found the dusty book. Actually, he had been looking for something to eat, the days before he had found some sawdust. But despite his hunger and the grumbling in his stomach, eating the book was out of the question. Books were sacred, and no book as sacred as this one. He had begun to read and learned about the greatness of the Lord. Of the miracles his Son had performed. And of the magic of faith. His stomach had growled, but he had ignored it. The words gave him comfort.
The next day he immersed himself in the book again, disappearing into better worlds and times, hearing wisdom and encouragement. But around noon there was a knock at the door. My grandfather emphasized each time that he had not been afraid, that he had known that the Lord would protect him, when the old neighbor gained entrance to our house armed with a cleaver. It was clear what he wanted: Meat. My grandfather told us each time about how the neighbor had looked more undead than human, stinking and with sunken eyes, smelling like death from his mouth, the cleaver trembling in his hand.
"I'm sorry, boy," was all the man could get out.
My grandfather tried to mimic this poor man’s voice at the end of his wits, to express his pain through words so that we understood that poor fellow a little.
The Lord's words had given courage to my grandfather in his most terrible moments. He had stood up and firmly said:
"Away with you, the Lord protects the inhabitants of this house!"
But the intruder did not care, coming closer. And so, my grandfather again sought comfort and prayed. He prayed for mercy and peace and for his life. He would serve the Lord for the rest of his days. Trust Him blindly.
Suddenly, like a gruesome miracle, the famished intruder let out an inhuman groan and collapsed, lifeless and debilitated. There had been no hunger for my grandfather and his family for a week after that. My grandfather had been praying to the Lord since that day, thanking Him for His mercy. The story spread around the village and out of desperation or hope, in the next few days everyone secretly knelt in front of small wooden crosses they had made themselves and prayed to the Lord. A week later, like a miracle, the long-awaited delivery of grain arrived, along with spring. There had not been another bad time since then.
These events are the reason for the faith in our village... and our family. The psalm my grandfather had prayed as the hungry neighbor attacked had become the guiding psalm of our faith. All these years we had not been able to celebrate Christmas with the other families, but since the restrictions on faith communities had been relaxed, we had all finally decided to celebrate the holy festival in the village square. And so, we started the preparations.
There, in those evening hours, my part of the story begins. I and my younger sister Zarina, together with other youths and young adults, were fetching wood for the fire that was to burn in the center of our village. So, we went out into the night, dressed with thick pelts, to fetch logs from the edge of the fields that some men had prepared.
My breath could be seen as an icy breeze in the dawning darkness and I was already looking forward to dancing around the fire with everyone later, drinking good drinks and eating sumptuously. I was glad that we didn't have to walk across the fields themselves, but could stroll along their edge to get the logs.
You can feel death when it has hit a place. I was glad that I didn't have to work the fields myself, and had learned the carpentry trade. Therefore, I was spared from having to wander around there every day, among the echoes of past atrocities and sadness.
We were all in good spirits, strolling over the muddy ground, when all at once Zarina pointed up and into the clear night sky.
"Look, an angel is descending!" she exclaimed excitedly.
We all looked to where her outstretched hand pointed. A round light glowed in the night sky, glaring yellowish and shining strangely cold.
"It's singing! At Christmas! The Lord puts our feast under his sign!" Zarina cried.
We stopped and listened into the silence of the night. At first, I could hear nothing, at first, everything remained quiet, and only the distant beating of axes and the rustling of the wind in the treetops were audible.
But then, there in the wind, I could hear it, briefly but clearly. It was a kind of melodic whisper, joyful, yet also strange and otherworldly. It was heard only very briefly, and soon died away as the glow flew out of sight and disappeared somewhere far away.
"Let's go find the angel! Let's..." Zarina cried, continuing excitedly, but I interrupted her.
"We have to get the wood. We can report back to the village later, if it hasn't already been noticed there too," I said.
"You heard the singing! Surely that was an angel. Shall we leave it there? It may have gotten hurt, it must have hit something!" Sasha murmured.
Sasha was my oldest friend and one of the boys who worked on the fields. He had always been very caring and had always tried to help where he could. His parents were long dead and the old lady who had raised him was no longer around, either. So, he struggled along, working the fields, but the rest of us looked out for him.
"Shouldn't we go and look for it, Ilya?", Sasha continued to urge me anxiously.
We thought about it for a long time but decided to leave the decision to the others in the village. Trusting the Lord to guide our actions, we quickly moved on in the direction of the woodcutters to complete our task.
We were not the only ones who had seen the glow. When we returned to the village square loaded with logs, everyone was in great excitement and full of joy that the Lord had sent us this sign of His greatness. Not everyone agreed whether it was an angel or a return of the poinsettia that had been witnessed, but everyone was sure that the Lord had sent us encouragement. So, we celebrated our first Christmas full of joy and pleasure, with good food, dancing and singing, full of happiness and under the protection of the Almighty Lord. I will always think back to those days, always keep in my heart how I glimpsed a part of the Lord in the sky.
We all talked about the event and even the older people were fascinated and inspired. Even my grandfather and the others who had witnessed the worst death and misery in the world seemed to slowly find a spiritual peace they would never have dreamed of otherwise. They were happy and strengthened in their faith. However, we were not sure if it had really been an angel who had come down and so we hesitated to go and look for the creature of God.
But in the night, after the light had shone in the sky, I was awakened by Zarina crying in her sleep. I straightened up and slowly paced over to her bed, where in the semi-darkness she began to squirm, shaken by spasms.
"No, no, no..." she moaned painfully.
I began to shake her to wake her up. Zarina did not respond to me. Her face was like a distorted mask hiding something bad underneath. Her breathing became shallow, and she began to whimper. I was terrified and began to pray. The Lord had to save her, He just had to save her!
Zarina twitched more and more, started coughing and whimpering louder and louder. Slowly, the rest of the family woke up and my parents and grandfather huddled tightly around her, praying for her to open her eyes.
"Please, don't take our child! She has only been in your world for fourteen years..." my father cried, as panicked and desperate as I had ever seen before.
His thick, black mustache trembled with fear.
Then, abruptly, Zarina stopped convulsing.
For a terrible moment she just lay there, her hair disheveled, her face pale in the glow of the candle my mother held over her.
"Mom, Dad, Ilya, Grandpa... what's wrong?" she suddenly asked sleepily.
For a moment it was as if nothing had happened, as if I hadn't just seen my sister almost die, but then she began to cry.
"What's wrong, dear?" my father asked, just as pale in the face as Zarina.
It took a while before she found some calm and was able to talk to us.
Finally, she croaked:
"I saw the angel. I was with him."
A revelation? Had the Lord touched my sister?
We all said another prayer and finally, filled with awe, I asked:
"Where did you see the angel? Is it here? With us?"
She looked at me briefly, seemed to hesitate for a little moment, and then reported:
"I was with it… in a dream. It was in a white village, a village made of angel dust. I saw it. It didn't have wings and that's why at first I wasn't sure if it was an angel. However, soon it spoke to me."
"What did it say, Zarina?", I asked tensely.
"It said it was not God, but 'the Witness'. It sounded like a man and a woman and a child and a baby and... It felt peaceful. Calm and carefree. Then I woke up."
"An angel. Angels are the witnesses of God, that's how it must be!" my father said enthusiastically.
Suddenly, everyone seemed to be talking at once.
No one knew what Zarina's words meant, but we were sure that they contained something incomprehensible that we, as ordinary people, could not understand. But everyone was delighted. Everyone was caught in a beautiful dream.
The next day, the adults sat together in the large barn near the edge of the village, which was used for community events. Most of them found seats on the lined up wooden benches and the rest stood crowded against the old walls, some of which were already rotten. Dimitri, probably the closest thing to a mayor, sat at a heavy pine table at the end of the room, staring at the crowd, while my parents and Zarina sat on old chairs in front of him. Tensely, the crowd looked at them, waiting for someone to say something. Finally, Dimitri cleared his throat thoughtfully.
"You... all saw or heard about the falling star. It was brighter than the others that keep crossing our sky and much more... melodic. Some even heard the singing. Whoever still doubted that the Lord sent us his messenger... doubts are now useless. Zarina has received a vision. She has seen how the angel, who was sent by God, walked on our earth, and visited a village and consecrated it with its grace. She has seen the angel marching to spread holiness in these lands..."
"Are we sure?"
Mary, the dressmaker, had stood up. She was still young, my age and Sasha's, and she always wore her blond hair carefully braided, her dresses self-made, blood red and flashy, with silver embroidery. As always, she wore makeup - a luxury not many could afford. In other places she would have been considered a lady, but she was also a skeptical person, and I had not liked her very much since childhood, because she often made insinuations that seemed to go against the Lord. Also, she had never played with us outside and had always thought of herself as someone… better. I was shocked that she now so obviously doubted the Lord's actions.
"Mary. Zarina has seen a vision. The Lord spoke to her through her dreams! An angel has joined us. How can you deny it?" my father asked coldly.
"I'm not denying it, I'm just saying, what if there is something dark that the angel was sent to fight? What if it is going into battle against some unknown evil? The angel may be spreading sanctities, but we have no idea if it is trying to redeem us or defend us..."
"It said it was a witness of God," I noted.
"That's what Zarina said when she woke up."
"Then it is benevolent to us! We must find it!" someone shouted from one of the back rows.
An excited murmur began to spread through the room.
"Silence!" Dimitri thundered.
His face looked hard but determined.
"We have to get to it! If it is a message from heaven that the angel wants to bring us, we must hear it! How many can we spare? Who would even want to voluntarily leave the village? We don't know how long the journey will be, and you yourselves know how dangerous this area can be..."
A loud commotion broke out. Everyone shouted at once and volunteered. I also jumped up and loudly offered to go out to look for it.
The angel. The Witness of the Lord.
I imagined meeting it in a clearing, under a full moon. Hearing its bright voice, gaze in awe at its graceful form, and fall to my knees in prayer before it.
"SILENCE!" Dimitri shouted.
"You can't all go. The kids wouldn't make it in the deadly cold out there. Let seven go. Seven is the Lord's number, there must be seven! Seven workers from the fields! We can't spare any more!"
"You can't be serious!" I cried out.
Cold anger boiled up inside me.
"I want to go, too. We all want to. You can't just stand there and make a decision like that!"
Others joined in.
"SILENCE," Alexeij now thundered, the master blacksmith.
"We need you! Daniil, Ilya, Nikita, you have a job to do! We can't get by without you! You can't go, be reasonable!"
"But if the Lord wills it, he will make sure that everything here will work out. That nothing will happen!", I tried to argue, still boiling with anger.
"No. Winter is tugging at our huts, we need you," my father said slowly.
"So do the others. Without you, it's going to be tight. The fields lie under the snow, but everything else will be weakened by time and storms. We can only spare the field hands. Besides, they're the ones most likely to withstand the cold and the wilderness; after all, they're constantly out on the Fields of Death, toiling in the wind and rain. They'll all make the trip!"
I tried to change his mind, and several came to my aid, all those who were also forced to stay.
"You can manage without a dressmaker! I want to go too!" Mary cried defiantly, her cheeks red with anger, her nose wrinkled.
This young woman really believed she deserved the sight of the angel! She really believed her hypocrisies would deceive the Lord, despite her obvious doubts about His divinity!
Others also complained, young and old, many who didn't deserve to go and even those who did.
But it didn't help.
Dimitri was in charge. Everyone knew that. If we started to contradict him, our village would soon end up in chaos. And deep down I knew that I had to stay. That I had to take care of my sister, who would not survive a trip in the snow. That I had to repair the huts that the storms would eat away at.
Sasha was a field worker, he was allowed to go. Sasha and Sofia, Anatoly and old Igor, Ivan and Yulia and Mikhail. When the decision was made, a decision many of us accepted only with heavy hearts and which brought out deep envy in several faces, some of the chosen ones began to cry. They were happy, fulfilled... satisfied. They would see the messenger of the Lord, hear its melodious voice, sing its hymns.
Why wasn't I allowed to go? Why was the world so unfair? I had always believed in the Lord, prayed to Him, been subject to Him and lived according to His will. Why hadn't he chosen me to see his messenger? I had been so proud back when I had been allowed to learn the carpenter's trade and thus had not to go to the Fields of Death to toil there. At that time, I had felt like someone better when I saw Sasha and Sofia setting out early in the morning with all the other workers, with their old-fashioned plows and thick, shabby clothes.
Was this the punishment for my arrogance?
The Lord knew everything. He had seen what repulsive thoughts I had had, how superior I had felt to the others. Perhaps it was my punishment that I was not allowed to go. Perhaps the Lord was no longer favorable to me and I would have to prove myself to Him.
The next day, the seven set out north. They were seen off with singing and dancing; they were the center of the village’s attention. Envy threatened to drown me.
Why not me? Why wasn't I allowed to go? Why did I have to stay here?
And I knew: it was because of these thoughts. I wasn't pure enough. I had to get better, work on myself.
As the others disappeared from sight, as the small group seemed to be swallowed up by a patch of forest between distant trees, an icy chill ran down my spine.
What if they really did encounter evil? What if Mary had been right?
I prayed to the Lord that they would return home safely: Even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you.
He would bring them home safely, our pilgrims. I did not begrudge them their happiness. I was not a selfish person, was not complacent like Mary or some others in the village. I lived by the word of the Lord and I would not begrudge them.
They would all return home safely.
I continued to stare into the distance for a long time as my suppressed envy sought to consume me. But I was winning.
For darkness is as light to you.
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Even though the days and weeks passed, I never forgot to think of all those who had set out to witness the glory of the Lord. The cold winter had passed and frost and cold left the land, so that soon we could begin to prepare the fields for sowing. Since the sighting of the angel had caused us to let some of the farm workers leave, and they stayed away longer than we had expected, I had to join others in helping to plow the Fields of Death. The work was exhausting and made me physically very tired, since I still had to work in the carpenter's shop as well. We could not afford tractors, so we still had to resort to older tools. So, it happened that one day I was driving one of the hand plows through the dirty ground and was lost in my thoughts and full of sweat.
I was quite far away from the village, as the nearby surroundings had been worked shortly after the beginning of the thaw. The fields were extensive, partly reaching further than the eye could see. Only in one direction the dense forest extended, which introduced the beginning of a dark hilly landscape, that finally merged northward into high, alien mountains, whose white peaks rose high into the sky and, like once the tower of Babel, blasphemously tried to penetrate the heavens. But next to these distant giants there was only the plain, the vast plain that had to be tilled.
I hated the field work. And I hated the fields.
Every time I even thought about this piece of hell that had become reality long ago, my stomach turned. All the events that clung to this dark place, all the human lives and suffering that had sown the ground with death and blood here many years ago....
It was even worse when you stood in the fields yourself, truly being there on your own. It was as if I could smell it in the air, the rot of the starving and the hot blood that had watered the soil. It was as if I could still hear in the air the cries and wailing of the people who had met their end here, who had pleaded for their lives and the lives of their children and friends. It was as if I could see them in the early morning fog banks that lay on the Fields of Death, the shadows of people past, crawling and cowering, weak and starved. I had to pull myself together and look away, into the forest. A place does not forget, a place always remembers the days gone by and the cries that had been.
The plow pulled through the ground, ripping a furrow behind it. It was almost a bit comforting to imagine I was gutting this place of horror with my labor, inflicting deep wounds. Hypnotized, I stared down over and over again, watching the ground swirl to one side, smelling the fresh earth being pushed to the surface. But never could I escape my terrible feelings and the forebodings, never could I forget what kind of place I was at.
The few times I looked to the forest beside me, my thoughts wandered enviously to all those who had set out to find the angel. Had they reached it yet? Had they already learned from it what needed to be done for God's power on earth to be strengthened so that false prophets and promises could be swept away? How to drown the selfishness of the state? What needed to be done to serve the Lord?
Oh, how I would have loved to be there! How I would have loved to go with them, but I also understood the decision not to send everyone, and I understood my family's objections. I was needed here. I could serve the Lord here by tilling the fields and taking care of the soil and the sowing. I had to care for my sister.
I had already made several furrows when noon came. The sun was almost not visible, just a murky spot behind the clouds, and the fog had not lifted either. The world looked pale and apathetic. But amongst all the desolation I could suddenly hear something, something that seemed to come out of the forest.
