Our shoulder surgery is tomorrow (Oct 7th). It'll be our seventh surgery this year, and at least twelfth total. Unlike the others this year, I'm not looking forward to this one. Yes, it's important and necessary, but I've been led to believe the recovery will be harsher than the wrists and elbows. Even though we have a ways to go, our wrists and arms are currently doing a lot better than 1-2 months ago - and this surgery will set us back immediately, since we'll be in a cast again. I just learned our arrival time will be 5:30 AM, which is actually perfect, because our sleep is nocturnal right now. I also want to share what's been going on medically for the past month, because it's been a wild ride. OT OT went pretty okay, same as usual. There was a few highs and lows. I learned our grip strength has measurably improved since we started coming! That gave me some hope, even though our neck procedure left our arms and wrists in worse shape than before for a while. I was slowly but surely

CW for medical trauma Okay, fuck. Okay. Fuck. Again. I need to get this out. I need to get this out right now. I wrote about the medical trauma I lived through in my late teens in another post, but it goes further than that. For as long as I can remember, my body has not been right. Something has been wrong with it. I was always hyper-sensitive to touch. Everything hurt. In elementary school, it was so unbearable that I got into fights. And even in my youth, years and years of abuse, neglect. Being told by my family that all my sensitivities are in my head. That I'm "just sensitive". That I'm making a big deal out of nothing. I was told this by gym teachers, by staff, by other children, by my family. Nobody cared. I had constant nurse visits throughout my school life. In middle school, I had to go home sick frequently. The dickhead gym teacher turned on loud music that hurt my autism, refused to do anything to accommodate, and anytime I complained of pain, I was told, it's fine, everyo