Live Better With Cancer Promo Codes and Coupons | January 2021

Barely getting this one in under the wire before the new year! The holidays can be a tough time and I hope all you readers are making a good time of it and staying safe this year! Also all my judgements for being on time are based on my timezone, so far all of you who have been waiting this entire new year for another post? Well here you go! Just in time! As always enjoy!
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First Chapter
Previous Chapter
Neu Vieumau Joint Occupation Zone
Raiden was pretty happy with how the day was going so far. Get some credits, maybe actually get some new shoes… He wasn’t sure exactly if he should get his hopes up though. Why would the barter shop guy give him something so good for free? Would the human military police not live up to the coupon? His various experiences with the local militia had not exactly warmed him up to the idea that they had his best interests at heart. Yet… when he had called for help in the alleyway that squad of them had come running without hesitation.
Shifting the straps of the small pack a little he felt a growing unease gnawing at his insides as he walked along the streets towards the old police station. There were so many unknowns that could flare up that gave rise to a vast imagination of everything going wrong. He was just one corner away from the street it was on. Since the humans had moved in they’d set up barricades and more security than the old militia had, and just the thought of turning onto the street was making him hesitate. He wanted to consider his options here…
“Raiden!” He turned and saw Lenk and Neff exiting an alley across the street. Lenk was holding a bent pipe in one hand menacingly. Raiden immediately considered his options and turned the corner onto the street with the police station. Whatever else might happen they weren’t Neff and Lenk who were obviously still pissed he’d ruined their chance to scavenge that fancy bot. “Raiden!” He heard him call from around the corner and picked up his speed a little, gripping the straps of his pack as he tried to walk fast enough to make sure he’d get to the barricades, without making it look like he was running away from people exactly.
A little up the street were the sandbags and razorwire being manned by the blue armor human soldiers. Most of them seemed to just be sitting around, two had their helmets off and were smoking. But in the middle of the post and towering above everything else was a three meter tall mech suit. Someone had gone through the trouble of painting a black band on its arm with MP in white letters on the outside. As if that really meant anything. The effect was also somewhat spoiled by the mech having “To Pillage and Stomp” written on the side of its head.
Once Raiden had gotten closer to the barricades he looked back and saw Lenk and Neff round the corner, but stopped short when they realized where they were. “[Can’t hide forever!]” Lenk angrily yelled at him and then they both quickly retreated.
This had gotten the attention of some of the soldiers at the post who looked Raiden’s way when he approached. “What did you do to piss those guys off, kid?” One asked as he neared the opening in the barricades off to the side of the street.
“Yeah I uh… guess they’re mad I fucked their sister.” He responded with the first thing that came to mind. The soldiers around him all laughed at that.
“Hey sorry kid we can’t offer police protection to sister fuckers if that’s why you’re here.” One mentioned with a chuckle.
“No, but we can offer you a smoke.” One of the soldiers who had been smoking pulled a crumpled pack from his armored vest to hold it out.
“Dude, don’t go giving a kid a smoke. Fuck is wrong with you?” Mentioned the other smoking soldier right next to him.
“I’m not saying he has to! Just offering. The kid made me laugh.” Replied the first smoker.
“Uhm…” Raiden eyed the pack being held out. “If I took one it would be just to barter with. Is that okay?”
“I’m offering you a smoke. Don’t have to smoke it here.” The smoker replied with a grin. Raiden nodded and took a cigarette to carefully tuck behind his ear.
“Thanks.” He nodded to the smoker and headed up the stairs into the police station itself. First he noticed the doors had been substantially reinforced, then the moment he stepped inside he was met with a security scanner. A pair of soldiers were manning it, chatting in the middle, but seeing him they split up, one heading to the cargo scanner while the other stood by the frame in the middle.
“Pack on the conveyor. Any sharp objects or hazardous stuff we need to know about?” The first soldier sounding bored out of his mind asked as Raiden approached and unslung his pack to set on the conveyor.
“I don’t think so? I’m making deliveries. It’s… food and stuff. Please don’t open the packages. I would like to get paid. Also be careful cause one of them has a laxative in it.” When he said that the soldier arched a brow but nodded and began to push the bag into the scanner. Raiden headed into the central frame then, already lifting his arms above his head before needing to be told. He was familiar with the operation.
There was a light hum as the scanner… scanned he supposed. Then he heard a light beep. “Hey kid…” This would be it. Something was wrong, or there was a tax they hadn’t mentioned. “You’re too young to smoke.” The soldier manning the scanner frame reached out to take the cigarette from behind his ear.
“Oh, uhm the guy outside gave it to me for making him laugh.” Raiden explained. “I’m not going to smoke it. Just use it to barter for like a candy bar.”
“Huh… alright. Well just remember kid, smoking is bad.” The soldier handed Raiden the cigarette back and waved him through. Grabbing his pack he headed further inside and yet still felt a bit apprehensive. Was this really going to be this easy? Ahead was a desk with the first soldiers he’d seen not in armor. There were two, and they were wearing what looked like basic olive drab uniforms. One up front was wearing a hat he’d never seen before either. Then again he only ever saw them in helmets or without. It struck him as a little odd the man would wear a hat indoors but who was he to judge? He did notice stripes on his arm, that meant he was in charge right?
Just as Raiden was trying to figure out how to address the soldier he looked up and saw Raiden looking at him. “What can I do for you kid?”
Did everyone have to call him Kid? “I uh… I am here with a coupon. For boots.” He opened his pack to fish around for the paper the barter store owner had given him.
“A coupon for boots? Kid this isn’t a shoe store.” Raiden focused on moving the boxes around trying desperately to find the paper. How was it in a small pack with so few things in it he suddenly couldn’t find the only piece of paper? “Is that a cigarette behind your ear? Kid you shouldn’t smoke, it’s bad for you.”
“Why does everyone keep telling me that?” Raiden blurted out, feeling flustered. “I’m not going to smoke it! I’m just going to barter it! And I don’t have anywhere else to keep it safe. Besides don’t you guys get cigarettes in your rations?” Raiden countered.
“Yeah but if we die before retirement age they don’t have to pay us any pensions.” The soldier replied with a shrug.
“What?” Raiden asked, feeling more confused now.
“Never mind kid it’ll make more sense when you’re older. If you don’t smoke that is. Otherwise you’ll die young and runty. It’s bad for you.” Raiden rolled his eyes a moment but finally fished out the piece of paper to hand over. “Kid I’m telling you this isn’t a shoe store it’s a police station.”
“Guidelines state we’re not supposed to call it a police station. It’s an MP CP.” The other soldier without a hat working behind the desk mentioned.
“Excuse me?” The striped soldier glanced over.
“Official guidelines state we’re supposed to refer to it as a police station since we’re still a military unit. Therefore we’re supposed to refer to it as a military police command post. Command point? Control post? Control point?” The soldier sounded less sure with every iteration. “MP CP.” He returned to the first set of letters.
“Since when the fuck do you read guidelines?” The front soldier asked.
“Since you told me to sarge.” The other replied sounding a bit defensive.
“Yes, because you kept fucking up your paperwork and now you’re lecturing me on calling this place an MP CP?” He shook his head and sighed before finally returning his focus on Raiden. He did take the paper though and as he looked it over a moment he frowned, then he turned to type on his computer. Raiden stood there, unsure of what to do until the sarge finally spoke up. “Huh… Well… it’s actually real. Whadya know. Alright kid I guess you’re off to requisition. Down that hall, down the stairs on your right, and then take a right at the bottom and go straight. It’ll be posted. The other way is the morgue. Don’t go that way.” The sarge handed him back the coupon.
“Thanks.” Raiden nodded, and headed off to follow the directions. The hallway he headed down smelled vaguely of paint, and when he looked it seemed like they must have painted it recently. They’d gone with a sort of… deep purple. Like on their void flag. Probably to distance themselves from the militia they’d replaced. The militia always used gold, or what they claimed was gold color. He always thought it looked more like dry mustard.
Finding the stairs was easy, and once he reached the bottom he saw the sign on the far wall easily. Requisition to his right, morgue to his left. The fresh paint smell was even more heavy down here. Heading towards requisition he carefully opened a door and saw another desk ahead much like the one upstairs. Except behind it was glass overlooking some kind of big… warehouse filled with shelves. The arrangement of the stuff inside reminded him of Clay and his barter shop.
Down here there were two soldiers, a man and woman in the same olive drab uniforms as upstairs, though neither wore a hat and neither was working. Instead they were facing the window and talking. Just as he got closer he could start to overhear the woman first. “So then what did you do?”
“The fuck do you think I did? I pulled up my pants and got the fuck out of there before she noticed what happened.” The man replied which caused the woman to laugh.
“You dirty fuck.” She shook her head slowly.
“What the fuck else could I do?” The man shrugged.
“You say excuse me ma’am in the interest of human Davari relations I feel I should inform you that I’ve made a bit of a mess of your sheets and need some help.” The woman was laughing even as she suggested this.
“Fuck you.” Came his reply.
“So what happened when you went back to the bar?” The woman asked next.
“You think I went back? Fuck no. I’ve been avoiding it ever since! And it sucks cause those drinks were good too. Strong. And cheap. And strong…” The man shook his head slowly and let out a heavy sigh.
“Yeah strong enough to make you-” The woman just began to turn in her chair and saw Raiden standing at the counter. “HOLY SHIT!” She jumped a bit which made the other soldier jump and Raiden flinched, worried he was about to get shot. But neither pulled out a gun or anything and the woman just set a hand over her chest. “Fuck kid! Where the hell did you come from?!”
“How much did you hear?!” Asked the man, seeming more worried about that.
“I uh… something about you pulling up your pants. I don’t know.” Raiden looked between them. “I have a coupon for boots.”
“What? This isn’t a shoe store.” The woman replied but when he handed over the paper she typed the details into her computer and just upstairs something positive happened. “Huh… okay. Well… but it says footwear. Not boots. We just have to give you footwear.” Raiden sighed a little, boots had been a bit much of an ask anyway.
