If you want to maintain and enhance eye health, consult the best Eye Doctor in Punjab. They provide complete guidance regarding eye health so you can improve your eye health. For example, an eye doctor finds the root causes of weak eye health. They provide the treatment and follow the procedure according to instructions. If you are wearing vision glasses, you must check your eyes timely with an expert doctor. If you want to manage your eye health, you should eat a healthy diet with a rich amount of nutrients. It helps to improve your eye health. When you go outside, you wear glasses to protect your eyes from environmental exposure. Wash your eyes with cold water in the morning and evening, change your lifestyle, and it helps to improve your eye health. If you want to adopt eye surgical treatment, contact Mitra Eye and Laser Lasik Hospital. Best Eye Doctor in Punjab | Mitra Eye & Laser Lasik Hospital Address: Mitra Eye & Laser Lasik Hospital, New, adj. RBL Bank, Patel Nagar, Phagwara, Punjab 144401 Contact: 09988833379 Website: https://punjablasik.com/ Map: https://goo.gl/maps/r8sg9Mq85ZLbe52r8

Ayurveda is a system of medicines with historical roots native to India. Ayurveda has been very prevalent for many past years. Ayurveda is also familiar as the ancient healing system. Ayurveda aims to develop good health and it is helpful in managing a range of health concerns by maintaining a perfect balance between body, mind, and spirit. Ayurveda believes in preventing illness rather than treating them. Why is Ayurveda the best medical system? *Treat the root cause of the disease *Treat mild and chronic diseases *Cost-effective treatment *No side effects There are various reasons to choose Ayurveda. Consult an Ayurvedic Doctor Ludhiana at Sanjivani Ayurvedshala for comprehensive Ayurvedic treatment. They provide you with exceptional care and help to achieve optimal health and well being. Dr Vatsyayan's Sanjivani Ayurvedshala Clinic Address – Dr. Vatsyayan's, Sanjivani Ayurvedshala Clinic, Main Gate, Near Rose Garden, Civil Lines, Ludhiana, Punjab 141001 Contact No – +919872933112 Website: https://www.sanjivaniayurvedshala.com/ Map: https://goo.gl/maps/AzjnCyi7NdnFDDtC7

“Here comes the sleepy head.” Some of the students giggled… But, I didn't care. I was used to it for a long time. Well, I was nicknamed “The Sleepy Head” in school since my childhood. That was not a lie since I would always doze off in my classes. Dozing off everywhere was a normal thing in my life. No matter how much I tried, I couldn't stop it. I tried sleeping early, waking up early, having power naps in the daytime, and so many things. But none of them would make any sense. Habitually, I knew I would fall asleep in almost every class except the ones we participated in super actively like doing some papers or group activities. But, it was not something to be happy or enjoy… IT WAS REAL DEPRESSION!!!!!!!!!!! I was very much frustrated in my life because of my condition. Later when I grew up, I searched about it on google and found out that my symptoms exactly matched the disease called “Narcolepsy”. But, a lot of people did not believe that excessive sleeping was a DISEASE!!!!!!!! Most of them told me that I was not attentive in classes or I was staying up too late. BUT, I knew from my experience that no matter how much I slept, it would not make any difference. My life was depressing. Inside, I was all torn up. I cried for hours and hours being unable to cope with it. WHY I WAS THIS UNLUCKY????? FROM ALL THE PEOPLE IN THE WORLD, 1 IN 2000, WHY WOULD I GET THIS DISEASE?????? I wanted to be normal. I wanted to study till late at night like my friends... I wanted to sleep less during exam days to cover up my syllabus. But, I had to sleep, no matter how much was left to study… Also, mental stress would make my symptoms worse which made me sleepier when an exam was nearer. One day, I decided that I needed to change my life. I needed to rise from the ashes and face all the challenges like a phoenix bird. I found some youtube channels about narcolepsy. There were a lot of stories about people in the world who had the same condition as mine. It gave me a lot of confidence and made me believe that I was not alone. Some of them had worse experiences than mine. So I held up my nerve. I wanted to show them that I was not down. "HATERS" were my best motivation. So, I studied hard. My condition kept bothering me more and more. But, I didn't care. I had only one dream MY LIFETIME DREAM!!!!!!!!!! It was to become a DOCTOR. IT WAS STRONGER THAN NARCOLEPSY. I found various strategies myself to cope with it. Somehow I managed to study well and become a topper in my class. I passed my O/L s and A/L s with flying colours… Then I entered the best medical faculty in the country... There, I got to know more about my disease. Since I was independent, I went to a specialist myself and explained her about my condition. She immediately diagnosed my condition and gave me some medicine… I am still using them and I am happy to say that my condition is getting better now!!!!!!!!!!! Ah, I forgot to say, A few months ago, I graduated from university and got my appointment as a doctor….. CURRENTLY, I AM WORKING HAPPILY IN MY DREAM OCCUPATION…….. :) :) :) THANKS A LOT FOR READING MY STORY

