Posts by Morgan Cooper34

Thanks. By the way, my blood work came back totally fine.

I’d love to get some input on this:

Back before I even got pregnant, I was seeing protein in my urine (+). Once I hit my third month, my OB/GYN sent me to see a urologist for advice. Both the urologist and the nephrologist told me to stick to a low-sodium diet, cut back on protein intake, check my blood pressure daily, and keep a close eye on any swelling in my eyes, hands, or legs.
Now I’m heading into my eighth month. Normally, I have pretty low blood pressure—usually around 110/60—so even now, it hasn't climbed above 130/70, even when I'm exerting myself. My hands don't swell at all, and my legs only swell occasionally if I’ve been stuck sitting at my desk for a few hours without walking around. Mostly, though, everything seems fine.

Just as a routine check, I mentioned the protein issue to my doctor, and they ordered a 24-hour urine collection. Here are the results:

(I assume these are the blood work findings)
Urea 0.9 (Ref: 1.7-8.3 mmol/L)
Creatinine 74
Total Protein 67
Albumin 36
Globulin 31

Total protein in 24h urine 0.052 (Ref: 0.080-0.149)
dU Protein conc. 0.021 (Ref: 0.050-0.119)

Creatinine clearance 0.78 (Ref: 1.0-2.8)
dU Creatinine conc 2010 (Ref: 7000-25000)

Diuresis 2490 (Ref: 1000-2000)

Are these numbers normal for someone following the specific diet I was prescribed? I have to wait a few days for my doctor to actually review them, but I have to admit, seeing these low values is making me a bit uneasy.

Thanks in advance.

Edit: Just one more thing. Throughout the day, I drink at least 2 liters of water, about half a liter of tea (chamomile or cranberry—I've been dealing with a cold for the last couple of months), plus a glass or two of lemonade or fresh juice. So, I'm hitting at least 3 liters of fluid a day. Could that be messing with the results?

My uncle went through quite a phase with a string of supermodels back in his younger days, but eventually, he settled down and married this incredibly kind, curvy woman.😍 I know it sent shockwaves through the whole family at the time—given his track record, everyone was blindsided—but he actually owned up to it. He admitted he was just plain exhausted by nothing but pretty faces and empty heads. As he put it back then, he traded in that flashy Italian flair for some solid German engineering. 😁

I am honestly losing my mind with people constantly recounting their long, agonizing, traumatic, and complicated labor stories. I’m only eight weeks along.
I actually had to cut off a coworker the other day—"Look, I'm sorry, but I really don't want to hear the gory details of your delivery. Sorry, but I just can't listen to this."
She took offense. 😢

And don't even get me started on the superstitions. "Don't step over those power cords, or the umbilical cord will wrap around the baby's neck" 😢 and all that nonsense.

crimsonmoose3 said:I'm not sure if this is the right thread for this. If the moderators think it belongs elsewhere, feel free to move it.

I need some perspective here. My brother is 30, but mentally he’s stuck at 13, if not older. According to his diagnosis, he’s autistic, has an intellectual disability, and is deaf-mute. It’s all due to a genetic mutation he was born with. When we were kids, we actually got along, despite the usual sibling bickering. Once I hit high school, his condition didn't bother me as much; I had grown used to his behavior over the years—the constant bragging that he was better than me, the teasing, and things like that. We still hung out and played together. But after high school, during a long stretch when I was unemployed, things shifted. He became exhausting to be around, and physical altercations started happening frequently. Most of them were triggered by me, because he would never just attack someone out of nowhere unless he felt he was defending himself.
Once I finally landed a job, I moved into my own room so I wouldn't have to share space with him anymore. His habits are impossible—he'll stay up until 1:00 AM glued to his computer while I have to be up at 5:00 AM for work. Over the years, I've drifted away from him emotionally. It is draining to listen to his daily obsessions with bodily fluids and filth, or his constant talk about women, followed by him spiraling when he develops a crush only to have the girl move away or get pregnant. One time, he just snapped, and it nearly ended in a tragedy within our family; he’s been on medication for years since then. Now, it’s the same routine every day, and he's getting lazier. He won't even take a plate to the sink; he just leaves it there. He's messy, to say the least. I eventually got into huge arguments with my parents regarding how he was being raised, and eventually, I just gave up.

