commotiocordis: Green on black, an animated depiction of a normal heart rhythm on an ECG monitor. (Default)
Spent several hours on Sunday collecting names and phone numbers and everything of about 10 different psychiatrists sorted by increasing distance from home (since there are only 2 covered by my insurance here in my university's entire city, despite it being the 3rd biggest in the state). Was planning to call as many as it took this morning to hopefully find somebody who could fit me in on Thursday to tack on an anxiety disorder diagnosis and get some horse tranquilizers to maybe get me through the rest of the semester without, you know, having a panic attack so bad (or continuing on this unbreakable series of them) that I kill myself.

But then I realized. If I don't get my lupus/fibro/whatever diagnosis legitimized by a rheumatologist before I get psych diagnoses, it will be impossible for me to find a doctor who will look twice at any organic cause of my issues ever again. Especially because I don't have a very elevated ANA and need to find somebody who will try treating me based on mostly self-reported symptoms (you'd think the malar rash would be sufficient, but since I've figured out my triggers for that, I only have two or three bad ones a year, and what are the chances of making it in to a rheumy on one of those pairs of days?).

So.

Um.

Fuck.
commotiocordis: (DS9)
This is Another Whiny Post.


You know what sucks? Invisible disabilities.

I mean obviously, but I was just thinking about what it's going to be like when I have to tell my parents that I lost my scholarship. I'm probably not going to get screamed at, but worse IMO, just disapproving looks and talk about how I should have tried harder and how they can't believe I've squandered this opportunity.

It's such a fucking struggle for me to try to accept the fact that some of my screw-upedness might not always be because I'm not good enough, and that maybe some of it is beyond my control, and them reinforcing the fact that This Wouldn't Have Happened If I'd Just Tried Harder will be seriously not helpful.

Because 99% of me 99% of the time is positive that they're right. And either way, whether I don't try or I can't try, it boils down to the same thing: I'm just not good enough.
commotiocordis: A still image, green on black, of an electrocardiogram readout depicting the heart rhythm asystole. (asystole)

  • Start thinking about what I've got to get done today/tomorrow.

  • Have second panic attack of the morning.

  • Jesus how am I on #2 already I woke up an hour ago.

I wanted to go back to sleep for a little bit (I guess I probably got a decent amount of sleep, but might as well eke out as much as possible on the weekend, yk?), but obvs not happening now without drugs. But I might be okay with that if it stops my chest hurting this much.

The problem is that if I take my sedative things (I'd totally forgotten until a few days ago that that's pm what my migraine pills were), I run into the same reason I couldn't take them all week -- I'm having these panic attacks over fear that I'm out of time/have screwed things up seriously badly/won't be able to perform at the level I need to to make up for my past fucking up, and by taking them, I knock myself out for a few hours and decrease potential time that I should be studying/writing my papers/etc.

FUCK I CAN'T HANDLE THIS.

Idk why I'm using my "requisite monthly suicidal crisis" tag except that it's my new go-to for mental freakouts. We're right around that time, true, but this has been going on for two weeks now. I've literally not been able to fall asleep without a panic attack for two weeks straight, save this past Friday and Saturday when I was able to take meds. This is getting ridiculous.

I mean, as per usual, super high stress about grades and such --> panic attacks and super depression --> not being able to function to go to class/study/write papers/take tests --> bad grades --> super high stress about grades and such . . . .

I'm kind of glad I'm not going home next weekend like I'm supposed to, because I'm pretty sure if I did, I'd end up having some kind of freakout and refuse to come back.

The only thing that's keeping me on the path I'm on right now is inertia. If I actually had the emotional capacity right now to make a reasoned choice about the best thing for my heath and the best thing for not having some kind of psychotic break, I'd be out of here like a shot. I keep saying that I'm done, that I can't do it anymore, but nothing ever changes. I barely pass (though doubtful that's going to happen this time, as I'm in considerably a worse situation scholastically) and just keep on going, and the same stuff happens and things pile up and pile up and get worse and I get crazier and I'm pretty sure there's kind of a ceiling on crazy. Like, eventually I'll stop inching towards crazy and be actually there.


I've sort of meted out that there are vaguely three choices:
  1. I keep going as I am, escalating from depression to panic attacks to, idk, full on crazy, at which point choose options 2 or 3.

  2. I stand up and say "Fine, brain. You fucking win. I am evidently too mentally ill to keep going to school. I'll go be a fry cook or something."

  3. Or I kill myself.
And I'm really really bad at admitting defeat.
commotiocordis: A still image, green on black, of an electrocardiogram readout depicting the heart rhythm asystole. (asystole)
I don't think I've quite wrapped my mind around how my chances for The Only Thing I've Ever Wanted My Entire Life are hovering right around zero.

I'm pretty sure I wouldn't be alive if that were the case.