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It was September 15th midnight when I started having a severe toothache. I couldn't sleep a wink that night and waited for morning to get an appointment with my dentist. I took an appointment for the next day. After all the formalities of COVID-19 tests the receptionist let me inside the clinic. “Looks like you need a root canal.” My dentist said with real concern and asked me to come the next day for the procedure. I was left with no choice other than going for the procedure because my tooth ache was unbearable. Unfortunately, in all this back and forth to the dentist's office somewhere I contracted COVID-19. Even though I didn't have any underlying health issues, my health condition became very critical because of COVID-19. I was admitted to the hospital. My breathing was very difficult and I was put on a ventilator. At home I had my husband and two young children who were too small to take care of themselves. But I was in such a critical condition that my kids well being was of little concern to me. All I could think about was to get a sniff of air in my lungs. My chest was burning and the roof of my mouth was on fire from struggling to inhale air. After the doctors intubated me, breathing became a little easier but I still had too much pain in my chest and stomach. My legs were sore and I had severe pain in my neck and shoulder. I was bedridden with a feeding and breathing tube inserted down my throat all the time. My husband was not allowed to visit and so were my children. Right next to my bed were two other beds occupied with mother and daughter suffering from COVID-19. My own pain was unbearable, but when I saw the trauma and pain that the mother and daughter were going through, I couldn't complain. Mother was around eighty-five years old and her daughter was twenty-five. No other family member was allowed but I was a bit happy that the old mother had someone by her bedside. Just the thought that your loved one is by your side when you are going through a miserable health problem is a big relief in itself. I, on the other hand, was lying on my bed and struggling for my life and the air felt so desperate to have a family member by my side. This trauma had made me believe in the strong will power of our survival and existence and above all the faith in health care workers. The nurse in our ward was a god-sent angel. It's because of her that I came back home to my husband and children after recovery. When I had lost all hope and was struggling for life and air, nurse Jenna held my hand, giving me strength to awaken my inner desire for survival. My sugar level went so low to a point that my whole body was convulsing, I was trying to take a mouthful gulp of air but it wouldn't make it to my lungs. I wanted to get all the tubes out from my body and scream for help, but sometimes desperation just vanishes in the cry of others' misery. Within a week the elderly mom couldn't take it anymore. She passed away leaving her daughter alone. I could see the pain of loss in her daughter's eyes. The numbness in the eyes of the daughter was palpable. At that moment she won't let go off her dead mother's hand. I felt so sorry; at the same time life looked so meaningless to me. Why do we have children; why do we raise them; why do we love our parents with all our hearts? I couldn't get answers to any of these questions. I was lost in the pain, agony, and misery of that daughter. Only one thing I was sure of was that I will have to live. At that time, the only thought that crossed my mind was the faces of my both daughters. What if I will die? My daughters can't take this shock; they are too small to understand any of this. For A few hours, when I was struggling for a whiff of air, I just wanted to die. I did not want to end my life struggling for air, with my lungs burning and my heart sinking. Momentarily I had already lost my life, but the sight of that grieving daughter brought me to my senses. I had the greatest desire to fight off COVID and survive. If not for myself then for my daughters. Nothing is more important to a child than her mother by her side in good and bad, low and high. For the next couple of days, I tried to fight all my negativity with every ounce of energy I had left in my body. I made a promise to myself to return to my daughters who are constantly waiting and praying for me. The nurses and health care workers were constantly working and wearing themselves out— the selfless act of humanity was right there in front of my eyes. All the sick patients who had not one family member by their bedside were loved equally by these angels in the form of nurses and doctors. I recovered enough and tested negative to go back home to unite with my family. My spirit is high and I am full of gratitude towards every single person who is serving in the health care sector. We can't thank them enough.