As time goes on, I can't help but feel that my brother will simply become a lifelong burden. My parents want me to be the one to look after him, even though my only opinion is that he should be placed in a specialized care facility. They lose their minds when I suggest that, so I don't bring it up anymore. But now, as I start planning a serious life for myself, I realize that if the time comes when I have to introduce my partner to my parents or to her personally, I just won't feel "comfortable." To be honest, I feel embarrassed by how he behaves in public, at the dinner table, and everything else. The only thing I don't feel ashamed of is his obsession with hygiene, which is equally intense.

I don't hang out with him anymore. We don't communicate—well, he doesn't speak, he uses sign language—and I don't really "experience" him as a person anymore. There is just coldness. I find myself thinking that if he ever had to live with us, he would be a constant weight on my shoulders; I can already imagine the chaos and the stress. Besides, he can't be left home alone without supervision for a single day. And given my current work situation, it seems like a professional facility is the only real option.

My parents have always prioritized him over me, giving him special treatment and putting up with everything, naturally. So, should I feel guilty for simply wanting him to be in a facility where he can actually receive proper care? When I ask others about this, plenty of "smart" people judge me, asking how I could do such a thing or why I won't step up to care for him. None of them actually know what it's like to live with someone like him...

First off, that part really stung when I read it. Honestly? I suspect they’re more tethered to him because of his struggles with self-care and social skills. He’s the one who actually needs them, whereas you’ve managed to hold your own and build a functional life. Have you actually sat them down to talk about this?

Second thing—listen to me: nobody, not even your own parents, has the right to demand you sacrifice your entire life to look after your brother. On the flip side, I think you're stressing too much about whether he’ll become a burden to you or your future family. Nobody has a crystal ball; we don't know what tomorrow holds.

How old are your parents, and how is their health holding up?

If the price tag for an inheritance is losing your family, I’ll pass. Honestly, I don't need it. Half of my own relatives haven't spoken to one another in years; they just spend their time making each other miserable, filing lawsuits, and dragging one another through the courts. It's been going on for a decade now. All of this—every bitter argument and legal battle—just because of some plot of land and a crumbling house that nobody wants to lift a finger to fix until the property disputes are settled.
Thanks, but no thanks.

My apologies in advance if this topic has already been covered—I’ve spent quite some time scouring these forums, but I haven't come across anything similar.

I’ve dealt with this since I was a child: during the day, my palms and soles feel perfectly normal, but once night falls, they burn up. They get so hot that I often find myself unable to drift off until I’ve practically soaked them in cold water just to find relief. Covering my feet or wearing socks is out of the question; I simply can't sleep that way.

I did mention this to my doctor during a recent visit for something else entirely. His take? He thinks it’s nothing to worry about. In fact, he had the audacity to suggest I should be grateful, considering how many people struggle with actual circulation issues. A bit dismissive, if you ask me.

I’ve been digging through medical sites online and found plenty of people with the exact same sensation, though their diagnoses vary wildly. Some have fibromyalgia (not me, I don't have those symptoms), others have erythromelalgia (doesn't fit my pattern either), then there's Restless Leg Syndrome—though that's hard to pin down since I walk a lot and spend most of my workday sitting at a desk. I suspect it's just standard leg fatigue. Then there's diabetes, but my blood sugar levels are completely normal. As for sweating, it’s not excessive, just typical—enough when I'm working out, anyway.

Has anyone else dealt with this? How did you manage it, and more importantly, what did your doctor actually say?
Thanks in advance.

electricdriver93 said:I wouldn't go so far as to say my parents were bad, though I'll admit they didn't exactly succeed in raising a flawless, perfectly functional brood. 😁

Furthermore, I believe we see it far too often these days—and please, let’s be clear, I am not referring to cases of actual parental abuse—but adult children simply taking advantage of their elderly parents. Honestly, if I hadn't been taken for a ride myself, where would I be today?
Even if they are—and let’s be honest, they almost certainly are, because every parent eventually messes up somewhere along the line—I don't think it's something we should hold against them. In my humble opinion, why on earth should parents be expected to be perfect? Nobody is. So why demand that they be?