It's going to be hilarious when I have to take the senior seminar class next year. "What are your post graduate plans if you don't get into medical school?" "Suicide."



Scheduling for next semester made me calculate my GPA and science GPA and that sort of thing and holy shit are those bad. *sigh* Basically, I could maybe go to the Caribbean or something, on a stretch a DO school (which aren't really out of the realm of possibility, I guess, but I've romanticized the MD too much to settle for that, I think), and that's about it. No more "oh, I'll bring my GPA up" or any of that shit, because that's no longer possible.


Pretty much, because I played the game to try and keep this free education by taking too many super hard classes a semester, and dropping things to stay above the GPA limit, and bringing down my GPA by frantically taking classes to meet the required number of hours, and then dropping retaking whatever classes to bring my GPA back up, etc, I've been fucked out of medical school.

Now I'm stuck with no debt, but a degree I can't do anything with and a near-zero chance of getting into a graduate program that doesn't suck, much less actually medical school.





CURSE YOU, BRAIN AFFLICTION I HAVE DECIDED IS MAD COW. WHY MUST YOU RUIN EVERYTHING.
commotiocordis: (XG)
HAHAHAHAHA, and when it rains.

It turns out I'm not going home this weekend because Dad's surgery got postponed because he apparently (for the first time ever even getting a slightly funny result) failed the chemical cardiac stress test.

Right around the same time that my mother failed a mammogram. (Which, you know, significantly less worrying, but she is around that age.)

So tomorrow, instead of surgery, Mom's got to get a spot compression mammogram and Dad's going to a cardiologist to see if he can get cleared; otherwise (and chances are) he's going to have to go on blood thinners (hahahahaha) to prevent throwing a clot (hahahahaha) and then the surgery is postponed indefinitely and they'll have to just go ahead with the chemo first.

I mean, I guess it's super good that they caught whatever (idk, probably just arterial blockage) before he was symptomatic, because his mom had her first stroke at 50 and he's what, like 56 now, but this is just kind of a lot right now.


In kitten news, this means [personal profile] sixgunsound's mom is coming down instead to pick up the kids and take them to get checked out. I guess it's going to be just see if they can hear a murmur and then maybe consider more imaging from there, because it's fucking expensive. I find that I SUPER DO NOT WANT to let them go anywhere without me right now in that bereaved parent sort of way. Also, dear self: if you could manage to not start crying again every 10 minutes, that'd be good. That headache you get from crying is a bitch.
commotiocordis: (butterfly)
AGH and this is an irregular installment in I-generally-only-write-in-here-when-bad-things-happen.

TL;DR -- kitten died; I am le sad. )
commotiocordis: (DS9)
Spoilers (if written vaguely at least at the beginning) for "Lauren", Paget Brewster/Emily Prentiss' last Criminal Minds episode.





I was content to have one last dose of JJ/Emily in this episode. I mean, beyond content, really, as I didn't even know JJ was coming back, so that was a ridiculously pleasant surprise.

I could never have expected it to be this brillllllllliant. Despite all the Emily het (I've been strongly in the Prentiss-is-at-least-bi camp for years), there was so much more than I expected (even without considering that I expected zero) and it was fabulous:
JJ bring brought in as someone who can "shed some light on Emily's past" and all the <3 <3 and then JJ being the point person at the hospital (like a family member would be) and then JJ'S FACE when she was hugging Reid and then being the first person (and longest shot) laying down the rose and my heart was so happy.

AND THEN THE VERY ENDING. I'd called that that was how they were going to play her departure a few episodes back, BUT JJ'S ROLE OH MY GOD. I literally threw both arms up in the air and just said "IS THIS REALLY HAPPENING" over and over again.
.

PLEASE FEMSLASH GODS by which I obviously mean authors MAKE THE MOST OF THIS AWESOME OPPORTUNITY THAT HAS BEEN AFFORDED YOU. I MEAN JESUS, JJ IS THE ONLY PERSON WHO KNOWS EMILY IS ALIVE.

I want
  • Drama and romance and concern and Emily sneakily sending JJ's kid presents even when she can't talk to JJ, just to let her know that she's still alive.

  • Sekrit rendezvous in romantic places (with disguises!) where they plot to finally take down all the bad guys so Emily can stop running all the time,

  • but also talk (news about the team, about ~feelings, etc.) because JJ is the one person who knows pretty much everything

  • except for that Emily was in love with her and pulled away when JJ got pregnant because of le jealousy, which Emily finally reveals because she feels safe seeing as how she's going to run away to another country the next day.

  • Emily not showing up to the next scheduled meeting after that because she's a wimp, and JJ flipping out but not wanting to actively look for her lest it tip people off, so just freaking out in silence

  • Awkwardness when they finally meet up the next time and only business talk until JJ puts her hand over Emily's and the Magic Power of Affection fixes things so we return to our Regularly Scheduled Development of Sexual Tension: Now With Confirmed Reciprocation!