It was at first just like a rustling in the wind that sounded a bit too regular, such that it triggered a natural uneasiness in me. I looked into the forest, but could hardly make out anything through the dense plants and the still lingering fog. That is why it was left to my own thoughts to imagine what was there, what was producing this strange noise.
I could not remember any animal that made similar sounds, was at a loss.
Suddenly, a bang echoed through the forest, accompanied by a panicked scream that broke inhumanly from the trees and spread across the fields.
Then, something new joined the sounds in the air.
The trees and bushes rustled, almost seemed to be torn apart.
Something was running through the forest, something seemed to be... coming right at me.
Was it perhaps a startled bear, an elk, or a wild boar?
Had one of the hunters from the village accidentally startled an animal, scared it in the wrong direction and now wanted to warn us with their cry? But then, why this panicked sound...?
I paused, took my hands off the rusty handles of the plow, and turned toward the forest. Still, I could only see fog, I could only hear rustling, but slowly I could also make out grunts and groans coming to me from the fog. It sounded heavy and panic-stricken.
Was I in danger? I began to pray to the Lord and ask him for assistance. I was not a fighter and so I had to hope that nothing would reach me from the depths between the trees that could easily tear me apart.
Even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you.
My baptismal motto gave me courage. The Lord saw me, even in my darkness, and would be with me.
For darkness is as light to you.
Then, someone burst out of the bushes and the fog and rushed toward me.
It was Sasha.
I almost didn't recognize him. His skin was pale, almost snow-white. His black hair stuck to his sweaty face. His pants and jacket were almost completely torn, so I could see his dirty shirt and his cut and bruised legs through the holes. There were also some small cuts on his face that worried me. Sasha's eyes twitched searchingly, panicked, and in his hand, he held the rifle that he had taken with him when he had once set out. Apparently, he had run through brush and thorns, had gotten scrapes and wounds from stones and branches.
When he saw me and looked at me with his big, panic-filled eyes, I became horridly afraid.
It was as if… behind his eyes there was no Sasha anymore, but only an animal. As if instinct had taken over his thoughts when an unnamable terror had entered his world. An animal inside him, which had enabled him to escape from... something.
Sasha staggered out of the forest, it was almost as if all strength left him now that he was back home. The rifle fell from his hand and dug into the mud beneath his feet. He limped slowly toward me, not taking his eyes off me. Then, suddenly, he wheeled around and looked back into the forest and the mist.
Only for a moment.
Again, he let out a shrill scream and sprinted the last few meters. When I looked into the forest myself, I saw nothing, only the fog.
But, didn't I feel a presence there, in the bushes? Between the trees?
I didn't see anything.
Sasha had reached me and collapsed. I quickly knelt down next to him and called for help. But the other field workers had already rushed over, obviously attracted by the rifle shot. I was in a trance, seeing only Sasha lying there, supporting his head. His eyes were still twitching around and despite my proximity he didn't seem to recognize me. He looked at me, confused.
"Sasha, what happened?", I asked, feeling his forehead.
Despite his paleness, he was uncomfortably hot.
A fever raged in his body. Who knew how long he had been running around there among the trees, his protective, warming jacket torn? With wounds that had not been tended and some of which were still bleeding?
Then another horrible thought occurred to me.
"Sasha, where are the others? Sasha, where are the others?"
This question apparently brought back some clarity that his gaze had not possessed before.
"They... they took them. Took all of them... All of them. All our brothers, all our sisters... all of them," he gurgled.
*********
So, this is the first part of what I found. I will hurry to translate the rest! But I will definitely stay out of the woods for now... They are still as creepy as described by Ilya in this document and fog ist still around every morning... Also, I don't know what to make of Ilya himself as well, is he just a religious nut and that is the explanation? I just don't know...
submitted by haroldkebba to nosleep [link] [comments]
The houses here had all been far below average in price. Almost everyone who lives here has moved here recently.
But, there are crazy rumors about this village that people tell each other. It was found abandoned in the mid-nineties. Where everyone went, no one knows. They say that no signs of people were found at all, nothing. But... everywhere in and around the village… strange patches of earth had been discovered, circular and smooth. Not only in the forest or on the road, but also in the dilapidated wooden houses. At our new neighbors' house, one of the mysterious spots had supposedly been found right in the living room floor, where the floorboards had been just cut away.
These rumors scare me. I am afraid of this village. But yesterday... I was redoing the floor in my room with my father and there... I found a notebook under the old boards. I hid it from my father, I don't know why... Someone must have left it there.
Last night... that's when I read it. I read it and now I'm incredibly afraid of this house and this village. Of the fields and the woods that surround me. The notebook apparently belonged to someone called Ilya Vasiliev. I have tried to translate what he wrote, hoping that someone here can help me find an explanation for the rumors. For this uneasy feeling that I have since I moved here...
***********
I am fine. I want that to be clear from the beginning. My story is strange and in huge parts troubling, but I am still in the best state of mental health.
I am fine!
My story begins seven months ago, in December 1979, when deep winter was upon our village. We were preparing for Christmas, the first Christmas to be celebrated publicly throughout the village, after years of having to practice our faith in secret because the Soviet government did not allow religions. Only in the last few years did the Reds' view loosen and they allowed small islands of faith. One of them was my village, which finally dared to celebrate and praise the Lord.
I have been a believer all twenty years of my life, an exemplary Christian, just like my parents. Faith had kept our family line alive in times of terror and misery. Death had always been close to us, as the fields where most of the population of our village had worked for generations had once brought the end of hundreds of people. Many years ago, on those fields, atrocities had occurred that had finally given them their present name: The Fields of Death.
I myself had not been born back then, not by a long shot, but my grandparents had spent their childhood there, a childhood full of hunger and depravity. My grandfather Fomenko often told me and my sister the stories he had experienced and how faith had saved everyone. There had been a long, cold winter and the grain had been confiscated by the government to be taken to the cities for distribution. After all, the grain belonged to all the people, not just those on the farms who planted it, tended to it, and harvested it. And so, the only food of that time left my grandfather's village and never came back. Some of his neighbors had once tried to hold back some grain, to hide some sacks, but when they were caught, a hail of bullets determined their fate. People lived in fear, not daring to stop working, not daring to keep for themselves the food that was destined for the common good. In those days, horrors happened in my village that I cannot truly picture today, not even when I hear my grandfather's usually clear voice begin to tremble. When I see in his eyes that he would rather forget, in order to experience a peaceful sleep once again… someday.
He told us about those horrors to warn us of how quickly life can plunge from safety into infinite terror. Winter had reigned. The grain was being hauled away. They still shot all those who tried to keep back pieces of it, be it a sack or some husks that had fallen from a cart. In time, hunger began to drive people in our village insane. Parents locked up their children so they wouldn't be taken by neighbors to feed their hunger. Friends turned their backs on each other and killed each other in fights for the last livestock that was still breathing. The streets reeked of decay and death, of misery and suffering. One day, my grandfather told us, he had hidden in the back room of his house while his parents dragged themselves, emaciated, to the fields to pick the last scraps of grain from the furrows with their dirty, half-frozen fingers. He had come across a book there, a book that had saved his life.
The word of God. An old Bible.
My grandfather had learned to read at an early age, one of the sad advantages of living in the Soviet Union.
It was in the room I now live in that Grandfather Fomenko had found the dusty book. Actually, he had been looking for something to eat, the days before he had found some sawdust. But despite his hunger and the grumbling in his stomach, eating the book was out of the question. Books were sacred, and no book as sacred as this one. He had begun to read and learned about the greatness of the Lord. Of the miracles his Son had performed. And of the magic of faith. His stomach had growled, but he had ignored it. The words gave him comfort.
The next day he immersed himself in the book again, disappearing into better worlds and times, hearing wisdom and encouragement. But around noon there was a knock at the door. My grandfather emphasized each time that he had not been afraid, that he had known that the Lord would protect him, when the old neighbor gained entrance to our house armed with a cleaver. It was clear what he wanted: Meat. My grandfather told us each time about how the neighbor had looked more undead than human, stinking and with sunken eyes, smelling like death from his mouth, the cleaver trembling in his hand.
"I'm sorry, boy," was all the man could get out.
My grandfather tried to mimic this poor man’s voice at the end of his wits, to express his pain through words so that we understood that poor fellow a little.
The Lord's words had given courage to my grandfather in his most terrible moments. He had stood up and firmly said:
"Away with you, the Lord protects the inhabitants of this house!"
But the intruder did not care, coming closer. And so, my grandfather again sought comfort and prayed. He prayed for mercy and peace and for his life. He would serve the Lord for the rest of his days. Trust Him blindly.
Suddenly, like a gruesome miracle, the famished intruder let out an inhuman groan and collapsed, lifeless and debilitated. There had been no hunger for my grandfather and his family for a week after that. My grandfather had been praying to the Lord since that day, thanking Him for His mercy. The story spread around the village and out of desperation or hope, in the next few days everyone secretly knelt in front of small wooden crosses they had made themselves and prayed to the Lord. A week later, like a miracle, the long-awaited delivery of grain arrived, along with spring. There had not been another bad time since then.
These events are the reason for the faith in our village... and our family. The psalm my grandfather had prayed as the hungry neighbor attacked had become the guiding psalm of our faith. All these years we had not been able to celebrate Christmas with the other families, but since the restrictions on faith communities had been relaxed, we had all finally decided to celebrate the holy festival in the village square. And so, we started the preparations.
There, in those evening hours, my part of the story begins. I and my younger sister Zarina, together with other youths and young adults, were fetching wood for the fire that was to burn in the center of our village. So, we went out into the night, dressed with thick pelts, to fetch logs from the edge of the fields that some men had prepared.
My breath could be seen as an icy breeze in the dawning darkness and I was already looking forward to dancing around the fire with everyone later, drinking good drinks and eating sumptuously. I was glad that we didn't have to walk across the fields themselves, but could stroll along their edge to get the logs.
You can feel death when it has hit a place. I was glad that I didn't have to work the fields myself, and had learned the carpentry trade. Therefore, I was spared from having to wander around there every day, among the echoes of past atrocities and sadness.
We were all in good spirits, strolling over the muddy ground, when all at once Zarina pointed up and into the clear night sky.
"Look, an angel is descending!" she exclaimed excitedly.
We all looked to where her outstretched hand pointed. A round light glowed in the night sky, glaring yellowish and shining strangely cold.
"It's singing! At Christmas! The Lord puts our feast under his sign!" Zarina cried.
We stopped and listened into the silence of the night. At first, I could hear nothing, at first, everything remained quiet, and only the distant beating of axes and the rustling of the wind in the treetops were audible.
But then, there in the wind, I could hear it, briefly but clearly. It was a kind of melodic whisper, joyful, yet also strange and otherworldly. It was heard only very briefly, and soon died away as the glow flew out of sight and disappeared somewhere far away.
"Let's go find the angel! Let's..." Zarina cried, continuing excitedly, but I interrupted her.
"We have to get the wood. We can report back to the village later, if it hasn't already been noticed there too," I said.
"You heard the singing! Surely that was an angel. Shall we leave it there? It may have gotten hurt, it must have hit something!" Sasha murmured.
Sasha was my oldest friend and one of the boys who worked on the fields. He had always been very caring and had always tried to help where he could. His parents were long dead and the old lady who had raised him was no longer around, either. So, he struggled along, working the fields, but the rest of us looked out for him.
"Shouldn't we go and look for it, Ilya?", Sasha continued to urge me anxiously.
We thought about it for a long time but decided to leave the decision to the others in the village. Trusting the Lord to guide our actions, we quickly moved on in the direction of the woodcutters to complete our task.
We were not the only ones who had seen the glow. When we returned to the village square loaded with logs, everyone was in great excitement and full of joy that the Lord had sent us this sign of His greatness. Not everyone agreed whether it was an angel or a return of the poinsettia that had been witnessed, but everyone was sure that the Lord had sent us encouragement. So, we celebrated our first Christmas full of joy and pleasure, with good food, dancing and singing, full of happiness and under the protection of the Almighty Lord. I will always think back to those days, always keep in my heart how I glimpsed a part of the Lord in the sky.
We all talked about the event and even the older people were fascinated and inspired. Even my grandfather and the others who had witnessed the worst death and misery in the world seemed to slowly find a spiritual peace they would never have dreamed of otherwise. They were happy and strengthened in their faith. However, we were not sure if it had really been an angel who had come down and so we hesitated to go and look for the creature of God.
But in the night, after the light had shone in the sky, I was awakened by Zarina crying in her sleep. I straightened up and slowly paced over to her bed, where in the semi-darkness she began to squirm, shaken by spasms.
"No, no, no..." she moaned painfully.
I began to shake her to wake her up. Zarina did not respond to me. Her face was like a distorted mask hiding something bad underneath. Her breathing became shallow, and she began to whimper. I was terrified and began to pray. The Lord had to save her, He just had to save her!
Zarina twitched more and more, started coughing and whimpering louder and louder. Slowly, the rest of the family woke up and my parents and grandfather huddled tightly around her, praying for her to open her eyes.
"Please, don't take our child! She has only been in your world for fourteen years..." my father cried, as panicked and desperate as I had ever seen before.
His thick, black mustache trembled with fear.
Then, abruptly, Zarina stopped convulsing.
For a terrible moment she just lay there, her hair disheveled, her face pale in the glow of the candle my mother held over her.
"Mom, Dad, Ilya, Grandpa... what's wrong?" she suddenly asked sleepily.
For a moment it was as if nothing had happened, as if I hadn't just seen my sister almost die, but then she began to cry.
"What's wrong, dear?" my father asked, just as pale in the face as Zarina.
It took a while before she found some calm and was able to talk to us.
Finally, she croaked:
"I saw the angel. I was with him."
A revelation? Had the Lord touched my sister?
We all said another prayer and finally, filled with awe, I asked:
"Where did you see the angel? Is it here? With us?"
She looked at me briefly, seemed to hesitate for a little moment, and then reported:
"I was with it… in a dream. It was in a white village, a village made of angel dust. I saw it. It didn't have wings and that's why at first I wasn't sure if it was an angel. However, soon it spoke to me."
"What did it say, Zarina?", I asked tensely.
"It said it was not God, but 'the Witness'. It sounded like a man and a woman and a child and a baby and... It felt peaceful. Calm and carefree. Then I woke up."
"An angel. Angels are the witnesses of God, that's how it must be!" my father said enthusiastically.
Suddenly, everyone seemed to be talking at once.
No one knew what Zarina's words meant, but we were sure that they contained something incomprehensible that we, as ordinary people, could not understand. But everyone was delighted. Everyone was caught in a beautiful dream.
The next day, the adults sat together in the large barn near the edge of the village, which was used for community events. Most of them found seats on the lined up wooden benches and the rest stood crowded against the old walls, some of which were already rotten. Dimitri, probably the closest thing to a mayor, sat at a heavy pine table at the end of the room, staring at the crowd, while my parents and Zarina sat on old chairs in front of him. Tensely, the crowd looked at them, waiting for someone to say something. Finally, Dimitri cleared his throat thoughtfully.
"You... all saw or heard about the falling star. It was brighter than the others that keep crossing our sky and much more... melodic. Some even heard the singing. Whoever still doubted that the Lord sent us his messenger... doubts are now useless. Zarina has received a vision. She has seen how the angel, who was sent by God, walked on our earth, and visited a village and consecrated it with its grace. She has seen the angel marching to spread holiness in these lands..."
"Are we sure?"
Mary, the dressmaker, had stood up. She was still young, my age and Sasha's, and she always wore her blond hair carefully braided, her dresses self-made, blood red and flashy, with silver embroidery. As always, she wore makeup - a luxury not many could afford. In other places she would have been considered a lady, but she was also a skeptical person, and I had not liked her very much since childhood, because she often made insinuations that seemed to go against the Lord. Also, she had never played with us outside and had always thought of herself as someone… better. I was shocked that she now so obviously doubted the Lord's actions.
"Mary. Zarina has seen a vision. The Lord spoke to her through her dreams! An angel has joined us. How can you deny it?" my father asked coldly.
"I'm not denying it, I'm just saying, what if there is something dark that the angel was sent to fight? What if it is going into battle against some unknown evil? The angel may be spreading sanctities, but we have no idea if it is trying to redeem us or defend us..."