I’m with you on this one. There has to be a line where parental responsibility for our lives ends and our own personal accountability begins.

redharbor9 said:That caught my attention... did she give you any more details on what she actually realized?

Look, it’s simple. My mother had a hell of a time admitting her own parents weren't exactly acting in her best interest. Especially when it came to playing house—you know, that desperate attempt to maintain the illusion of a perfect, happy American family. It took her forever to face the truth: they didn't love her for who she actually was. They loved this idealized version of her they had built up in their heads. The friction started the second she rebelled, specifically when she walked away from that degree she absolutely hated. That was the breaking point.
My grandmother will never admit she was wrong about anything. Not ever. She just gives you that tired old line: things were different back then. She never once told me she loved me, for instance.😢

Honestly? I think Mom only scratched the surface. You can't just DIY deep psychological healing; therapy isn't something you tackle solo. But hey, she admitted there’s an issue, and she’s still fighting it.

Oh, and she used to keep a journal as part of that whole self-healing process. Eventually, she just tossed it. Said reading it back was too much to handle.

Hah. No parent is ever going to look you in the eye and admit they messed up their kid. They’ll all swear on their lives they were doing what was best. 😍

Look, I’m not a mother myself. But my mom actually managed to break the cycle her own parents handed down to her—and she did it without a single therapist to guide her. (Back in the day, decades ago in the USA, seeing a shrink wasn't exactly the go-to move.) She dealt with a lot of neglect growing up and never really had a voice, which meant when she interacted with people later in life, she could be... let's say, "intense." 🙂🙂

Back in the 80s, when I was just a little thing, she used to devour *A Cry of Fear* by A. Johnson. She tells me that book was what finally clicked for her—helped her understand why she acted the way she did. Sure, she made mistakes while raising me, just like any parent does, but it never spiraled into the kind of dysfunction you see being discussed on this forum. Honestly? I had a pretty good childhood. (Okay, fine, I missed my dad because he worked overseas and was only home for about three months out of the year. Those three months were great, obviously, but his absence left a mark. It's why I tend to seek stability in men and find myself drawn to older guys, but that’s a whole different conversation for another time. 😉)

I’d trade places with them for just twenty-four hours.
Just to wrap my head around where on earth they get that level of unearned confidence when dealing with women. :bogomdan: 😁

I always keep a couple of Band-Aids and a blister pack of ibuprofen tucked away in my purse, just in case a headache decides to ruin my day.

My medicine cabinet at home is a bit of a collection. I’ve got broad-spectrum antibiotics, more ibuprofen 😁, aspirin, some Bacitracin powder, hydrocortisone cream, Neosporin, Canesten powder, Flonidan—since pears make me break out in hives—Lactogyn, and Gastal. It’s not an overwhelming amount, really. 😬

Then there’s the practical stuff: sterile gauze, bandages, and plenty of Band-Aids.

As for those old-school "natural" remedies, I keep a few bottles of homemade herbal tonics on hand 🙂 😬 along with honey, St. John's Wort oil, lily oil, hazelnut oil (essential for my acid reflux issues), and about three tons of various dried herbs.