“Do we have anything else for footwear?” The male soldier asked with a confused look.
“Well… no. But… he’s a civvie. Can we give him mil-spec?” The woman asked.
“They’re fucking boots.” The man countered.
“Yeah, mil-spec boots. You remember that fucking lecture on no mil-spec items distributing across the civvies.” The woman shrugged and scratched her head. “Check… check the regs.”
“Why me?” The man asked.
“Because I’m the corporal and I fucking told you to.” She sternly growled back. The man sighed and pulled a worn looking book out of a desk drawer as he started to flip through it.
“What’s going on here?” It was Raiden’s turn to jump as he was surprised to hear a voice behind him. Turning he saw a soldier entering the room wearing armor.
“Staff Sergeant.” The woman stood up. “This civilian brought in a… uh coupon for boots. But the form only specifies footwear. Yet, we only have boots.”
“And… this is a problem… why?” The armored soldier asked as he approached Raiden and looked him over.
“They’re mil-spec. And we just had the meeting about not distributing mil-spec good to-” She was about to continue but the staff sergeant just waved it off.
“This kid helped us out earlier. Told us who that van belongs to that we’ve been trying to figure out for a week.” Raiden realized this must be the sarge from the squad in front of the pawn shop. In the armor and helmets he didn’t recognize them.
“The one by the pawn shop?” The woman asked, confirming his realization.
“Yep. Turns out it belongs to the guy who lives at the home it's parked in front of.” The armored soldier shook his head slowly.
“How did it take us a week to figure that out?” The woman asked.
“Because no one there would talk to us. Kid, why would no one talk to us?” The armored soldier asked him directly then.
“Uhm… because they don’t really trust the occupiers. The militia before they pulled out said a lot of… stuff.” Raiden didn’t feel like getting specific.
“Save these miserable bastards only for them to hate our guts.” The woman muttered with a sigh.
“Still, he helped us out. So, get him some boots.” The armored soldier commanded then.
“Yes, sir.” The woman nodded before looking at Raiden. “What’s your shoe size kid?”
“Uh…” Raiden paused.
“Right… in which units. We’ve got five around here don’t we? Just… give me a shoe.” She held out a hand and Raiden looked down at his feet. He felt a flush of embarrassment rise to his cheeks but he carefully leaned against the desk and raised his ankle over his other knee in a squat so he could delicately pull the rubber and fabric he’d fashioned into footwear off his foot. When he set it on the desk then a look crossed her face. Pity. He looked away, feeling even more humiliated with the position he was in. “Boots… and. Staff Sergeant mind if I get him some socks too?”
“That’s a good idea.” Soon as he approved it the woman headed into the back. Raiden felt a heat grow within him as they talked about it. They all pitied him. They felt bad. He didn’t have proper shoes or socks. He was some… street rat. Some kid to them. Somehow this felt worse to him than if they’d been berating him and insulting him like the militia used to. His hands clenched at the straps of his backpack. “I bet your feet are tougher than mine kid. You’re a real badass, you know that?”
Raiden looked up at the armored soldier in confusion when he said that. “What? I’m not.”
“Yeah, you are.” The armored soldier nodded slowly. “Growing up around here can’t be easy. Between the war and everything else but you’re sticking it out. You didn’t have that pack when you entered the pawn shop. Do you work there?”
“It’s… I’m trying out for it.” Raiden nodded slowly. “Gave me some deliveries to make and the coupon for the boots.” He felt quiet as he spoke. His emotions somewhat jumbled up between the confusion and embarrassment.
“That’s nice of him. What’s your name anyway?” The soldier set a hand on his shoulder then applied just a little bit of pressure as if to help reassure him.
“Raiden.” He answered with a light gulp.
“Well Raiden, I’m sure you’re tougher than half my platoon. They bitch if they don’t get fruit punch in their rations and here you are hoofing it around town with shoes you made yourself. It’s admirable. Isn’t it specialist?” He looked over at the other soldier behind the desk.
“Uh yes. Yes, staff sergeant it is admirable. Very-very admirable.” He nodded. Raiden felt a slightly different flush of embarrassment now. He didn’t know how to process compliments.
“Thanks.” He nearly whispered as he looked at the floor. His one foot clad only in a thread bare dirty sock, his big toe sticking out of a hole in the front.
“Raiden, since you’re here and you helped me out earlier, mind if I ask you something else? You seem pretty streetsmart. Maybe you’ll know.” Raiden looked up at the sarge wondering what the question was. “Little over a week ago a building exploded. Or… the top did. Hear anything about it? Any… word on the street?”
“That tower over in the Ravex occupation zone?” He asked and the sarge nodded. “I mean… nothing really. I had heard it belonged to some… eccentric Kra’Kto’Sui. Lived in the pool up top. Uhm… just… rumours about crime… maybe drugs. People said he paid for info on stuff.” Raiden shrugged.
“Remember kid, uh Raiden, just say no to drugs.” The soldier behind the desk added. Raiden looked at him with a confused frown. “If you’re offered drugs… just say no. Isn’t that right sarge?”
“Yes… Yes specialist that is correct. Say no to drugs. Like all the amphetamines you do. Or the booze.” The specialist blinked at that.
“Wait. How did this become about me? I only do mil-spec amphetamines sarge! Honest! And I only drink off duty! I follow all the stup-uuhhhh official guidelines! I don’t rape people or drive drunk or get into fights or anything! And… I am… well noted for… my… uuhhhhh… consistent drive to improve our relations with local Davari. I was… just speaking to Corporal Colbert about my efforts in fact staff sergeant.” The armored soldier released Raiden’s shoulder just so he could grip the front of his helmet visor and shake his head. “What?”
“Here, see if these fit.” Raiden had been so focused on the sarge and the specialist that he didn’t notice the woman had returned until she was setting out some socks on the desk before him, and a pair of black boots that looked brand new. Raiden nervously reached out to take the socks and boots, almost expecting the soldiers to yank them away in a moment. Yet, they just watched him. Looking around he saw a chair in the corner and walked over to it, so he could sit down and try the boots and socks on.
“Staff sergeant, by the way I didn’t mean to hassle the kid about the boots. It’s just the CO had that memo about mil-spec items-” The woman began to explain but the sage just raised a hand.
“CYA. I understand corporal.” Raiden glanced up as he removed his other shoe and socks. Just pulling the full thick military socks over his feet made him shiver a little. They were so soft… Then he looked at the boots. They were… tall. Very tall. He also didn’t see any laces and was a bit confused.
“Are those jump boots? Why does he get jump boots? We don’t get jump boots.” The specialist complained while Raiden looked the boots over. When he looked up both the woman and the sarge were staring at him. “Uh… I mean… those are very nice boots ki-Raiden. Hope you enjoy them.”
“How do I put them on?” Raiden confessed then. “I don’t see laces.”
“Just pull them on first.” The sarge instructed, so Raiden pulled one onto his right foot first. It felt… cushoiny. Unlike why he expected. “Now feel along the top for a little nub on either side and pinch them at the same time.” Raiden’s fingers carefully squeezed along the top lining of the boot to find the nubs set inside the fabric. Then he pinched them and suddenly the boot seemed to shrink around his foot feeling perfectly snug.
“Whoa…” He muttered as the soldiers chuckled a bit.
“Nice isn’t it? Sometimes they don’t skimp on gear. Sometimes. How does it feel?” Raiden looked down at his foot and hesitantly put weight onto his heel. It was hard to describe exactly. His foot felt wrapped up in a soft cushion and yet… supported at the same time. It was unlike anything he’d experienced.
“Good? I think? I’ve never… had new shoes or… anything like this.” He confessed.
“Put the other on, stand up, and take a few steps. Wiggle your toes. You want enough space so your toes aren’t crushed but not so much your foot slides around.” The sarge informed him. Raiden quickly pulled the other boot on and repeated the process to make the boot snug up. When he rose to his feet he nearly jumped up, it felt like there was such little weight on his feet, yet so much more… Just… better.
After hesitating a moment he took a few steps and then slowly rose up onto the tips of his toes and back down as if trying to get a feel for being a couple centimeters taller thanks to the thick soles. “It feels amazing.”
“Glad to hear it. Did you get more socks corporal Colbert?” The sarge asked.
“Right yeah. I don’t care what you think you should be doing. Put on a new set every day. And please wash them regularly.” The woman handed him four more sets of socks.
“Thanks… I… I don’t know what to say.” Raiden shrugged a little, feeling put on the spot.
“Don’t worry about it Raiden. Just remember, if you hear anything or see anything we need to know come tell us. Crime, planned attacks, terrorists, anything like that at all. You come find me. Or, any of the human patrols here honestly. Doesn’t have to be void.” The sarge mentioned.
“Aren’t you all void?” Raiden asked with a frown. “Didn’t you guys get approval to move into the joint occupation zone? Isn’t that why you’re here?”
“We’re the ones who moved into the MP CPs, uh the police stations here yes. But this zone is patrolled by all members of the joint occupation forces. We’re in blue armor, the American marines are in desert camo and high vis vests, and the slavs are usually in urban camo and have SSR patches. Hard to miss.” Raiden squinted a moment.
“You’re all different? Also… desert camo?” Some of the planet was arid, and there were a few deserts sure. But Neu Vieumau was coastal and not even close to desert.
“Don’t ask me, it’s what they’re wearing. And yes, we’re all different. Plus there’s Ravex, and Kra’Kto’Sui, and of course the Rimjobs. Uuhhhh Rimmers. Shit. Reformed Imperial Military. Don’t call them Rimmers. They don’t like that.” Raiden knew that the joint occupation situation was complicated but he hadn’t realized just how complicated until now. Then again for the last several years his primary concern had been surviving his dad and passing the public education tests.
“Okay. I’ll let you know.” He nodded. “But thanks again.”
“Good luck getting your job.” The sarge added as Raiden nodded and headed out the door. He couldn’t help but move a bit faster down the hall and then once he got to the stairs he rushed up them as if his feet didn’t weigh a thing. He felt a little silly but he knew he had a big grin on his face. Real footwear! It was like a dream.
“Guess we do give out boots.” Raiden looked over at the guy at the front desk and nodded.
“Yes. They were very nice down there.” He added.
“In requisition? If you say so.” The soldier made a face as if it was impossible to believe. Even so Raiden headed out of the police station… MP CP and back into the cluster of soldiers posted out front.
“Hey kid, nice drop boots.” One commented as he walked out. “Off to fuck someone else’s sister in those?”
“Yeah yours.” He was as surprised as the soldier no doubt by his immediate reply but around him the other soldiers all began to laugh. It was a bit of an instinct from dealing with comments by the militia before but now he felt bad.