  • A final meeting where there's no time to even acknowledge the sexual tension that's been building up over the past year before turning around and being BAMFs and shooting folk.

  • Them winning and dramatic, post-violence, shaky "it's over" relief kisses.



AND THEN AN AWESOME SEQUEL because this is always what I really want in fics: How do they deal with what comes next, when they go back to "real life"?
  • Emily is pretty much a cat lady; does she remember how to have a relationship that's not for spyage purposes?

  • Contrast between her loving the Doyle kid but not wanting to help raise him (as that would cement her fake relationship with Ian) and her behavior with JJ's kid.

  • Does Em go back to work somewhere?

  • How cool is JJ's job with the fact that she just went AWOL to help Emily shoot bitches?

  • How does Emily deal with the fact that despite all her obvious enemies being gone, she could be exposing JJ and the kid to all kinds of danger because of her past?

  • JJ isn't really a fighter type (IIRC, she wasn't even a field agent for ages); is there fallout from having to help Emily kill bitches? Or does she not really react to it, and is disconcerted because of that?

Basically, part one is mandatory, the sequel is more an excuse to work in the sexing, since part one is plotting itself out pretty PG-13 in my head.

I SO WISH I COULD WRITE THIS but I know I'll get about two pages in and school will pick up and I'll never be able to get back into the swing of it, so I really hope the femslash fandom gestalt sort of picks up on how cool it could be to tack a spy thriller on to the end of this episode and makes it happen.
commotiocordis: (Jack/Ianto)
A rare fun post!

I ship Brittana much more than I ship Klaine on Glee. Which is probably a pretty unpopular opinion. Don't get me wrong, I love Blaine and Kurt and their adorableness and I'm so happy that's happening, but if I had to pick one or the other, it'd definitely be the girls.

Here's why.

  1. We've already done Kurt's big coming out thing. He was wavery about how to tell people, but he was pretty much 100% sure he was gay. And while Brittany is apparently cool just being fluid, I feel like Santana's just not there yet, despite all the ~feelings in "Sexy". I'm not saying she needs to get to the point where she can wave her pansexual flag through the halls in some upcoming episode, but I feel like that's not resolved.


  2. Biphobia. Kurt's nasty comments to Blaine, while probably just him being hurt and lashing out, were never really addressed. I was seriously hoping that they'd take the chance to do that in "Sexy" and actually make Kurt believe what he said, about bisexuality just being a coward's homosexuality, because then Gwyneth could have been like "Umm, no." and schooled them, leading to the promised Brittana discussions. But instead, we have Holly asking if either of the two girls thinks they might be a lesbian (a question which I felt was awkward and weird and unnecessary), and answers with a lot of "I don't know"s and not one mention of the word "bisexual". Having a bisexual character on a TV show where they actually talk about things like this (and then actually talking about things like this) could do a lot. Though I sort of feel like they missed their chance, because nobody wants it to become a public service announcement show. I think they'll have to wait a while before trying again.


  3. (and most importantly) I like to work for my pairings. When it's obvious that a pairing is going to happen (see Booth and Bones, Castle and Beckett, lately Kurt and Blaine), it might be awesome when it does, but it's kinda boring because it's expected. Obviously the particulars of how they get together and what happens, etc., aren't necessarily predictable, but I feel like there's very little that happens in these relationships that is actually a surprise. And when they're spoon-fed to you like that, there's no time to build up the emotional attachment. Klaine is awesome and I love it, but duh that's happening. I've been able to root for Brittana for two seasons now as it happens in the background, and as a result I'm much more emotionally invested in that than the considerably newer and faster-moving Klaine.

commotiocordis: (Telegram)
AGH MY FAMILY AND CARS WTAF.


  • About three weeks ago, got my car inspected and had to have $500 of work done replacing the entire exhaust system. The very next trip, the check engine light came on.


  • Two weeks ago, the gold Camry has to have a whole new water pump; I'm not sure how much that cost, but Google tells me like $300.


  • Last week, Dad traded in my awesome red car (sadface -- I loved that thing -- but he says it was on its way out) plus ~$7000 for a newer, silvery Camry.


  • The middle of this week, my mother slips on the road while it's raining and totals the gold Camry on the way to work. (Not sure if we're even going to try to fix it -- going to be like $5000 of repairs and the car's maybe worth just that much.)


  • This afternoon on my car (by hand, because bonding with my dad by fixing cars ftw): changed oil, replaced oil and air filters, replaced spark plugs and spark plug tube seals and valve cover gasket and everything in that, and basically spent way more time with my head either in the hood or under the engine than I ever wanted. ~$100 plus several hours of our labor, though that's technically free.