The gawsy gentleman wore a Saville Row suit, brilliantly polished black patent leather shoes and carried a slender cane, more for effect than necessity. He grimaced. He was caught in entirely the wrong attire to blend into the splore of noisy reveling dock workers weaving their unsteady way down to the harbor where they intended to build a bonfire to celebrate mid summer's eve. Here in certain area's of the Scottish coast, the old Celtic rites still continued to override the newer Catholic traditions. He sighed, it might have been the 20th century, but this group of stevedores was no better than any other mob of rioting celebrants for centuries past. Disheveled in appearance they followed the same routine of the last ten years. There had already been some minor skirmishes between the partiers. Several of them had lost their distinctive caps and considering the strength of the crews who loaded the ships, he wondered how many would end up in his emergency room before morning. Observing more closely, he saw torn shirts, and holes in the knees of their jeans. There was a whole catalogue of black and blue bruising from falls, and in some cases unnoticed bleeding because they were too soused to understand they were injured. Those were minor. He expected one or more would fall from the pier, some onto the beach where the usual broken bones would challenge his orthopedics team. The less lucky might fall into the water, he'd had one each year, who'd nearly drowned. He pulled out his phone to talk to his charge nurse in the emergency clinic. He knew his patient records would become another essay exploring the ravages of too much drink, and a lack of crowd control. Once again the town's constabulary had chosen to withdraw and let the union men have control of the streets. It only happened twice a year, now and on New Year's Eve, but some of his patients would barely recover from this drunken debauchery before the next big splore exploded through the town's streets. The town's police chief had told him more than once, these uncontrolled celebrations were the price they paid for good help on the docks. They would continue no matter what his opinion, but still he knew there had to be a better way. Again he sighed, having ordered his staff at the hospital to gear up for the injured. They wouldn't come in till the wee hours of the morning, when the constables finally ventured out of their station house to clean up the mess of unconscious bodies scattered on the beach. He ran down his own routine checklist, hoping he had the supplies right. Disinfectants, tools to remove splinters from the most embarrassing places, sutures to close the worst of the gashes they'd inflict on themselves; those were the most critical. He whistled tunelessly, spinning his cane as he strode toward the small hospital. At least they wouldn't have to go far to get patched up.