“Kid… my sister would eat you alive and not in a way you’d enjoy but you’re fucking welcome to it.” The soldier shook his head a moment as the others kept laughing. Raiden just gave a nervous grin and kept walking before anything worse happened.
With that done he pulled out the paper that listed all the packages and their addresses. There was one just a few streets up. That old house that had been abandoned he thought. Maybe someone had moved in? Either way he began heading that direction and caught himself bouncing on the heels of his feet a little with his steps. His feet felt so good! The boots were amazing! Nothing could ruin his day now!
“[A reckoning has come across the bilge rat!]” Raiden just barely had time to process Neff stepping out of the basement steps to his side, swinging a board at Raiden. Moving purely on reflex, Raiden jumped to the side, feeling the edge of the board tug at the sleeve of his shirt a moment. Lenk was across the street having been waiting in case Raiden had turned the other way.
The soldiers were just around the corner, but Neff was between him and them, not to mention Lenk would be rushing over. So Raiden turned and began sprinting up the street. Neff’s full force swing with the board had shifted his momentum so Raiden had a second of lead to use. If he’d been in his old rags… He’d left them with the soldiers! He’d completely forgotten to pick them up! They were probably thinking he was a rude- “[Wrath knows no distance! Run and die tired coward!]”
Right focus on running. Neff and Lenk were both older than him and taller. Raiden could outrun them with a swift burst of speed but every time he focused on just running straight they’d catch up to him eventually. He could already hear their footsteps racing behind him though he didn’t dare spare a glance. Instead he broke hard left down the alley behind the Tviraki restaurant. There were always plenty of leftover crates down there.
Sprinting past some empty boxes he grabbed the edges and yanked to tumble them in Neff’s path while he looked at the big fence up ahead. Normally he’d never make it but in these boots… He could jump up the trash can onto the dumpster and then roll over the top of the fence and drop down onto the dumpster on the other side. He could do it. He had to do it. “[Nowhere to go you cancerous runt!]” He really had to do it.
Raiden jumped up onto the trash can, and felt it start to tilt with his weight as he stepped off it to charge across the thankfully closed dumpster before leaping as high as he could muster. Rather than roll over the top of the fence however he was shocked to find he cleared the top of the fence easily. Though his added height meant he was coming down on the far edge of the dumpster, not the middle… And it was open, not closed.
His eyes went wide with horror as he seemed to be coming straight down into a pile of rotten food scraps and whatever else the restaurant had thrown out. The stench wafted up into his nostrils even as he descended. Desperately he waved his arms, spinning them in the air as if to fly, or just get that tiny bit of extra momentum. Thankfully this seemed to work as his feed landed on the edge of the dumpster. He wanted to shout in victory, yet the shock of his landing transferred up to his knees which buckled a bit and had to quickly lean forward, sloppily rolling forward as he tumbled down into a cluster of trash cans.
Having his fall broken by metal trash cans was hardly ideal as he rolled off them to the ground, his shoulder and ankle immediately groaning in pain. Yet, he had made it over and he looked back at Neff on the other side of the fence obviously surprised. “Hah! [Scum sucking parasite!]” Raiden did his best to hide his pain as he raised his middle finger at the bully chasing after him.
Yet Neff was not easily deterred. He jumped up onto the dumpster and got ready to hop over the top of the fence after Raiden. “Oh shit…” He turned and quickly ran off down the alley before Neff could drop down. His ankle groaned a bit harder but he pushed through and kept running. The house was just up ahead. What good was that going to do him?! They were just going to beat his ass on the doorstep! But he had no other way to try and get away. So he just kept running.
On the far side of the alleyway he looked to his right and sprinted as best he could to the structure. It had a brick wall around it to isolate it from the neighbors. The three story structure looked ominous, with blacked out windows and a bone white paint along the old wooden structure. Wrought iron spikes lining the wall, and the gate leading in was bent into the shape of the Paragon of Wrath Bioujar Dooritay. One didn’t usually want to mess with the disciples of Dooritay.
But Raiden didn’t have a choice as he frantically opened the gate and rushed inside then up the steps to the door. His finger hammered on the doorbell as he heard it beeping and buzzing from the other side while he looked back in fear as Neff, then Lenk rushed up to the gate. Raiden turned, pressing his back to the door as he watched. Why had he come here? He was so screwed… Lenk took a step forward but Neff grabbed his shoulder.
“[No. That crazy lady lives here.]” The two thugs glanced at one another for a moment, then back at Raiden, considering their options. “[You have to get lucky every time Raiden! We only have to get lucky once!]” Neff threatened before they backed up. Raiden felt the door behind his back start to open and he quickly leaned forward so he didn’t fall backwards when the door was opened.
Turning around just as it opened he was faced with a dark figure silhouetted against the light from inside, his eyes taking a moment to adjust. First he noticed the horns, which meant a Davari. They were rather wide too, no doubt bulky with muscles. Then his eyes went to some kind of claw weapon in their right hand. He was so screwed. But then the figure stepped forward into view. “Oh deary me are you alright? I saw those young ruffians chasing you.”
Raiden was face to face with an old Davari woman. The hair around her temples was grey, and her horns had begun to bleach white with age. She was wearing an oversized shirt with sunflowers on it, an old set of sweatpants, and some big rubber galoshes on her feet. The claw thing she was holding in one hand was matched by a small digging trowel in the other. Also, had she spoken to him in English? Had he imagined that? “Uh… thank you. Uhm…” His eyes did return to the claw she held.
Noticing his stare she looked down and then held it up. “Oh! My claw? It’s just for gardening work. I’m sorry if I gave you a fright, you caught me just before I was going to tend to my garden. I only moved in recently so I need to get the bulbs in and get them growing! Bring some life to this little place.” Her big bright smile was comforting. “Now, did you just try to seek shelter here young man?”
“Oh uhm… no. I uh… Package.” Raiden’s breath was a bit ragged as his body seemed to catch up with what was happening. Slipping the pack off his shoulders he opened it up and rummaged around to pull out the box for her.
“Oh! You’re from that pawn shop? Wonderful. It’s my heart medication. The ticker just can’t handle the church orgies like it used to.” She let out a deep laugh that filled the air even as Raiden blushed at her comment.
“Could I… get water?” He asked next.
“Oh yes, you must be tired from running! Yes yes, come on in.” She waved him in then, setting the claw and little trowel down on a table near the door. Looking around the room he noticed a lot of paintings that were splashes of colors that didn’t seem to form anything but still had a… happy vibe to them? He also noticed lots of pictures of flowers and plants and the old lady standing in front of various buildings or landmarks. He noticed a lot from Partizania Rai, the tropical resort world.
There were also lots of pictures and paintings of cartoonish, happy animals. Cats, dogs, Vukos, Quibs, Lormites, even some kind of bushy tailed orange thing he’d never seen. She led him into a kitchen that was as big as the apartment he lived in and waved for him to sit at a giant wooden table. “Would you like some water sweetie?” She asked and he nodded as she grabbed a glass covered in dancing bunnies and filled it from a spout in her fridge. He blinked as he looked at her giant fridge. It actually had an ice and water dispenser on the front! He’d seen it in vids but never in person.
“Now, you just sit a moment and catch your breath sweetie. I’m just going to make sure it’s the right medication. Is that okay?” As she asked that Raiden nodded and grabbed the glass, gulping at the water as he suddenly found himself far more thirsty than he realized. The old Davari lady just smiled and took the box as she shuffled off into another room.
Agnivra frowned as she looked at the box in her hand. Everything looked to be in order except a small hand written note just under the label. “Exceptional Service Guaranteed! No good neighbor is beyond our reach! Check out our web hotline service immediately for a special vibrant offer! These offers aren’t dreams! Awaken to the truth, of our low low deals!” To any normal person it would just be a slightly odd ad for the business. But to particular people it held a very different meaning. Pulling out a slate she returned to the Pawn Shop’s website. Scanning the page she then clicked on a very small icon that nearly looked like just part of the background.
A customer review template popped up asking her to fill in a username. Ignoring the usual suggestions she quickly typed in a set of keywords and then hit the button to talk to a rep. There was a delay and then a message popped up. “Reliqua non est aeternum.”
“Ooohh…” She bit her lower lip a moment as she scratched her head. “Nemo nostrum est quam ira.” She typed in and sent. Then immediately followed up. “Quam irae nemo nostrum.” Was that it? “Listen, no one is beyond our wrath. I can’t remember all the phrases exactly. Sierra Triumvirate Helios Roulette 34275. Sleeper activated.”
She was worried what would happen for a moment but then let out a sigh of relief when the next message popped up. “I doubt my Latin is any better. Welcome back to the fold agent. You’ve been gone quite a while. You’re not due to retire yet. I’ll overlook any lapses in service provided you understand that work is to be done immediately.”
Agnivra looked back at the door, knowing the young man was still in her kitchen. “Am I to kill the messenger?”
“No.” She let out another sigh of relief. She hated killing the young. It was bad form. “Observe his performance. If anyone is hindering him determine if they’re hostile agents or just local noise.”
“Two locals were spotted chasing him to this residence.” She returned.
“Then research them. If they’re working for anyone else, deal with them.” Came the reply.
“Specific termination, or dealer’s choice?” She sent back.
“Dealer’s choice.” She thought about that a moment.
“Good, my garden is in need of fertilizer. Additional objectives at this time? Handler ID?” Who was it who had called her back after all this time? How had they found her?
“No further details. Agent Autumn, I hope you remember how to kill. Handler out.” The message board vanished.
“Hhhmmm…” Angivra rubbed her chin. They were being coy. “Young man. Would you like something to eat? I bet you’re hungry!” She tucked the slate away and shuffled back towards the kitchen with a big smile. She’d see what the boy knew. If she was being awakened then she wanted to know if she was killing for a cause, or a criminal. Either way she had a feeling her garden would thrive in this city.
Chapter 4

