There was recently a massive scandal blowing up on ST regarding a hospital incident. A doctor basically looked a man in the eye, took his money, and promised to do everything possible, all while knowing full well his wife had already passed away. Of course, the whole thing was swept under the rug instantly. No witnesses, no accountability—nothing. The guy didn't just lose his wife; he got robbed while grieving. It’s gut-wrenching. And honestly, what can you even say about the pricing? There are no set rates. It’s completely arbitrary; depending on which surgeon you want, the price tag shifts wildly. Sure, you find the occasional honest professional who refuses kickbacks, but most eventually cave after playing the "principled" game for a little while. What’s the point of these forums anyway? Everyone already knows how the system works, but nothing ever sticks. Even if someone could prove it, I highly doubt anyone would be brave enough to pick a fight with those institutions. It’s easy for us to be vocal when we don't have skin in the game, but the moment things get real, everyone reaches for their wallets. We all know it, and the doctors taking the bribes know it too. They exploit that reality. Sad, but true. 😢
That was just a slip of the tongue—it was 35.1, not 25.1 (I think it's pretty obvious I misspoke 🙄), though it doesn't really change my point. Honestly, let's drop it; we're just spinning our wheels and cluttering up this thread. Besides, anyone can go out and take their own measurements if they're so concerned about the data.🙂
It doesn't matter if it’s 2 degrees or 1.6, the end result is the same. Read my post again. Seriously. I was sitting at 77.2 degrees yesterday morning. Give me a break. Besides, Casey Palmer5 gave you the right numbers—it goes up by about half a degree, maybe less.
Sure, body temperature naturally runs higher in the evening than it does in the morning, but let’s be realistic here. You’re claiming a two-degree jump? That would mean someone starting at a normal 98.6°F in the morning would be hitting 100.6°F by bedtime. I just took my own temperature while feeling perfectly fine, and get this: at 0:11, I clocked in at 98.1°F. By your logic, that means I was sitting at a cool 94.1°F this morning.
So, now I'm left wondering just how much math we're actually doing here.
Honestly, you’ve got a point there. It’s pretty clear that things have just gone completely sideways in her head. What’s truly absurd is how this whole mess traces back to that disastrous election. Before that, she was supposedly doing just fine—nothing about her suggested she had any obsessive drive in that direction. Word on the street is people actually pressured her into running because she didn't even think it was worth her time. Of course, everyone has an opinion on these things, so I'd take those rumors with a heavy grain of salt.
I didn't actually know the girl personally, but my parents were close friends with her folks. Back in the day—this was long before any of the recent turmoil—she was actually voted Homecoming Queen. That’s when the downward spiral started, this obsessive drive to drop every last pound. Sadly, her parents didn't catch on to what was happening until things had already spiraled out of control. She managed to pull herself back from the brink and return to a semblance of normalcy, but the damage was done. Her skin took such a massive hit that she went from being this stunning girl to... well, to put it bluntly, she became unattractive. She tried every fad diet and extreme treatment imaginable, and it all ended with her jumping from a building. Every time someone brings up Anorexia, that's the face I see. In her case, I don't see any obvious underlying mental illness triggering the Anorexia, other than perhaps some toxic ambition and the misguided belief that being skin and bones is the ultimate standard of beauty.😢
Every once in a while, I start noticing these tiny little broken capillaries popping up on my face. They look like these minute red dots, and when they cluster together, they basically turn into little patches. It’s mostly concentrated on my cheeks and right under my eyes, though they tend to wander to other parts of my face too.
The first time I caught sight of them, I actually panicked and ran straight to an esthetician. She tried to calm me down, telling me I just have sensitive capillaries that burst whenever the weather gets too extreme—like freezing winters or sweltering summers—or if I push myself too hard during a workout, or a thousand other reasons... She prescribed some cream, but honestly? It didn't do much of anything. It was a total wash. Now, they just keep coming back periodically.
What really trips me up is this mental image we all have. We always imagine broken capillaries as these long, thin lines.
So, I’m reading today that more people are getting vaccinated this year than last, and they’re expecting a higher number of flu cases too. It looks like the vaccination craze isn't quite as frantic as it was last year—which, honestly, wouldn't surprise me one bit.
😂 Then again, if Jamie Clark74 didn't exist, someone would have just invented him.😁
As for the stuff regarding Vranjica, there’s some truth to it, but the mortality rates aren't quite that extreme. I have a cousin working over there who happens to be an asthmatic, but honestly, he'll take the photo whenever he feels up to it; he needs the paycheck to keep the family fed. BTW, the salonit was sold to Americans.