There is a doctor's place next door from my place. Although for many of us, this time of pandemic is just quarantine life time, but for a doctor and other workers it is a time of hardship. It was during the first on set of virus , when hospitals were not even taking in any patients, and many hospital emergency services were closed. This doctor didn't even think for himself, and the virus infection risk he could be exposed to and started treating patients from his own clinic. He was rendering emergency services all for free. Several lives were saved at such time. Sitting in my room, I would see him leave everyday in his car. He could have easily remained at his home with his family in quarantine life, but he did his part like a duty. Although he did such great work, people in the neighborhood were kind of ignoring him. People were mostly scared from chances of getting infected from a potential person but they would not even look at him or wave to him. I could see he felt disheartened by that. When I went to talk to him about neighbors being so rude to him and ignoring him. He would laughingly say,” These people they aren't bad, they are afraid, that's it. They are trying to protect themselves and their family and that is the right thing. Don't worry for me.” It was then few days later, he was tested corona positive. He had mild symptoms and recovered after two weeks. After recovery, without giving a second thought he again got up for his task(Even though we tried to talk him out of it). He said that he knew his life could be at stake from the very day he decided to become a doctor. Then, a month later he died. The reason of death being severe respiratory illness which might have been caused by corona virus reinfection from other source or maybe we don't know. But this person died a hero. Such a selfless act. The bravery he showed during such period of crisis and terror, he is a character to salute. He touched many people's lives. He is now the inspiration for me and the people from the community. Being inspired by his acts, we built a place for isolation and quarantine in our community with the permission from the state. Since, many people are living in rented houses, the place served many people for isolation purpose. During this passive time, the single work we did gave us satisfaction to contribute. Even around each of us there are people doing the good work day and night. We need to admire and learn from them. Although, as an individual we can't stop this pandemic but we can fight it. It could be by directly helping infected ones, or even a few good words to them can boost their morale. So, this pandemic stay home be safe , but better than that build the safety by your deeds. Don't just do nothing...

I remember like it was yesterday. It was a peaceful snowy evening. I've always liked snow. It makes everything more beautiful. It's like a natural make up, makes the city more beautiful ,simple and elegant. I was enjoying my coffee and the view. Everything was in a white dress. The sound of fireplace ,the slowly burning woods.. Everything was peacefull. It was nothing special but enjoyable. I'm a medical doctor, an ob/gyn resident. So my work day is always full of action and adrenaline. When i come home, i just need some peace and quiet to recharge and be ready for the next day. That evening after enjoying my coffee, i checked the internet like everyone else. Then i saw the videos from China, people were literally lying on the hospital floors. It was horrible. I rushed to show it to my parents. The country i live in, the culture is different. Single women are expected to live with their parents. If we don't do this, our parents feel strongly offended. My dad is 73 years old and my mom is 65; so i was helping them and i liked staying close to them as they age. I know i may sound like Howard from The Big Bang Theory. But i live in Turkey and it isn't like Europe or US. It's like Matrix. Staying with parents until the marriage is the normal in my country. My parents ,like me and like many were shocked seeing the videos. But we didn't think it would change our lives this much.Nobody did, right? I wouldn't imagine the world would shutdown soon. One disease, out of nowhere, a little tiny virus changed us all. I thought the virus would stay in China and felt sad for them. Well it didn't. It travelled to Europe. We saw what happened in Italy as well. At that point we knew it would come to us too. At first as an obstetrics resident, i thought i wouldn't see many covid patients. Our patients were mainly pregnant ladies and newborns ;so society and our hospital tried to protect them. Then of course as the disease spread no speciality left. Every resident from the hospital were taken to covid units. My new workplace was covid unit in the emergency room. When i learned this, i was super worried about my parents. Especially my father who was 73 years old and had hypertension. I was terrified i would carry the disease from hospital to home. There was no way i could stay at home. All of a sudden i was homeless. Of course government arranged places to stay for people like me but my lovely friends offered their house to me. So i moved to my friends' house. All of us were working in the hospital so it was like a covid house. I will be forever grateful to them. My parents were worried about me. Because i had cancer in the past. But i didn't tell this to my hospital because i wanted to work. I wanted to help the other healthcare professionals when they need every doctor's help. I had cancer and chemotherapy 6 years ago. It's not like i was newly diagnosed. After 5 years some consider i beat the the disease completely. Nevertheless i'm used to the idea of not living too long. I'm trying to work for people and try to do my best while i'm still around. When i work for people, i feel like my life isn't wasted. Also after 6 years , i dare to hope that i may live longer as well. After moving to my friends' house , i was no longer worried about my parents. It was such a huge relief. I would blame myself forever if i carried the disease to my loved ones and they were in the risk group. In the hospital we were protected with equipment. After going to few shift we got used to it. I was working in the ER covid-19 area. So people would come to us first. Everyone was confused and worried. We were doing what infectious disease told us to do. We learned some chest tomography at least the covid images. We did everything we could do. It was really motivating for us to hear all the cheer people make from homes to the healthcare workers. In the end we were only doing our jobs but being appreciated was touching. Maybe i'm overly dramatic about it but i was really happy to hear that cheers. Maybe being in my country has its cultural differences but i know every healthcare worker worried for their loved ones at home, more than they worried for themselves, like me. I know every healthcare worker felt happy when they heard the cheers in the thank hour. These feelings were beyond cultures. Time passed and now we're slowly normalizing, we turned back to our ob/gyn patients already. But i will never forget that my dear friends opened their house for me. and i will never forget people cheered for us. I will never forget how a little tiny virus could change so many lives. The life we know could change completely in a heartbeat. But we can adapt to new normal fast and we will always receive support from other when we need so i don't afraid of these changes. I hope humanity would never have to live something like that again and we can turn back to our lives when the only thing upset us was the ending of GOT.