  • And it turns out after that giant exhaust system overhaul, suddenly something's wrong with my muffler (natural conclusion from that and the check engine light: whoever "fixed" my car is a moron), and also my transmission is kind of sketch (and this is totally my fault; umm, apparently I didn't check the transmission fluid when I should have and it was pm completely dry), and basically this car should last another 50,000 miles but there's no way.


  • So after all this money and with however many thousand still needing to be put in to the van and my car, now we're down to
    • my car, which is on the opposite side of the state as my parents and needs a muffler repair and possibly a new transmission soon and the check engine light is still on for no apparent reason

    • the smashed gold Camry on the chance they decide to sink $5000 into fixing it (Mom says no, Dad says maybe, so it's probably 30:70 fix it/trash it at this point)

    • the van, which definitely needs its transmission probably entirely rebuilt because it slips terribly, which is going to be another ~$2000

    • and the new Camry, which we're still paying off

    • -- basically my parents have one working car + one that ~sort of works at this point



And so I may have to buy a new car in the next year or so, because the family obviously doesn't have another one to lend me if this one goes out (and there's probably going to come a point soon on it when it's not worth fixing). And because Dad used all his sick days and thus didn't donate any into the sick day pool last year (even though he barely used any from the pool since some bitch who just broke her ankle took an entire month off right before he got diagnosed), he gets docked every day he doesn't work. Which means even before the however much we've put into cars in the past month, we've been kind of anticipating things getting financially sketch, depending on how long Dad's out for chemo and such. Fixing the smashed car will literally wipe out their savings, which isn't cool because we know the health insurance is awesome for radiation, but who knows if it's different for chemo or if they'll refuse to cover a re-biopsy or whatever....

So instead of getting up early tomorrow and going to a car place, I really want to just see if I can figure out what's wrong with my muffler by myself, at least, because I feel like since it's just . . . umm, loose or something? I can maybe just, idk, tighten it back on, and save someodd hundred dollars?


BASICALLY AAAAGH I HAVE NO MONEY MY PARENTS HAVE NO MONEY WE DO NOT NEED THIS RIGHT NOW.
commotiocordis: Green on black, an animated depiction of a normal heart rhythm on an ECG monitor. (Default)
Fic Recs!

I read two really fabulous longfics in a couple of my older fandoms (okay, '09 Sherlock Holmes isn't that old, but it seems its fandom has all been replaced by BBC nowadays, despite the ridiculously adorable filming shots coming out of RDJ and Judesie) yesterday AND THEY WERE BRILLIANT OKAY LET ME SHOW YOU THEM.



Involuntary Commitment is a House fic by Ignaz Wisdom (I feel like she has a different LJ name that I probably would have been able to tell you in '06/'07, but oh well) set in season 3, just after the Tritter arc. NC-17, around 42,000 words.

It's a direct sequel to A Modest Proposal (also NC-17, 55,500 words), wherein in an attempt to stop House from going to jail as a result of the Tritter hullabaloo, House and Wilson get married to invoke spousal privilege. The author says it's not totally required to read the first one first, as all you really need to know beyond the show plot of that season (prescription forging, Tritter's vendetta, etc.) is 1) fake marriage 2) and then they done sex 3) they thought they were off the hook but 4) House agreed to go to rehab anyway. Still, that one's highly recommended as well (it's even been podficced!)

Anyway, her House voice is just immaculate. His biting wit had me gasping with laughter more than once, but his emotional deflections are really layered; the couple of times there are actual breakthroughs in his therapy/relationships/whatever, you really grasp how novel and how massively much progress that is for him. Wilson feeling empty-handed while House is in rehab makes you want to wring your hands along with him; despite their sexing being relatively brand new, their relationship is not, so you get the feeling that he would have been feeling/acting the same way with or without all the steamy gay buttsex they were having (as House takes joy in filling everyone in on their ~relations). Speaking of, look forward to the phone sex scene--it's hilarious.

Also, just like in A Modest Proposal, I found myself sincerely liking her OCs. In the previous, the one that comes to mind is their lawyer, Howard (who makes a token appearance in this fic as well). In Involuntary Commitment, there are two of note: the therapist working with both House and later Wilson, who is able to hold her own with the former while relating to the latter, and a purple-haired young fellow rehab-ite called Sugar Ray who becomes a confederate of House's. House's team (the originals) and Cuddy also make more than a few appearances in the hijinks, often occupying Wilson with cases or dinners or assistance in jailbreaking, minor things like that ;P

The only criticism I could possibly find was more one of formatting--there aren't any warnings in the tags or notes on AO3, and IC contains a vivid description of withdrawal that includes self-injury. The medicine is in general extremely realistic, which (as a medical type person) gives it all the more points in my book, and includes such events as an accidental medication overdose and an adverse reaction, both very serious (I don't know how you'd warn for that, or if you would, but whatever).