"It said it was a witness of God," I noted.
"That's what Zarina said when she woke up."
"Then it is benevolent to us! We must find it!" someone shouted from one of the back rows.
An excited murmur began to spread through the room.
"Silence!" Dimitri thundered.
His face looked hard but determined.
"We have to get to it! If it is a message from heaven that the angel wants to bring us, we must hear it! How many can we spare? Who would even want to voluntarily leave the village? We don't know how long the journey will be, and you yourselves know how dangerous this area can be..."
A loud commotion broke out. Everyone shouted at once and volunteered. I also jumped up and loudly offered to go out to look for it.
The angel. The Witness of the Lord.
I imagined meeting it in a clearing, under a full moon. Hearing its bright voice, gaze in awe at its graceful form, and fall to my knees in prayer before it.
"SILENCE!" Dimitri shouted.
"You can't all go. The kids wouldn't make it in the deadly cold out there. Let seven go. Seven is the Lord's number, there must be seven! Seven workers from the fields! We can't spare any more!"
"You can't be serious!" I cried out.
Cold anger boiled up inside me.
"I want to go, too. We all want to. You can't just stand there and make a decision like that!"
Others joined in.
"SILENCE," Alexeij now thundered, the master blacksmith.
"We need you! Daniil, Ilya, Nikita, you have a job to do! We can't get by without you! You can't go, be reasonable!"
"But if the Lord wills it, he will make sure that everything here will work out. That nothing will happen!", I tried to argue, still boiling with anger.
"No. Winter is tugging at our huts, we need you," my father said slowly.
"So do the others. Without you, it's going to be tight. The fields lie under the snow, but everything else will be weakened by time and storms. We can only spare the field hands. Besides, they're the ones most likely to withstand the cold and the wilderness; after all, they're constantly out on the Fields of Death, toiling in the wind and rain. They'll all make the trip!"
I tried to change his mind, and several came to my aid, all those who were also forced to stay.
"You can manage without a dressmaker! I want to go too!" Mary cried defiantly, her cheeks red with anger, her nose wrinkled.
This young woman really believed she deserved the sight of the angel! She really believed her hypocrisies would deceive the Lord, despite her obvious doubts about His divinity!
Others also complained, young and old, many who didn't deserve to go and even those who did.
But it didn't help.
Dimitri was in charge. Everyone knew that. If we started to contradict him, our village would soon end up in chaos. And deep down I knew that I had to stay. That I had to take care of my sister, who would not survive a trip in the snow. That I had to repair the huts that the storms would eat away at.
Sasha was a field worker, he was allowed to go. Sasha and Sofia, Anatoly and old Igor, Ivan and Yulia and Mikhail. When the decision was made, a decision many of us accepted only with heavy hearts and which brought out deep envy in several faces, some of the chosen ones began to cry. They were happy, fulfilled... satisfied. They would see the messenger of the Lord, hear its melodious voice, sing its hymns.
Why wasn't I allowed to go? Why was the world so unfair? I had always believed in the Lord, prayed to Him, been subject to Him and lived according to His will. Why hadn't he chosen me to see his messenger? I had been so proud back when I had been allowed to learn the carpenter's trade and thus had not to go to the Fields of Death to toil there. At that time, I had felt like someone better when I saw Sasha and Sofia setting out early in the morning with all the other workers, with their old-fashioned plows and thick, shabby clothes.
Was this the punishment for my arrogance?
The Lord knew everything. He had seen what repulsive thoughts I had had, how superior I had felt to the others. Perhaps it was my punishment that I was not allowed to go. Perhaps the Lord was no longer favorable to me and I would have to prove myself to Him.
The next day, the seven set out north. They were seen off with singing and dancing; they were the center of the village’s attention. Envy threatened to drown me.
Why not me? Why wasn't I allowed to go? Why did I have to stay here?
And I knew: it was because of these thoughts. I wasn't pure enough. I had to get better, work on myself.
As the others disappeared from sight, as the small group seemed to be swallowed up by a patch of forest between distant trees, an icy chill ran down my spine.
What if they really did encounter evil? What if Mary had been right?
I prayed to the Lord that they would return home safely: Even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you.
He would bring them home safely, our pilgrims. I did not begrudge them their happiness. I was not a selfish person, was not complacent like Mary or some others in the village. I lived by the word of the Lord and I would not begrudge them.
They would all return home safely.
I continued to stare into the distance for a long time as my suppressed envy sought to consume me. But I was winning.
For darkness is as light to you.
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Even though the days and weeks passed, I never forgot to think of all those who had set out to witness the glory of the Lord. The cold winter had passed and frost and cold left the land, so that soon we could begin to prepare the fields for sowing. Since the sighting of the angel had caused us to let some of the farm workers leave, and they stayed away longer than we had expected, I had to join others in helping to plow the Fields of Death. The work was exhausting and made me physically very tired, since I still had to work in the carpenter's shop as well. We could not afford tractors, so we still had to resort to older tools. So, it happened that one day I was driving one of the hand plows through the dirty ground and was lost in my thoughts and full of sweat.
I was quite far away from the village, as the nearby surroundings had been worked shortly after the beginning of the thaw. The fields were extensive, partly reaching further than the eye could see. Only in one direction the dense forest extended, which introduced the beginning of a dark hilly landscape, that finally merged northward into high, alien mountains, whose white peaks rose high into the sky and, like once the tower of Babel, blasphemously tried to penetrate the heavens. But next to these distant giants there was only the plain, the vast plain that had to be tilled.
I hated the field work. And I hated the fields.
Every time I even thought about this piece of hell that had become reality long ago, my stomach turned. All the events that clung to this dark place, all the human lives and suffering that had sown the ground with death and blood here many years ago....
It was even worse when you stood in the fields yourself, truly being there on your own. It was as if I could smell it in the air, the rot of the starving and the hot blood that had watered the soil. It was as if I could still hear in the air the cries and wailing of the people who had met their end here, who had pleaded for their lives and the lives of their children and friends. It was as if I could see them in the early morning fog banks that lay on the Fields of Death, the shadows of people past, crawling and cowering, weak and starved. I had to pull myself together and look away, into the forest. A place does not forget, a place always remembers the days gone by and the cries that had been.
The plow pulled through the ground, ripping a furrow behind it. It was almost a bit comforting to imagine I was gutting this place of horror with my labor, inflicting deep wounds. Hypnotized, I stared down over and over again, watching the ground swirl to one side, smelling the fresh earth being pushed to the surface. But never could I escape my terrible feelings and the forebodings, never could I forget what kind of place I was at.
The few times I looked to the forest beside me, my thoughts wandered enviously to all those who had set out to find the angel. Had they reached it yet? Had they already learned from it what needed to be done for God's power on earth to be strengthened so that false prophets and promises could be swept away? How to drown the selfishness of the state? What needed to be done to serve the Lord?
Oh, how I would have loved to be there! How I would have loved to go with them, but I also understood the decision not to send everyone, and I understood my family's objections. I was needed here. I could serve the Lord here by tilling the fields and taking care of the soil and the sowing. I had to care for my sister.
I had already made several furrows when noon came. The sun was almost not visible, just a murky spot behind the clouds, and the fog had not lifted either. The world looked pale and apathetic. But amongst all the desolation I could suddenly hear something, something that seemed to come out of the forest.
It was at first just like a rustling in the wind that sounded a bit too regular, such that it triggered a natural uneasiness in me. I looked into the forest, but could hardly make out anything through the dense plants and the still lingering fog. That is why it was left to my own thoughts to imagine what was there, what was producing this strange noise.
I could not remember any animal that made similar sounds, was at a loss.
Suddenly, a bang echoed through the forest, accompanied by a panicked scream that broke inhumanly from the trees and spread across the fields.
Then, something new joined the sounds in the air.
The trees and bushes rustled, almost seemed to be torn apart.
Something was running through the forest, something seemed to be... coming right at me.
Was it perhaps a startled bear, an elk, or a wild boar?
Had one of the hunters from the village accidentally startled an animal, scared it in the wrong direction and now wanted to warn us with their cry? But then, why this panicked sound...?
I paused, took my hands off the rusty handles of the plow, and turned toward the forest. Still, I could only see fog, I could only hear rustling, but slowly I could also make out grunts and groans coming to me from the fog. It sounded heavy and panic-stricken.
Was I in danger? I began to pray to the Lord and ask him for assistance. I was not a fighter and so I had to hope that nothing would reach me from the depths between the trees that could easily tear me apart.
Even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you.
My baptismal motto gave me courage. The Lord saw me, even in my darkness, and would be with me.
For darkness is as light to you.
Then, someone burst out of the bushes and the fog and rushed toward me.
It was Sasha.
I almost didn't recognize him. His skin was pale, almost snow-white. His black hair stuck to his sweaty face. His pants and jacket were almost completely torn, so I could see his dirty shirt and his cut and bruised legs through the holes. There were also some small cuts on his face that worried me. Sasha's eyes twitched searchingly, panicked, and in his hand, he held the rifle that he had taken with him when he had once set out. Apparently, he had run through brush and thorns, had gotten scrapes and wounds from stones and branches.
When he saw me and looked at me with his big, panic-filled eyes, I became horridly afraid.
It was as if… behind his eyes there was no Sasha anymore, but only an animal. As if instinct had taken over his thoughts when an unnamable terror had entered his world. An animal inside him, which had enabled him to escape from... something.
Sasha staggered out of the forest, it was almost as if all strength left him now that he was back home. The rifle fell from his hand and dug into the mud beneath his feet. He limped slowly toward me, not taking his eyes off me. Then, suddenly, he wheeled around and looked back into the forest and the mist.
Only for a moment.
Again, he let out a shrill scream and sprinted the last few meters. When I looked into the forest myself, I saw nothing, only the fog.
But, didn't I feel a presence there, in the bushes? Between the trees?
I didn't see anything.
Sasha had reached me and collapsed. I quickly knelt down next to him and called for help. But the other field workers had already rushed over, obviously attracted by the rifle shot. I was in a trance, seeing only Sasha lying there, supporting his head. His eyes were still twitching around and despite my proximity he didn't seem to recognize me. He looked at me, confused.
"Sasha, what happened?", I asked, feeling his forehead.
Despite his paleness, he was uncomfortably hot.
A fever raged in his body. Who knew how long he had been running around there among the trees, his protective, warming jacket torn? With wounds that had not been tended and some of which were still bleeding?
Then another horrible thought occurred to me.
"Sasha, where are the others? Sasha, where are the others?"
This question apparently brought back some clarity that his gaze had not possessed before.
"They... they took them. Took all of them... All of them. All our brothers, all our sisters... all of them," he gurgled.
*********
So, this is the first part of what I found. I will hurry to translate the rest! But I will definitely stay out of the woods for now... They are still as creepy as described by Ilya in this document and fog ist still around every morning... Also, I don't know what to make of Ilya himself as well, is he just a religious nut and that is the explanation? I just don't know...
2023.06.05 14:51 Pacer667 I’ve only taught special education
I want out of this field! I want completely out of education. My only work experience the last 10 plus years has been teaching. Way back in 2001 I had my first job working for a disability advocacy group. I’ve worked short term periods at Walmart as a greater and cashier. Hated it. Did call center work. Really hated it and can’t do it with bladder issues. I want a calm boring office type job. I put in for adaptive recreation but haven’t heard back yet. I’m 40. I don’t want to be teaching at 50. Trying to make my resume less teacher.
submitted by Pacer667 to TeachersInTransition [link] [comments]
2023.06.05 14:47 Ricosss Parenteral medication considerations for the ketogenic diet. (Pub Date: 2023-05-31)
https://doi.org/10.1093/ajhp/zxad121
https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/37257050
Open Access: True
Additional links: * https://academic.oup.com/ajhp/advance-article-pdf/doi/10.1093/ajhp/zxad121/50497174/zxad121.pdf
------------------------------------------ Open Access ------------------------------------------
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Upload PDF
submitted by Ricosss to TheKetoScienceJournal [link] [comments]
https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/37257050
Abstract
DISCLAIMER
In an effort to expedite the publication of articles, AJHP is posting manuscripts online as soon as possible after acceptance. Accepted manuscripts have been peer-reviewed and copyedited, but are posted online before technical formatting and author proofing. These manuscripts are not the final version of record and will be replaced with the final article (formatted per AJHP style and proofed by the authors) at a later time.PURPOSE
This initiative conducted a needs assessment regarding the extent of potential risk for accidental carbohydrate exposure in patients on the ketogenic diet in acute care settings at 2 academic medical centers.SUMMARY
Medications used in the emergency department, intensive care unit, or operating room can contain carbohydrates or be diluted in carbohydrate-containing fluids. Use of these medications can shift patients on the ketogenic diet out of ketosis, causing breakthrough seizures. Despite standard clinical practices, there are no consensus guidelines to date for the logistical management of these patients during hospital admissions. This lack of standardized management increases the risk for parenteral medication errors during transitions within the healthcare system. A review of the literature demonstrates increased medication safety errors compounded by this lack of systemwide endeavors. Initiatives enhancing provider education and quality improvement safety measures have been reported, however, the extent of the potential risk with regard to medication formulation has not been assessed. Fifty medications were evaluated for their potential risk for carbohydrate exposure in a real-world quality improvement needs assessment conducted at 2 academic medical centers.CONCLUSION
Because of increased exposure to carbohydrate-containing medications and medication safety errors, the authors recommend developing institutional protocols, an order set in the electronic medical record, and a multidisciplinary approach for patients on the ketogenic diet. Further research is warranted to assess the impact of these quality improvement measures on safety and clinical outcomes and to justify the development and implementation of consensus guidelines in centers of excellence that serve these patients.Authors:
- Abu-Sawwa R
- Busque K
- Cokley J
Open Access: True
Additional links: * https://academic.oup.com/ajhp/advance-article-pdf/doi/10.1093/ajhp/zxad121/50497174/zxad121.pdf
------------------------------------------ Open Access ------------------------------------------
If the paper is behind paywall, please consider uploading it to our google drive anonymously.
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2023.06.05 14:39 dumpsterfirestonk Brotherhood.
What I'm about to say is going to get a bit dark but it feeds into why this game is important to a lot of people in this community from a mental point of view.. If you don't want to read below, the basic point is this:
Comradery creates a sense of Brotherhood regardless of where your from or what your differences are and frankly, we just don't find something like this anymore in many games.These kinds of games create more than just friendships, but lasting memories that bring joy for men and women alike. I can personally speak on a Brotherhood and friendship I have formed with great guys I play with and for the first time in 15 years, I actually found a game I enjoy playing again. Whether it's with friends or strangers, the idea of a "Brotherhood" and bonding with each other made not just between your squad, but you and other squads is a really powerful sensation I feel like we're all missing. Being part of a cohesive, elite unit of 50 guys (and ladies at times) all working together as a team to win is incredible. I would love to go as far as saying that some humanities best side comes out in this kind of environment which I believe says a lot. If you decide to read all this, I really think you'll find the perspective I lay out interesting. But I'm going to warn you, it gets a little dark. I always find the music to helpful in reading this kind of stuff.
submitted by dumpsterfirestonk to HellLetLoose [link] [comments]
Comradery creates a sense of Brotherhood regardless of where your from or what your differences are and frankly, we just don't find something like this anymore in many games.These kinds of games create more than just friendships, but lasting memories that bring joy for men and women alike. I can personally speak on a Brotherhood and friendship I have formed with great guys I play with and for the first time in 15 years, I actually found a game I enjoy playing again. Whether it's with friends or strangers, the idea of a "Brotherhood" and bonding with each other made not just between your squad, but you and other squads is a really powerful sensation I feel like we're all missing. Being part of a cohesive, elite unit of 50 guys (and ladies at times) all working together as a team to win is incredible. I would love to go as far as saying that some humanities best side comes out in this kind of environment which I believe says a lot. If you decide to read all this, I really think you'll find the perspective I lay out interesting. But I'm going to warn you, it gets a little dark. I always find the music to helpful in reading this kind of stuff.