Meth Medicine Cabinet

Some people want meds to take the unpleasantness away after using methamphetamines. Others want to take “something” to keep from getting the same reactions before using meth. The wiser will be the second group. For those of you who know little or nothing about the upkeep of your body and what meth is doing to it: There is NO magic pill.
Obviously, we can’t cover every condition or medical problem associated with using meth, but we can give you an essential guide to using the basics of vitamins, minerals and even herbal supplements that can be used preventatively, during and after use.
We won’t discuss any chemicals that may be found in other sections of Drugs-Forum dealing with bringing down the high, forcing sleep or in any way induces the body to react in a manner you might like it to. We are not polyusers and don’t advise doing so. Combining uppers with uppers, or uppers with downers can become quite dangerous—and that is not Harm Reduction.
The use of meth causes a rapid chemical change in the mind and body, and the body reacts to it as a toxin, which it is. Our idea is to reduce the damage caused.
Preparation for a meth session is extremely important. If the body is not ready for this onslaught, the damage comes on faster and with more force. Two things we might not find in the medicine cabinet, but more likely the refrigerator, are the essentials you need, in liquid and solid form.
Keeping the body hydrated is the #1 rule. What does this mean? Simply making sure we have consumed enough water and metabolites, and continue to do so, while meth does its thing. Water is the base liquid, but the addition of metabolites such as potassium and sodium, are critical to maintain your body’s fluid, regulate blood pressure and heart function. Sports drinks are recommended by many.
Once meth enters the body, it’s a fight for survival and blood is routed to the organs that cleanse the body. The blood has to be moving fast—free-flowing—and that means it’s not sticky and dehydrated. Those organs need to remain healthy to do the job at hand and survive while doing it.
Eating. A nutritious diet of fresh fruits and vegetables, as well as high protein foods such as red meats will give your body the majority of vitamins and minerals you need to keep you healthy. Fatty foods such as French fries and deep-fried cheese sticks do not contain them.
Hydrating and Eating are your 2 top priorities, bar none.
Now, let’s go see what’s in the medicine cabinet. On the top shelf—the most important one–the first item is Multivitamins (and minerals). Do you really need them? Do you eat 3 nutritiously balanced meals a day along with drinking 3, 8-oz. glasses of homogenized milk, including a good workout regimen in the sun? Most people don’t, and that’s why you need a multivitamin.
Many meth users have asked what kind of a multivitamin they should take. If you research them on the internet, it seems the ratings on each chart are somewhat dependent on who is sponsoring the charts of the best. I’ve looked around, read reviews, and come up with two that actually rate somewhere better than the middle of the charts and aren’t that expensive. Just remember: take one per day, and only one.
For Men: Centrum Silver Men 50+. The experts say you should ignore the “men 50+,” because the combination is correct for any male. These multis don’t contain any iron and you already get enough from your food. Go to the Centrum Silver website and get a $3.00 off coupon for them!
For Women: One-A-Day Women’s contain the amount of iron needed for premenopausal women, in addition to the other essentials you should find in a multi. Go to the One-A-Day Women’s website and get a $1.00 off coupon!
While included in the multis, there is one other vitamin that needs to be increased in the meth users’ diet, as well as those who also smoke cigarettes. It is Vitamin D3. You need vitamin D3 to properly absorb calcium. Meth leaches the body of calcium and it’s vital you maintain blood calcium levels. You also need D3 to help your body continue to build strong and healthy bones all throughout your life. It also can reduce inflammation and hold your immune system in check. The most natural way the body gets Vitamin D3 is from the sun. Milk is also fortified with Vitamin D3. But since you didn’t drink your milk and didn’t go outside to exercise in the sun, you really need these. I take one 5,000I.U. soft gel every day.
The next bottle on the top shelf is Calcium, Magnesium & Zinc. Even though they are already included in your multi (but only at 25%-30% of daily recommended value for Calcium and Magnesium), the way meth uses these minerals up, you really need more. Calcium, of course, builds strong bones, but it also makes muscles move and contract, allows nerves to carry messages, keeps blood vessels throughout the body healthy, and helpsneurotransmitter release! If you know and love dopamine, then you know how really important this is. Unless you are on a heavy fig and rutabaga diet, then you need this supplement.
Magnesium is important for the functioning of your heart, muscles, kidneys, and balancing other nutrients such as calcium and potassium. It also improves blood pressure. Once you know what the deficiencies of magnesium cause, you will ask no more questions. They are: anxiety, weak bones, low energy, weakness, inability to sleep, PMS and hormonal imbalances, irritability, nervousness, headaches, abnormal heart rhythm, muscle tension, spasms, cramps, and fatigue. Now get this—one of the biggest complaints we have—TEETH CLENCHING, or Bruxism, is also a Magnesium deficiency. And it seems the magnesium does a better job resolving it when it has a fresh supply of calcium helping it.
Zinc helps you maintain a healthy immune system and fights infections. (Take note, IV users.) Zinc is necessary for the functioning of more than 300 different enzymes and plays a vital role in an enormous number of biological processes.
What a one-two-three knockout punch these guys have. And only two tablets a day will take care of all these things for just pennies.
Potassium Gluconate. I think I was taking these tablets before meth was invented. Potassium is an electrolyte (along with sodium), which is why I encourage people to use sports drinks, as they are included. The potassium helps regulate (lower) blood pressure and heart function. As you know, when using meth, your blood pressure skyrockets, so why not help curb the possibility of a stroke? As a matter of fact, there was a Harvard study that showed taking potassium supplements along with a diuretic (yeah, give me a couple of those potassiums with a cup of coffee), reduced the incidence of a stroke by 60%. Potassium is what makes our cardiovascular and nervous systems function. I’ve found it also works with magnesium to prevent cramping, and it aids during the recuperation part of your meth escapades.
The tablets contain 595mg of potassium, which is slightly more than the potassium found in a medium-sized banana. Take your pick. Have one of each. But be sure to double that number over the period of a day. Potassium doesn’t stay in the system for a long time. Oh, and one more very important thing: potassium is one of the prime movers, along with zinc, in elimination of wastes. That’s where all of those toxins the body is trying to get rid of are hanging out. And if they hang out inside of you too long, you become a recipient of toxic buildup—not a good thing.
Those, believe it or not, are your “prepping for meth use” essentials. Food, drink, and 4 bottles of vitamins and minerals. And when you look at it, and how complete it really is, it reminds me of prepping for the flu. You know the invader is coming, and you are prepared.
Before we have a look at the 2nd shelf, let me tell you that the supplements industry brings in over $60 billion a year. Once some people start taking them, it becomes almost an…addiction. “Horny Goat Weed sounds good. I think I’ll try that along with the Horsetail Shavegrass.” About $1,000 later and a cabinet full of supplements, these people realize all they are doing is taking supplements. They can’t even remember the last time they cooked a meal. So, let’s not get too carried away and fill the shelf too full.
Another point of view involves human nature. If we make a list of things to take every day that is too long, because of the hassle and time involved, a lot of people will fall out of the program. However, if we have simply the essentials that will do the job, the tablets or capsules can be assembled and swallowed in less than a minute.
My first two personal picks not only are helpful when using meth, but also fulfill a couple of other needs I have. The first is L-arginine. It’s a dietary supplement that produces Nitric Oxide (NO). Nitric Oxide should not be confused with Nitrous Oxide, the laughing gas. But it’s still a gas and what is does is enter the bloodstream and drop off these little bubbles on the insides of the vein walls, stretching them out, making them wider. My primary use is because I have a slight high blood pressure condition, and it allows the blood to flow smoother. But, if you’re a meth user, too, you might have figured out it works against vasoconstriction, or tightening of the veins. Many men cope with vasoconstriction when high. The more meth they use, the tighter the blood vessels, until no more blood can get through to make an erection. Relief is possible with just a couple of capsules a day, two times a day. Also, for IV users who have a difficult time finding veins, I have discovered that as the veins plump a little, they also become more visible in some areas.
The next supplement is HGH Dopa 400, also known as mucuna pruriens. I don’t bother with the HGH (human growth hormone) efficacy as it is small, even if true, but the plant material ground up and put in these capsules is full of L-dopa, a precursor to making dopamine. Now why would anyone want their brains to produce more dopamine? Besides the fact I’m getting a bit old and maybe the dopamine production isn’t as good as it used to be (normal), maybe I just don’t want to run out of dopamine when I’m high and want to stay that way.
The next couple of bottles contain supplements that are popular, and effective.
Omega-3 fatty acids. Omega-3s are not produced by the body and naturally are derived from eating fish. Research shows that omega-3 fatty acids reduce inflammation and may help lower risk of chronic diseases such as heart disease, cancer, and arthritis. Omega-3 fatty acids are highly concentrated in the brain and appear to be important for cognitive (brain memory and performance) and behavioral function. It may also assist in controlling high blood pressure and, in people with Bipolar disorder, reduce mood swings. Symptoms of omega-3 fatty acid deficiency include fatigue, poor memory, dry skin, heart problems, mood swings or depression, and poor circulation. Daily dosing should be based on the amount of EPA (180mg) and DHA (120mg) acids, not total amount of fish oil.
Coenzyme Q10, or CoQ10 vitamin supplement, is naturally made in the body, but sometimes (especially with aging) the necessary levels of this enzyme-protein that speeds up the rate at which chemical reactions take place in the body, drop to below what is considered normal. Its main function, however, is as an antioxidant. While many trials have been run, peer reviews have not been overwhelmingly positive, due to the lack of further studies. The antioxidant function of CoQ10 appears strongest in reducing neurological damage or decline, including that of dopamine neurotransmitters. My next door neighbor, who is 80, says this is the closest thing to a miracle drug. Do you want to live that long? My answer is that I take this stuff. Since it is fat-soluble, I take it at the same time as my Omega-3. Daily dosage is 200mg-600mg.
At this point in time, I am satisfied with the above list. The dietary regimen that we started off with, along with these vitamins, minerals and supplements, are really the glue that binds in keeping our bodies whole, especially for the meth user. They are also the most protective and restorative additions we can make without breaking the bank.
There are other supplements that seem to be common with meth users. Perhaps the most often mentioned is melatonin. This is a hormone that is found in all biological organisms, and as such, we know we produce it ourselves, in the pineal gland from the raw material Tryptophan. Melatonin regulates our internal clock and maintains the Circadian Rhythm of our body. But we know what happens when we start using meth. All of a sudden our internal clock is shattered and we are officially on “Meth Time.” Depending on usage patterns and amounts, we find one Meth Day can extend itself past 24, 36, 48 hours and even beyond. At some point, the user may decide to end this prolonged day and get some sleep. But the meth is still active and sleep is hard to arrive.
Melatonin turns off the meth clock and helps reset the body to the biological clock function. It also promotes sleep and affords the body a long restful period, where deep sleep begins and allows the body to start healing itself. Taking the recommended tablets returns the body to normal levels of Melatonin where sleep becomes automatic.
Melatonin is also used by some people along with benzodiazepines; however there is a possibility of creating a benzo dependency with long term use. (As mentioned earlier, I can’t talk about or recommend using uppers with uppers or uppers with downers as there sometimes are consequences that cannot be predicted.) There are also several other chemical interactions with a supplemental dose of melatonin which can reduce the efficacy of other medications you may be taking. It was for that reason, I decided not to use melatonin.
If we were to look at the lower level of the ”Meth Medicine Cabinet”, we also might find other things that might be used. For instance, that bottle ofisopropyl alcohol, which is mostly used to sterilize any areas of the skin that might be met by an IV needle, a broken piece of a glass pipe or other minor cuts and scratches. A tube of Hydrocortisone 1% Cream used to treat itching and small burns, and a tube of Triple Antibiotic Ointment (Neosporin) to be applied on a damaged area to prevent infection are a couple of great first aid musts. Not to mention only accidents that happen when doing your drug, think of all of those times you’ve experienced spun out people pulling things apart, moving things around, falling on their butts and creating minor mayhem.
What’s this bottle? Viagra! For those men who have really serious consequences trying to get their manhood going while under siege from vasoconstriction, a half-tab of this stuff may do the trick. The caution is that it’s trying to relax those veins while the norepinephrine release is doing just the opposite. There’s a tug-o-war going on here that can stress the body, especially the heart.
Yohimbe 2000 is over there in the corner. It’s a natural stimulant, what I call “Poor Man’s Meth.” One of the better features of this herbal product is that it actually acts as a vasodilator, while still stimulating the body. Yohimbe has been known as an aphrodisiac for centuries, which most likely has been based on how it stimulates. Let’s say you are all out of your man-made stimulant but still feel ready to go that extra mile. Using one or two of these capsules may just let you make it to the finish line. But be careful, as there is a very thin line between being good and being bad. Too much of this stuff, and the nausea and other bad vibe reactions kick in, simply spoiling the moment.
Sitting up behind the Yohimbe bottle are a couple of sanitary wrapped prophylactics. They are there as a reminder that meth users, as a group, become a pretty high percentage of people who spread STDs, HIV/AIDS, and other infectious diseases along with assorted cooties, which are not the same as meth bugs.
Below the Meth Medicine Cabinet, there’s a basket full of goodies. Let’s investigate. I see a couple of toothbrushes, some toothpaste and dental floss. I think we’re onto something! Taking care of your teeth and mouth are extremely important, whether a meth user or not. But when meth gets ahold of your mouth, the damage can increase at the speed of light. Next to those items is a big bottle of ACT Restoring Mouthwash, great for restoring enamel and it helps mineral recrystallization on the teeth. Next to the ACT is a bottle of Biotene, a mouthwash specifically made for dry mouth. Meth dries out the mouth and gives you the common “Meth Mouth.” A dry mouth means bacteria can form, causing ulcerations—mouth sores. Biotene also comes in gel form, which is designed to keep your mouth from going dry for 6-8 hours. There’s also a salt shaker and an empty glass. Falling short of the commercial methods, you can always gargle with warm salt water to kill off the bacteria. Just do it more often.
Recommendations—Good and Bad
Here are a couple of items I have seen people recommend, but they come with some advisories. There are many of our multivitamins that are also sold individually as Super Paks or under other marketing names. Let’s take the Vitamin B Complex group as one such item. And I am sure they have some benefits that your multis don’t have. But the fact remains that they are already in your multis at 100% Recommended Values. Before proceeding to take the both, and therefore at least doubling recommended amounts, I would want to research them to see at what level they become toxic.
Here’s another that I see recommended from time-to-time, and for the life of me I can’t understand why, except whoever started this trend did not do their homework. L-tyrosine is abundant in our foods and we get more than enough of it without supplementation. But, it’s also known to convert to L-dopa. And that’s where the research must have ended. They didn’t read how it also produces a lot of norepinephrine, that Dark Knight of Vasoconstriction–that bugaboo of irony created when using meth. But there’s more. It just might be that adding the supplement puts you over the top and actually shuts down your production of dopamine. That’s what L-tyrosine can do in larger amounts.
Some people simply cannot eat when high, due to other conditions they may suffer, or their own body chemistry. There is an alternative in liquid form that you can use to replace the solid food. Many meth users prefer to use protein shakes, such as Ensure.
Before we end this, let’s talk about dosages. More people than I want to imagine must believe that if one tablet is good, two must be better. That is not the case. Even vitamins and minerals have toxic levels. Always read recommended dosages and warning labels on any vitamins, minerals, supplements, and medicines you may also be taking. As I had to remind a friend one time: taking too many vitamins is not going to get you high, but it might get you sick.
There’s still more room in the Meth Medicine Cabinet. Maybe you have something you’d like to recommend. If you have something neat you have discovered and use, then let us know. But just don’t name it. Tell us how it helps your body, if there are any contraindications, and if there are any downsides to using it. You should at least be able to explain this, since you are using them.

Me (24F) and my boyfriend (24M) are planning on getting married but my fear of his family is literally killing me.

Favorite S-ex Pos-itions Nw

Yet another Bay Area techie: I am 30 years old, live in San Francisco, and make $150K a year.

Trigger warning: Depression and family illness
Section One: Assets and Debt
Retirement Accounts: $200K
I really regret not contributing to my 401K as soon as possible and not doing the backdoor Roth IRA and mega backdoor Roth IRA as soon as possible. Although not too shabby now, my retirement accounts would be in a much better place.
Equity: $0
I rent, SF prices are crazy and even though I can afford a down payment, the lack of liquidity and the amount that would be going to rent instead of my other investments would be at a rate that I currently am not able to justify.
Plus, with WFH, I have no idea if the home prices in SF are going to continue this way.
Savings account balance: $80K
The savings account gives me a APR of < 1.0%.
Checking account balance: $10K
I usually have around $10K+ in this checking account because it charges me fees when the balance dips below $10K. I’ve been meaning to close this account for a while.
Credit card debt: $0
None - I’ve always hated debt. I didn’t have a credit card until my first year out of college.
Student loan debt: $0
None - I was lucky enough to have parents who were willing to pay for my STEM degree. Funnily enough, the degree is not in Computer Science, and I’ve only used a fraction of what I ended up learning.
Taxable Brokerage Account: $700K
Combination of company stock and personal brokerage. Investing strategy was initially individual tech stocks, which has grown at least 200% in the last 5 years. All new investments are into index funds, since I’m trying to temper my risk a bit.