Many a time we fail to accept responsibility for our own lives. We forget that we drive ourselves to our own promised land. The most notable winners at some point encountered heartbreaking obstacles before they triumphed. They succeeded simply because they refused to be victims of circumstances. Certainly, nobody glows more than he who let the hurt go. Growing up just like any other normal kid I used to run around whenever I saw aeroplanes in the sky. At school I would say when I grow up I want to be a pilot. Can you imagine the excitement of the Wright brothers on the morning of that first flight? For the only boy in a family of four that would surely make a mother proud. Dreaming, after all, is a form of planning and only execution brings a glimmer of success. Things took a sudden twist in 2009 on the 21st of August when mother was involved in a fatal car accident along Seke road. Her spinal cord was left damaged and there was no hope that she could ever walk again. She was admitted at the Avenues hospital, where her recovery path seemed smooth. Within a few weeks, she was transferred to St Giles where she was to learn how to use a wheelchair. On one particular day, a doctor on night shift mistakenly handled her whilst she was in her sleep and she fell off the bed. Efforts to keep her alive were made but she died on her way to Parirenyatwa. When I received the news I realised that making mom happy was out of reach. The pain I felt made me want to save lives. I wanted to be a different doctor. Peace of mind became a fallen concept for me. I knew that for me to achieve this new found dream I had to work extra hard even if it meant that I had to starve whilst on books. It is during our hardest times that we discover our true taste and desire for success. I refused to conform to the dogmas of the society I lived in. Many a time young children who lose their mothers end up vagabonds. I constantly asked myself certain questions: Who am I around? What are they doing to me? What have they got me reading? What have they got me saying? Where do they have me going? What do they have me thinking? For some time I hated the so called street lingo ‘swagg'. Simply because I had an educational standard I was termed a nerd. I chose not to limit myself because of other limited imagination. I chose to leave a trail where there was no path than to further bare the usual pathway. I conquered my worst fears, failure. I joined medical school in august 2018. Driven by my personal statement: ‘TO BE THE LEAD PROVIDER OF INCLUSIVE QUALITY HEALTH. TO PROVIDE EQUITABLE, QUALITY, INCLUSIVE, RELEVANT AND COMPETENCE DRIVEN HEALTH SERVICES IN OUR BELOVED ZIMBABWE. I do not wish to be the wealthiest but certainly the most educated doctor of my generation with the aim of specializing later on as a neurosurgeon. Too many people wish to cross the fence and be where the grass is clean. I believe I am where I should be, all I need is to just water the grass I am standing on to make it green. The gods are different, the times are different but the underlying precepts of caring for the sick wherever or whoever they may remain the same. Having gone through some of the oath's for doctors I solemnly promised that I would to my best ability to serve humanity caring for the sick, promoting good health and alleviating pain and suffering. I now turn to my calling, promising to preserve its finest traditions, with the reward of long experience in the joy of healing. This promise is made freely and without coercion. Life is what we make it, always has been, always will be. The best way to predict your own future is to create it and live to it. It is under the greatest adversity that there exists the greatest potential for doing well.