Basically, every few paragraphs I had to turn to [personal profile] sixgunsound and say "you seriously have to read these. Are you reading these yet? Read them." And that's pretty much what I'm trying to say here to the internet at large. She may have taken 3 years to tap out this sequel, but it's well worth the wait. BUT YOU DON'T HAVE TO TAKE MY WORD FOR IT
< / too much pbs as a child; sorry I'm broken >
commotiocordis: (RDJude)
We got so much less snow than even the little we were predicted that school hasn't even bothered to post their usual mocking banner on the site that says
"We know some people have school canceled BUT NOT YOU MUAHAHAHAHAHA."

AGH THIS IS TWICE ALREADY THIS YEAR that pretty much every school everywhere is closed while there somehow manages to be a giant weather-hole around mine. (I'll concede that cancellation isn't deserved today, but I almost lost my car to a telephone pole just trying to get out of my neighborhood last time they didn't call it off, so I'm a trifle wary.)

SCHOOL WHY ARE YOU SO MEAN TO US.  Nefarious plot to steal our tuition money and then make us so miserable (and/or dead from driving on roads that apparently the city can't be arsed to plow) that we drop out I SEE WHAT UR DOING HERE.

commotiocordis: Green on black, an animated depiction of a normal heart rhythm on an ECG monitor. (Default)
Blatent crosspost from mah tumblr, because believe it or not I think I actually have more LJ friends than Tumblr followers idek.

AGH

FUCKING HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES

FUCKING REPUBLICANS

I AM SO UPSET RIGHT NOW

LIKE, LITERALLY SHAKING

HOW CAN YOU DO THIS

I KNOW IT’S PROBABLY NOT GOING TO MAKE IT THROUGH THE SENATE BUT JESUS FUCK

I DON’T THINK I HAVE EVER BEEN THIS UPSET ABOUT ANYTHING POLITICAL EVER

THANKS A LOT, GUYS, I’LL JUST KEEP ON DEALING WITH MY CHRONIC ILLNESSES WITH ABSOLUTELY NO SUPPORT WHATSOEVER BECAUSE I’M AFRAID OF THEM BEING COUNTED AS PRE-EXISTING CONDITIONS WHEN I HAVE TO SWITCH OFF OF MY PARENTS’ INSURANCE

I DON’T EVEN HAVE A GIF THAT CAN EXPRESS MY FEELINGS RIGHT NOW BECAUSE MY CHEST HURTS WITH HOW ANGRY SAD BETRAYED I AM

This has been a post.
commotiocordis: (Tony)
Movie Reviews! Part 2: TRON: Legacy

So, then we *did* go see Tron, and holy shit.

And I’d never seen a 3d movie before so this was BIG NEWS.  I’d already decided I liked the movie (the music!  the pretty lights!  how the main guy kinda looks like Jensen Ackles!  the music!) before Olivia Wilde came on (which was, ngl, the entire reason I wanted to see it) but then she did, and I recognized her by her shoulders when she was wearing that mask and maybe that was kinda creepy but idegaf.

So, I’ll sum up my feelings about Olivia Wilde that movie with a quote.

Me, loudly, to the whole theater, when Olivia first started Kicking Some Ass: “fuuuuuuuuuuck. me.”

Okay, so thematically it alternated between sketchy metaphor and really heavy handed symbolism (those priesty robes, JEFF BRIDGES?  possibly too much) but it was really cool.  It seemed like something you could watch non-3d and not really miss out on anything, unlike Avatar.  I loved how both the music and the graphics managed to be ultramodern and really 80s at the same time, and I liked Ziggy Stardust Zeus (he who wields the “cree-py gui-tar”), and I really really really love how I’m not sure exactly what happened at the end (I think Quorra was on the disk around his neck and not physically there, sixgunsound maybe thinks she was there, idk). 

And back to the main point of the entire movie, HOW ARE YOU SO AMAZING, OLIVIA WILDE?  Seriously, if I ever try to tell anyone I’m straight (ha) just say her name, because goddamn.  She was so *cute* in this!  “Do you know Jules Verne?  What is he like?!” and the face burrowing into Sam’s jacket at the end alsdjfasldkjfalsdkj

image

Will most likely buy on DVD.  Also, Daft Punk soundtrack?  Get on my mp3 player now, because that’s becoming my life’s background music.

commotiocordis: A still image, green on black, of an electrocardiogram readout depicting the heart rhythm asystole. (asystole)
Movie reviews! Part 1: Green Hornet. This one doesn't come out until mid January, idk why the screening was this early, but that's good because I can give you fair warning.


If someone offers to pay you to go see "Green Hornet", take their money and sit through mocking it, like we did.

Otherwise, unless you’re a male under the age of 15, skip it.