Section Two: Income
Income Progression:
I suffered from severe depression during college. I skipped classes, and basically scraped by with sub 3.0 GPA.
I also didn’t look for jobs while I was in college, resulting in more than a six month gap between college and work. For my first job, I was hired as a contract engineer and was paid about $23 an hour. It was less than what I made at my college internship.
At some point, the company decided to hire me full time for $70K with a 10% bonus and benefits. My manager asked me what I wanted, and said he wasn’t in charge of determining my salary. Only after the negotiations, he told me that he had input into the hiring process. I didn’t feel too good about that, but it was my first full time job and I didn’t really have the skills to get into a different company. The one thing I was good at was picking things up quickly, and I excelled at this job. I got incremental raises (about $5K) while I was working for this company.
After a couple of years at this company, I was tired of the politics, and frankly, the extremely basic work. I studied CS interview questions and interviewed at a medium-sized company as a software developer, and they offered me roughly $170K, with 20% bonus, benefits, and stock. I turned in my two week notice. My manager’s manager tried to get me to stay and was willing to offer $85K. When she heard how much I was making at the new company, she told me to take the offer. In retrospect, I was getting a great deal from the new company - I basically only had the extremely limited CS knowledge I had cobbled from this company, and I definitely was thrown into the deep end of the swimming pool when it came to how much I had to learn.
After a year at this company, I got promoted and my total compensation was now around $220K. It was then I began looking for work again. I had learned a hard lesson at the first company - don’t climb the corporate ladder, jump. I still have a strong distrust of upper management due to the experience with my first company.
I had three serious offers I was looking at - a startup with a total compensation of $375K ($650K at the end of four years, due to the stock vesting schedule), a prestigious BigCo with a total compensation of $220K, and another financial BigCo that offered me $225K cash compensation. They all gave me an offer less than what I was making, initially, until I told them what I was making. After that, they then tried to compete with my other offers. I signed with the prestigious BigCo at +$30K after negotiations, for a total of $250K.
I am still currently working there. I’ve been promoted, and with the stock increase, my total compensation this year will be $300K.
I sometimes think about whether or not I should have taken that startup offer. Part of the reason I ended up working for this BigCo is that it looks great on my resume, and I was planning on skipping out to a different company in a couple of years. But I love the team and manager I work with now, who are very understanding and supportive of mental health, and I’m really comfortable here. I’m still debating.
Main Job Monthly Take Home: $8K
Stock Monthly Take Home: $6K

Section Three: Expenses
Rent: $2600/mo
Savings contribution: $4500/mo to my savings account
Subscriptions: Netflix($13/mo), HBO Max($15/mo), Spotify Premium($10/mo), YouTube Premium (free on my boyfriend’s plan)
Gym membership: $200/mo They’re a small martial arts gym and still charging me since they’re doing remote classes. I also have a suspended gym membership with a rock climbing gym.
Retirement contribution: $63,000/year This includes backdoor and mega backdoor Roths.
Credit Card Fees: $99/year CU card, $450/year CSR. I don’t think I’ve paid for a flight since I’ve had the CSR, but the increase in annual fee has me balking at renewing it another year.
Regular therapy: I met my deductible earlier this year, but all in all I’ve probably spent $2-3K a year on therapy. It really helps me, because I still suffer from depression and have an extremely complicated family dynamic.
Investment contribution: I occasionally contribute to my brokerage account when I think it’s a good time to buy. I currently have about $30K cash sitting in my brokerage, so am probably going to try and invest that first before anything else.
Debt payments: $0
Donations: $3000-6000/year My company matches my donations to charities, so I donate through them.
Electric: $100/mo
Wifi: $60/mo with ATT. I’ve been shopping around, because their service really sucks.
Cellphone: $0 on my family’s plan.
Car payment / insurance: $0 I have a beater my dad bought me back when I was in college. On my family’s insurance.
My SO read this section, and said I was quite spoiled because my family pays for quite a few things - the catch is, I lend them money whenever they ask me to.

Day 1
9:39am: I wake up bleary eyed and check the time. Thank god, I can still rest a little bit before my 10:30 meeting. I stayed over at my boyfriend’s place the night before, so I roll over and give him a hug. I feel my lymph nodes, and they’re swollen. I feel sick, but weigh myself in the bathroom anyways.
10:14am: I’m late to my meeting. My boyfriend’s place is roughly 15 minutes away from mine. I call an Uber. In the car, I check Reddit and see that there’s been official book recommendations for the MoneyDiaries subreddit book club! I purchase both books on Amazon in paperback. $36.23
10:38am: I still end up 8 minutes late. I apologize to my coworkers and they’re nice enough to say it’s not a big deal. Should have brought my laptop over last night so I could call in remotely.
11:00am: I take my antidepressants.
11:20am: I debate sleeping in my own bed, and heat up some chicken nuggets. I’ve been trying to lose weight, but between the combination of personal stress, not sleeping well, and feeling sick, I give in. I eat two corn dogs and a frozen burrito. My next meeting is in a couple of hours, so I fall asleep.
1:30pm: I’ve passed out and the noise from construction wakes me up. My meeting goes smoothly, and we even have some good design discussions. In the pandemic, productivity on our team has declined significantly. I drink two cups of coffee and two pints of water.
2:30pm: My boyfriend texts me and tells me he’s got an offer! He’s been unemployed for the last 6+ months, so his money stash has slowly been dwindling. I tell him congrats and that we should celebrate. His offer is $170K base with options. I don’t like the option package, but he should probably take it anyways.
3:00pm: My packages from Amazon have arrived. I hand-wash the pieces of the newest kitchen gadget my friends got me, and open the packages. There are some computer cords, compostable bags, and hot sauces. I ordered two different brands of Sriracha sauce - I was extremely curious about them after reading an article about how Sriracha is originally a Thai sauce. Taste test might be tonight. My mini fan has also come in, which is great because the Great San Francisco heat wave is almost upon us.
7:00pm: I take a walk in my neighborhood. BF arrives later. We make omelets for dinner with leftovers and make dessert. Taste test verdict: He prefers the original Huy Fong sriracha. After dinner, we lounge around and then watch TV in bed until we fall asleep.
Total: $36.23

Day 2
10:14am: I was totally exhausted yesterday, but I wake up feeling refreshed today. My boyfriend says it’s already 10. What??? I check my phone and weigh myself in the bathroom. I’m down 5 lbs from yesterday, which I’m pretty sure is all water weight. I go back to bed.
10:30am: I lounge in bed and respond to questions and emails from my coworkers on my phone.
11:45am: I finally get out of bed and open my laptop. My boyfriend tells me his benefits after emailing with the HR department. I’m so happy for him. I check my messages, and my mom is messaging me about a bidet at Costco. I’ve been looking at bidets for weeks since they were available on the Treasure Truck at Amazon. I decide I’ve spent enough time researching, and just buy a cheap one on Amazon. $32.54
1:00pm: I slather on some sunscreen, and we leave the apartment. I take a walk to pick up a salad, he leaves my apartment for his. At the salad place, I realize I’m not going to be able to get a salad and make it back in time with two people ahead of me, and just turn around and walk back to my apartment. 6000 steps, no salad.
2:00pm: I make my meeting, albeit sweaty. I feel pretty emotionally exhausted. I have a lot of family drama going on currently. Someone is ill and someone else is lying, and my mom has been calling me every couple of hours to complain and tell me to fix it. It’s been a rough couple of weeks, and incredibly demotivating. I’m lucky enough to be close to my manager to talk about these things. They recommend I take some mental health days.
3:00pm: I heat up some fish sticks in place of my salad. It’s not healthy, but it’ll do.
3:30pm: I check in with my coworkers.. I feel distracted because of the heat in my apartment (90F) and because of the fish sticks. I take a break, turn on the AC, and play some online Settlers of Catan.
4:30pm: Back to working.
8:00pm: I’m on a procrastination spiral. Been playing Settlers and finished the newest season of Aggretsuko.
4:54am: Before I fall asleep, I check my phone. My downstairs neighbor has asked me to be more quiet. Oops. I text an apology and fall asleep.
(Some time passes - a combination of depression and toxic family drama continues. Diary picks up a bit later. I apologize, I know that typical MDs follow a consecutive week.)

Day 3
12:00pm: I wake up. I’m late to my standup.
1:00pm: I attempt to do some work. Didn’t get anything done.
1:30pm: Moderated 3 hour family shouting match. Take the day off work, since it’s been unproductive and seems like it’s going to continue to be unproductive.
4:45pm: I reach out to two family therapists and ask about their availability.
5:00pm: Drive back to my apartment. My car is covered with fine, white ash. Get gas, pick up boyfriend, and go back to my place. Cry for half an hour about life. Boyfriend comforts, but also tries not to enable a pity party. $59.90
7:00pm: I’ve been getting these weird spam messages about urgent packages from USPS. I report them to my cell phone provider. The concerning is that they know my first name and number, because the texts have my first name.
10:30pm: Order delivery because I can’t bring myself to cook. We watch (500) Days of Summer, then a couple of episodes of Shameless. I begin to feel better. $43.14
11:00pm: Schedule Amazon Prime grocery deliveries for tomorrow, since I don’t have any coffee. $91.21
3:00am: Fall asleep.
Total: $194.25

Day 4
9:00am: My alarm goes off.
9:30am: Someone has been ringing the doorbell. I ignore it, but my boyfriend nudges me awake and I realize it’s the delivery. I buzz them in and fall back asleep.
12:00pm: My boyfriend apparently tried to wake me up earlier, but I was dead to the world. I feel guilty, because my personal situation is obviously affecting my work. I take my antidepressants (I’ve missed the past two days) and log on.
12:30pm: Boyfriend helps me install a bidet. I show him “I will teach you to be rich” and he hisses at me. He hates thinking about money. We kiss and then he leaves for his apartment. I continue to work, but begin to feel nauseous from the air quality. SF has 200+ AQI. My lungs hurt when I breathe. I text my family to warn them to not go out (or wear N95 masks when they do).
4:30pm: I give up on working. It’s too hard to concentrate due to the nausea. I’ve also woken myself up coughing the last two days. I order an air purifier online. They’re sold out but they promise to deliver again when they’re in stock. I also buy the 4 year warranty. $218.55
5:00pm: I begin making dinner, hoping that it’ll quell or distract me from the nausea. I fill my humidifier. Hopefully it filtrates the air somewhat.
5:30pm: I talk to some of my friends about traveling outside of CA. I just want to breathe!
5:50pm: The second Amazon Prime delivery comes.
7:00pm: After dinner, I play some Settlers and start organizing my apartment. In my depression fueled laziness, I’ve let it go completely. Two tables are covered with a jumble of things because I just couldn’t be bothered, and the bathroom, the bedroom, even the kitchen suffers from this as well. I begin to organize the bathroom, but kind of start organizing the other rooms, just because there’s so many things that ended up in different places.
8:00pm: I realize there’s nails along the walls of my kitchen, and realize I can string some fairy lights. I daydream about buying a projector for my bedroom and instead order 3 power strips with warranties, and some fairy lights recommended by Wirecutter. $97.87
10:00pm: The toilet keeps leaking, probably from a not correctly installed bidet. The bidet was only $30, so it could be a cheap bidet. I turn the water off.
2:00am: I moved some furniture around! I moved a table into the kitchen, a shelf into the living room, and finally used the S-hooks I bought to hang my pots and pans. I think the kitchen looks a lot nicer, and I’ve cleared some of the clutter in different rooms between watching Monk and playing Settlers.
Total: $316.42

Day 5
12:00pm: I organize my kitchen. I’ve never really made an apartment into a home before. It’s exciting. I switch between organizing and texting my friends and watching more Monk. Antidepressants. Coffee.
1:30pm: My friend is giving away her cat and I briefly contemplate getting a cat. She’s very cute, but am I ready for parenthood? I tell her I’ll consider it. I browse Home Depot home decor.
2:00pm: I read an article about roasting your own coffee beans. I want to start making my own cold brew! It says that the fumes cause lung cancer, so I make a mental note to go out and buy some beans instead.
5:00pm: I’m done with the kitchen! I begin organizing my bathroom. I realized that I can re-purpose one of my standing boards as a bathroom caddy, and resolve to take a nice long bath once I’m done.
6:00pm: The lights in my entire apartment are yellow. I make another mental note to get daylight bulbs in addition to the coffee.
6:40pm: I finally look up online why my toilet keeps running. One of the tubes got detached while the bidet was being installed. I reattach the tube, and it seems to do the trick.
7:00pm: I start my bath, but the water is yellow from rust. Ugh. It is also freezing, so I decide that it’s time to call it a day and head over to my boyfriend’s place.
8:00pm: We watch TV shows and eat cheese on flour tortillas with sriracha sauce. He mentions that my hair looks rough, and agrees to help me clean it up. I fall asleep at 2, but remember to wear my night guard.
Total: $0