briskrider7 said:It is quite difficult for me to even read this—I spent years navigating a very similar situation myself (though, in my case, it wasn't my grandmother getting married)—but looking back twenty years, she was essentially living inside a horror movie. She would constantly claim people were poisoning her, or that a neighbor was sneaking through the ceiling at night to prick her with needles and steal her blood... she even called the police at 4:00 AM over things like that. The truth is, there is simply no way to reason with someone in that state. They live within that reality; it is their entire world. Any attempt to "talk sense" into them is futile and usually ends poorly. Imagine if someone tried to force you to believe something that had absolutely no connection to your actual life—that is how they feel. It is their absolute truth.
Help?
I remember calling emergency services around 1:00 AM for an entirely different issue—heart palpitations and high blood pressure—and the dispatcher asked me how old my grandmother was. I told her she was 82 at the time, and they just didn't come. They call it "triage." In my experience, triage felt like a way to deny help to the elderly. Because she was too old, they decided she wasn't worth the trip or the medication. When I finally drove her to the Mayo Clinic myself, the attending physician actually told me that next time I should just call a taxi, because the ambulance won't come for seniors 😢.
Psychiatric wards are a nightmare. Oh, yes, we went through all of that too. But it happened because my grandmother left the gas running, which could have blown up the entire building... so she had to be admitted. They gave her medications—heavy sedatives and God knows what else—that left her completely limp. Every single muscle failed. She couldn't move, ended up in diapers, couldn't eat or drink, couldn't even hold her mouth shut; she was just constant drool. I had to find an urgent way to save her from that. My employer—my boss, specifically—wasn't particularly sympathetic to the situation, so the whole ordeal was pure agony. I couldn't just walk out of work; if I did, there would be drama and resentment... and so on. And she only had me.
Moving forward—most assisted living facilities don't accept patients with psychotic symptoms. If they do, it is significantly more expensive... but I eventually found one where she actually recovered. She started eating again, stopped needing diapers, and even began communicating a little. She made a friend, and those episodes of terrifying delusions seemed to thin out—though whether she was hiding them or they truly subsided, I honestly don't know. No one can truly know what goes on inside their heads. But I wanted to mention this because I used to think nursing homes were a catastrophe. I thought they were a living misery and a final destination. But there are genuinely good ones out there. Yes, they are pricey. But they are worth every penny. She received her heart and blood pressure medication regularly, which she used to forget to take; everything was kept clean and laundered; she had nutritious meals; she had doctors visiting her; she even had a hairdresser and a young nurse who would do her nails and was just so, so kind... I used to do all of that myself, so I was genuinely surprised when I walked in one day and saw that young nurse pampering my grandmother—and she was actually enjoying it 🙂....
Unfortunately, though, a facility was our only option. I was working late every single day and had a child in daycare, then later in school—leaving her home alone... which isn't a solution. She wouldn't allow any home health aides or anyone else into the house except me. That was non-negotiable. It really depends on what a family's resources are—can someone stay with her constantly so she isn't alone? Can the family handle it if things take a turn for the worse? There are incredibly dark phases, and if a patient doesn't tolerate sedatives like mine didn't—or any medication at all—then things get ugly. I don't want to scare anyone. In the end, she wasn't really my grandmother anymore. Sometimes she only resembled her. Everything changed. Drastically. But she lived that way for another 11 years. I ended up on sedatives myself because I couldn't bear the weight of it all; it was horrific, yet I had to remain composed for the sake of my child and my job... after visiting her at the facility, I would sit in my car and just weep, unable to drive myself home. I was the one suffering through all of it. And I couldn't escape into a world where none of this existed. I couldn't bring her back... she left us long before her actual passing. I'm not saying it's the same for everyone, but... if you need to talk, please feel free to send me a private message. It was terrifying—and even now, five years after she passed, it still feels terrifying. I can't forget, and I never will... and the worst part was, she wouldn't cooperate with the doctors, and when she finally had to go, the doctors all turned on me—asking why I waited so long and why I hadn't brought her in sooner. How on earth? By force???? Well... there is no other way but to survive it alongside them. Some people are stronger, less emotional, perhaps more rational—so they handle it better. Others will carry it with them for the rest of their lives (just like I am...😢)
Good luck out there. Make sure you arm yourselves with every ounce of love you can muster from within, and pair that with all the patience you can possibly find... and please, don't leave her standing alone. That could get dangerous.