It had its cute moments, but it was trying too hard. No chemistry between any of the leads (so both the romance and the bromance jokes fell on their faces), a main villain who can’t seem to pick an accent, a wooden performance by Commander Adama Edward James Olmos, and it just wasn’t worth seeing. The car was hot, and there were some explosions, and a bunch of crotch hits, and a scene of brawling between Hornet and Kato that was funny for about 15 seconds yet went on for what felt like 5 minutes, and basically if it weren’t for the violence and language (all generic PG-13 style EXCEPT FOR THE BIT WHERE THE GUY GETS SHIT JAMMED IN HIS EYES SO COVER YOUR EYES FOR THE ENTIRE LAST BATTLE SCENE IN THE OFFICES IF YOU ENJOY NOT HAVING NIGHTMARES), I’d exclusively recommend this to the 10-15 age set.

We wanted to just skip out and sneak into Tron instead, but sat through the whole thing to be able to rag on it in its entirety also, the screen showing Tron was right in front of the ticket place so we’d have gotten noticed.

TL;DR: Not horrible enough to walk out of, but don’t ever waste your money. Low-brow comedy that mostly didn’t work.
commotiocordis: (Gwen/Morgana)
In regards to Morgana in Merlin season 3.

TL;DR rant. )


Everybody's spent the entire show keeping secrets from her, from what her own nightmares really mean, to who her real father is, and finally, at the end of s3, to the fact that Gwen is destined to marry Arthur and be queen. I think she's so far detached from reality, thanks to Morgause's Awesome Brainwashing™ and the visions themselves being rather crazifying, that she's managed to miss that she can't really take Gwen's love for granted anymore. It's just been something so constant for her entire life at Camelot that it's beyond the realm of consideration that someone else would have captured Gwen's attention right out from under her (take that shippily or not).

And yet, it's gone.



Begin Super Special Season Ending Battle of Terror and Awesome and Destruction™, but even then, she has to give Gwen one last chance. Despite how she acted, I think Morgana was seriously really (if deludedly) hoping that Gwen would be all "No, Morgie, I'm totes on your side! Best Girlfriends Forever means Best Girlfriends Forever!".

Enter the picture that sums up my head canon for what was the final straw in the Morgana Is Actually Really Evil For Realsies Now game, which inspired this random rant.

commotiocordis: Green on black, an animated depiction of a normal heart rhythm on an ECG monitor. (Default)

  • Wake up at 3am.

  • Play violin viola.

  • Laugh over how EVERYTHING I DO seems to cement my theory that I am actually a dumb Sherlock Holmes.

  • Decide to clean room.

  • Take some trash out and step in cat puke.

  • Get something like 6 loads of laundry ready.

  • Don't judge me, I just wear all the clothes I own and then do huge amounts of laundry like once every few months.

  • Find these grey trousers that used to be my fat pants. Sob over how they're a size 5.

  • Take a load of laundry out to the washer.

  • Step in cat puke.

  • Do the dishes while waiting for the washer to fill up.

  • Put in clothes.

  • Finish cleaning the kitchen.

  • Go back to my room to keep cleaning. Step in cat puke.

  • Take off skirt so it can go in the laundry and put on a pair of jeans instead that are clean because I haven't worn jeans in >2 years.

  • They're a size 11/12.

  • Consider killing self.

  • Seriously, I've been losing weight lately, but apparently I was right when I said it all came from my boobs. What the actual fuck, I'm pretty sure I wore that size when I weighed like 15-20 pounds more than I do atm.

  • "Chances" comes on laptop music shuffle. Decide today is for sobbing over "Vincent and the Doctor" and possibly alcohol.

commotiocordis: Green on black, an animated depiction of a normal heart rhythm on an ECG monitor. (morgana)

Deathly Hallows, you make my semi-annual Bellatrix costume difficult!

The one that looks possible to get recognizably close to is a) definitely from part 2 b) actually Hermione wearing it. Which wouldn't be horrible if it actually was Bellatrix's outfit, except I'm looking through the book and nowhere does JKR explain how Hermione got these clothes.  I can't really believe she nabbed them on the way out of Malfoy Manor or anything (though that would lend credence to my theory about the off-camera non-con in that scene I mean what), which makes them probably Fleur's (at which I LOLOLOLOL), spelled into gothtasticness.

Also, like I said, movie two.  Depending on whether they're cutting this before or after Malfoy Manor (and I keep hearing before), the total time of Bellatrix on screen in movie one is going to be something like 5 minutes max--the opening Death Eater meeting, plus maybe the fight in the air if we even actually get to see faces during that are are all we can possibly see of her in movie one.  Even if I could get a good thing going of an outfit from part 1 from the one promo poster and the one picture from the meeting I can find of her, with her only on screen for five minutes, it's almost preferable to go with the classic OotP dress with the detached sleeves, as that's going to be much more recognizable. 

But on the other hand, I think I'd rather make a DH costume that I can wear both times (and that I know I can make large parts of without having to go buy a new dress, like I would for the OotP outfit) than go backwards. I really really really want pictures of the final battle so I can see what she's wearing then and go for that, but I kind of have the feeling they'll be keeping a lid on those, at the very least until we get closer to part 2's release.

