2022.01.28 19:11 ralama353 How much is this going to cost? The tire is a replacement but I’m worried of the bottom part of the door.
|submitted by ralama353 to hondacivic [link] [comments]|
2022.01.28 19:11 NotRed9282 Should I buy MHW:I or MHR on Steam?
Just to clarify I have played both of these games, with me buying MHR on Switch and playing MHW:I when it was on GamePass.
I've played Monster Hunter for about a year now, first starting with MHW:I, then MHR, then also trying out MHGU. I've decided that I want to get either of the games on Steam, but I want to start out with one for now. When MHW:I was on GamePass, I had played up until the point where you had to fight Kushala Daora, Teostra, and Vaal Hazak as the Urgent Quests. In MHR, I had gotten to the part where you need to fight >!the Allmother submitted by NotRed9282 to MonsterHunter [link] [comments]
2022.01.28 19:11 Realistic_Treacle384 I had a heart transplant. I think something went wrong.
Atrial septal defect. That's the fancy way of saying I was born with a hole in my heart. My Mother often said it was like being born with a sword over my head, ready to drop at any moment. She couldn't have been more right. I've been legally dead fifteen times in my life, four of which were before I could walk. I'm still not sure how I kept coming back? Dumb luck? A guardian angel? Or maybe this is all some twisted karmic punishment. I'd collapse out of the blue, watching darkness creep across my vision, wanting to cry for help, yet unable to speak through choked breaths. This is the one, I'd think. I'm finally going to die. Then I'd wake up and do it all again. And again. And again. And again. You'd think I'd get used to it after some point.
A transplant had never been an option for most of my life. My family could barely put food on the table, let alone a new heart. My only course of treatment was a barrage of prayers, superstitions, and "tricks" my Mother found online. We went to three different churches "to cover all the bases" and had enough lucky pennies to pay off a car. As stupid as it sounds, I guess they must have worked, considering I'm sitting here writing this. Mostly, though, I think they helped my parents to sleep at night.
As for me, sleep has never been easy. When the racket of day-to-day life quieted, and even the crickets went to sleep, I was just left with me and the heartbeat thumping in my ears.
The sound stalked me all through the night, never letting me forget about the time bomb in my chest. Every beat was both a relief and a taunt. One more second to live. One more second to be afraid. I lay there so many nights, thinking about what'd I do if that tiny drumbeat ever stopped. Would I scream for help? Would I be able to make it to the door? Was there anything that I could do at all? Could all I do was wait to die? But the silence never came. It lingered in the corners of my room, never letting me forget just how close it was.
By the grace of God, I managed to survive through high school and then college. Turns out, being close to death all the time is a great motivator for success. I was quite studious as a result, and soon I turned my efforts to a field close to my heart, if you'll forgive the pun. Atrial septal defect definitely has treatments, but none are too reliable or even accessible, especially for someone with my finances. So I set out to fix that. While in Med school, I managed to attach myself to several projects, from organ cloning to medical devices. I became somewhat famous for this reason and, with my work habits, made a pretty good name for myself as a result. This I was fine with, if for no other reason than it gave me a convenient pity card whenever funding threatened to dry up.
Nothing ever came of my efforts, however. No matter what I studied or how hard I worked, I'd still go to bed with my heart pounding in my ears. It wasn't until last year that something finally changed for the better. I was working at Ox Grove Medical Center when I was approached by a Doctor. The name escapes me, but she was apparently some big shot in the field of artificial organ cultivation. Essentially, she tried to find ways to grow organs in a lab which could then be used in transplants. I expected her to invite me to work on the study, but instead she asked me to be a subject. No expenses or unexpected bills. Just like that, I was going to have a new heart.
I'd honestly never thought of it before. My work had given me a peek behind the curtain so to speak. There’s this romantic idea that all that happens is you take a little nap and wake up cured. But I know what happens when you go to sleep, the knives that cut into your still beating heart, the machines and mangled tubes forcing you to stay alive, and that razor thin wire so easy to cross. I’ve been there when people opened up, I’ve seen the hands that reach inside and pull pieces of you out. All it takes is one wayward cut, one misplaced veins, one tiny mistake and you will never wake up. I can’t have that for me. Living day to day is already a roll of the dice for me. I’d rather not tempt those odds.
But I was so tired. Day in and day out, listening and waiting for my heart to finally give out, eyeing the phone I’d panic call the nearest hospital, constantly aware of how fragile my life was. Every second was a coin toss, every night a tragedy in waiting. Just once before I died, I wanted to go to sleep one night without wondering if I would wake back up.