Context:
In the 31 years of life I've had on this planet, I've seen what war does to people, I've seen (and experienced) some of the worst mental and physical pain imaginable and subsequently fell into depression, addiction as a result of some of the darkest, most cruelest aspects of life I never thought the world could offer 10 years ago. From the screams a Mother makes when her child passes, harrows of opioid addiction all alone in the world trying to survive, hearing your own mother cry in agony from disease and pain, engaged and then cheated on or the relentless rage of an abusive father growing up. Then came homelessness in Chicago in the middle of winter for several years. Despite having a loving Mother and my younger Brother, life--like many of you in the USA and around the world--all have seen in some way how truly painful life becomes becoming an adult and trying to find purpose and meaning. However, one of life's cruelest acts is how painful pure loneliness is when you're broken.
Point is this:
Life has been cruel to all of us in this world and it will carry on. You get use to it but it will always happens in a new way and each time it will sting like it was the first but like before. Just gets easier recovering each time. As we make this tumultuous journey in life and understanding our purpose and meaning in life, we take a moment to play this game where--albeit a videogame--the reality of how we interact together changes compared to reality around us. For instances, that squad lead trying to guide you and your squad to a victory was probably dealing with a horrible breakup you had no idea about. To him, you guys were probably the closest friends he had to him or someone to talk too. You know the brave Commander who stepped up even though no one else would? His Mother may have died a few months back leaving him alone in the world with nothing, debt and a ton of pain as the world swallows him. Probably dealing with emotional pain but sees everyone around him as a friend that he knows will care when he helps and leads you and everyone else to win. You know that medic that could of been any other class instead? He didn't have to play a role to support you or the squad yet he did. He was thinking about himself and found you worth the run across the field of gun fire to pick up. He didn't have to do that yet, in the little free time we get in this cold, lonely world we live in, you were all that mattered to him. Each of you--whether you see it or not--are creating the Brotherhood we as humans are programed to have in our lives.
Final Thoughts
This is the only game I have ever played that has had a community of people in game who actually care about each other regardless where they are from. I know this sounds stupid, but when you're an adult in this cruel world and you feel worthless, lonely and depressed and you have no family or they died and you work your ass off barely make rent only to realize you'll likely never retire, have a family or a loved one, it feels really good hearing a medic come running to save you. I don't know, maybe I'm just overthinking about it, but many games today are very individualistic. This game depends completely on teamwork and the idea of a cohesive team that contains people doing something they enjoy is special. This is where that Brotherhood forms.2023.06.05 14:37 scdl28 Winter Hill Students Relocated for rest of the year - building closed
Per the district:
As of Sunday, June 4th, SPS and the City of Somerville have located sites that will temporarily host classrooms through the end of the school year. All Winter Hill classrooms will be relocated and classes will resume on Thursday, June 8th, as follows:
submitted by scdl28 to Somerville [link] [comments]
As of Sunday, June 4th, SPS and the City of Somerville have located sites that will temporarily host classrooms through the end of the school year. All Winter Hill classrooms will be relocated and classes will resume on Thursday, June 8th, as follows:
- AIM Classrooms will move to the Edgerly Building, 8 Bonair Street, 1st Floor. Please see below for additional information.
- Prekindergarten and Kindergarten will move to the Capuano Early Childhood Center, 150 Glen St. Please see below for additional information.
- Grades 1-8 will move to Tufts University’s Olin Hall, 180 Packard Avenue, Medford (on the Somerville line). While this site is in Medford, DESE has granted SPS a waiver to host classes in this building for the remainder of this school year. Please see below for additional information.
- Monday 6/5: Staff will pack materials from Winter Hill that are needed for the school year. The City’s Inspectional Services Department has deemed the building safe for entry and use for staff, but the building cannot accommodate the full student population while the impacted stairwell is closed. Educators will also pack any student belongings that may be remaining in classrooms.
- Tuesday, 6/6: Classroom materials will be moved to the new temporary locations. Educators will use this time for planning and set up of their new temporary classroom spaces.
- Wednesday, 6/7: Educators will use this time to prepare and finalize their new temporary classroom spaces.
- Thursday, 6/8: Classes resume in new temporary locations.
2023.06.05 14:28 ThrowawayBobaGirl I’m finding it really hard to be positive just now
TW: self-hatred, body issues, internalised transphobia
I (26 MTF) came out in August, started medical February, got my dosage up a few weeks ago so now on 4mg E 25mg cypro. I’ve generally been inconsistent with my mood, but recently (past couple weeks) I’ve kinda hit the bottom.
I feel completely repulsed by myself, by my body. I can barely put into words how much loathing I feel towards myself. I feel so ugly, so unnatural. Not a woman, not quite a man, just some kind of freak of nature.
The hormones have led to a sore chest, but I’m not seeing a lot of growth. I haven’t been able to figure out electrolysis yet but my skin is raw from shaving. I have genetic hair loss and while I’ve managed to scrape it back with Regaine and that god damned derma roller, but it’s so slow and I really don’t know if it’s going to properly come back. I’m a good while off bottom surgery, and having been circumcised/needing hair removal makes it even more bloody complicated. I’m paying a fair amount for voice training and my coach is saying I’ve done well but I can’t hear it as anything but like I’m putting on some awful accent. I work in a call centre and being called he/him/sigentleman all day has really worn me down.
I’m sorry, I don’t know what the point in me posting this is, maybe I just needed to get it off my chest. Maybe someone else has been in a similar spot and gotten through it.
I just want to feel like I’m making progress. I want to feel like I am, or at the least I could be, a woman. Now, I just feel worthless. Sorry for whining.
submitted by ThrowawayBobaGirl to trans [link] [comments]
I (26 MTF) came out in August, started medical February, got my dosage up a few weeks ago so now on 4mg E 25mg cypro. I’ve generally been inconsistent with my mood, but recently (past couple weeks) I’ve kinda hit the bottom.
I feel completely repulsed by myself, by my body. I can barely put into words how much loathing I feel towards myself. I feel so ugly, so unnatural. Not a woman, not quite a man, just some kind of freak of nature.
The hormones have led to a sore chest, but I’m not seeing a lot of growth. I haven’t been able to figure out electrolysis yet but my skin is raw from shaving. I have genetic hair loss and while I’ve managed to scrape it back with Regaine and that god damned derma roller, but it’s so slow and I really don’t know if it’s going to properly come back. I’m a good while off bottom surgery, and having been circumcised/needing hair removal makes it even more bloody complicated. I’m paying a fair amount for voice training and my coach is saying I’ve done well but I can’t hear it as anything but like I’m putting on some awful accent. I work in a call centre and being called he/him/sigentleman all day has really worn me down.
I’m sorry, I don’t know what the point in me posting this is, maybe I just needed to get it off my chest. Maybe someone else has been in a similar spot and gotten through it.
I just want to feel like I’m making progress. I want to feel like I am, or at the least I could be, a woman. Now, I just feel worthless. Sorry for whining.
2023.06.05 14:23 Pikachyuuuuu A revision of the first two WN prologue chapters. What do you think?
Hello everyone!
Recently I've been reading the WN of TsukiMichi, and while I do think the translations are passable, I don't think they could be considered all that good, especially from the perspective of a native English speaker.
I will iterate though, that I respect Reigokai for everything he has done, and I am quite grateful to even be able to experience the web novel in any form or fashion.
Carrying onto the main point of this post, whilst I do enjoy the web novel, I was curious what it may look like if the translations were a bit more natural and free flowing.
I am no writer, but I decided to try my hand at reviewing and revising a couple chapters at the beginning of the WN just to see how much of a difference it might make.
I should mention that the revisions were simply made to the material provided by Reigokai, I built upon whatever he had translated, and did not refer to the original work. I can't read enough Japanese to be able to directly translate after all. I simply tried to infer the meaning from what was already presented in the web novel, and make it a little more clear.
I would love to get others opinions on my revisions and what you think in comparison to the original.Any form of constructive criticism would be welcome!
For example, did I take too much creative liberty in redescribing some situations, did I fluff it up too much, are there any changes you think were unnecessary or detract away from the experience?
On top of that do you think I should continue? It's honestly quite time consuming to do this, so I don't know if I will, but it was enjoyable for what it's worth so I may if I feel like it!
While reading you may find a couple of grammatical errors and such, I hope you won't mind!
TL;DR: I revised two chapters of the TsukiMichi WN and would appreciate constructive feedback.
Prologue: This is the beginning of the autumn sky
I woke up, made breakfast, and in the meantime prepared my lunchbox.
I left for school, then went to club for morning practice.
Finishing up my club’s morning practice, I headed to class.
Once that was finished, I once again went back to club in the afternoon.
After hanging out with my friends in club, I went back home.
I took a bath, and then I changed.
I enjoyed some time with my family, and then I rested.
In the late nights of autumn, I read books, played games, and surfed the web.
Finally, I slept.
That’s all I did.
There might have been something in between the lines, but that’s not particularly important.
“That’s why it’s strange... Why I am not asleep in the comforts of my own home!?”
That’s right... without a doubt... I’m somewhere else.
I don’t exactly know where, but here I am.
In a square room that looks as if stars were printed on the walls and floor.
In order to better assess my situation, I went around inspecting the room.
I was concerned by the fact that there was no obvious exit present.
On top of that, ever since I got here, I haven’t felt the presence of anything or anyone else.
Currently, I am entrusting my back to a corner of the room, while I ponder my situation.
“You are extremely calm considering your circumstances, huh.”
“?!”
A voice...
There’s definitely nothing present in this room, yet I’m certain I heard a loud voice.
Looking around, I saw that nothing in the room had visibly changed.
The voice continued.
“Once I projected my voice, you immediately began searching your surroundings attempting to comprehend the current state of affairs. Simultaneously, you remained vigilant as you endeavored to organize your thoughts, huh?”
“Who are you?”
If all I could hear was a voice, it seemed my best option was to attempt to communicate with it.
“If I said I was a god, would you believe me?”
“Absolutely not.”
Does this voice have a screw loose?
“That is quite unfortunate.”
“Well, I will now transport you to a REALLY good parallel world. I should mention, it is a one way trip so you will not be able to return to your original world.”
“Wait! Wait! Wait! Wait!”
What kind of nonsense is this thing spewing so nonchalantly?!
“In regards to what you will be tasked to do, you should ask the one who is in charge of that place when you arrive.
“With that now explained, I am sorry but I need you to sign off on this.”
“Like hell I’m going to do that!”
As I anticipated, my voice became violent. I mean, It’s a given! it’s obvious! Who would just accept this situation like that?!
“Oh? You don’t want to? That’s weird... I was told you would be going.”
The voice seemed troubled.
There’s a limit to jokes! I have in absolutely no way, heard about this beforehand!
“I’m not lying! I haven’t been told a thing about this! Okay? Moreover, what kind of idiot would just willingly accept the concept of another world?! The fact that we’re even talking about this is just plain weird!”
I attempted to explain my side of the story with all my available might.
“Huh, it seems as if it truly was not you. I apologize, I seem to have made a mistake.”
I breath a sigh of relief.
“I appreciate your apology, but are you going to bring me back home?!”
I still have yet to return to my original tone of voice.
My current tone may not be threatening, but it’s definitely not polite either.
I mean, who’s going to blame me? This is a completely ridiculous situation. It’s definitely not my fault.
“Of course I will.”
That’s what the voice said.
With that, I breathe another sigh of relief.
I’m so glad. It’s a ‘voice’ that can be reasoned with.
Usually, in a standard template scenario like this, this is the part where the voice would say ‘I’m sorry’, ‘it’s impossible’, or ‘oh well, try your best’ and would simply toss you out to fend for yourself.
Maybe you’d even be given the guy who tells you ‘You’re already dead’ and, without hearing any complaints, throws you out to fend for yourself in another world.
That’s what I thought would happen but...
I’m saved ~
“Well, I am extremely sorry… if that is truly the case, then as an alternative it must be either your younger or older sister.”
I retract everything I just said. This guy just said something that can’t be passed off as a joke.
It said it in a nonchalant way, but those were words I absolutely cannot let slip by.
“Hey... could you repeat yourself one more time?”
“Hm? If you are not the one to be chosen, that means one of your sisters must be. ”
“Don’t give me that shit!”
“If you touch my sisters, I’ll make sure you live to regret it!”
They’re out there, living their own lives to the fullest!
There’s no way they’d be able to just accept this situation!
The audacity! Without even an ounce of care in its voice, this thing says it’ll just whisk one of the two away!
Don’t mess with me!
“For the sake of confirming, you are indeed the Misumi family’s eldest son, Misumi Makoto-kun, correct?”
Why does it know my name?
“The kids of the Misumi household should have already been told of this matter. At least, that is what I was told. Is this not correct?”
The voice seemed even more troubled now then it did before.
I was a bit surprised by this. Although it kidnapped me out of nowhere, it still tried its best to respect my will.
Everything being considered…
“Well, for the time being, could you at least tell me your name?”
That’s right. I’m still somehow managing not to fall into a complete panic, but it’s not as if I’m extremely calm either.
The best way to put it would be, I’m composed. I have to settle down a bit.
Even now, I still don’t even know the identity of the voice.
“?? Oh yeah of course, you are quite right. I apologize for not having introduced myself sooner. I am called Tsukuyomi.”
“I see, Tsukuyomi. Tsukuyomi… Tsukuyomi?!”
“Oh? Do you know of me? I see you are quite knowledgeable.”
“You don’t mean, Tsukuyomi of the three Shinto gods, do you? That Tsukuyomi no Mikoto?!”
“Oooh, yes, that would indeed be correct. Although, compared to the other two, I am nothing but a minor character.”
I mean, that’s true. Even considering that though, he’s still a big shot.
I like myths and history (though only a bit), henceforth why I know of him.
If what the voice is saying is true, then he is quite the character.
“Why is it that the Tsukuyomi-sama knows of me?”
Let’s begin with the thing I understand the least. I don’t understand why I was chosen to travel to another world.
“…”
“I see, you really don’t know anything. Alright, I will tell you.”
Everything I was told from that point on, I honestly couldn’t get a grasp on it.
I was in a pretty fortunate position compared to those who are suddenly called to another world, get lost, or get reincarnated—or at least that’s what I had thought.
Prologue 2: The farewell gift is a secret
To summarize what Tsukuyomi-sama said to me, it goes something like this.
The reason for the transportation and procedure had all been explained to me.
Basically, my parents themselves were originally residents of this aforementioned other world.
When I was young, I was told that my grandparents had already died and that we didn’t have connections with any of our other relatives but… to think that this was the reason why.
In order to come to our current world, for one reason or another, they made an agreement with the god of that other world.
That’s what seems to have triggered my current situation.
That’s to say, the condition the god gave them was ‘one day, I will take that which is most important from you’.
Is that guy the devil?!
It seems my parents agreed to that condition.
Now that I think about it all three children of my family (myself include) were taught how to do domestic chores, as well as made to learn some sort of martial art.
To think that that was preparation for this of all things! All for the purpose of possibly being shipped off to another world at any time!
No no no, don’t joke around. My parents never told me anything about another world!
Well, to be fair, even if they had told me, I’d probably look at them as if they were a bunch of crazy people.
My father is a writer that specializes in making fantasy novels that are oddly realistic and hold a lot of presence.
Though, to think that that was because he had actually experienced the real thing is a little mind boggling.
In one of his works, he intricately detailed the flavors of a dragon steak, and the comforts of sleeping in a stable, both of which were especially moving moments.
The world that I’m going to now is that same magic filled fantasy world.
It seems that I’m going to be sent to that world with power that surpasses that of my peers. Due to various reasons, the people that are transferred over from my world are all incredibly strong.
In a sense, it’ll be as if I’ve been released from extremely heavy clothing.
It’s not like I’ll be given immortality though, so I can still suffer fatal wounds. At least, I’ve been warned of such.
Judging by what Tsukuyomi-sama has said, it seems that even just living in my world is a feat in and of itself.
Not only is there practically no magical power, the Gods’ divine protection can barely reach anyone there. It’s a harsh world in comparison to others. That’s the kind of place I’ve been living in up until now, at least, according to Tsukuyomi-sama.
Even though all I’ve done is live my life normally...
How convenient for me.
“I’m extremely sorry for shouting at you. It seems you’ve also had it rough Tsukuyomi-sama.” (Makoto)
Moreover, thinking about the hardships Tsukuyomi-sama must have faced due to being the middle child nestled between the two extraordinary beings that are his elder sister and younger brother...