Day 6
11:30am: I wake up and I hurt all over. Must have slept wrong. Give boyfriend a hug, brush teeth, get ready.
12:00pm: Boyfriend helps clean up my hair, and I take the long awaited shower.
1:00pm: I put on my N95 mask and leave.
2:00pm: D’oh. I forgot to pick up the light bulbs and the coffee. I run out and get some, and sharpen my knives. I price check the coffee, but not the light bulbs at the store. Turns out I could have bought the same amount for half price on Amazon. $54.52
3:00pm: I arrive home with the worst headache and have some emergency coffee. I spend the next hour organizing my personal, work, and cleaning lists. It’s a trick I learned from therapy. If I feel demotivated, I plan my schedule out, so at least I can say I did something that day.
3:30pm: I didn’t hear back from the two family therapists about the in person appointment, so I book a video call family therapy appointment for Friday. I put in the laundry and change all the light bulbs. It takes a lot longer than I thought it would. $7.00
4:30pm: All the lights are changed! I update my OS and then begin rearranging my bedroom and living room again.
5:30pm: I want to order out, but I still have curry leftovers. I make rice to go with the curry.
7:00pm: I eat and fill out some paperwork for my family therapy session. I move heavy furniture down into the storage unit.
8:00pm: I drag the bookcase from the bedroom and try to move the heavy desk into the bedroom. No dice. I leave it outside and set up my monitors, keyboards, and mouse on it for WFH. However, after the Catalina OS update, it seems like USB-C no longer works with the monitor. I order a Displayport to USB-C cable on Amazon. $16.59
9:00pm: Trying to fix my sleep with Nyquil. Let’s hope it works. I down two shots. While I’m waiting for sleep to kick in, I make a schedule for tomorrow, but don’t have high hopes. I also make a list of what I need from DAISO Japan - love their cheap organizers.
Total: $78.11

Day 7
10:30am: I get some sleep but I end up missing my morning standup...again. I thought it was at 10:30, but apparently it’s at 10am. Oops. My neighbor has texted me again - this time about not slamming the garage door, since it wakes him up...sorry!
11:00am: Compile a list of furniture I need and look at the freecycle SF groups. I see a promising looking glass coffee table, but it doesn’t have enough space for 4 people to sit at. I still have the seat cushions from the chairs, so I’m hoping if I have guests, I can use the seat cushions as floor chairs and use the coffee table as a regular table.
11:30am: I take out the some frozen galbi ribs from TJ’s to defrost for dinner.
3:00pm: Finally take a break from work and pick up a salad from my favorite salad place. I have a coupon, so it comes out to less than $5. I add a $2 tip. $4.28
4:30pm: 6000 steps later I get home. I call the speaker company because there’s a dent on the base of the speaker. After half an hour, they ask me to send them a picture with the ticket number.
5:10pm: I check my checking account - it’s below $10000. I schedule a transfer from my savings account to bring it back up to avoid fees.
8:30pm: I give in and order Mexican food after working for a couple of hours. $17.74
Total: $22.02

Total for the week: $675.29

Food + Drink $210.52
Fun / Entertainment $25.91
Home + Health $365.65
Clothes + Beauty $0
Transport $73.21
Other $0

How do you feel about your spending?
I spent a lot. I kind of justify it because I’ve been basically living like a college student since I graduated, and a lot of these were “adult” things that most people buy when they move into a proper apartment. The eating out I don’t feel too good about - those are mostly cravings that I need to curb anyways.
The martial arts membership is pretty much unjustifiable - I haven’t gone for the last 6 months but my SO is really into it and I keep thinking we’ll go to virtual classes (and I never find the time for it). Probably not worth spending $200 a month just to not go...I’ve only done 2 classes in the last 7 months, so that’s like $700 a class? I have the equipment, so it’s a weird sunk cost fallacy.
Was this a normal week for you?
Definitely not...even this diary is more like two weeks! I had a lot of mentally terrible shit hit the fan during these weeks, so my priority was just holding it together, not really on budgeting. Even work was a struggle.
Has this inspired you to make changes or has it given you a “wow I’m doing pretty good” confidence boost?
I think something that struck me while I was writing this is that I really don’t have any kind of clear and defined budget for myself. I’ve been lucky enough to make enough money to let me “save” - but really, I just spend less than I make. Also, I cancelled that martial arts gym membership.
Is there anything you’re actively working on?
Ironically this year, I was trying to be better about spending money on myself. I don’t really do facials, nails, pedicures, massages, eating at nice places...and I can afford to. I tend not to splurge with the exception of travel - that’s my big vice, and it's usually covered by my credit card. I hit a $1MM milestone earlier this year, due to stock market craziness, so I’m kind of in a weird mid-life crisis mode.
I think I also need to focus way more on my physical health and mental health. My diet sucks, I’ve been really checked out of work lately (although it’s markedly improved after this MD, since that’s when mentally shit hit the fan).
I've also been doing a lot of self-reflection. Being 30 and hitting the financial milestone has made me start re-evaluating what I want in life and how to find out what I want in life.
Do I cruise? Start my own company? Go to grad school? Figure out my “rich life”, then continue with my current job, climbing the corporate ladder? Focus on family and relationships? Help my parents manage their properties so they finally generate revenue? If I have kids, I’ll probably need to save up much more than what I currently have, and also continue working.
Thoughts? Suggestions? Criticisms?

CBD and Palliative Care: How can CBD help Patients in Hospice?

As we age, we face a full breadth of health problems, which will cause feelings of hopelessness and angst. Especially in end-of-life care, depression and anxiety are common problems and are often missed or overlooked. It's a painful and emotional time for the patient, relatives, and caregivers. Fortunately, some resources will provide comfort and support for everybody involved. If you or a beloved are handling a terminal illness, you will probably look into every available option. In this article, we'll be discussing the role of hospice care and how cannabis can help hospice patients. Recent cannabis research focuses on the CBD compound and its medicinal effects in order to assess its utility in treating stress and anxiety. So far, the scientific results look promising.

What is CBD?

Cannabidiol (CBD) may be a present compound found within the resinous flower of cannabis, a plant with an upscale history as a drug going back thousands of years. Today the therapeutic properties of CBD are being tested and confirmed by scientists and doctors around the world. A safe, non-addictive substance, CBD, is one of the hundreds of "phytocannabinoids," unique to cannabis plants and endow the plant with its robust therapeutic profile.

What is Palliative Care?

Palliative care aims to supply comfort for a terminally ill person. The care can start anytime, but it is best to start at the diagnosis stage.
Anyone living with an acute terminal illness can investigate palliative care. These illnesses can include cancer, coronary failure, Parkinson's disease, dementia, chronic obstructive pulmonary disease, and far more.
Palliative care provides patients with the options and choices in their treatment plans. It's also helpful to an older person who is experiencing discomfort and disability towards the end of their life. The palliative care team is responsible for many aspects and struggles that the family and patient deal with such as providing emotional and practical support. When starting palliative care, the patient can do so within a hospital, house, palliative clinic, or other functional units. If the specialist believes the patient will die within six months, they qualify for hospice transition. The palliative team also intensifies comfort care.
According to the Planet Health Organization, palliative care is "an approach that improves the standard of lifetime of patients and their families facing the issues related to life-threatening illness, through the prevention and cure of suffering by means of early identification, excellent evaluation, therapy of pain, and other problems i.e. physical, psychosocial and spiritual."[1]
Palliative care surrounds end-of-life care, but a patient undergoing palliative care isn't necessarily nearing death.
Nevertheless, when a patient approaches the end-of-life stage within a hospice setting, the stress on life quality rules often get bent to fulfill a dying patient's wishes and beliefs. Dogs and family pets are welcome guests in a patient's living quarters, and a glass of wine isn't muffled if that's what the patient desires. So why not allow medical cannabis if it reduces the suffering of a dying patient?
In some states within the U.S. palliative and end-of-life care are considered a qualifying condition for medical cannabis prescriptions.

What is Hospice Care?

Hospice is medical aid focused on helping those with a terminal illness. It helps to enhance the quality of life and help address any problems they or their family face, on top of fighting the disease itself. For most, hospice is typically started when the patient has a predicted life of fewer than a year, or their health is rapidly degenerating.
In most cases, hospice care starts from a patient's home, be it their own or at a caring facility. Hospice care involves duties such as; diet counseling, medication to assist symptoms, physiotherapy, and even counseling for loved ones. It doesn't include treatment intended to cure the illness. Since hospice care started, its usage has deviated from its original primary purpose: to help those with cancer, to help look after heart conditions, dementia, stroke, and other conditions. As of 2018, half of all patients in hospice care are being treated for cancer.
Hospice and palliative care are becoming more critical due to an aging population where chronic or progressive conditions cause most deaths. For several people undergoing end-of-life care, mental disorders like depression and anxiety also are common.
Hospice care is the assistance given to patients who are nearing the end of life. Hospice is more of a conception of care rather than a therapy. It addresses the entire person instead of just the disease and improving the life quality of the patient. It supports patients and their families with a team of specialists who address things like pain, physical distress, emotional and spiritual issues.
Hospice care also supports families and caregivers during the sickness and anxiety support after the patient passes. Patients approach hospice care when their prognosis is less than six months, and other medical treatments have been attempted.
If hospice care is suggested, it doesn't mean that the patient will die in six months. It means their condition makes dying a genuine possibility. Hospice care supports a patient feel as comfortable as possible to concentrate on their primary objectives of life.
At this stage, doctors give prescriptions for everything, which leads to the side-effects of those prescriptions. To counter the side-effects, doctors again provide a prescription. For example, Ex joint pain medication results in sleeping disorder so, the doctors give you another pill for that, which leads to another side-effect which they treat with another prescription, and it goes on.
To elude this, patients can add CBD to their regimen. This will help them to reduce some of the other medications, providing them a more definite and luminous end of life experience that they can enjoy with their loved ones, rather than being in an overmedicated haze.

How Does CBD Helps Patients in Hospice Care?

Properties of CBD are believed to incorporate anticonvulsant, relaxant, anxiolytic, antioxidant, and anti-inflammatory effects. Thus, it provides benefits in treating pain, anxiety, depression, insomnia, neurological disorders, epilepsy, inflammation, and cancer and is believed to supply an overall calming effect on the central nervous system.
CBD features a vast range of uses, which will help increase the lifetime of those in hospice. Before we get into those, though, it's essential to acknowledge the recent increase in CBD support in hospice care. Both patients and physicians call for its use, with a recent survey showing overwhelming support no matter their state's legal status [2]. This pair with a previous study of patients in Washington state found high rates of cannabis use and requests by patients [3].
One of the explanations for this support is marijuana's use in cancer treatment. There are already various marijuana-based drugs to battle a number of the side effects of both the condition itself and its treatment. Studies have shown that THC, one of the most cannabinoids found in marijuana, may lower nausea in some users [4]. On top of this, CBD has also been found to be a potent antiemetic, itself coming with several other beneficial effects.
Chronic pain is another frequent problem many patients face while in hospice care, and one that's notoriously hard to assist with traditional pharmaceuticals. This type of pain is particularly common in those with degenerative conditions like Parkinson's, Alzheimer's, and fibromyalgia. During this area, both CBD and THC are found useful. Other studies have suggested adding medical marijuana to an already established analgesic drug routine. Instead of outright substitution, it's recommended that addition generate the most effective results for some people. It's been further hypothesized that adding marijuana to the patient's opioid intake may decrease tolerance and withdrawal rates [5]. Once-ineffective dosages may become useful, particularly useful in hospice care, where patients are more likely to possess a longtime drug regimen.
CBD can also be used to help with other common problems related to hospice care. A 2018 survey found improvements in fatigue, sleep problems, anxiety, and depression [6]. An equivalent survey found over a one-half increase in patients reporting their quality of life as "good" after using CBD. Therefore, some users' additional advantage ending their use of opioids shows that CBD utilization might not be limited to pain reduction. With the wide variety of CBD products available within the U.S., it's helpful for hospice nurses to possess a general understanding of the variations between products, their expected adverse effects, and whether patients are using products appropriately. Understanding these products can provide hospice staff with a more comprehensive understanding of the essential differences among the CBD products on the market and advise patients for the appropriate use.
Nevertheless, those that have used CBD have reported reductions in stress and anxiety, and therefore the cannabis industry is confident within the effects their CBD products have for medicinal purposes. It all boils right down to personal choice. CBD doesn't have mind-altering effects and thus doesn't act sort of a drug. Though, patients who are substantially against the utilization of cannabis, generally, may choose not to use cannabinoids. Hospice patients who think CBD will help relieve their stress and anxiety can try to use the CBD. If it helps, the better. Therefore, to use CBD is an entirely personal decision.