At face value, the operation was a simple transplant. The only difference was the materials used in the transplant. Apparently, they'd found a new way to grow organs using some advanced gene therapy that even I don't fully understand. The gist, as far as I can make out, is that it's this new breed of stem-cell treatment or something like that. It sounds impractical and even a little implausible, but hey, that's why it's experimental.
They say your nerves get to you before the operation, especially in that final hour when it’s just you and your thoughts. I’d spent my whole life in a room like that, but it didn’t make it any easier. I barely breathed and didn't move a muscle. The slightest motion felt like it would shatter me and right before it was finally supposed to be better. With the way my nerves had wound me up, I’m amazed the anesthetic worked at all.
When it was all over, I remember thinking “this can’t be real”. Like I'd woken up into another dream. The surgery had gone off without a hitch, and I was inclined to agree. It's hard to describe, but I could tell my heart was different. Years of listening to it in the dead of night had made me grow accustomed to every aspect of it, the volume, pitch, rhythm, even the way it felt against my ribs. Now, it was stronger, bolder, like a drum guiding an army. No longer did it shake under its own weight or sway within my ribs like a withered fruit hanging from a dead tree. I almost broke out into tears at the realization.
That night was the best sleep I'd ever gotten.
The next few days passed in a blur of tests, questionnaires, and bad hospital food. By all accounts, I was healthy as could be, and I gave every indication that I was, but there were still boxes that needed to be checked off. As drooling as it was, it was all made worth it whenever nightfall came. The doctors would leave, the hospital would quiet down, and I'd be left with my new heartbeat to gently lull me to sleep.
It wasn't until I was finally released home that I realized someone was wrong. I took a few days off to enjoy myself, luxuriating in the ease my new heart brought me. It still felt like there was a sword over my head, but it didn't have the same presence as before. I could go anywhere, do anything, and I didn't have to worry about falling down dead. There was so much I thought about doing that my mind short-circuited in a way. I ended up just lying down on my couch, unable to think of anything else to do. I had a hand over my heart the whole time, feeling the steady beats against my palm and relishing in each one.
My eyes snapped to attention in an instant. My every atom froze as my ears stood on end, straining to hear the flaw. The world seemed to freeze on its face in the moments I listened to my heart, all sensation fading from view until only my pulse remained.
Several minutes passed with me just lying there, waiting to hear something I was now convinced hadn't happened. Maybe it was something banging against the walls or simply my mind playing a trick on me. Still, the thought of what I may have heard lingered in my mind. I went about the rest of the day, telling myself I was being paranoid and trying to enjoy my newfound health. Yet, an ear always lingered in my pulse.
It wasn't until a few days later that I heard it again. I'd resumed studying at a nearby hospital when I felt something much worse than just a faulty pulse.
I clamped a hand over my heart the second I heard that long note dragging itself out and froze in place. Beneath my fingers, I could feel my heart doing what I’d feared. It grew and grew and grew, swelling beyond normalcy and straining against my ribs. I even felt it pushing up against my hand through my skin.
There was something else to it, however. As the walls of my heart pushed into my palm, I felt a second mass moving through it. At first I thought it was blood flooding into the organ. But blood doesn’t slither. The body, whatever it was, twisted and writhed within my heart, straining against its walls as if trying to burst forth. There was something else to it’s movements, however. I could feel it sliding through my heart and uncoiling itself as if it were trying to get comfortable. Yet the more I felt it untangle it’s writhing body, the less it pushed against my heart. Soon the organ began to shrink back down to it’s normal size and without a moment's hesitation, resume beating as if it had never stopped.
I must've looked mad when I came bursting into the emergency wing. I can even remember begging them to cut me open then and there to find out what was wrong. They had to strap me down before they could start running tests. When they were done, they found nothing. My bloodwork came back clean, my heartbeat didn't show any abnormalities, and my x-rays showed no signs of the stress I'd come in screaming about. By all accounts, I was healthy as could be. So I made them run them all again and again and again and again. I even ran the tests myself a few times. If it wasn't for the hospital bill, I might've stayed there through the week, poking and prodding at myself.
When I came home, I immediately contacted the Doctor who supplied me with my heart, thinking she might know something about what had happened. Or at least I tried. The number I'd been given was disconnected, and the email apparently no longer existed. Furthermore, when I contacted the hospital that treated me, they said she'd transferred elsewhere shortly after completing my surgery. As odd as that was, what was odder were the others involved in her study. They weren't doctors or people who'd co-sponsored the study. They were all just med students like me called in to be glorified assistants. Half of them couldn't even tell me the details of the study. Only one Doctor was involved in giving me my new heart, and she seems to have disappeared off the face of the earth.