This is sickening. I am honestly speechless.😢
It was a similar story with my grandfather. He passed away at 78, having battled colon cancer. But the issue was the same: the hospital refused to keep him admitted. It was always that classic, infuriating line: "How are we supposed to help you? I'm not a doctor!" 😠 What happened to the promise that healthcare is for everyone, regardless of age, gender, job, or race? Does it mean once you hit 60, you might as well just give up so you aren't accidentally wasting oxygen, water, food, or medicine? 😠😠😠

Walter Evans3 said:What exactly should we tell her regarding why the doctor showed up, especially since she’s making it clear she has no interest in hearing from him? It seems she is merely speaking to him—listening to his voice without actually seeing him there... she insists they met once sometime in the past, though she won't say when exactly that was.

Who says the doctor actually has to introduce himself as a doctor?
If you bring in a psychiatrist, they’ve seen this movie before. They know how to handle difficult patients. They can spin a narrative on the fly—say, the doctor is just a cousin or the son of the grandmother's fiancé, dropping by to chat about wedding details or some other triviality. Listen, these professionals have dealt with every kind of eccentricity under the sun. They can gain access to the patient through a fabricated story that the rest of the family hasn't thought of. A few targeted questions and observing her behavior will tell them everything they need to know. It all comes down to whether you actually have the stomach to help her.

Walter Evans3 said:Honestly, I don't think we have any imagination left... it isn't that we lack creativity, it's just that this behavior simply isn't normal... she talks about him all day long... he didn't show up for lunch, so now she’s feeling down, yet she’s waiting until 5:00 PM to take him to meet her other daughter, and she wants to bring me along as if I were her grandson... I mean, I really don't know what to make of it... but I suppose it's better if I go with her rather than letting her go alone, if only so I can look out for her. 😳/

I don't believe she's trying to test us, because she keeps talking to "him" even when there isn't anyone else in the house...

As for the medication, I wouldn't know; I don't understand how those things work, and I certainly wouldn't dream of administering anything without a doctor's guidance...

You’ll get used to it.
In the beginning, it’s rough. Her reality and yours just don't align. But honestly, it's much easier to just lean into it—to play along with this fiancé business—than to watch her suffer because you won't validate her experience. To her, it is all very real.
Just support Grandma. Tell her you're happy if she's happy, and that you're fine with her choice. And please, stop trying to force her back into your version of reality. 😢
It reminds me of the hallucinations my grandfather had right before he passed away. We all played along just so he could feel some peace. There was no point in arguing facts with him. 😢
It takes very little effort from your side, but for her, it means everything. 🤷

It isn’t really a crisis if Grandma isn't acting out or getting aggressive. You shouldn't go around trying to force her to accept the reality that this "fiancé" of hers is a figment of her imagination. Honestly? Just lean into the fantasy. Ask her about him. Let her tell you stories. It's better to just play along with her little romantic movie rather than taking the heavy-handed route of drugging her up or shipping her off to a nursing home.

Angela Bailey7 said:silentpilot6, I honestly think you’re just slapping a schizophrenia diagnosis on this girl when she’s probably perfectly healthy and fine. And besides—what about all those other medical issues that can be way more serious than mental health struggles? When you're looking at a woman as potential life partner, shouldn't you first ask for a full medical history of her immediate and extended family to ensure your kids don't inherit some bad genes? Even if you do end up with "bad" genetic material, it doesn't mean a disease will actually manifest.

The real issue here is the prejudice in our society; people act like those with mental illnesses are somehow "lesser." But the truth is, there are probably more people struggling with mental health issues who haven't been officially diagnosed than those who have. And one more thing—how on earth do you think you'll make a "good choice" by picking someone without a diagnosis, only to find out later she was hiding her true nature and turns out to be a malicious, manipulative gold-digger?

According to your logic, people with mental health struggles don't even deserve a partner or to be loved—which is ridiculous, because they likely need support even more than "perfectly healthy" people do. It also seems totally foolish to suggest you should pick a partner based solely on cold logic rather than your heart. My mother always used to say it's better to walk through thorns with the one you love than to build a castle with someone you despise. All this over-analyzing won't do you any good; life is going to happen to you regardless. You think you've mapped everything out, but life always has an unexpected curveball waiting for you. Don't complicate your existence by trying to plan for a future that hasn't happened yet while ignoring the reality of today. And as my mom used to say: if you aim for the rose and miss, you're still gonna hit the dirt...