Importance of Sleep, Nutrition, and Social Activity for Patients:

Sleep is a critical, often overlooked, part of the overall health and well-being of any person. Sleep is essential as it helps the body to be recovered and ready for another day. Getting adequate rest can also help reduce unnecessary weight gain, heart failure, and prolonged-time of sickness.
There are many benefits of sleep, such as:

Better productivity and concentration
Lower weight gain risk
Better calorie regulation
Greater athletic performance
Lower risk of heart disease
More social and emotional intelligence
Preventing depression
Lower inflammation
Stronger immune system

Nutrition and hydration are basic human needs that, when handling a patient, should be the primary priority. A lack of a healthy diet will contribute to malnutrition, which in the elderly is considered a significant cause of morbidity and mortality. Clinical medical treatments will be ineffective if the patient's nutritional status is deficient or unbalanced. Hence, diet is as critical as medicine in recovering from chronic illnesses, wounds, infections, and surgical operations.
Analysis has demonstrated that social contact provides multiple opportunities for older adults. Staying socially involved and improving interpersonal relationships may help promote good physical and mental health and cognitive performance.
Patients who continue to establish close friendships and explore other means of social communication live longer than those who become alienated. Relationships and social experiences also help guard against sickness by improving your immune system.

CBD’s Impact on Sleeping and Eating:

Studies on Sleep and CBD:

Seventy-two people with anxiety and poor sleep were included in another study released in The Permanente Journal. At the onset of the research and the first-month follow-up, the researchers completed anxiety and sleep tests. 25 mg of CBD in capsule form was given to study participants. The dosage was taken at night by people who mainly had sleep complaints. The morning CBD was taken by participants who had anxiety as their primary complaint.
In 79 percent of individuals, anxiety rates decreased after the first month, and in 66 percent of the subjects, sleep ratings increased, which showed less difficulty sleeping. The findings indicate that in many of the patients, CBD reduced sleep problems. But although the decline in anxiety symptoms held constant for the remainder of the study, the sleep scores fluctuated over time [7].

Studies on CBD and Appetite:

CBD has been shown to suppress appetite on its own, causing it to stay away from CBD isolates (CBD-ONLY containing products).
However, CBD has also been shown to improve THC's effects, including its impact on appetite, rendering a combination containing both of these cannabinoids much greater at increasing overall appetite levels.
The cannabinoids, primarily THC, kickstart hunger cravings by essentially "flipping the hunger switch" in the brain [8]. It also increases ghrelin production — the hormone responsible for making us feel hungry [9].
It is why full-spectrum cannabis oils are considered to be the best. Even if the THC content is shallow, these are more effective than CBD oils without any THC at all for treating anorexia.

Is CBD the Right Choice for Hospice Patients?

Hospice care is a growing category of drugs centered on extending the lifetime of those with chronic and terminal conditions. Patients may enter hospice care because of several reasons, many of which CBD may help relieve. Chronic pain, insomnia, depression, and anxiety are common problems of those living in hospice care that CBD has found to be a better treatment. CBD can also fit into an already established drug regimen for a few users, increasing its usefulness. It's been found that patients who use CBD during hospice report better quality of life and lessened dependence on other medicines. If the patient is susceptible to heart problems, uses certain medications, or features a case history of mental disturbance, special care must be taken when administering CBD.
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Original Article can be Found Here: https://www.entouragecbd.net/post/cbd-palliative-care-hospice

Hamilton's problem with vehicle noise (modified muffler/exhaust)

**EDITED*\*
(edit notes at the top, for visibility)
EDIT 1: It's been brought to my attention that this post reflects a relatively privileged perspective (given the more serious problems so many people are facing), and that some of the language used is immature and unhelpful. I'd like to acknowledge that both of these are true. In the case of the language, I believe (hope) that it reflects temporary frustration more than actual immaturity. So while I stand behind the tone and general content of the post, I am somewhat ashamed of some of the wording choices.
EDIT 2: Regarding "car culture" — I have no problem with it, and in certain ways it's quite interesting. I will admit to not properly understanding it. But my view is that we shouldn't need to. Most of us don't understand knitting culture or beekeeping culture or skydiving culture either, but this lack of understanding isn't problematic, as none of these cultures are nonconsensually injected into our daily lives. Car culture is a bit different in that sense. So the argument is not against car culture, or even against the simple existence of modified vehicles; it's against selfish behaviour, and it's about the impact of this behaviour. (For this reason as well, whether an exhaust system is 'legal' or not has no bearing on the discussion.) And the post speculates (perhaps misguidedly; Hanlon's Razor likely applies here), about the reasons for the behaviour.

-----
Oh, this may go a bit long. (TL;DR at the end.) Apologies for length, but I have so many thoughts & questions about the vehicle noise problem in this city. (And an unreasonable amount of free time today.)
The proposed initiative by city council to target drivers with modified mufflers/exhaust systems is long overdue. It's a step in the right direction. But the actual problem starts long before a vehicle's exhaust is actually modified, and this is what I hope to end up discussing here, along with whether or not it's a real problem for Hamilton. (Although the adult discussion follows a bit of a rant, if you'll entertain it...)

Example: HDB
In our neighbourhood, there is one guy a few of us have come to refer to as the Head Dbag (HDB), if you'll forgive the salty (while perfectly fitting) nomenclature. In my mind, at least, when all the DBs gather, HDB brings the meeting to order, collects DB dues, proposes key motions, reprimands lower-tier DBs for being too quiet or too thoughtful, and so on. Frankly, I don't envy the responsibility. Anyway, he is dubbed the HDB because his car is the loudest car. Excluding official vehicles with sirens and various commercial aircraft and those rock crushers used in diamond mining pits (though, to be fair, at this point we're toe-ing the 'vehicle' line pretty liberally), it is easily the loudest vehicle I have ever heard. The volume is almost magnificent in its ridiculousness. He wins. HDB completely wins.
If you live around here, you know him. You've heard him. He drives a Mustang (because of course), which he paints seasonally, likely whenever he feels his personality has gone stale. Currently bright orange, though in the past it's been bright blue, black/white, camouflage (because of course; war is cool), other colours. Not only will you know when he's in your neighbourhood, you'll know when he's on the nearest highway. And he gets that sweet puppy from 0 to ~90 (my guess) on the residential streets around here within about 4-5 seconds. Every single time. Really, every single time. Because true morons have this wonderful superpower — they're capable of being entertained endlessly by the exact same thing. I can only imagine he plays a solitary Michael Bay movie on infinite repeat at home. Anyway, I have no idea where he goes, but I know he is needed there fast. I imagine either Taco Bell coupons are expiring faster and faster these days, or the courthouse closes early a lot.
Hamilton cops of reddit: If you want to bag (or re-bag) a prime DB trophy for your mantle, sit near the intersection of Mt. Albion Rd & Greenhill Ave on any weekday between 7:30 & 8am. I can guarantee a speeding violation, and likely a number of other violations as well. Listen for the sound of an angry, coked-up lawnmower. When you hear it, you'll have at least 3 minutes to compose yourself, prep the radar gun, stretch your ticket-writing hand, and so forth. Then be on the lookout for a bright orange prosthetic ween in the shape of a Mustang. You're welcome. (And then return the next morning to repeat, please.) This guy doesn't strike me as the fast-learnin' sort, but once we get up into double-digit demerit point level, the light may start to dawn.
Anyway, I digress. This isn't really about HDB. He's one of hundreds of such dimwits in the city. So it's about the problem in general. And in fairness, I suppose we should assign these people a better acronym. Perhaps not all of them are true, card-carrying DBs? We'll use the less judgmental GwMM ("Guys with Modified Mufflers").

Are you a GwMM? So many questions...
(if you're not a GwMM, scroll way down below for the adult discussion)
Let's turn the tables for a moment. A genuine curiosity: GwMM, if you lived next door, and I consistently practised my yodeller's rendition of Mongolian throat-singing at 180dB, outside every morning at 3am, what would you do? What would you want me to do?
Really, try to imagine it: You've just polished off the last Coors. You've flipped off the TV after watching the evening's top-rated MMA fight. You're all caught up on your Fox News feed. Your tracksuit and gold chains have been removed and set aside for the night. You're exhausted. You finally drift off to sleep, and are mid-dream (you know, the one where you're being interviewed on E! for your world-renowned pickup artistry skills), and then BAM! — I interrupt you at 180dBs. Every f-ing night. Sincerely — what's your move? What would you do? Who would you talk to about it the next day? Which authorities would you involve? Something must be done, right? It can't go on!
If you're one of these people, a GwMM, do you... almost get it? Kinda-sorta?

(Yes, I know most of the actual GwMMs won't read any of this, or will read it but won't be able to absorb it. But maybe it reaches just one GwMM, a guy who's modified his exhaust but is otherwise on the fence between being a normal adult and a flagrant purveyor of doucheism. Maybe just one person.)

GwMMs, you should understand something — the impression you think you're creating, and the one you're actually delivering, are vastly different. As you drive by, here is what most of us think about you (a non-exhaustive list):