I felt a flood of emotions when considering his situation. Even now, when he simply tried to do his job, he was shouted at by a person he barely knows.
He’s definitely had it rough so far.
“Well, well, to think your understanding of my own circumstance would be so intricate! How long has it been since I have felt such a blissful feeling? Though, if we are to talk about having it rough, Makoto-dono has it plenty rough himself.” (Tsukuyomi)
To think he even understands my feelings of being the only man wedged in between two sisters! I never thought the day would come, when somebody could sympathize with me so!
Now that I’ve been enlightened to his greatness, if there was ever a Tsukuyomi Mikoto religion, I’d enter it in a heart beat!
Hooray Tsukuyomi-sama!
“Nonetheless, my sisters and I have lived a normal life up until now. We’re way too late in the game to suddenly be told we’ve essentially been living in a wasteland all our lives.” (Makoto)
“Out of all the other worlds out there, yours is certainly the harshest. In the eyes of an otherworlder, it would be like live in the depths of the ocean or living in a sea of lava.” (Tsukuyomi)
“On a separate note, she really is taking her time.” (Tsukuyomi)
We’ve been waiting for the goddess of the other world to come and retrieve me but…
Considering how long she’s taking, it doesn’t seem like that goddess will be coming anytime soon.
It seems that world is a pretty popular place, inhabited by a Goddess and spirits alike.
In what way does that make it popular? I honestly have no clue.
By the way, I’ve already signed whatever it is Tsukuyomi-sama gave me. Of course, only after thoroughly reviewing the conditions and being convinced about it, okay?
After all, if I don’t go, either my older or younger sister would have to go in my place.
I’m extremely troubled by this, you know? Very troubled.
I mean, for one, I won’t be able to play games anymore. In a world where machines don’t exist, I won’t even be able to play something as simple as a mobile game!
I also have to bid farewell to all my manga and novels.
Furthermore, on my computer, there may or may not be a number of things that are 18+. If those get discovered, I have no clue how I would even begin to explain that to my family.
I’m a growing young man! It’s perfectly understandable! Right?!
That’s why I told Tsuki-sama about it, and requested the he clean it up in a covert manner so that my family wouldn’t notice.
This might not come off very well, but aside from my family, I honestly could care less if anyone else knows about it.
Now that I have been cornered, I understand just how tiny I truly am. Though, that’s how I really feel.
However, that isn’t any good.
That’s why I decided to stop being so self-centered. How do I say it? I’m honestly surprised at how much I prioritize myself!
Although, I still wanted to do something about my dark history.
While he did say I can’t return…
If my family who I won’t be able to see again, if they find the materials linked to my inner man…
“I can’t believe our kid had these kinds of hobbies!”(Makoto’s father)
“Even if he’s our child, how unrefined of him!”(Makoto’s mother)
“Onii-chan*, you’re disgusting!” (Makoto’s younger sister) [*Big brother]
“I can’t believe my little brother! Could it be?! Did he look at me with such a lascivious gaze as well?!”(Makoto’s older sister)
“NOOOOOOO!!! STOOOOOOOOOOOP!!!!!” (Makoto)
There’s absolutely no way I could take that! Even just imagining it is enough to make me want to kill myself!
“Do not worry young Mikoto.” (Tsukuyomi)
Tsuki-sama was different. While I was writhing due to the madness found within my heart, and was about to be engulfed by the accumulating negative feelings, he said this to me.
“Everything you have that contains contents of men’s dreams, books, and software, as well as the contents your hard drive; I will make sure to take responsibility of wiping them all from the face of the planet!” (Tsukuyomi)
Tsuki-sama said while nodding reassuringly.
He understood everything... absolutely everything about it...
He truly is a God! He truly is divine! Even if in the eyes of others, he is simply a minor character, he is definitely number one in my heart! You have become the greatest of Gods! The Chief God!
I am impressed by the fact that he knew of advanced technological devices such hard drives.
Honestly though, I’m not thinking too much about stuff like that. I’m just grateful that my potential nightmare has disappeared.
Tsuki-sama and I decided to kill time while waiting for the goddess. We talked about this and that. We talked about things such as society while drinking tea that was pulled out of who knows where.
“By the way, to my understanding in the new world I will have immense physical and magical power but…” (Makoto)
“Yes?” (Tsukuyomi)
“Will I receive something like a special ability? For example, an impenetrable barrier, the demon eye of truth, a Rose Logia, or a heavenly phase?” (Makoto)
I mean, if I have an incredible amount of magic power, there might not be any need. Even so, it’s the dream of any young man to have powers like that.
Normally, there are a lot of people that are given overpowered abilities when they arrive in another world, you know? That’s why I want it too, you know?
I mean, I guess that’s only in fiction though...
From what I’ve heard, there are demi-humans, and even beastkin so even if I’m a little abnormal I shouldn’t be discriminated against.
All that considered, it would be nice if I had one, at least that’s what I thought.
“Of course you will!” (Tsukuyomi)
“Seriously?! What kind? What kind will I get?” (Makoto)
I honestly didn’t think my request could be fulfilled~. You’ll only know if you ask, huh.
“I do not know. I am sorry, but it will be a surprise for when you arrive there. I myself can only go there once, and after that I will be incapable of communicating with you, so I am only going to give you a hint, okay?” (Tsukuyomi)
“Ooh~ I hope it’s something like a blank skill that lets you make any power you want!” (Makoto)
“Nope, that is not the case. I am sorry, but although I am divine, even I have limits imposed upon myself.” (Tsukuyomi)
“??” (Makoto)
“It is said that I am the one who governs the night and the moon, but my real attribute is quite ambiguous. In fact, it may be similar to what you speak of, a ‘blank skill’ of sorts.” (Tsukuyomi)
“That is why I will give you as much of my power as I can. Although, I do not know how it will bud, and what kind of fruit it shall bare. It may even become something you do not desire. For that, I am sorry.” (Tsukuyomi)
Having said that, Tsuki-sama beckons me to come closer.
Following his instructions, I sat beside him. He then placed his hand on me.
I felt something beginning to flow into me. That something went through my spine and then began to circulate throughout my whole body. It then went around to my chest, and began to gather there. Finally it calmed itself.
Is this the blessing he said he would give me?
“I feel something accumulating withing me. Is this what you would call the point of origin?” (Makoto)
“That’s right, you learn fast.”(Tsukuyomi)
“There should be no problems with the perception of your surroundings. When you imagine yourself letting the power out, it should active.” (Tsukuyomi)
“The feeling of releasing the power in the palm of your hands is probably the easiest to understand.” (Tsukuyomi)
“I should mention, it is currently impossible. This place is still technically located in your original world after all.” (Tsukuyomi)
I wanted to give it a try, but Tsuki-sama stopped me while laughing.
“This may be slightly tangential, Makoto-dono, but I should mention even if it is stated in your contract, the goddess of the other world should similarly give you an ability of some sort.
You will be abandoning your current world, of not particularly your own volition, so giving you side-benefits is of course a given.” (Tsukuyomi)
Once again, Tsuki-sama bows his head with an apologetic expression.
“No way, Tsukuyomi-sama! I am nothing but grateful to you. Maybe, just maybe, if I had been sent away without any explanation after rejecting you, and then, the next day, one of my sisters were to disappear, I would’ve regretted it for the rest of my life.” (Makoto)
“Makoto-dono is truly kind… it seems she has finally come.” (Tsukuyomi)
“Finally, huh. We’ve been talking for quite a while. No, more like her tardiness allowed us to do so.” (Makoto)
“You know, if you wanted, I could record all our conversations in a dream pillow. Is this really enough for you?” (Tsukuyomi)
In Tsuki-sama’s hand, there were two letters.
When I asked Tsuki-sama if I could leave anything behind for my family, he gave me a lot of different ways to give them a message in a heartbroken manner. In the end, I decided to go with letters. One was addressed to my parents, and the other to my sisters.
My parents, having come from there, would understand if I told them about the other world, but using that kind of explanation for my sisters would be hard. Therefore, I made two of them. I’ll let my parents decide whether or not to tell my sisters the truth of the matter.
Conversely, I asked if it was possible for me to take anything with me. In response, I was told that he could make some accommodations for it.
I chose various books and writing utensils (ball-pens and mechanical pencils were a no go, so I had to make due with a pencil). I wanted to bring a bit of food too, but for some reason I was denied that privilege as well. There’s are probably numerous laws for the management of worlds. I assume in this case, the preservation of what’s already there, huh.
“Yes, I don’t mind- huh?!” (Makoto)
My body is going transparent? I double checked just to be sure, but half my body has gone transparent?!
“What?! She plans to take you away without even giving me any notice?! What is she thinking, that stupid woman!” (Tsukuyomi)
Tsuki-sama was also panicking. It wasn’t like I was going to die though. I was just being taken away after all, so I felt a bit relieved.
“Makoto-dono, I am sorry! The Goddess that you are about to meet, is quite problematic and troublesome character. It is a given if you are unable to hide your displeasure. But, if you can find it somewhere in your heart, please, overlook her actions.” (Tsukuyomi)
Tsuki-sama is a wise person. He’s probably come into contact with a good number of people in his lifetime.
I smiled while nodding.
I was able to harden my resolve to travel to another world thanks to him, and he managed to make me accept the situation I was given. He chatted with me and helped calm myself.
Those were the words he gave me as I departed, the words from that Tsukuyomi Mikoto.
Even if the Goddess I’m about to meet in this parallel world has a troublesome personality, I will do my best to accept her for Tsukuyomi-sama’s sake.
submitted by Pikachyuuuuu to TsukiMichi [link] [comments]
Recently I've been reading the WN of TsukiMichi, and while I do think the translations are passable, I don't think they could be considered all that good, especially from the perspective of a native English speaker.
I will iterate though, that I respect Reigokai for everything he has done, and I am quite grateful to even be able to experience the web novel in any form or fashion.
Carrying onto the main point of this post, whilst I do enjoy the web novel, I was curious what it may look like if the translations were a bit more natural and free flowing.
I am no writer, but I decided to try my hand at reviewing and revising a couple chapters at the beginning of the WN just to see how much of a difference it might make.
I should mention that the revisions were simply made to the material provided by Reigokai, I built upon whatever he had translated, and did not refer to the original work. I can't read enough Japanese to be able to directly translate after all. I simply tried to infer the meaning from what was already presented in the web novel, and make it a little more clear.
I would love to get others opinions on my revisions and what you think in comparison to the original.Any form of constructive criticism would be welcome!
For example, did I take too much creative liberty in redescribing some situations, did I fluff it up too much, are there any changes you think were unnecessary or detract away from the experience?
On top of that do you think I should continue? It's honestly quite time consuming to do this, so I don't know if I will, but it was enjoyable for what it's worth so I may if I feel like it!
While reading you may find a couple of grammatical errors and such, I hope you won't mind!
TL;DR: I revised two chapters of the TsukiMichi WN and would appreciate constructive feedback.
Prologue: This is the beginning of the autumn sky
I woke up, made breakfast, and in the meantime prepared my lunchbox.
I left for school, then went to club for morning practice.
Finishing up my club’s morning practice, I headed to class.
Once that was finished, I once again went back to club in the afternoon.
After hanging out with my friends in club, I went back home.
I took a bath, and then I changed.
I enjoyed some time with my family, and then I rested.
In the late nights of autumn, I read books, played games, and surfed the web.
Finally, I slept.
That’s all I did.
There might have been something in between the lines, but that’s not particularly important.
“That’s why it’s strange... Why I am not asleep in the comforts of my own home!?”
That’s right... without a doubt... I’m somewhere else.
I don’t exactly know where, but here I am.
In a square room that looks as if stars were printed on the walls and floor.
In order to better assess my situation, I went around inspecting the room.
I was concerned by the fact that there was no obvious exit present.
On top of that, ever since I got here, I haven’t felt the presence of anything or anyone else.
Currently, I am entrusting my back to a corner of the room, while I ponder my situation.
“You are extremely calm considering your circumstances, huh.”
“?!”
A voice...
There’s definitely nothing present in this room, yet I’m certain I heard a loud voice.
Looking around, I saw that nothing in the room had visibly changed.
The voice continued.
“Once I projected my voice, you immediately began searching your surroundings attempting to comprehend the current state of affairs. Simultaneously, you remained vigilant as you endeavored to organize your thoughts, huh?”
“Who are you?”
If all I could hear was a voice, it seemed my best option was to attempt to communicate with it.
“If I said I was a god, would you believe me?”
“Absolutely not.”
Does this voice have a screw loose?
“That is quite unfortunate.”
“Well, I will now transport you to a REALLY good parallel world. I should mention, it is a one way trip so you will not be able to return to your original world.”
“Wait! Wait! Wait! Wait!”
What kind of nonsense is this thing spewing so nonchalantly?!
“In regards to what you will be tasked to do, you should ask the one who is in charge of that place when you arrive.
“With that now explained, I am sorry but I need you to sign off on this.”
“Like hell I’m going to do that!”
As I anticipated, my voice became violent. I mean, It’s a given! it’s obvious! Who would just accept this situation like that?!
“Oh? You don’t want to? That’s weird... I was told you would be going.”
The voice seemed troubled.
There’s a limit to jokes! I have in absolutely no way, heard about this beforehand!
“I’m not lying! I haven’t been told a thing about this! Okay? Moreover, what kind of idiot would just willingly accept the concept of another world?! The fact that we’re even talking about this is just plain weird!”
I attempted to explain my side of the story with all my available might.
“Huh, it seems as if it truly was not you. I apologize, I seem to have made a mistake.”
I breath a sigh of relief.
“I appreciate your apology, but are you going to bring me back home?!”
I still have yet to return to my original tone of voice.
My current tone may not be threatening, but it’s definitely not polite either.
I mean, who’s going to blame me? This is a completely ridiculous situation. It’s definitely not my fault.
“Of course I will.”
That’s what the voice said.
With that, I breathe another sigh of relief.
I’m so glad. It’s a ‘voice’ that can be reasoned with.
Usually, in a standard template scenario like this, this is the part where the voice would say ‘I’m sorry’, ‘it’s impossible’, or ‘oh well, try your best’ and would simply toss you out to fend for yourself.
Maybe you’d even be given the guy who tells you ‘You’re already dead’ and, without hearing any complaints, throws you out to fend for yourself in another world.
That’s what I thought would happen but...
I’m saved ~
“Well, I am extremely sorry… if that is truly the case, then as an alternative it must be either your younger or older sister.”
I retract everything I just said. This guy just said something that can’t be passed off as a joke.
It said it in a nonchalant way, but those were words I absolutely cannot let slip by.
“Hey... could you repeat yourself one more time?”
“Hm? If you are not the one to be chosen, that means one of your sisters must be. ”
“Don’t give me that shit!”
“If you touch my sisters, I’ll make sure you live to regret it!”
They’re out there, living their own lives to the fullest!
There’s no way they’d be able to just accept this situation!
The audacity! Without even an ounce of care in its voice, this thing says it’ll just whisk one of the two away!
Don’t mess with me!
“For the sake of confirming, you are indeed the Misumi family’s eldest son, Misumi Makoto-kun, correct?”
Why does it know my name?
“The kids of the Misumi household should have already been told of this matter. At least, that is what I was told. Is this not correct?”
The voice seemed even more troubled now then it did before.
I was a bit surprised by this. Although it kidnapped me out of nowhere, it still tried its best to respect my will.
Everything being considered…
“Well, for the time being, could you at least tell me your name?”
That’s right. I’m still somehow managing not to fall into a complete panic, but it’s not as if I’m extremely calm either.
The best way to put it would be, I’m composed. I have to settle down a bit.
Even now, I still don’t even know the identity of the voice.
“?? Oh yeah of course, you are quite right. I apologize for not having introduced myself sooner. I am called Tsukuyomi.”
“I see, Tsukuyomi. Tsukuyomi… Tsukuyomi?!”
“Oh? Do you know of me? I see you are quite knowledgeable.”
“You don’t mean, Tsukuyomi of the three Shinto gods, do you? That Tsukuyomi no Mikoto?!”
“Oooh, yes, that would indeed be correct. Although, compared to the other two, I am nothing but a minor character.”