Growing up, I never knew I wanted to be a doctor. My talent and passion had always been in writing. On my first day of twelfth grade English class, our first assignment was to write a college essay, list our top colleges, and pick our major. After years of personal struggles and a tumultuous home life, I was at a loss. I never thought college would be on the horizon for me. During this time, I had a discussion with my English teacher about a creative piece I had written for her fiction class. She had told me directly, “I have some good news and some bad news. Writing, English, and a love of fiction is something you will have for the rest of your life. You will never escape it.” It seemed then that the answer was clear: writing would be my career. I began college at City College of New York in the Fall as an English major. From there, I expected it to be a linear path, but as many people say, life doesn't always work out the way you expect it to. Within two months at CCNY, I knew I wasn't being challenged enough, and had fallen into writing solely because I knew it was the one thing I could do well. I wasn't fulfilled in my choice of university or in my studies, so with no plan beyond the knowledge I needed change, I began my transfer applications soon after. The moment I knew I wanted a career in medicine was spent in the pre-surgical unit of Mather Memorial Hospital. While being prepped for a minor procedure, I was placed in a bed next to a woman waiting for an operation on her leg. With nothing but a thin curtain between us, I listened while she had a pre-surgical conversation with the attending anesthesiologist. He went through the normal questions with her, asking about any past medical history, if she had followed pre-surgical instructions, and finally, if she had any questions of her own. It was the next thing she said that changed my life forever: “No, I just want my life back. I want to do the things I used to be able to do. Can you give me my life back?” The anesthesiologist assured her that, yes, they would give her her life back, and it was at that moment I finally knew what I wanted to do. I wanted to be the person who could say that. I wanted to be the person who could give others their lives back. Just as life doesn't always work out linearly, the road to what you want isn't so simple. I transferred to a more academically challenging university and still dealt with the same struggles from before college. My younger siblings still needed help at home, I still needed to deal with my personal battles, and halfway through my academic career, I began helping my partner raise his only daughter, whose mother was not a part of her life. I struggled academically, with the feelings of doubt about my intelligence, and with balancing out all of my familial duties. Just when I felt that maybe I should give up, that maybe this path couldn't be for me, my mother committed suicide. When I received the news, I wish I could say I knew exactly how to feel, whether devastated, confused, or even a sense of relief that her struggle had ended, but I was at a total loss on how to handle the emotions that seemed to change with every passing second. It was usually at this point that I turned to creativity and writing for help, but instead, I turned to medicine. To cope, I suggested to my siblings that we set up a fundraiser for a clinic I had volunteered at in Peru in my mother's honor. Within a week, we had raised enough money for the clinic to receive new lab equipment, and for her sister clinic to renovate a new laboratory. Suddenly, I had my purpose again. In the darkest moment of my life, I found peace in helping others, in the beauty of what science and medicine could do, and in the knowledge that throughout life's challenges, I would have a love of medicine for the rest of my life. I would never escape it. Medicine is numbers, it is facts from a textbook, it is logic, but it also creativity, passion, endurance, and something that I am, and will always be deeply in love with.

