App/ phone feature idea

Something that calls 911 for you and plays a voice message on the order of "this person is in need of emergency services but is unable to speak. Please send emergency services to [coordinates]. Thank you." (Recently had an incident where I had a temporarily busted microphone in my smartphone and needed to call 911. That was hard on me AND the dispatcher, and it was blindingly apparent she did not have the ability to track my smartphone signal. Also recently had a scare where I might have needed an ambulance without the ability to speak, and I don't have a land line. Scary and uncool!)

The highlights of the deleted draft

-"Sekhmet, the goddess of Not Fucking Around Anymore;"
-A paean to Jonathan Stroud's masterful pacing in the Bartimaeus books. I want to lick them, on the off chance it's contagious;
-A crystallization of the privilege in your life: you realize how the majority of your "really, really sick," time has been spent kind of wishing you would die, and suddenly "really, really sick," moves to fervently hoping you DON'T die (I wasn't going to discuss this, but since I realize it would be vaguebooking in a way that might cause the people who care about me to be worried, something in my neck swelled up and a few of the coughing fits I had started blocking my airways, briefly keeping me from being able to breathe at all; I was, shamefully, so alarmed that I not only sterilized the implements for an emergency trach kit, I had a friendly neighbor ready to call 911 on my behalf if needed, because can't breathe= can't talk= can't productively call emergency services. Following up with my doctor because this shite is ridiculous);
-The post-viral cough on this is getting very, very old, and it was never young. On the plus side, I can confirm the trick where you slather your feet in Vapo-Rub and put thick socks on makes a real positive difference, even though I cannot fathom a reason why it would--- found out by saying "Eh, probably placebo, and all my clean socks are pretty thin" and skipping it one night, only to make a beeline for it three hours in to the night. Have I repeated my thought that bodies can be weird, lately? Because bodies can be weird. Maybe distractive irritation? Hm.

Symptom update

...trickle of blood from my ear. No diminished hearing or anything, but I looked the symptom up on TropeMD, and it said that this means I'm under attack by a psychic enemy of some sort and will be dead/ nigh-permanently possessed by the end of the season; that the hunky, square-jawed leader of my team is secretly in love with me and the fandom will be forever divided as to whether I'm just a milquetoast half-assed excuse for not getting in relationships in seasons four through seven or his One True Love; and that my hair is probably regrettably boring. Only problem is, 1. I am the square-jawed leader of my team, and 2. my hair is AMAZING.

I'm a little sad. I could really rock the dream-sequence/ flashback outfits.

My Patronus is a Dementor

My boggart is my reflection and that is why I like to look at myself trying on silly hats. I'm kind of riddikulus that way.

This is my brain on depression, in case you wonder why people say, "I just want the pain to end..."

Cold update

Cold seems to be hitting the "three days leaving" mark. Last night, my sinuses rattled with the glorious sound of their spontaneuus clearing.

However, all that coughing has burst a blood vessel in my eye. Not my best look, and that counts my eighth-grade mullet and my brief mid-2000's flirtation with frosty pastel lipstick. (I know you were just busting to know. You're welcome!)

Not that it matters, but..

It is medical-official: approximately doubling my caloric intake has had me lose 13 pounds, to date.

My weight matters to me only as a sign that my body is healthy. (It would be kind of awesome to look like Christina Hendricks, but to what end? I have no spouse to gladden or attract.) Nonetheless, carrying this excess weight around for no good reason did feel unhealthy. I feel much better now, and I think this weight loss is actually a sign of growing good health.

Short Subject Tapped Blind

dreamed of you last night.
Writ in fire,
Writ in orange Jell-o like a white-socked nurse,
Writ in a magical watercolor that swooshes away negative space perfectly and leaves a shape like you.
That one tendril heliotroping away from the darkness of your hair, as always,
The corner of your mouth a wry Persian calligraphy.
The picture of you then animated, and looked at me as if to say, "Your move."

Panicked, I wrote this poem.

Food, glorious

I think I'm beginning to get to the end of this misery. My body has gone from, "Eat FOOD? Why are you always coming up with ridiculous makework chores," to, "Food sounds AMAZING I need all of it is that a pin for Snickers salad I hope there's Granny Smith apples in it."

Going out and snagging the makings for meatloaf while I'm picking my revised doctor's note up. Meatloaf sounds amazing.