I mean, that’s true. Even considering that though, he’s still a big shot.
I like myths and history (though only a bit), henceforth why I know of him.
If what the voice is saying is true, then he is quite the character.
“Why is it that the Tsukuyomi-sama knows of me?”
Let’s begin with the thing I understand the least. I don’t understand why I was chosen to travel to another world.
“…”
“I see, you really don’t know anything. Alright, I will tell you.”
Everything I was told from that point on, I honestly couldn’t get a grasp on it.
I was in a pretty fortunate position compared to those who are suddenly called to another world, get lost, or get reincarnated—or at least that’s what I had thought.
Prologue 2: The farewell gift is a secret
To summarize what Tsukuyomi-sama said to me, it goes something like this.
The reason for the transportation and procedure had all been explained to me.
Basically, my parents themselves were originally residents of this aforementioned other world.
When I was young, I was told that my grandparents had already died and that we didn’t have connections with any of our other relatives but… to think that this was the reason why.
In order to come to our current world, for one reason or another, they made an agreement with the god of that other world.
That’s what seems to have triggered my current situation.
That’s to say, the condition the god gave them was ‘one day, I will take that which is most important from you’.
Is that guy the devil?!
It seems my parents agreed to that condition.
Now that I think about it all three children of my family (myself include) were taught how to do domestic chores, as well as made to learn some sort of martial art.
To think that that was preparation for this of all things! All for the purpose of possibly being shipped off to another world at any time!
No no no, don’t joke around. My parents never told me anything about another world!
Well, to be fair, even if they had told me, I’d probably look at them as if they were a bunch of crazy people.
My father is a writer that specializes in making fantasy novels that are oddly realistic and hold a lot of presence.
Though, to think that that was because he had actually experienced the real thing is a little mind boggling.
In one of his works, he intricately detailed the flavors of a dragon steak, and the comforts of sleeping in a stable, both of which were especially moving moments.
The world that I’m going to now is that same magic filled fantasy world.
It seems that I’m going to be sent to that world with power that surpasses that of my peers. Due to various reasons, the people that are transferred over from my world are all incredibly strong.
In a sense, it’ll be as if I’ve been released from extremely heavy clothing.
It’s not like I’ll be given immortality though, so I can still suffer fatal wounds. At least, I’ve been warned of such.
Judging by what Tsukuyomi-sama has said, it seems that even just living in my world is a feat in and of itself.
Not only is there practically no magical power, the Gods’ divine protection can barely reach anyone there. It’s a harsh world in comparison to others. That’s the kind of place I’ve been living in up until now, at least, according to Tsukuyomi-sama.
Even though all I’ve done is live my life normally...
How convenient for me.
“I’m extremely sorry for shouting at you. It seems you’ve also had it rough Tsukuyomi-sama.” (Makoto)
Moreover, thinking about the hardships Tsukuyomi-sama must have faced due to being the middle child nestled between the two extraordinary beings that are his elder sister and younger brother...
I felt a flood of emotions when considering his situation. Even now, when he simply tried to do his job, he was shouted at by a person he barely knows.
He’s definitely had it rough so far.
“Well, well, to think your understanding of my own circumstance would be so intricate! How long has it been since I have felt such a blissful feeling? Though, if we are to talk about having it rough, Makoto-dono has it plenty rough himself.” (Tsukuyomi)
To think he even understands my feelings of being the only man wedged in between two sisters! I never thought the day would come, when somebody could sympathize with me so!
Now that I’ve been enlightened to his greatness, if there was ever a Tsukuyomi Mikoto religion, I’d enter it in a heart beat!
Hooray Tsukuyomi-sama!
“Nonetheless, my sisters and I have lived a normal life up until now. We’re way too late in the game to suddenly be told we’ve essentially been living in a wasteland all our lives.” (Makoto)
“Out of all the other worlds out there, yours is certainly the harshest. In the eyes of an otherworlder, it would be like live in the depths of the ocean or living in a sea of lava.” (Tsukuyomi)
“On a separate note, she really is taking her time.” (Tsukuyomi)
We’ve been waiting for the goddess of the other world to come and retrieve me but…
Considering how long she’s taking, it doesn’t seem like that goddess will be coming anytime soon.
It seems that world is a pretty popular place, inhabited by a Goddess and spirits alike.
In what way does that make it popular? I honestly have no clue.
By the way, I’ve already signed whatever it is Tsukuyomi-sama gave me. Of course, only after thoroughly reviewing the conditions and being convinced about it, okay?
After all, if I don’t go, either my older or younger sister would have to go in my place.
I’m extremely troubled by this, you know? Very troubled.
I mean, for one, I won’t be able to play games anymore. In a world where machines don’t exist, I won’t even be able to play something as simple as a mobile game!
I also have to bid farewell to all my manga and novels.
Furthermore, on my computer, there may or may not be a number of things that are 18+. If those get discovered, I have no clue how I would even begin to explain that to my family.
I’m a growing young man! It’s perfectly understandable! Right?!
That’s why I told Tsuki-sama about it, and requested the he clean it up in a covert manner so that my family wouldn’t notice.
This might not come off very well, but aside from my family, I honestly could care less if anyone else knows about it.
Now that I have been cornered, I understand just how tiny I truly am. Though, that’s how I really feel.
However, that isn’t any good.
That’s why I decided to stop being so self-centered. How do I say it? I’m honestly surprised at how much I prioritize myself!
Although, I still wanted to do something about my dark history.
While he did say I can’t return…
If my family who I won’t be able to see again, if they find the materials linked to my inner man…
“I can’t believe our kid had these kinds of hobbies!”(Makoto’s father)
“Even if he’s our child, how unrefined of him!”(Makoto’s mother)
“Onii-chan*, you’re disgusting!” (Makoto’s younger sister) [*Big brother]
“I can’t believe my little brother! Could it be?! Did he look at me with such a lascivious gaze as well?!”(Makoto’s older sister)
“NOOOOOOO!!! STOOOOOOOOOOOP!!!!!” (Makoto)
There’s absolutely no way I could take that! Even just imagining it is enough to make me want to kill myself!
“Do not worry young Mikoto.” (Tsukuyomi)
Tsuki-sama was different. While I was writhing due to the madness found within my heart, and was about to be engulfed by the accumulating negative feelings, he said this to me.
“Everything you have that contains contents of men’s dreams, books, and software, as well as the contents your hard drive; I will make sure to take responsibility of wiping them all from the face of the planet!” (Tsukuyomi)
Tsuki-sama said while nodding reassuringly.
He understood everything... absolutely everything about it...
He truly is a God! He truly is divine! Even if in the eyes of others, he is simply a minor character, he is definitely number one in my heart! You have become the greatest of Gods! The Chief God!
I am impressed by the fact that he knew of advanced technological devices such hard drives.
Honestly though, I’m not thinking too much about stuff like that. I’m just grateful that my potential nightmare has disappeared.
Tsuki-sama and I decided to kill time while waiting for the goddess. We talked about this and that. We talked about things such as society while drinking tea that was pulled out of who knows where.
“By the way, to my understanding in the new world I will have immense physical and magical power but…” (Makoto)
“Yes?” (Tsukuyomi)
“Will I receive something like a special ability? For example, an impenetrable barrier, the demon eye of truth, a Rose Logia, or a heavenly phase?” (Makoto)
I mean, if I have an incredible amount of magic power, there might not be any need. Even so, it’s the dream of any young man to have powers like that.
Normally, there are a lot of people that are given overpowered abilities when they arrive in another world, you know? That’s why I want it too, you know?
I mean, I guess that’s only in fiction though...
From what I’ve heard, there are demi-humans, and even beastkin so even if I’m a little abnormal I shouldn’t be discriminated against.
All that considered, it would be nice if I had one, at least that’s what I thought.
“Of course you will!” (Tsukuyomi)
“Seriously?! What kind? What kind will I get?” (Makoto)
I honestly didn’t think my request could be fulfilled~. You’ll only know if you ask, huh.
“I do not know. I am sorry, but it will be a surprise for when you arrive there. I myself can only go there once, and after that I will be incapable of communicating with you, so I am only going to give you a hint, okay?” (Tsukuyomi)
“Ooh~ I hope it’s something like a blank skill that lets you make any power you want!” (Makoto)
“Nope, that is not the case. I am sorry, but although I am divine, even I have limits imposed upon myself.” (Tsukuyomi)
“??” (Makoto)
“It is said that I am the one who governs the night and the moon, but my real attribute is quite ambiguous. In fact, it may be similar to what you speak of, a ‘blank skill’ of sorts.” (Tsukuyomi)
“That is why I will give you as much of my power as I can. Although, I do not know how it will bud, and what kind of fruit it shall bare. It may even become something you do not desire. For that, I am sorry.” (Tsukuyomi)
Having said that, Tsuki-sama beckons me to come closer.
Following his instructions, I sat beside him. He then placed his hand on me.
I felt something beginning to flow into me. That something went through my spine and then began to circulate throughout my whole body. It then went around to my chest, and began to gather there. Finally it calmed itself.
Is this the blessing he said he would give me?
“I feel something accumulating withing me. Is this what you would call the point of origin?” (Makoto)
“That’s right, you learn fast.”(Tsukuyomi)
“There should be no problems with the perception of your surroundings. When you imagine yourself letting the power out, it should active.” (Tsukuyomi)
“The feeling of releasing the power in the palm of your hands is probably the easiest to understand.” (Tsukuyomi)
“I should mention, it is currently impossible. This place is still technically located in your original world after all.” (Tsukuyomi)
I wanted to give it a try, but Tsuki-sama stopped me while laughing.
“This may be slightly tangential, Makoto-dono, but I should mention even if it is stated in your contract, the goddess of the other world should similarly give you an ability of some sort.
You will be abandoning your current world, of not particularly your own volition, so giving you side-benefits is of course a given.” (Tsukuyomi)
Once again, Tsuki-sama bows his head with an apologetic expression.
“No way, Tsukuyomi-sama! I am nothing but grateful to you. Maybe, just maybe, if I had been sent away without any explanation after rejecting you, and then, the next day, one of my sisters were to disappear, I would’ve regretted it for the rest of my life.” (Makoto)
“Makoto-dono is truly kind… it seems she has finally come.” (Tsukuyomi)
“Finally, huh. We’ve been talking for quite a while. No, more like her tardiness allowed us to do so.” (Makoto)
“You know, if you wanted, I could record all our conversations in a dream pillow. Is this really enough for you?” (Tsukuyomi)
In Tsuki-sama’s hand, there were two letters.
When I asked Tsuki-sama if I could leave anything behind for my family, he gave me a lot of different ways to give them a message in a heartbroken manner. In the end, I decided to go with letters. One was addressed to my parents, and the other to my sisters.
My parents, having come from there, would understand if I told them about the other world, but using that kind of explanation for my sisters would be hard. Therefore, I made two of them. I’ll let my parents decide whether or not to tell my sisters the truth of the matter.
Conversely, I asked if it was possible for me to take anything with me. In response, I was told that he could make some accommodations for it.
I chose various books and writing utensils (ball-pens and mechanical pencils were a no go, so I had to make due with a pencil). I wanted to bring a bit of food too, but for some reason I was denied that privilege as well. There’s are probably numerous laws for the management of worlds. I assume in this case, the preservation of what’s already there, huh.
“Yes, I don’t mind- huh?!” (Makoto)
My body is going transparent? I double checked just to be sure, but half my body has gone transparent?!
“What?! She plans to take you away without even giving me any notice?! What is she thinking, that stupid woman!” (Tsukuyomi)
Tsuki-sama was also panicking. It wasn’t like I was going to die though. I was just being taken away after all, so I felt a bit relieved.
“Makoto-dono, I am sorry! The Goddess that you are about to meet, is quite problematic and troublesome character. It is a given if you are unable to hide your displeasure. But, if you can find it somewhere in your heart, please, overlook her actions.” (Tsukuyomi)
Tsuki-sama is a wise person. He’s probably come into contact with a good number of people in his lifetime.
I smiled while nodding.
I was able to harden my resolve to travel to another world thanks to him, and he managed to make me accept the situation I was given. He chatted with me and helped calm myself.
Those were the words he gave me as I departed, the words from that Tsukuyomi Mikoto.
Even if the Goddess I’m about to meet in this parallel world has a troublesome personality, I will do my best to accept her for Tsukuyomi-sama’s sake.
2023.06.05 14:05 SmileyBDevil Annoyed that people confuse Tolerance with Acceptance
It's something that's bugged me a lot now and i saw and read some stories that brought it up again so I think I'll vent here and see what people think.
Currently, the world is the most peaceful globally than it's ever been. There are small scale conflicts to be sure and obviously in less developed countries the crime rate is higher. But overall the world has gotten better. I despise the belief that things were "better back when". To recap, the hospital or doctor's office weren't places you actually went to with a hope of getting better until the past century or so.
Prior to the beginning of the 1900s medical science was crude and you often were more likely to die in the hospital than out. There are other things of course like how the obscenely wealthy could literally disappear people, blatant serious racism (not microaggressions but for real hang someone from a tree lynchings were a thing) existed. Not going to get into the serious wars throughout history etc. My point is that objectively the world is better than it was overall and I think modern comfort has made many of us forget that. We take for granted not needing to have like 7 kids because 4 of them will probably not make it to adulthood. We take for granted, that we can have a say in government rather than be at the mercy of a monarch or emperor as mere serfs or peasants. We take for granted that we don't have to farm our own food or go out and hunt so we can eat. I feel the need to start with this to really hammer home the point about how good humanity has it collectively and that we can complain and voice our opinions because of the ease modern society has brought our lives.
So, on to the meat of the situation. I suppose it's because we all have it so easy compared to our forebears that we are so entitled and self-centered on the whole. We can get things almost immediately and have so much control of our lives individually. What irks me is how people constantly try to force their way of life and beliefs down other people's throats and think it's OK or even justified. I will be clear and say I believe we are all owed tolerance BUT not acceptance.
Now I believe in doing no harm and live and let live. If someone isn't hurting themselves or others then leave it be. Even if you don't agree with them it's not for you or anyone else to sit in judgement of them as we are all flawed, small and fragile mortal humans. You may judge someone's actions and indeed, judging actions is important. But none of us are appointed directly by some greater power to judge someone as a person. We can only see from our own perspectives and expecting others to believe what we believe or worse believing we're somehow more "right" than others is to suggest that you are more than human. That's just arrogance.
So what's the difference between tolerance and acceptance? Tolerance is when someone may not agree with someone or what they are doing but they won't do anything to negatively impact the person. You tolerate a child crying on a subway. You don't yell at the child but you are still allowed and entitled to your feelings of anger. Acceptance is being fine with the child crying and not getting upset over it.
But what's the important thing? That you didn't harm the child emotionally or physically. You didn't do anything negative to the child at all. And why? Because children cry. That's just how they are. Now getting into a more relevant example. Years ago in college a friend of mine who was in the pride alliance (she was bisexual) was with her group of friends. I happened to stop by as she was an RA managing the front and talked for a bit. I think one of her friends was trying to be provocative and confrontational and asked me what I think of alternative sexuality. I flatly told her what she does with another woman and perhaps additional partners in a bedroom is none of my business and doesn't affect me at all. I told her clearly that I was indifferent. That intimacy was between partners and shouldn't be anyone else's business. She pushed and asked if seeing two women make out or two men make out would bother me to which I told her watching 2 straight people make out in front of me would make me uncomfortable. It was less the sexual aspect and more that it was not my business. So I guess you could say that I'm accepting of alternative sexuality but not PDA. Call me childish but seeing other couples in public being close...ewwww. I could tolerate PDA but I didn't like it.
The other thing that bugged me is that so many people make false equivalencies. Some of her group argued the the PDA and sexuality were linked. Yes and No. PDA is linked to sexuality and attraction but has nothing to do with sexual preference. Still, a few were annoyed that I wasn't fine with all of it because they couldn't see the distinction. I also saw on another post about a mother who had a gay son. She was conservative and religious but while she didn't like or approve of her son's sexuality, she still loved her son dearly and got on well with his husband attended their wedding and is still a very good mother and MIL to her son and his husband. And why? because her love for her son and good nature was greater than her beliefs and bias. This was an excellent example of the tolerance which her son and his husband deserved. Yet people in the comments (not too many but a lot) attacked her andberated her for not loving everything about her son. News flash, who the hell loves everything about someone? Since when has loving all of a person and everything about that person been the prerequisite? We all get on each other's nerves at times. Even the best of family and friends.