So at that point, I was on my own, and just as things started to get worse. My pulse began to break more and more frequently, sometimes contracting until it was little more than a shriveled shake of meat and swelling until it threatened to break through my ribcage. Everytime, however, that thing was present. I could feel it wiggling and slithering through my heart, contorting it to such extreme degrees it broke my pulse. At least I think I did.
Upon telling my colleagues, I was instantly referred to psychotic faculties for some of the more colorful delusions. I was insulted at first, but I quickly started to believe the concerns they’d raised. My whole life, I'd be haunted by what might happen to my heart, and now, I was finally living without that fear. What would that do to me? And so, I had to learn to not live with but put up with whenever my heart would act abnormally.
I might have even admitted myself somewhere if not for my heart. That thing I’d felt didn’t just go away and after a while, I was starting to think it wasn’t alone. It was subtle at first. A vein could quiver here and there, which I at first didn’t think much of. But then the quivers got longer and I started to feel what exactly was going on. They weren’t trembling like a normal leg twitch. They were bloating in mere moments and for a reason I still try not to think of. During the worst times, I could feel them: dozens of tiny bodies wriggling against each other. They’d pile up against each other so much they’d clog the artery in an instant and push against the walls until they threatened to burst. Their frantic movements shook the vein as blood built up on either side of the block, until eventually, they broke free. Blood would flow back through the vein and all those tiny bodies would disappear into its flow.
And then there were the bad nights. The nights when I would wake up not because of some nightmare of cardiac anomaly. I could feel something moving inside me: a long, thin body slinking just under my skin. It was bigger than the others, maybe even bigger than the one I could feel stretching my heart. It’d twist and turn, running itself over my bones and burying it’s narrow head between the sinew of my muscles. I didn’t dare more when it happened, fearing what might happen if those things got scared and waited until the exhaustion sent me to sleep. In the morning, I’d tear open my bed sheet and inspect the spot I’d felt the anomaly, but find only skin and veins resting in its place.
I thought about going back to the hospital, but there weren’t any for me to visit anymore. Even if a hospital would take me, all my previous visits had drained what little savings I had. Despite this, I couldn't take it any longer. I didn’t care what other people say and still don’t. I'm not insane. There is something wrong with me and I’m going to figure out what.
After acquiring some hospital materials, I sat myself down in my kitchen and got to work. I just need some answers, anything to prove I wasn't insane. I was going to run the standard stuff first, blood pressure, temperature, etc., and first on that list was drawing blood. I didn't expect anything of it. My previous check-ups had done the exact same thing to no avail, but I was nothing if not meticulous.
I stuck myself without a care, only to realize the needle didn't break the vein. Thinking it was faulty, I tried again with five more wires to no avail. Every time the needles would pierce my skin only to stop as soon as they struck the vein. I could see the muscle bending under the pressure of the syringe but never breaking. My heart began to race as my efforts failed, doing nothing for my sanity. All I could think about as my pulse pounded in my ears was whichever way it would contort. Whether it would bloat, shrivel, or maybe something worse. And me just sitting there, hoping it would decide not to kill me.
I couldn't stand that.
I grabbed one more needle, raised it over my head, and stabbed it down into my arm with all my might. It was like trying to cut a rock with a pencil. I raised it and smashed it down again, feeling my vein buckle yet ultimately sending shifting to the side and letting my veins instead strike muscle. My pulse only rose at this, driving my efforts and making me stab down with ever-increasing ferocity. I must have poked a dozen holes in myself before I finally managed to impale the vein.
That's when it started to move. The second it was pierced, I felt the entire vein quiver and thrash beneath my skin as if it were trying to uproot itself. I could see it through my skin, whipping around inside me and feeling it drag itself over my muscles. At the time, I swore it would have ripped clean through me with how violently it tore itself about.
I didn't realize how close to the edge I was until that moment. I'm not sure if it was the sheer terror or just the final straw in a long string of strangeness, but it broke me regardless. Guided only by panicked insanity, I grabbed a nearby knife and drove it into my arm. I missed the vein and ended up stabbing down into the muscle. The knifepoint scraped the bone on the underside of my elbow as if I wasn't in enough pain. Agony seared my nerves like hot oil yet only drove me further into a hysteria that fueled my efforts.
I ripped the knife out, sweat mixing with the blood that spilled from the wound, but through the red murk, I could still see that thrashing vein. With shock and pain clouding my mind, I snatched the writhing root between my fingers and uprooted it from my arm.