I personally never get vaccinated. If I catch the flu, I just deal with it. That’s how being human works. Actually, even the seniors in our family skip the shots. But one year, my mom decided to go for it. She had never even had the flu before, yet she ended up catching the absolute worst strain imaginable. It hit her with such a high fever that she doesn't even remember when the temperature spiked. Since then, none of us have even considered the idea.
Look, my parents are trying to get rid of him too, but for me, it isn't some rational fear. It’s a full-blown phobia. I’m physically incapable of killing him. It’s not like I don't care about him or think he doesn't deserve to live—honestly, I'm with you on that part—but the terror is indescribable. My heart just hammers against my ribs and the panic sets in. There aren't even words for it. 😢 You know what I mean?
Since we're talking about phobias, I really need to recount this ridiculous incident from this past summer. This massive, nasty moth 😱 just flew straight at me. I’m lying there in bed, practically screaming for my mom to come save me. She bursts in, fully armed with a broom 😁 But of course, that damn moth had other plans for me. In a total panic, I lunged off the bed and headed straight for the floor. Instead of actually hunting the moth, my mom ends up wrestling me to stop me from hitting the ground—which was actually my goal, since I was already mid-fall—while she swings the broom in her other hand trying to whack the thing. Then my dad charges into the room to join the fray. Once the chaos finally settled, we were all just rolling on the floor laughing. It's hard to put into words how absurd it was. That image of her pinning me down with one hand while swinging a broom at a moth with the other still makes me laugh, even when I'm in a terrible mood. 😂
Moths at night. It’s pure, unadulterated terror. I get this irrational, gut-wrenching panic whenever they flutter into my house. Daytime moths? They're fine. I don't mind them landing on me.
Who exactly are you trying to impersonate? Given your post count and the date you joined, I find it suspicious that you're already talking about Soraya.🙄
Of course, Betty Rivera14, the whole point was just to list the labels people tend to slap on anyone who actually sees a psychiatrist. Though, let’s be honest, calling someone "sick" is really just the polite euphemism we use when we don't want to be overtly insulting.
Just like everyone else here, my only suggestion is to see a psychiatrist. And before you jump to conclusions, I’m not saying you’re "sick" or "crazy" or anything like that. Not by a long shot. You’re dealing with baggage stemming from a rough childhood, just like anyone else deals with the fallout of whatever trauma they went through. As for that aversion you have, it really just comes down to prejudice. But honestly, living in a country like this, I get why you feel that way. Still, you want to feel better, right? You’ve recognized there’s an issue, and a professional is the only one who can actually help. You have to realize those stigmas are only hurting you. Regarding these "public" psychiatrists—it’s a bit of a mixed bag. If you were here in Miami, I could probably give you a list of a few doctors working through the public system who are actually great and just as good as the private ones. I'm sure you can find similar gems in other major US cities too. You know deep down things aren't going to fix themselves. Just take the first step and start looking around. There is zero shame in seeing a psychiatrist, and most of the public doctors aren't bad at all. What more can I say? The sooner you seek help, the better it will be for you. I'm rooting for you to find the strength to push past those old prejudices. 👍
Look, if you need a little consolation prize, here it is. Getting Candida in your ear? That is hands down the absolute worst place for it to show up. Honestly, if you manage to get it on your lips at the same time, just consider yourself incredibly lucky. 😱
Austin Chavez76 said:Chlamydia is a serious STI, and thank God I've never had to deal with it... plus, you really should terminate a pregnancy if you have chlamydia because it puts the baby at risk.
Look, Austin Chavez76, you're right that it's a serious STI, but this idea about terminating a pregnancy? That’s just plain wrong. My brother’s wife dealt with it while she was pregnant. It was a grueling treatment process, sure, but she delivered a perfectly healthy baby. There was never any conversation about ending the pregnancy. And just to be clear, I wasn't implying that *you* were the one who had it.
This past summer, I managed to slice right into the quick while trimming my nails. Before I knew it, the whole area was swollen and angry. Of course, I had no clue what I’d actually done. I rushed over to a podiatrist, and thankfully, it turned out to be just some irritated tissue. Putting on some sneakers afterward actually helped settle things down. It was bleeding and oozing a bit at first, but after some treatment, everything cleared up fine.
As for ingrown nails, I haven't personally dealt with them, but my mother has. Back when she was younger, pointed-toe pumps were everywhere—apparently, there was no other option if you wanted to stay on trend. According to her, wearing those shoes, which her feet clearly weren't built for, led to a nasty ingrown nail. Back then, they didn't just trim it; they pulled the entire nail out, and get this—there was zero anesthesia. To make matters worse, once the new nail finally grew back in, it just dug straight back into the skin.
She says seeing those pointy heels trending again is a total nightmare; they basically cost her a lifetime of discomfort.😁