You need attention. This is the easy one, the most obvious, and I would think the most inarguable. You need it badly enough to actually pay for it — with your time or your money, or both. Those mufflers aren't free, and they don't install themselves. Know that the need for attention is a weakness. Watch American Gangster. There's a great scene in which Denzel's charater explains that "the loudest guy in the room is the weakest guy in the room". It's a weakness because you're always in need of something from other people: you need their approval. But in your case, GwMM, you don't just need it from your family or friends or colleagues, which is relatively normal; you need it from absolute strangers, from everyone you pass as you drive. This is unbearably sad. The need for attention makes you desperate, and therefore to be pitied.
You're compensating for someting. This one writes itself. You may or may not be. But you should know that many of us strongly suspect this, as you drive by. I would bet on it being one of the highest factors. In fact, I bet it would have actual predictive value in a formula. The higher the number, the more likely to be a GwMM:
- none (i.e., female) = 0 (I know, I know; more on this below)
- large = 1
- medium = 2
- small = 3
- teensy = 4
- "button on a fur coat" = 5
You're emotionally under-developed. You are using toddler-level social signaling tactics. You're flashing your loud, shiny toys around in a bid to earn friends or mates. Trust us on this: As you roar by, there are precisely zero women thinking, "Ooooooh, get me an Uber, I am just way too wet to walk home right now. I need to bear your offspring! Enter me now, I require your seed!!" And so on. Also, no man is thinking, "I need to be friends with that guy, like, yesterday!" You may, admittedly, be impressing the odd teenager.
Your relationship, if you have one, isn't going well. Because of a combination of the three points above, it simply can't be. When you're that self-focused, there's no mindspace left to give your partner what they need. When your need for attention is that high, any relationship will be lopsided. And in general, most halfway intelligent women have little interest in being with emotionally needy, socially embryonic 'men'.
You're uneducated (or under-educated). There is nothing inherently wrong with this. I'm sure you've done the best you could. But it's not something most people are eager to shout from the rooftops (/tailpipe). And feel free to be angry about the assumption, and the stereotype, but let's be honest — your average pediatrician, for example, isn't driving a Civic Type R with a plastic 6ft spoiler and 150dB-tuned exhaust, or a lifted pickup with six chrome XXL tailpipes for "performance"\. We know you could tell us your favourite athlete but not your favourite author or documentarian. We know you think a Monster Energy Drink and a hot dog is a valid adult meal. In short, you're a halfwit. And halfwits, well, tend to be poorly educated. And again, while there's nothing *necessarily wrong with this, it's a sad thing to want everyone to know, as you drive around the city.
- \* I hate this argument. GwMMs, you can stop pretending you need the modified exhaust for better "performance". I don't doubt the improved airflow can maximize horsepower or whatever, but for what purpose? You're not rescuing a herd of Chechen refugee infants from a burning orphanage; you're trying to meet your bros at Jack Astor's before all the 'good' sides get defrosted and sold out.
You're probably not doing well financially. This is related to the one above, but isn't quite the same. When you put a $2,000 aftermarket exhaust on a car worth $8,000, you're signalling to most of us that you're probably a financial moron. When you drive a lifted $90,000 truck with an obnoxiously loud exhaust, we know you've financed it at 7.99% over 96 months and can barely afford the payments (and we think that before we see you idling it outside Cash Money) — because low-grade behaviour in general usually correlates with dumb financial behaviour. As with the item above, doing poorly in this area shouldn't be a source of shame for anyone, but you should know that when you rev by at 150dB, you're undermining your attempt to look 'money' in that $90k truck.
You're on your way to do something imbecilic. I promise you, no one is left with the impression that you're racing off to perform surgery, or to re-test your lab results, or to refine the last chapter of your treatise on human rights abuses in Malaysia. We know you're racing off to pick up Skyy vodka and a tub of hair gel.
You're an asshole. Or, less dramatically, but no less critically, you're selfish. This should bother you more than it might. If you can't stretch cognitively enough to see why this is a bad thing for others, and for society at large, consider that you'll probably (continue to) have a terrible, striving, unfulfilling life. Until you calm down and recalibrate your viewpoint, you will remain in that desperate, cringy mode in which most assholes of a certain particularly douchey variety seem to be stuck. And yes, as you scream by, we all know you're in that place — that hustling, scraping, gonna-get-mine place that almost no one ever climbs out of. So you're sad. A sad, unenviable asshole.
(non-GwMMs, have I missed anything?)

And again: These impressions created with your loud 'performance' exhaust would otherwise be fine, not so bad at all, in fact, if you weren't trying so goddamned hard to create impressions painfully opposite to most of these. So you're wasting your time, energy, and money. Sad.

GwMMs — more to consider:

Someone woke up today and thought, "During the peace summit this afternoon, we must tailor our opening commentary so as not to alienate our counterparts in Belgium, the country closest to switching their vote on this important resolution."
Someone woke up today and thought, "The protocol for freezing leftover genetic material in our lab needs to change. The last experiment's results were invalidated due to the material being degraded just a hint beyond the acceptable temperature threshold, and this is an unacceptable waste."
Someone woke up today and thought, "The code needs to be rewritten to use atomic rather than non-atomic loads; the thread calling the primary variable is competing with a thread on a different core."
Someone woke up today and thought, "If we're to have any chance of enacting behavioural change in this patient group, we'll need to examine the collective antecedents of their self-efficacy beliefs."
You woke up today and thought, "I'm gonna be the loudest, fastest fuckin' guy on the way to the jobsite! (/mall/salesroom/etc.) They'll all fuckin' know who the boss is."

You see the difference, right?
You're a moron.
But that's not even the core problem. The core problem is one of focus: Most of the thoughts above are about solving a problem, making a contribution, being an adult member of society. Your tiny-brained thoughts are mainly about yourself, about getting yourself noticed. They're low-level thoughts.
You probably drove past people today in your screaming micropenis-mobile who were thinking thoughts just like those above. You didn't notice them, though — in part because your brain was occupied with whether they were noticing you — but more to the point, because many of them were driving practical, nondescript, quiet cars. But why? Why would they do this? How could they make this mistake? Don't they know they should drive the best, fastest, loudest phuckin' ride they can get their hands on?? They must not be able to afford one, right?! Er, no. It's because they don't source their self-esteem from their vehicle. You didn't notice them because they don't need you to notice them. They're not as weak as you are. And they have adult brains, which allow them to focus on others at least as much as on themselves. Hopefully you'll get there someday.

(Alright. At this point if you're a GwMM and you're still pretty sure of yourself, and aren't convinced that you are indeed a low-functioning twat, I beg you, look up the Dunning-Kruger Effect.)

Non-GwMMs:
Why should the rest of us care, beyond the temporary bouts of noise? Is this a real problem for Hamilton?
I think it is. The Y-Combinator venture capitalist and essayist Paul Graham has an interesting piece about the "message" a city sends. For example, New York, by its collective actions and values and signals, 'tells' you that you should be richer; Los Angeles tells you that you should be in better shape; San Francisco tells you that you should be healthier and/or in tech; Cambridge (MA) tells you that you should be smarter. And so on. Part of the impact of these messages is that citizens will naturally tend toward the mean of that message over time — and so a city as a whole continually becomes "more like itself".
I've lived in a fair number of cities, in Canada and abroad; some sophisticated, some less so. I had so hoped Hamilton would be "the one". But it can't be, at least not for me. Hamilton's ADBpM (Audible Dbag per Minute rate) is comparably quite high — I'd peg it at somewhere between 1.5 and 2.5, in most areas of the city. In other words, the sound of an obnoxious, low-grade human, usually a GwMM, enters my auditory field roughly twice per minute. At this rate, it becomes a 'constant', something reliable; a perpetual reminder of the type of people I'm surrounded by. And so at least for those attuned to it, Hamilton's tone is largely 'off', at least for the city it claims to want to become. The message it sends, as Paul Graham might put it, through its ADBpM and a few other factors, is to be tougher, louder, more aggressive. The GwMMs embody and reinforce that message.
Now, some of you may be proud of that. (Though I'm guessing anyone who's read this far is likely not.) I've noticed a trend here, a collective defense mechanism really, of referring to the city as "gritty", or "down-to-earth", or (my favourite so far) as "keeping it real". None of these are proper synonyms for the aggressive dudebro culture incubated and enabled here. The proper term would be 'dumb', or better, 'underdeveloped'. The feel is of being in a cognitively adolescent place. It's obviously nothing to be proud of. The cities that prize blatant aggression are those in which no developed person wants to live. Fort McMurray and Gary (IN) come to mind — teeming jockstraps of aggression, with predictable results — higher rates of alcohol & drug abuse, domestic violence, and violent crime in general. Any thinking person wants their city to have the opposite of these phenomena.
The GwMMs don't, of course, have these effects directly. But they do reinforce the vibe. And if aggression and/or general doucheyness is the (or a) pervasive vibe in Hamilton, this is a giant turn-off for all sorts of people who might otherwise move here and make a contribution. So, intelligent, progressive contributors will leave, or will avoid the city. Not all, but certainly some. Possibly many. And the Troglodytes will stay, because they feel at home, especially as their behaviour goes unchecked. The city may thereby, over time, become more like itself.
Of course, Hamilton is in many other ways a wonderful place. But in any "on the cusp" or "on the way up" or "improving" city (do we agree that's what it is?), there is always a sort of invisible balance between civility and rampant douchebaggery that could tip in either direction. And the tipping factors aren't always perfectly obvious. Large, dramatic factors like affordable housing and business grants and infrastructure get most of the attention, as rightly they should. But resolving a mishmash of seemingly small other factors, of which I think the GwMM issue is one, can have a large impact as well.
All of this to pose a serious question: As mature, intelligent Hamiltonians (non-GwMMs/DBs), what should we actually do about the problem? Do you think Council's initiative will make a difference? If not, what would you propose? A coordinated social-shaming effort? Vigilante action? Nothing?Something else?

** GwMM HELP SECTION *\*
Are you a GwMM enraged or offended by this post? Allow me to assist. To save you time, I've taken the liberty of crafting several predictable answers, and translating them into the dudebro vernacular. Modify or copy & paste directly, as you prefer:

"go back for Toronto you leftweng snoeflake, fuck yor self!"
"did you even look at a Mustang b4 you post this LMAO!!"
"elistist phart, prolly wear a covid mask too"
"I get 468 HP in my ride bro you cant compeet your golf cart sucks ass lol"

Okay, this did go a tad long.
TL:DR - When you modify your muffleexhaust to be louder than the original, you reveal to most of us that you're weak, sad, likely mini-penis'd, un- or under-educated, emotionally underdeveloped, lack a personality, and are generally a selfish asshole. Of course, if this is the impression you're going for, by all means, continue.
TL;DR, polite version - We really do have a problem with vehicle noise pollution in this city. What should we do about it?
TL;DR, honest version - I have a recurring dream wherein I learn that all of the clinically retarded philistines in this city have somehow passed away, all at the same time, each by crashing their [Mustang/Ram1500/InfinitiG35*/CivicTypeetc.] into a separate lamp post. If your catruck/SUV/etc is purposely extra loud, you are a certifiable Grade-A douche, and you should be aware that you are among the lowest-functioning members of society.

\* about which — what a shock to learn that that poor woman and her three daughters were killed in Brampton by a 20-year-old male in a bright blue Infiniti G35 with black rims and blacked-out windows. I know I was shocked. At first I guessed maybe a 60-ish woman in a Corolla. But no — I was way off. Incredibly, young guy in a modified Infiniti G35. (Worthless douche, may he rot in prison with others of his ilk.)

- - - - -
Footnotes I'll later regret:

Motorcycles — In my head somehow, the motorcycles are a separate issue, despite often being even louder than the modified cars & trucks. It's an old, embedded culture, with the choppeHarley-type bikes typically being ridden by diabetic old men. That fight is lost. That group is largely beyond change, so it's a waiting game (for a traffic accident or lung cancer or cirrhosis or the elegant cascade of symptoms that comprise metabolic syndrome, or a nursing home; whichever). This, and I suspect many cops are (reasonably?) fearful of pulling these guys over.
The "police crackdown on yahoos" — Another reason I'm less than optimistic about this working is because I suspect a Venn diagram of cops and GwMMs may be narrower than we'd like. Dudebro culture in both camps.
The gender thing... <giant sigh> It appears that a few people in earlier discussions have managed to contort their thinking enough to view this issue through a 'gender-equality' lens, as they no doubt view virtually every issue these days. It's not that this isn't adorable; it most certainly is. But it distracts, and threatens to prevent us from getting to the root of the problem. The 'data' aren't hidden, in this case — just look in the cars, and use your counting skills. This is overwhelmingly a guy thing. These are mostly males (or if you prefer, individuals who would appear to be of the sort that traditionally possess a penis) and are usually on the younger side. As humans we are pattern-spotters; we are hard-wired to spot patterns in our environment, in order to make sense of it, and to reduce cognitive load. We can't help it. So yes, most of us will notice that the loudest, fastest cars are driven by traditional males. If you claim not to have noticed this, I have a polygraph machine here and $10,000 with your name on it, should you hardly move the needle when I ask whether you've noticed it. You've noticed it. And (traditionally-)male insecurity leading to aggression is a well-known, well-studied problem. But, reasonably enough, you may point out that male vs. female isn't really the issue. And I would agree. Masculinity, specifically toxic masculinity, as one of our councillors pointed out, is more to the point. I would agree with that as well. But it so happens that most toxic masculine behaviour is exhibited by those who are traditionally male. Is this really a controversial statement?? Will knowing it (under the decidedly safe assumption that it is true) help with vehicle volume enforcement? No, and nor should it. Let's target the behaviour, not the driver, when the behaviour happens. But might knowing (acknowledging) the heavy male-masculine correlation help in getting to the root causes of the aggressive, asocial behaviour, possibly before that behaviour occurs? I think it might, as it hints at who may require help/treatment/intervention/education/etc. We have neither the time nor the resources to address the problem entirely at random, in the name of political correctness.

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