Delhi, a city reminiscent of medieval splendour and behind it, a hereditament of a colourful history in abundance.Yet the colour that currently painted it with was a red full of dread.The wailing of the ambulance faded away as the sobbing kith and kin became more audible.I had been in the room for twenty-four minutes, with another to go before I had to put on the PPE yet again, a ten hour vigil lay ahead.My gaze shifted to my version of Pieter Brueghel the Elder's bee painting that I had begun before COVID-19 had incapacitated the train of thoughts as well as had hijacked the proceedings of a normal day at a hospital. I suited up and ascended along the stairs for the lift was being disinfected.There I saw her, clad in bright yellow and eyes partly open.Entering the ICU, I found her being prepared to be ventilated.Frail as the situation was, it was parallel in strenuosity.Something that any emergency physician would have done a thousand times before, yet the delicate nature of human life and the weight it impinged upon the concentrating brain was disparate. Once she attained stability, it was time to attend to the first of the three more emergencies that arrived in the meantime. It was all facile a month back, three physicians ever present and never more than three emergencies in a span of an hour. Soon two of them were down with the virus.And now, as the Sun rose and made its way right above my vertex, there would be a dozen fatalities and as the Moon waned, the figures would triple. To my way of thinking, it seemed the subsidence of an already decrepit medical system.Along with that, the fear component had crippled the effectiveness of action.A quarter of an hour later, when there arrived no fresh entries, I walked over to the woman in yellow.She seemed better, her eyes fighting the bright sunlight and as I drew the curtains down, she scribbled something on a piece of paper.Expecting a routine courtesy of thanks, I read it and was left confounded.I bowed in response, folded the note and carefully placed it in a pouch I carried and diverted my attention to the other invalids. After my routine rounds at the assigned block which had twenty-six critical cases, I made way to get my head down, the length although obscure.A loud knock broke my slumber and at the door was the head nurse, her eyes inundated with quandary.Acquainted with the picture, I took three minutes to get myself wrapped in a ton of plastic and raced ahead.The yellow lady it was, her heart shutting down and the urine bag heavy with red no more just a tinge, the kidneys failing.A Doppler ultrasound would have taken a painful five minutes and the climacteric scenario demanded a quicker display if she were to live.The limited knowledge science had been in possession of so far about the virus, yet a prothrombotic milieu was well known of. The beeping of the monitor clashed with my thoughts, a war between all possible interventions ensued and in half a minute, I knew what to do. There was no use checking the D-Dimer levels.The incessant thought of the three minutes roamed all around my thinking capacity.If I were suited at the time or maybe even a thirty second head start would have been convenient.The dose had to be heavy to restart her crashing heart.The history her kin provided had no mention of any previous instance of bleeding and the risk was ineluctable. A minute later, her heart rate improved and the beeping ceased.A smile saw premature abortion and as I stood still, a paroxysm of shock had sent my sanity into a deluge. She was bleeding.The history was wrong. Time proved a a hoodwinker, for a simple test of twenty-five minutes would have saved her.My attire no more white, as I washed my hands, the mirror of catharsis in front refused to let my pain see the daylight that was breaking in, taking all the visible darkness with it. The concealed darkness and the discernible voices remained deep inside, forming another memory in the tenebrous gorges of the gyri and sulci. This one the deepest. Between sunrise and sunset, with more and more bodies being buried or cremated, cemeteries running out of space, ambulances and cadavers, and as healthcare crumbles, doctors and patients infected alike, hope seems to be on the platter of the disease.As I retire at night, the afflicted relatives, the affrighted healthcare workers and the affectionate eyes of the woman in yellow hover around in circles. The paper read: Dear roll number 88, Yes, how could I forget those eyes, teeming with curiosity for the entire six years.I know it will shatter you, but remember the thesis, the bavardage, discussions and the plan to visit Egypt for our interest in the place.Life was and is short.Dreams many.Death solitary.A multitude of memories to accompany.Take care.Madam yellow as you named. Tears flowed, wrestling each other, the space very little to let out a sigh when the beep sounded again and the peregrination recommenced.

My body says, "No," to have the voice, to say something now when I couldn't say anything before. https://link.medium.com/664bhPALf3

This happened on 2007 when started with the gagues in my ears and i wasnt being goth or rebellious, it was because of my uyger/ tibetan/sherpa dna on my bm's side of my dna. I was just keeping my cultures alive and saying fuck you to the chinese army for being in tibet. Yet my doctor Dr. O at the time said i was stupid and that they needed to be removed. I found this racist and excuse the term -retarded. (Fuck i hate that word) i did not take the fuckers out of my ears instead i keeped gaguing up. But because this i lost respect for doctors and white people who are docs. Boyh doctor and mother finally gave up and i kept me ears the way my ancestor wanted and added some priecings soon that fucking quack had to go into retirement because of this. Now i have my current quack.