I guess I'll close by saying we are all owed tolerance at least for behavior and the parts of ourselves that are on the whole personal and have no serious negative impact on others. If you're not doing real harm to yourself or others than no-one has the right to stand in judgement of you. At the same time, you are not entitled to acceptance. Everyone has their own feelings and beliefs. They are entitled to those feelings and beliefs. But you are entitled to tolerance and people should not punish or hurt you for what you think or feel. What matters is action. Even if you don't agree with someone it isn't your place to judge them. Their actions can be judged but not they as people. If there is anything we have to accept its that we aren't owed acceptance and that not having someone accept everything about us doesn't make us lesser people or wrong. Just human.
submitted by SmileyBDevil to offmychest [link] [comments]
Currently, the world is the most peaceful globally than it's ever been. There are small scale conflicts to be sure and obviously in less developed countries the crime rate is higher. But overall the world has gotten better. I despise the belief that things were "better back when". To recap, the hospital or doctor's office weren't places you actually went to with a hope of getting better until the past century or so.
Prior to the beginning of the 1900s medical science was crude and you often were more likely to die in the hospital than out. There are other things of course like how the obscenely wealthy could literally disappear people, blatant serious racism (not microaggressions but for real hang someone from a tree lynchings were a thing) existed. Not going to get into the serious wars throughout history etc. My point is that objectively the world is better than it was overall and I think modern comfort has made many of us forget that. We take for granted not needing to have like 7 kids because 4 of them will probably not make it to adulthood. We take for granted, that we can have a say in government rather than be at the mercy of a monarch or emperor as mere serfs or peasants. We take for granted that we don't have to farm our own food or go out and hunt so we can eat. I feel the need to start with this to really hammer home the point about how good humanity has it collectively and that we can complain and voice our opinions because of the ease modern society has brought our lives.
So, on to the meat of the situation. I suppose it's because we all have it so easy compared to our forebears that we are so entitled and self-centered on the whole. We can get things almost immediately and have so much control of our lives individually. What irks me is how people constantly try to force their way of life and beliefs down other people's throats and think it's OK or even justified. I will be clear and say I believe we are all owed tolerance BUT not acceptance.
Now I believe in doing no harm and live and let live. If someone isn't hurting themselves or others then leave it be. Even if you don't agree with them it's not for you or anyone else to sit in judgement of them as we are all flawed, small and fragile mortal humans. You may judge someone's actions and indeed, judging actions is important. But none of us are appointed directly by some greater power to judge someone as a person. We can only see from our own perspectives and expecting others to believe what we believe or worse believing we're somehow more "right" than others is to suggest that you are more than human. That's just arrogance.
So what's the difference between tolerance and acceptance? Tolerance is when someone may not agree with someone or what they are doing but they won't do anything to negatively impact the person. You tolerate a child crying on a subway. You don't yell at the child but you are still allowed and entitled to your feelings of anger. Acceptance is being fine with the child crying and not getting upset over it.
But what's the important thing? That you didn't harm the child emotionally or physically. You didn't do anything negative to the child at all. And why? Because children cry. That's just how they are. Now getting into a more relevant example. Years ago in college a friend of mine who was in the pride alliance (she was bisexual) was with her group of friends. I happened to stop by as she was an RA managing the front and talked for a bit. I think one of her friends was trying to be provocative and confrontational and asked me what I think of alternative sexuality. I flatly told her what she does with another woman and perhaps additional partners in a bedroom is none of my business and doesn't affect me at all. I told her clearly that I was indifferent. That intimacy was between partners and shouldn't be anyone else's business. She pushed and asked if seeing two women make out or two men make out would bother me to which I told her watching 2 straight people make out in front of me would make me uncomfortable. It was less the sexual aspect and more that it was not my business. So I guess you could say that I'm accepting of alternative sexuality but not PDA. Call me childish but seeing other couples in public being close...ewwww. I could tolerate PDA but I didn't like it.
The other thing that bugged me is that so many people make false equivalencies. Some of her group argued the the PDA and sexuality were linked. Yes and No. PDA is linked to sexuality and attraction but has nothing to do with sexual preference. Still, a few were annoyed that I wasn't fine with all of it because they couldn't see the distinction. I also saw on another post about a mother who had a gay son. She was conservative and religious but while she didn't like or approve of her son's sexuality, she still loved her son dearly and got on well with his husband attended their wedding and is still a very good mother and MIL to her son and his husband. And why? because her love for her son and good nature was greater than her beliefs and bias. This was an excellent example of the tolerance which her son and his husband deserved. Yet people in the comments (not too many but a lot) attacked her andberated her for not loving everything about her son. News flash, who the hell loves everything about someone? Since when has loving all of a person and everything about that person been the prerequisite? We all get on each other's nerves at times. Even the best of family and friends.
I guess I'll close by saying we are all owed tolerance at least for behavior and the parts of ourselves that are on the whole personal and have no serious negative impact on others. If you're not doing real harm to yourself or others than no-one has the right to stand in judgement of you. At the same time, you are not entitled to acceptance. Everyone has their own feelings and beliefs. They are entitled to those feelings and beliefs. But you are entitled to tolerance and people should not punish or hurt you for what you think or feel. What matters is action. Even if you don't agree with someone it isn't your place to judge them. Their actions can be judged but not they as people. If there is anything we have to accept its that we aren't owed acceptance and that not having someone accept everything about us doesn't make us lesser people or wrong. Just human.
2023.06.05 14:04 zeevahealthcare Top 10 IVF Centre in Noida
 | In recent years, Noida has emerged as a leading destination for infertility treatments, particularly In-Vitro Fertilization (IVF). With advancements in medical technology and a growing demand for assisted reproductive techniques, several reputable IVF centers have established their presence in Noida. This article aims to provide an overview of the top 10 IVF centers in Noida, highlighting their key features, success rates, and patient experiences. submitted by zeevahealthcare to u/zeevahealthcare [link] [comments] https://preview.redd.it/a5db9bcjw64b1.jpg?width=1380&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=68b79c84b4e59582a00d1d637ebd1895ea8ff76f
|
2023.06.05 13:53 HikkyStyle Test Arach - R - 06
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 0 PoliceStation Jihen: สืบสวน (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 1 Assignment Jihen: สืบสวน (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 2 On The Road Jihen: สืบสวน (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 3 On The Road Jihen (2) (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 4 AMEzingland Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 5 AMEzingland Jihen (2) (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 6 AMEzingland Jihen (3) (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 7 Fifty Floor Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 8 Fifty Floor Jihen (2) (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 9 Hotel Room Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 10 Midnight Override Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 11 Midnight Override Jihen (2) (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 12 Treasure Hunt Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 13 Treasure Hunt Jihen (2) (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 14 Treasure Hunt Jihen (3) (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 15 Tresure Hunt Jihen (4) (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 16 Back to Zero Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 17 Long time no Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 18 Footwork Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 19 Affective Score Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 20 Swiftz Wind & Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 21 Disaster Encounter Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 22 Enchanted One Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - Special 1 Farmer Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 23 Either Thorn Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 24 Repeat Windz & Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 25 Another Disaster Encounter Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 26 Into The Mist Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 27 Separate Way Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 28 Winter End Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 29 X-mas Light Sniper Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 30 Escape from Locksmiths Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - Special 2 Sweet Treat Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 31 Glacial Fortress Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - Special 3 Disenchant Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 32 Collide by Reality Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 33 Lurking in the Dark Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 34 Night Swing JIhen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 35 Night Swing Jihen (2) (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 36 Looping Windz Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 37 Little Step Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 38 Idolmaster Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 39 H2O Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 40 World Code Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 41 Seaweed reunite Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 42 Less Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 43 Before Storm Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 44 Tailored Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 45 Fire or Offer Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 46 Fire or Offer Jihen (2) (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 47 225km/h Betray Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 48 Equivalent Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 49 Remnant of the past Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - Special 2 Ariman News ครั้งที่ 341: สืบสวน (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 50 Long way down Jihen: สืบสวน (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 51 Long way down Jihen (2) (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 52 Long way down Jihen (3) (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 53 Selimanyong Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 54 Triming Darkness Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 55 Behind the scope Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 56 Carousel of the past Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 57 Echo Sounder Jihen: สืบสวน (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 58 Rotten Haven Jihen: สืบสวน (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 59 Back to zero.2 Jihen: สืบสวน (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 60 Blazing Jihen: สืบสวน (readawrite.com)
https://www.readawrite.com/c/e164c834b989056bd15435c10c2031dc
https://www.readawrite.com/c/339a98fbcbeddf95ee3aeb424caf2c27
https://www.readawrite.com/c/623057d7d873f518857b5f221d4a0b6d
https://www.readawrite.com/c/900d7d2d78cc48880004f48dec6ca493
https://www.readawrite.com/c/fedce2bdf35d14d3309c32ed360706b8
https://www.readawrite.com/c/606c84439001016e64db43a67b6f5788
https://www.readawrite.com/c/47131b42c4edd5b5ca5366385ef6d3da
https://www.readawrite.com/c/0147e62a506da673bc50f63890c2466c
https://www.readawrite.com/c/4dc4bd906ce7bdc8c6996b72a107f189
https://www.readawrite.com/c/7cb7d50b00b6e5fb1de60eef7e9471e4
https://www.readawrite.com/c/8bd3a46ac8ad9197d52c96f37c78625f
submitted by HikkyStyle to u/HikkyStyle [link] [comments]
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 1 Assignment Jihen: สืบสวน (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 2 On The Road Jihen: สืบสวน (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 3 On The Road Jihen (2) (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 4 AMEzingland Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 5 AMEzingland Jihen (2) (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 6 AMEzingland Jihen (3) (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 7 Fifty Floor Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 8 Fifty Floor Jihen (2) (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 9 Hotel Room Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 10 Midnight Override Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 11 Midnight Override Jihen (2) (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 12 Treasure Hunt Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 13 Treasure Hunt Jihen (2) (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 14 Treasure Hunt Jihen (3) (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 15 Tresure Hunt Jihen (4) (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 16 Back to Zero Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 17 Long time no Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 18 Footwork Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 19 Affective Score Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 20 Swiftz Wind & Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 21 Disaster Encounter Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 22 Enchanted One Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - Special 1 Farmer Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 23 Either Thorn Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 24 Repeat Windz & Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 25 Another Disaster Encounter Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 26 Into The Mist Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 27 Separate Way Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 28 Winter End Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 29 X-mas Light Sniper Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 30 Escape from Locksmiths Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - Special 2 Sweet Treat Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 31 Glacial Fortress Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - Special 3 Disenchant Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 32 Collide by Reality Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 33 Lurking in the Dark Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 34 Night Swing JIhen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 35 Night Swing Jihen (2) (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 36 Looping Windz Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 37 Little Step Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 38 Idolmaster Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 39 H2O Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 40 World Code Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 41 Seaweed reunite Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 42 Less Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 43 Before Storm Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 44 Tailored Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 45 Fire or Offer Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 46 Fire or Offer Jihen (2) (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 47 225km/h Betray Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 48 Equivalent Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 49 Remnant of the past Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - Special 2 Ariman News ครั้งที่ 341: สืบสวน (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 50 Long way down Jihen: สืบสวน (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 51 Long way down Jihen (2) (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 52 Long way down Jihen (3) (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 53 Selimanyong Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 54 Triming Darkness Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 55 Behind the scope Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 56 Carousel of the past Jihen (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 57 Echo Sounder Jihen: สืบสวน (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 58 Rotten Haven Jihen: สืบสวน (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 59 Back to zero.2 Jihen: สืบสวน (readawrite.com)
ArachnidTrail - ตอนที่ 60 Blazing Jihen: สืบสวน (readawrite.com)
https://www.readawrite.com/c/e164c834b989056bd15435c10c2031dc
https://www.readawrite.com/c/339a98fbcbeddf95ee3aeb424caf2c27
https://www.readawrite.com/c/623057d7d873f518857b5f221d4a0b6d
https://www.readawrite.com/c/900d7d2d78cc48880004f48dec6ca493
https://www.readawrite.com/c/fedce2bdf35d14d3309c32ed360706b8
https://www.readawrite.com/c/606c84439001016e64db43a67b6f5788
https://www.readawrite.com/c/47131b42c4edd5b5ca5366385ef6d3da
https://www.readawrite.com/c/0147e62a506da673bc50f63890c2466c
https://www.readawrite.com/c/4dc4bd906ce7bdc8c6996b72a107f189
https://www.readawrite.com/c/7cb7d50b00b6e5fb1de60eef7e9471e4
https://www.readawrite.com/c/8bd3a46ac8ad9197d52c96f37c78625f
2023.06.05 13:48 spanishbombs123 I think I’m being discriminated by a locum pharmacist.
So I had another awful encounter with a locum pharmacist. So I (f23) used to be addicted to codeine. My usual pharmacist is absolutely amazing with me and treats me with so much respect and dignity- this locum pharmacist does not. I’ve had two run ins with her now.
First time was when I had to pick my buprenorphine up for the day. I have work at 9.30 but I get there ten mins early so I’m the first one then grab the bus quickly. It opens at 9.
My blue script at the moment is supervised meaning I have to take it in front of them in a private room and wait a couple minutes for it to dissolve a bit. This stops people from taking them out of their mouth and selling it. They do this but give me a couple of days worth to take home as well.
I was the first one in and she knew I was there. 15 mins go by and 3 people have already been served before me. She then starts making a cup of tea and asks if any of the other staff would like one.
At 20 minutes past I let the other staff members know I haven’t been served and need to get to work and she still takes an extra 10 minutes to give it to me and when she gave it to me she said ‘next time don’t come so early.’
I just walked out and didn’t say anything as It was all too stressful. I told my dad about it and he ended up going down to try and make a complaint.
She basically never said sorry and said that they’re really busy in the mornings. She didn’t give him any information to make a formal complaint.
I sent a complaint via email and didn’t hear back. I sent another email about 2 weeks later but still didn’t hear anything back so since then (about 3 months) it kinda drifted out of my mind.
Today the pharmacy was absolutely packed with about 10 people in a small space. Someone had been waiting there before me and he asked to talk to the pharmacist.
He basically had gone two places already and then to the doctors to pick up his daily diazepam which means he’s weaning off something. He explained all of this and she said ‘we don’t have the script here for you’ then walked off into her pharmacy room.
I was so annoyed. This man just needs a little care and compassion. He’s obviously very agitated as he’s in withdrawal. What she said was so rude and she didn’t even explain to him what he needed to do next to sort it.
Anyways she’s trying to take me in the private room so 10 people don’t see me taking the medication. There’s so much stigma already and a couple of times when I have done it not in the room I’ve had people call me a heroin addict and told me to go get a job etc.
Because the man was sort of in the way she decides to get the medication out in front of everyone to see and gives it to me. She doesn’t talk to me at all whilst giving it to me so I go to walk over by the chairs by the door to wait and because I was by the door she shouted in front of everyone ‘EXCUSE ME YOU NEED TO WAIT HERE FOR 10 MINUTES.’ I felt absolutely humiliated.
I have a support worker for drug dependency and she actually asked me at one point about all of this and she explained her and many other support workers hear that people on blue scripts are treated very badly- especially with locum pharmacists.
If you have similar stories of pharmacists not being nice to you due to being on a blue script I would love to hear your stories
EDIT: I’m from the uk
submitted by spanishbombs123 to OpiatesRecovery [link] [comments]
First time was when I had to pick my buprenorphine up for the day. I have work at 9.30 but I get there ten mins early so I’m the first one then grab the bus quickly. It opens at 9.
My blue script at the moment is supervised meaning I have to take it in front of them in a private room and wait a couple minutes for it to dissolve a bit. This stops people from taking them out of their mouth and selling it. They do this but give me a couple of days worth to take home as well.
I was the first one in and she knew I was there. 15 mins go by and 3 people have already been served before me. She then starts making a cup of tea and asks if any of the other staff would like one.
At 20 minutes past I let the other staff members know I haven’t been served and need to get to work and she still takes an extra 10 minutes to give it to me and when she gave it to me she said ‘next time don’t come so early.’
I just walked out and didn’t say anything as It was all too stressful. I told my dad about it and he ended up going down to try and make a complaint.