Only then did I realize what it was. It wasn’t a vein at all. It was a worm. Its body was long and thin like an artery or the like should have been with skin that turned a deep scarlet as I dug it free. It thrashed against my grip with a ferocity I did not think possible from something so small. I could feel its efforts echoing throughout me. Its long body was still buried in my arm, submerged beneath the flesh and sinew where I could feel it wriggling and writhing. The sensation wove through my body, growing longer and longer as the thing grew more desperate and giving me a horrifyingly accurate picture of just how big it was. It snaked throughout every inch of me, constricting around my organs and sliding between my bones before coming to a rest at the place I instinctively knew it would.
My heart beat erratically, mimicking the worms thrashing perfectly. I could feel the end of the creature breaking the surface and digging deep into the pulsating organ, weaving itself through the cavities. Every way it flung itself caused my heart to contort.
The worst part was it wasn't alone. As it coiled within my heart, I could feel it rubbing against other squirming bodies. I can't begin to imagine how many there must be. My heart was stuffed to the breaking point with hundreds of tiny, wriggling bodies. I'm amazed it still works with all the worms clogging its cavities.
I've never felt so powerless. It was my heart they were in, my body, and yet I could do nothing but pray they would let me live.
I don't know how long I would have sat there in shock, holding the worm if it didn't bite me. It didn't have any teeth, but the idea of it chewing a new hole in me to burrow in and watching squirm down into my finger was more than enough. I dropped the creature and watched as it slowly retreated back into my arm, sliding between my muscles fibers before disappearing from sight.
Unfortunately, it was not the last of the worms. Staring down into my wound, I could see dozens upon dozens of little bodies squirming within the gash. They were leagues smaller, so much so I couldn't feel their movements, but they were there. Some would crawl from tattered flesh only to retreat back into the warm meat, and others seemed to be suckling at the ends of my cut. A few, however, nibbled at the skin it'd split open and, before long, pulled the wound shut. And just like that, it was as if nothing at all had happened. The only proof it ever happened were the bloodstains on my floor.
I'm not sure what to do now. I want to go back to the hospital, but with my track record, I'm sure I'd get turned away. Not like I could afford it anyways. I'm not even sure if I should do anything in the first place. If what I saw is real, which I'm hoping it wasn't, I don't know what to make of it. Whatever those things are, I can't tell if they're keeping me alive, feeding on me, or both. Are they in my veins or replacing them? I can't even tell how many there are. I only know there inside my body, and I'm trapped in there with them.
So now I'm here. I don't know where else to go. There are a whole bunch of strange stories posted here, so I'm hoping someone might know about what's happening to me.
The Doctor who treated me was named Martha Winthrop and worked at Ox Grove Medical Center. She's about 40, Caucasian, and has this scar under her left eye that looks like a fish hook. If anyone knows anything about her, please contact me. Like it needs to be said, but if you see her, stay away.
And if you're like me and something similar has happened to you, please don't hesitate to reach out to me. Maybe I can help you. Or maybe we can help each other.
Until then, I'll be here. Waiting. Again.
submitted by Realistic_Treacle384 to nosleep [link] [comments]
2022.01.28 19:11 Fearless-Cricket3297 Et c'est la Finaaaaaaale du Pangolin d'Or des #Covidiots2021 en catégorie Médecin. Qui arrachera des mains du Saruman des Calanques le trophée 2020? [ les challengers de cette année sont de très bon niveau]
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2022.01.28 19:11 Ok-Door-7682 Is anyone scared of getting off Accutane ?
2022.01.28 19:11 evoletrose314 Looking for a sugar daddy. Message me. I can verify.
2022.01.28 19:11 WorkExternal6066 My gf says hurtful things when she’s upset
I love my girlfriend very much but whenever we argue she says things that hurt sometimes and sometimes she’ll even insult me. I’ve talked about it before but it continues to happen. I’ve never insulted her before because I wouldn’t want to hurt her like that. Sometimes I feel like she doesn’t love me the way I love her. Lately we’ve been fighting so much and we both hate it. I don’t want this relationship to end but I do want us to be healthy. What do I do?
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2022.01.28 19:11 talen_lee First Of Predators
2022.01.28 19:11 misasgf hot take: saying cum isn’t funny 😲😮😱🤭
2022.01.28 19:11 undeletedme 8 month progress
2022.01.28 19:10 WhiskyScout30yr Can confirm, licked one and it tasted like Alum. 0/10 would not recommend
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2022.01.28 19:10 FlameGhost90 What are the main reasons why the character Amber in the television show called Invincible was so disliked and what are ways you would improve her character?