Annoyed because I have to see this fucked up quack at a fucked up hospital because my fucked up liver and weight loss. I would not mind if the fucking appointment was not at such an obnoxious time of the day ei the morning. Excuse the biohazardous language but I am annoyed and all of this temps from hepatitis and miteoconrial DNA so I would love to give my BM (birth mother) a shift kick in the ass. Sorry for the yeti tude.

Getting Through Chronic Lyme Disease Having a chronic disease is terrifying. It hurts, not just physically, but emotionally. I've learned that a disease can't define your life. If you let it define who you are, your life will be miserable, and that's all there is to it. But how can we separate a disease with our own identity when a Chronic Disease affects your life so much? I'd like to share my experience so far with Chronic Lyme Disease and we'll learn together. I was seventeen when my health started to get worse. The worry was palpable and constant. My parents and I went to several different doctors, specializing in different things. And every single doctor gave me a dozen scary possibilities, tested me and then told me there was absolutely nothing wrong with me. That I was overreacting. After the fifth doctor to tell me that, I even started to worry if my parents would continue to believe me. I felt like I was broken. I was in severe, debilitating pain and not a single doctor believed me. I had friends ask if I was pregnant and refusing to admit it. I had doctors say I probably had cancer, and a week later tell my mom to get me back to work. Saying I had wasted enough of my parent's money and time trying to get out of work. I'm not joking! I was accused of so many things. But finally, after almost a year of trying, we found out I had Chronic Lyme Disease. When my doctor told me I had Lyme, I actually smiled! I gave a relieved laugh and said, “Oh good, it's not cancer.” She gave me a sorrowful look that I didn't understand then, but do now. The next day my mom and I were calling extended family and friends to tell everyone what was “wrong with me.” And the responses made us realize two things. First off, we knew nothing about Lyme. Second, it was more serious than we thought it was. So, we started researching. And the results were scary. We found out it's chronic. That the symptoms are different for every patient, which means the treatment is different, and there is no easy way to find a treatment that works. That it can be spread to any children I have in the future. That the bacteria inside me can slowly infect and kill each system in my body. After weeks of study we concluded that it was just as scary as cancer. And that this disease could take my life. Now, if you know anything about Lyme you might be thinking we overreacted a bit, since normally Lyme can be cured easily. So, here's a little information. The disease had spread throughout my body so thoroughly that the doctor said it looks like I had contracted it about ten years ago. TEN years of this disease spreading through me. When you first get Lyme Disease, antibiotics will usually kill it. But we didn't know I had Lyme at the time. We didn't go to the doctor, because at first, I didn't show any symptom. They came slowly. Slow enough that I adjusted to each symptom as it came, barely noticing it. So, the bacteria from the Lyme grew, it spread, and then it colonized into one big mass inside me, and started basically, to eat me from the inside. The symptoms did not become severe until I got in a car accident at age seventeen, which jerked, and in a way, activated the Lyme. After learning about the disease, we had to learn how to live with it. And I'll admit, at first, I didn't know how that was going to be possible. All I could think about was everything I could no longer do, and everything that now took so much longer to do then it used to. I was complaining to a friend one day when she gave me some of the most impactful words I have ever heard. She said “The disease isn't who you are. You don't introduce yourself by saying ‘Hi, I'm Katherina, and I have Lyme Disease.' When people ask about you, you tell them your hobbies, your job, what you enjoy doing and who your family is. Eventually Lyme will come up in the conversation, but it's just one, small, aspect of the million things that make you, you.” And she is right. My life does not revolve around a disease. A disease affects every aspect of my life. The difference is small but completely changed my life. Instead of telling people ‘I can't do that', I say, ‘can we do something else instead?' I've found ways to do the things I enjoy even with disease. I've found tricks, diets, medicines, schedule changes, and so much more, that allow me to work full time and go to college full time. I'm still the same person. I'm determined, strong, kind, I still love music and the outdoors. Family is still the most important thing in my life. I still laugh. I still have a beautiful life. Even with, a chronic disease.