Thoughts?  Offers to borrow hot gothy clothes?  Thrift stores I should check out that have cheap things?  (I only know the DAV down in Springfield, and a bunch more that are not actually thrift stores because they're ridic expensive.)

commotiocordis: Green on black, an animated depiction of a normal heart rhythm on an ECG monitor. (sadMerlin)
Had been putting the cats in my brother's room when I went to bed, but he was asleep, so I decided to leave them out without supervision for the first time.

MISTAKE.

I'd brought my lizards home in a big plastic shoebox-style container because we were flea-bombing the house in Springfield. Cats can apparently get into those.

Found both of them, and Fifteen doesn't look like there's anything particularly wrong with him (but internally, idk). But somebody got a hold of Steve McQueen--minor toothy/clawy-looking abrasions, but there's some kind of prolapsed rectum thing going on now, which suggests he got squeezed.

CHOICES:
1. Wait and put him in this isotonic solution thing the internet suggests and watch. Hope it goes down by itself, but probably he dies anyway from whatever squeezing caused that to happen.
2. Try and sort of reduce it by hand (for which there are no instructions on the internet, fucking backwater herp breeders who don't share their knowledge). Chance actually killing him faster, and he still probably dies anyway from whatever squeezing caused that to happen.
3. Ignore everything and not ever look at the box again to pretend it's not happening.

I really really really want three to actually work.
----------

Continued.

Tried isotonic thing. Tried sort of reducing it by hand. Nothing. He's still moving around and stuff, but called two four animal hospitals that have herp vets only to be told that nobody is in today, fuck.

Also, frugal!me can't stomach taking him to the vet especially if all they'll do is put him down, because that's going to cost a fuckton of money. Even though I'm pretty sure Mom's going to cover it (she's doing all the calling and stuff because I keep crying like I'm PMSing a week and a half early, idefk), I feel guilty.

And I know that trying to fix it is going to be ridiculously expensive, because anesthesia + suture + possibly also needling the bubble and/or cutting his vent open a bit more is definitely considered surgery, no matter how pretty much minor. But, I mean, jfc. If I had a way to knock him out, I'd so give it a try myself, because I've got a reptile surgery textbook, LOL, and I know the theory probably better than a non-herp vet would. I don't have the sutures, though, nor a decent sterilized blade here if I needed to cut his vent open. Could drain the bubble with just a syringe, but I don't have the antibiotics I'd need to give him after to make sure it doesn't turn into peritonitis. This happens all the time to lizards, just not usually from trauma, so any herp vet who's been in business more than two weeks has probably fixed twelve of them.
----------

Continued continued.

So. Pushing 9 hours after I finally found them. Steve's still doing okay, I still haven't slept and keep being inappropriately torn up about this (I mean, jfc, I wasn't this bad when my dog died--but I suppose I just came home and found out he was dead after a day of being sort of sick, rather than this agonizing knowing what's wrong and not being able to fix it for hours and hours on no sleep and a really shitty weekend to begin with), and I've called every recommended herp vet on every list I can find and several animal hospitals just to ask if they had one and nobody's in until Monday morning.

He'll probably make it that long, but by then it'll most likely be too late to fix anything if the bowel is ischemic, so I feel like it's kind of not worth putting him through it. It doesn't look like he's in distress, but how the fuck do you tell with a lizard, you know?

I want to just leave both lizards here and let my parents take care of it, either take him someplace on Monday or just do whatever. More me feeling like a wimp, because I'm 20 years old and can't handle a dying lizard for fuck's sake, and more me feeling guilty but I don't think I can bring just one of them back with me. I'm in that "I'd rather not have any animals if it means I have to go through this again" stage, and the one who's (hopefully--for all I know, she's actually hurt worse and just not showing it) not hurt is the one who's pushing the average lifespan of a gecko anyway.

But even then, I have to walk around the house for the rest of the day today and tomorrow in this same sympathetic agony because he's running around in a box on the table probably in immense pain. I'd almost rather it have a resolution today so maybe I could chill the fuck out, but also very much do not want, because if I just hear about it when I'm back in Springfield, the acute pain is lessened.