God, I have to weigh in on this.
Anyone who hasn't been in a relationship with someone struggling with severe mental illness honestly has no clue what we're talking about. It is just constant giving. You pour yourself out until there is nothing left. And the worst part? You feel like you're running in place. There is zero progress. They stay sick, the relationship is anything but harmonious, and you’re just watching your own battery drain to zero. Every single day gets harder. It keeps spiraling until you reach a breaking point where your own survival is at stake—where your basic instinct to just *survive* forces you to walk away.
Very few people can handle that kind of weight. And those who can't? They shouldn't be judged for it.
Not everyone was born to be a healer. 🙄

The phrase "I just can't do it."

Lawrence Wilson35 said:I remember it happened four years ago.
A guy and I were at the coast, getting ready to head home.
I was cleaning the floor of the camper trailer since we had already unloaded everything from the car.
He went inside to check on something.
Then he comes out, and his friend and I are standing there outside.
He starts yelling at me because I cleaned it too early, saying I should have waited, blah blah blah...
And then HE SLAPS ME.
Physically—it didn't even hurt that much.
Psychologically—I felt like the biggest piece of trash in the world, and I will never forget that feeling.😉
That doesn't make me a violent person, nor does it mean I'm insecure or whatever.
But the fact remains: in that moment, he compromised both my integrity and his own.😉😢

The yelling alone was enough to break him. That slap was just the icing on a very ugly cake.

Anyway, Key was mentioning Italians earlier. I know plenty of North American people who treat their kids like they’re invisible ghosts. Just feed them and keep them out of sight so the parents can have some peace.
It’s always the same old routine—"Go outside," "Be quiet," "Don't bother Mom or Dad while they're relaxing."
Reminds me of how we grew up, sitting perfectly still with our grandparents, terrified to make a sound while the nightly news was on. 😉

silentpilot6 said:Take a look at this scenario from one of those parenting books... someone suggests the little girl was just hungry, thirsty, hot, or bored. Maybe she was, maybe she wasn't, but did it occur to anyone that she might have been testing her brother? She could be trying to assert her authority over him, and no amount of asking, "Are you thirsty? Are you hungry? Is it too hot? Could you help me find a book?" would ever work.
Perhaps she’s simply undisciplined and doesn't know how to act appropriately given the situation...

I don't believe children are born inherently good or bad... just like everywhere else, everyone tests boundaries. Kids test their parents' limits, boyfriends test their girlfriends' limits, and so on. Let's go back to my nephew 😁...
"It's 10:00 PM, time for bed."
"No."
"Come on, you have school in the morning."
"No."
"But you're going to be exhausted tomorrow."
"I don't care."
"If you don't go to your room right now, no cartoons for ten days."
"Whatever..."

So, what then? You can either physically lead the kid to bed—which counts as physical discipline—or pick up a wooden spoon and give him a few swats 😁 so he finally understands. Once he does, the next time he's told it's late and time for bed, he'll actually go.

I'd love to hear what those proponents of "alternative methods" would do in this specific situation. If threats of future consequences don't work, and explaining why it's late or why he needs sleep for school doesn't work... what's left to do?
Tell me—I honestly don't know. 🤷

According to the theory held by those who are against any kind of discipline, you should just be more patient. You need to find better arguments, become a master debater, and just keep going until they're fifteen. That is, until they finally gather enough strength to swing at you because you're being "annoying." 🙄

Delmore—that whole situation with your sister is a textbook example of when persuasion and pleading simply fail.
If you had laid a hand on her, it would be labeled "child abuse."
Even dragging her away from the library counts as "violence" because you're forcing your will upon her. 🙄
And if you had just walked out of the library yourself and left her there to roll around and throw a tantrum, you’d be guilty of "psychological abuse."

Either way, it's a lose-lose. 🤷