2022.01.28 19:10 Dexstylee When to swap a panel
Question for those of you who deal with Resi more consistently.
I've been doing a bit of work in a nicer area of town but the majority was built in the 70s.
The last one I worked on the neutral bus was sparking like crazy when I pushed some of the wires out of the way to pull in the new ccts. I had to re tighten almost every neutral on the bus. (Sylvania panel with that stupid neutral bus design)
Everything seemed fine after I finished, no more arcing, but I still want to change the panel. I just don't want to come off like I'm trying to upsell something they don't need. I'm going to look at a neighbours panel tonight because he thinks he has the same issues with arcing.
So I guess my question is what factors do you consider when you're suggesting a panel change? It's a substantial cost to the homeowner for no noticeable difference in their day to day lives.
submitted by Dexstylee to electricians [link] [comments]
2022.01.28 19:10 SourClown Who would you recommend for Smite beginners for each role?
Outside of the gods you get by default, who would you recommend for Solo, Jungle, support, adc, and mid?
I’m not new to MOBAs but I am new to Smite, I have a lot of League of Legends experience but I know this is an entirely different type of MOBA. Just want to make sure I don’t mess with anything too complex in Smite starting off
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2022.01.28 19:10 strikemedaddy Just updated a few hours ago. Who should I get?
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2022.01.28 19:10 KeepOnFallinDine Decorative bobbleheads in the latest GTA Online DLC
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2022.01.28 19:10 TheAmeritrader A strategy that never misses
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2022.01.28 19:10 NoOutlandishness3350 If anyone has the time…can please you comment a sentence (or few 🤣) on how you would view me based on my birth chart? hehe luv y’all fellow scorpions
2022.01.28 19:10 Techerson Does Wingstop ever have promo codes?
2022.01.28 19:10 sbpotdbot Soccer Daily - 1/29/22 (Saturday)
Soccer Betting Chat: http://discord.gg/sportsbook | /sportsbook Rules | Sportsbook List | /sportsbook chat | General Discussion/Questions Biweekly | Futures Monthly | Models and Statistics Monthly | Podcasts Monthly |
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2022.01.28 19:10 FinnProtoyeen Wretched ingredients
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2022.01.28 19:10 lolita-cake It’s been a very bad and sad week... but at least I look hot (23)
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2022.01.28 19:10 Eye-on-Springfield Lots of people wishing to see green grass again. Wondering what everyone has planned for when the snow finally melts?
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2022.01.28 19:10 endlesscl Trabalhei 5 anos como designer home office 8h por dia em contrato de serviço sem CLT e escritório de advocacia diz que tenho poucas chances de ganhar por minhas testemunhas serem presenciais e só saberem da minha existência após 2 anos
Bem, título auto explicativo. Voltei chorando sinceramente querendo me matar hoje do escritório de advocacia após dizerem que teria poucas chances de ganhar em um emprego onde trabalhava mais de oito horas por dia por metas de arte entregues, precisava justificar ausência em horário comercial e repor horas, por não ter testemunhas que presenciaram o meu dia a dia em home office além de família, ex-namorado, namorado que não servem como testemunha e e-mails e diálogos pelo Skype / WhatsApp não servem suficiente como provas. Estou sendo enrolada pelo escritório de advocacia? Eles disseram que é um caso complexo pois me pejotizaram no meio da pandemia para receber auxílio emergencial dizendo que não teriam como pagar meu salário fixo 2300, precisando cortar meu salário para 1700 e que como pj eu tinha direito a receber o auxílio. Não diminuíram minha carga horária e eu não tinha direito a nada, décimo terceiro, fgts, férias, seguro-desemprego... Entrei em depressão grave e obtive LER e tenho dor constante até hoje no braço direito. Há meses que não consigo sair da cama direito por depressão grave. Precisei comprar um computador novo e não tive nenhuma ajuda de custo com equipamentos ou adaptações ergonômicas do meu quarto para trabalhar e minhas testemunhas são ex-funcionárias presenciais que também trabalhavam em contrato e foram demitidas sem nenhum direito. Entrei pro Auxílio-doença e fui demitida ainda nele e os advogados disseram que como não tenho testemunha que acompanhava meu home office comprovando que eu trabalhava tudo isso e obedecia ordens (mesmo tendo provas por msgs) eu dificilmente ganharia.
submitted by endlesscl to ConselhosLegais [link] [comments]
2022.01.28 19:10 Neowza I'm looking for a vest like this *but Not from Everlane
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