She basically never said sorry and said that they’re really busy in the mornings. She didn’t give him any information to make a formal complaint.
I sent a complaint via email and didn’t hear back. I sent another email about 2 weeks later but still didn’t hear anything back so since then (about 3 months) it kinda drifted out of my mind.
Today the pharmacy was absolutely packed with about 10 people in a small space. Someone had been waiting there before me and he asked to talk to the pharmacist.
He basically had gone two places already and then to the doctors to pick up his daily diazepam which means he’s weaning off something. He explained all of this and she said ‘we don’t have the script here for you’ then walked off into her pharmacy room.
I was so annoyed. This man just needs a little care and compassion. He’s obviously very agitated as he’s in withdrawal. What she said was so rude and she didn’t even explain to him what he needed to do next to sort it.
Anyways she’s trying to take me in the private room so 10 people don’t see me taking the medication. There’s so much stigma already and a couple of times when I have done it not in the room I’ve had people call me a heroin addict and told me to go get a job etc.
Because the man was sort of in the way she decides to get the medication out in front of everyone to see and gives it to me. She doesn’t talk to me at all whilst giving it to me so I go to walk over by the chairs by the door to wait and because I was by the door she shouted in front of everyone ‘EXCUSE ME YOU NEED TO WAIT HERE FOR 10 MINUTES.’ I felt absolutely humiliated.
I have a support worker for drug dependency and she actually asked me at one point about all of this and she explained her and many other support workers hear that people on blue scripts are treated very badly- especially with locum pharmacists.
If you have similar stories of pharmacists not being nice to you due to being on a blue script I would love to hear your stories
EDIT: I’m from the uk
2023.06.05 13:47 iguessigotlost Qelbree (Week 1) Questions
I (20M) recently got diagnosed with ADHD-PI and GAD and my psychiatrist put me on 200mg of Qelbree and said to come in after 3 weeks for a follow up.
This is the first time i’ve been on any medication of any kind and am unsure if i’m dealing with an adjustment period of some sort or if this is just how it’s going to be on this medication.
On the two days of my first week where i’m not falling asleep throughout the day, sleeping in, and having bad headaches I haven’t felt any change in task initiation, improvements in focusing, or anxiety. Only thing other than the sleepiness and headaches that i’m feeling is a little more irritable and lack of appetite but I meal prep so Im still eating the amount of healthy food I was before regardless if I’m hungry or not.
My main question is, Should I be sticking it out for the 3 weeks? or should I let my psychiatrist know now that i’m literally falling asleep at work and at home when im on my days off b/c it’s getting pretty hard to do anything productive when all I can think about is when I can take my next nap.
submitted by iguessigotlost to qelbree [link] [comments]
This is the first time i’ve been on any medication of any kind and am unsure if i’m dealing with an adjustment period of some sort or if this is just how it’s going to be on this medication.
On the two days of my first week where i’m not falling asleep throughout the day, sleeping in, and having bad headaches I haven’t felt any change in task initiation, improvements in focusing, or anxiety. Only thing other than the sleepiness and headaches that i’m feeling is a little more irritable and lack of appetite but I meal prep so Im still eating the amount of healthy food I was before regardless if I’m hungry or not.
My main question is, Should I be sticking it out for the 3 weeks? or should I let my psychiatrist know now that i’m literally falling asleep at work and at home when im on my days off b/c it’s getting pretty hard to do anything productive when all I can think about is when I can take my next nap.
2023.06.05 13:42 FortyFiftyFabulous Solid article on gabapentin for hot flashes
https://vajenda.substack.com/p/gabapentin-for-hot-flashes-in-menopause?utm_medium=email
What is Gabapentin?
Gabapentin was first approved for use in the United States in 1993, is it’s been around for a long time and we have a lot of experience with it. Initially, the belief was that gabapentin worked like g-aminobutyric acid or GABA, which is an inhibitory neurotransmitter in the brain and hence the name gabapentin. When it became clear that gabapentin didn’t work on GABA receptors, it had this “no one really knows” asterisk.
In the last decade or so new research has emerged showing gabapentin inhibits a
specific kind of calcium channel, which are tiny pores on nerves that can open and allow calcium to pass through, generating an electrical signal which ultimate leads to the release of certain neurotransmitters. Gabapentin needs to be taken regularly to have this effect, so it’s not something that you take just when you want it to work, for example like ibuprofen.
Gabapentin is currently used for a variety of conditions/symptoms, such as epilepsy, pain after shingles (post herpetic neuralgia), insomnia, chronic pain restless leg syndrome, and anxiety. And of course, hot flashes.
With hot flashes, the hypothesis is that gabapentin affects signaling in the thermoregulatory center in the brain via its effect on calcium channels and neurotransmitters. The analogy I use is gabapentin helps to correct abnormal messaging. It’s also possible gabapentin may be having an effect by improving sleep and/or by reducing anxiety, as there is a relationship between somatic anxiety (anxiety with physical symptoms) and hot flashes.
What is the Supporting Evidence?
There are several good quality clinical trials that address gabapentin for hot flashes and it has even been the subject of a recent meta-analysis. In studies, gabapentin reduced hot flashes from 45%-71% depending on the dose. In one, albeit small, clinical trial 2,400 mg of gabapentin divided three times a day was as effective as 0.625 mg of Premarin a day (which is a standard dose for hot flashes).
How to Take Gabapentin?
Gabapentin has a short half life, meaning it is removed from the body quickly, so ideally it is taken three times a day. The dosing for hot flashes ranges from 300 mg three times a day (900 mg/day total) to 800 mg three times a day (2,400 mg/day total). However, for someone whose main concern is night sweats or sleep disturbances it would be reasonable to start with one dose a day before bed and then give it a few weeks before adding in daytime doses.
When gabapentin is started at too high a dose, side effects, such as feeling dizzy, being tired, or even feeling unsteady, are more common. This can be greatly reduced by starting low and increasing slowly. A typical starting dose is 300 mg a day taken before bed and then increasing by one daytime dose each week until you are taking 300 mg three times a day. Typically, it takes several weeks for the benefit to kick in, so I suggest once someone reaches 300 mg three times a day they wait four weeks and then if things haven’t improved sufficiently, increase by one dose each week until you are taking 600 mg three times a day. Again, wait for three to four weeks and if desired, increase again in the same way until you are taking 900 mg three times a day. This is 2,700 mg total a day, which is fine dose-wise and this can be the maintenance dose, but if preferred, can be switched out to an 800 mg tablet three times a day. The only issue is the tablets are large (in the United States anyway), so some people who need the maximum dose prefer to take three of the 300 mg capsules three times a day instead of one of the 800 mg capsules.
Generally, it’s uncommon to need more than 300 mg three times a day, but if the side effects are minimal or less bothersome than the hot flashes, people often want to try increasing to see if the benefit improves.
If the initial 300 mg dose causes too many side effects or if you are someone who is sensitive to medications, start with 100 mg at night and then each week increase by a 100 mg capsule until you are taking 300 mg at night. Often people get used to the side effects over time. Similarly, the doses throughout the day can be increased by 100 mg each week if desires. It’s fine to take the time you need.
I have a lot of people who do well with just a bedtime dose, so that’s always an option, Day time doses can always be added in later.
There is a lot of flexibility here, so you can settle on the dose combination that works for you and that you can tolerate. While many people might take 300 mg three times a day, others might take 400 mg in the morning, 300 mg in the afternoon, and 600 mg at night based one what works. There is a lot of room for individualization.
Gabapentin is removed from the body via the kidneys, so people with kidney disease may need to have their dose reduced. Also, anyone with epilepsy, moderate to severe depression, or bipolar disease should check with the doctor who is helping them manage those conditions before starting. Most of the drug interactions involve other medications that are potentially sedating, so caution is needed here and this includes alcohol.
All drugs for epilepsy, gabapentin included, have black box warnings for suicidal thoughts or behaviors, and while this is very uncommon it’s something you need to know about. This is a warning is a little controversial as the warning groups together multiple different drugs for epilepsy that work in very different ways under one umbrella. Also, the data comes from adverse event reporting and not clinical trials and it lumps together reports from people taking these medications for very different reasons and the idea of considering people with epilepsy, severe depression, and chronic pain as one group is problematic. What this means for the average person wanting to try gabapentin for hot flashes is that you should be screened for depression and risk of suicidality before you begin (as you should be, in my opinion, before starting any medication for menopause). And for someone who may be at increased risk based on preexisting depression, a consultation with a mental health professional before starting is wise.
Final Thoughts
I have had a lot of success with gabapentin. I’ve had people reach out to me who have started it based on what they read in The Menopause Manifesto and are really glad they gave it a try. I am always shocked to hear how it’s rarely offered. The data is quite good and there is a generic version, so it’s one of the more affordable medications available.
submitted by FortyFiftyFabulous to Menopause [link] [comments]
What is Gabapentin?
Gabapentin was first approved for use in the United States in 1993, is it’s been around for a long time and we have a lot of experience with it. Initially, the belief was that gabapentin worked like g-aminobutyric acid or GABA, which is an inhibitory neurotransmitter in the brain and hence the name gabapentin. When it became clear that gabapentin didn’t work on GABA receptors, it had this “no one really knows” asterisk.
In the last decade or so new research has emerged showing gabapentin inhibits a
specific kind of calcium channel, which are tiny pores on nerves that can open and allow calcium to pass through, generating an electrical signal which ultimate leads to the release of certain neurotransmitters. Gabapentin needs to be taken regularly to have this effect, so it’s not something that you take just when you want it to work, for example like ibuprofen.
Gabapentin is currently used for a variety of conditions/symptoms, such as epilepsy, pain after shingles (post herpetic neuralgia), insomnia, chronic pain restless leg syndrome, and anxiety. And of course, hot flashes.
With hot flashes, the hypothesis is that gabapentin affects signaling in the thermoregulatory center in the brain via its effect on calcium channels and neurotransmitters. The analogy I use is gabapentin helps to correct abnormal messaging. It’s also possible gabapentin may be having an effect by improving sleep and/or by reducing anxiety, as there is a relationship between somatic anxiety (anxiety with physical symptoms) and hot flashes.
What is the Supporting Evidence?
There are several good quality clinical trials that address gabapentin for hot flashes and it has even been the subject of a recent meta-analysis. In studies, gabapentin reduced hot flashes from 45%-71% depending on the dose. In one, albeit small, clinical trial 2,400 mg of gabapentin divided three times a day was as effective as 0.625 mg of Premarin a day (which is a standard dose for hot flashes).
How to Take Gabapentin?
Gabapentin has a short half life, meaning it is removed from the body quickly, so ideally it is taken three times a day. The dosing for hot flashes ranges from 300 mg three times a day (900 mg/day total) to 800 mg three times a day (2,400 mg/day total). However, for someone whose main concern is night sweats or sleep disturbances it would be reasonable to start with one dose a day before bed and then give it a few weeks before adding in daytime doses.
When gabapentin is started at too high a dose, side effects, such as feeling dizzy, being tired, or even feeling unsteady, are more common. This can be greatly reduced by starting low and increasing slowly. A typical starting dose is 300 mg a day taken before bed and then increasing by one daytime dose each week until you are taking 300 mg three times a day. Typically, it takes several weeks for the benefit to kick in, so I suggest once someone reaches 300 mg three times a day they wait four weeks and then if things haven’t improved sufficiently, increase by one dose each week until you are taking 600 mg three times a day. Again, wait for three to four weeks and if desired, increase again in the same way until you are taking 900 mg three times a day. This is 2,700 mg total a day, which is fine dose-wise and this can be the maintenance dose, but if preferred, can be switched out to an 800 mg tablet three times a day. The only issue is the tablets are large (in the United States anyway), so some people who need the maximum dose prefer to take three of the 300 mg capsules three times a day instead of one of the 800 mg capsules.
Generally, it’s uncommon to need more than 300 mg three times a day, but if the side effects are minimal or less bothersome than the hot flashes, people often want to try increasing to see if the benefit improves.
If the initial 300 mg dose causes too many side effects or if you are someone who is sensitive to medications, start with 100 mg at night and then each week increase by a 100 mg capsule until you are taking 300 mg at night. Often people get used to the side effects over time. Similarly, the doses throughout the day can be increased by 100 mg each week if desires. It’s fine to take the time you need.
I have a lot of people who do well with just a bedtime dose, so that’s always an option, Day time doses can always be added in later.
There is a lot of flexibility here, so you can settle on the dose combination that works for you and that you can tolerate. While many people might take 300 mg three times a day, others might take 400 mg in the morning, 300 mg in the afternoon, and 600 mg at night based one what works. There is a lot of room for individualization.
Gabapentin is removed from the body via the kidneys, so people with kidney disease may need to have their dose reduced. Also, anyone with epilepsy, moderate to severe depression, or bipolar disease should check with the doctor who is helping them manage those conditions before starting. Most of the drug interactions involve other medications that are potentially sedating, so caution is needed here and this includes alcohol.
All drugs for epilepsy, gabapentin included, have black box warnings for suicidal thoughts or behaviors, and while this is very uncommon it’s something you need to know about. This is a warning is a little controversial as the warning groups together multiple different drugs for epilepsy that work in very different ways under one umbrella. Also, the data comes from adverse event reporting and not clinical trials and it lumps together reports from people taking these medications for very different reasons and the idea of considering people with epilepsy, severe depression, and chronic pain as one group is problematic. What this means for the average person wanting to try gabapentin for hot flashes is that you should be screened for depression and risk of suicidality before you begin (as you should be, in my opinion, before starting any medication for menopause). And for someone who may be at increased risk based on preexisting depression, a consultation with a mental health professional before starting is wise.
Final Thoughts
I have had a lot of success with gabapentin. I’ve had people reach out to me who have started it based on what they read in The Menopause Manifesto and are really glad they gave it a try. I am always shocked to hear how it’s rarely offered. The data is quite good and there is a generic version, so it’s one of the more affordable medications available.
2023.06.05 13:42 Appropriate_Bat_8132 What would you classify this activity as?
I work with a new, novel medical process treating patients. A few members of our professional society came by a few months ago to watch our process, and ended up recruiting me to be a member of the task force on their safety white paper.
Basically I am working with physicians and other members of the healthcare team to draft, research, and write a document to help new centers establish a program at their own centers. It would also include surveying other centers to reach a consensus for the correct way to do things.
The result would be publication so I am really tempted to list this as research since it’s the one area I’m lacking in. I’m mostly doing it at work during my downtime, but I’m not being paid extra and my job role hasn’t changed.
submitted by Appropriate_Bat_8132 to premed [link] [comments]
Basically I am working with physicians and other members of the healthcare team to draft, research, and write a document to help new centers establish a program at their own centers. It would also include surveying other centers to reach a consensus for the correct way to do things.
The result would be publication so I am really tempted to list this as research since it’s the one area I’m lacking in. I’m mostly doing it at work during my downtime, but I’m not being paid extra and my job role hasn’t changed.
2023.06.05 13:38 keep_running3 Questions/concerns
I tfmr’ed on 5/24/23 because my beautiful daughter had HLHS with other complications. My heart is still absolutely broken. Some questions:
submitted by keep_running3 to tfmr_support [link] [comments]
- What helped you come to peace with your decision if it was a diagnosis that was severe but not considered life threatening (even though HLHS can absolutely be life threatening)? I’m having a hard time being ok from our decision since it sort of felt like a gamble on how well she would handle open heart surgeries etc (which no one would know unless we did not terminate). The extremes of how she could of reacted/handled the medical issues were so wide, of course I think “what if”
- I’m almost 2 weeks out and still bleeding, I’m praying I don’t have retained tissue as I’ve read from some of your posts. I don’t want to go through any more procedures or delay this at all. How long did you all bleed and did you have retained tissue?
- How did you handle trying again? I’m 35 and my husband is 41 so it honestly feels like we don’t get time to process and take a break. Feels like we are having to jump right in after getting my first period (which is frustrating to wait for too since I haven’t stopped bleeding from the procedure-feels like it could be forever until I get my first period)
- I need some positive thoughts and stories and successful healthy pregnancies after. We have a miscarriage late last year and then this TFMR so I’m feeling really low. We are going to a geneticist just in case but I’m absolutely terrified we are not going to be able to have a healthy baby.