I don't understand why I'm being this torn up about it other than it's just been a really really crappy break/week/semester and this is it all finally breaking through. I want to be able to just go to sleep and forget about it all, but minus significant quantities of alcohol (which do not have, as I'm at home), I'm not seeing that happening--it's 12:40pm and I didn't get to sleep at all last night and only got a few hours of sleep the night before (since my room is in the basement and I get woken up every time somebody walks through the front room, which means definitely by 6am when people start getting ready for school) and yet the only symptom of "tired" I have is this ridiculous weepyness.
commotiocordis: Green on black, an animated depiction of a normal heart rhythm on an ECG monitor. (Seven baby)
Fall break = \o/

I get home, and mom's like "hey, got a copy of dad's pet scan this time, want to see it?" I'm like "sweeeet, medical geekage." = \o/

Giant white spot in the middle of one of his lungs that wasn't there 8 months ago = /°\


Also, from the third hand info I'm getting, the guy is trying to tell them that it's totally different cancer. I'm like ya rly? Suuuuuure. Previously generally healthy (minus diabetes, but very well controlled) guy in his 50s with randomly multiple simultaneous cancers? Hahaha, no. I mean, obvs possible, but give me a fucking break. You just don't want it to count as a metastasis because then the surgeon's numbers go down (dude boasts this like high-80% cure rate after just surgery and mid-90% cure rate after surgery and radiation, and dad having had both and it still spreading means both would drop). Pics of the matching tumor genomic sequences or it didn't happen, bitch. Also, stfu "oh, it looks like it was the shadow we saw last time". I looked at the pet scan last time and there was no lung spot, so it obviously hadn't angiogenesised up, and if you thought there was a mass on the CT, why the motherfuck didn't you check?

If there's anything in the entire world that could possibly make me want to become a doctor more than I already do, it's this unending incompetence that I keep seeing with dad's health, all the way back to when he first started going to his GP for sore throats and swollen lymph nodes and stuff and just kept walking away with antibiotics when at the very least, the last time or two he went, you could have seen the tumor in his throat with a fucking tongue depressor.
commotiocordis: Green on black, an animated depiction of a normal heart rhythm on an ECG monitor. (Criminal Minds)
So, somebody prompted The reason why Mycroft and Sherlock don't get along is because, when he was desperate to quit cocaine/heroin (not sure what's the usual canon drug here) and asked Mycroft for help, all his brother did was lock him in a clinic and not bother to visit or call for months, even though Sherlock often tried to reach him on the kinkmeme.

I was going to comment with this, just noting how interested I was in her prompt because my head!canon is almost the exact opposite, but then it got long and idk if it even makes sense because it's almost past 5am, and whatever I can get between now and 7:30 is all I anticipate sleeping in the next 30 hours so I can't be arsed to look at it any more to make it more clear.


But basically, this is an idea I've had for a really long time, and something I'd like to write into a stand-alone fic/work into an existing in-progress fic/something at some point for BBC Sherlock, because it all really makes sense to me to explain the Mycroft/Sherlock feud and how lopsided it is (Mycroft is genuinely concerned; Sherlock won't even text him back). Sure, it might all be explained away by the sheer resentment you would expect with a brain-driven younger sibling whose older brother is better at people, and being accepted into society, and not becoming addicted to things like a common junkie, and even brainwork (which would be the real insult), but my head!canon likes to combine Sherlock getting clean-but-not-really with their rocky relationship.

Sometimes, you may really need help, and once you're past whatever, you don't really want to go back to the way things were, but being forced into treatment/getting help/whatever when you weren't ready, when it wasn't your decision can cause this resentment to build up for the person who did the forcing. It's fed by the misery/withdrawal/horribleness of the early days of treatment because you're sure things wouldn't be this bad if you were still in the throes of it, and it's allowed to fester over weeks of forced therapy and being treated like a child or a convict with rules and restrictions and no trust whatsoever. You come out of the other side healthier and possibly happier and on top of everything you owe that person your life because they saved it when you didn't want to be saved, and even though you may acknowledge that you're better off now, you fixate on how it should have been your choice and sometimes there's no salvaging that relationship.

Sherlock knew he needed to get clean if only for the work, because otherwise he wouldn't be able to take on police cases. Once he was, he stayed clean (even though his flat isn't--it's both a test of his own willpower and because to be honest, he doesn't really care that much if he goes back under), but he could have done it himself. Now, instead of getting to prove that to himself, he's spent ages in withdrawal and being treated like a child and patronized by two-bit counselors with a certificate from a semester of night school, and it's all Mycroft's fault.

For someone like Sherlock whose self-determinacy is such an important facet of his character, being forced into rehab (and we know God Mycroft could do it, not by brotherly influence but by tugging on the appropriate strings) would be an egregious affront to his person. I don't think they've ever had a particularly great relationship because of aforementioned general resentment from the "Mycroft is smarter/better/more social/nicer/not a junkie/did I mention smarter" type of thing, but Mycroft forcing Sherlock into rehab was the straw that broke the camel's back. They may couch it in cute sibling-ness like "arch-enemy" and little passive-aggressive things like not returning phone calls, and they're not bursting out into shouting fits because they've had a few years to calm down, but my head!canon has much of the underlying resentment (especially considering the shape of the dynamic we saw, with Mycroft's sincere caring about his brother and Sherlock rebuffing it) coming from this type of situation.

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