southsamurai

joined 2 years ago
MODERATOR OF
[–] southsamurai 1 points 27 minutes ago

Honestly, the perks were pretty damn intangible. Contacts with other caregivers and providers was the most useful one. Secondary, you build up community connections. There's people in my area that have gone out of their way to help me decades after I took care of their family member. I'm still friends with some.

At one point, I worked for the home health company that was a branch of the hospital, soi had acces to their medical library, and could attend seminars and lectures that would normally be only for enrolled students (teaching hospital).

The contacts I made, back in the early 2ks, allowed me a chance to interview pathologists, coroners and medical examiners for a book I was planning to write.

So, I guess that's more tangible than I thought lol.

But for me, I just loved being the guy that got to do the job. I was never happy it needed doing, but if it did need doing, at least I got to get in there. Since other parts of the job were a bit more difficult, having a patient that I was going to help heal was also a major boost and helped stave off burnout. Sometimes, no matter how well you handle end of life care, or chronic conditions, it grinds at you that the case only ends with death, or some other less pleasant outcome.

But wound care? 95%, you do the job and when the case ends it's because the wound is gone, and that feeling is like crack. You get little hits along the way as the wound improves, where you get to tell the patient how much has improved, that the infection is gone, or that it shrank over the weekend. But that big hit where you get to say "I won't be here tomorrow because you don't need me" holy crap is that magic. I'd ride home smiling and elated.

[–] southsamurai 2 points 40 minutes ago

Because they're tiny. Some are invisible without magnification. Even the bigger ones are smaller than a grain of rice, and an unusually small grain at that.

All it takes is walking through dirt that's been exposed to something infected. It doesn't even have to be where an animal poops directly on the spot, some eggs can handle being washed away during rain to somewhere else. Which means that even pavement isn't completely risk free where avoiding bare ground would help.

You ever watch crime shows where they bring up Locard's principle? The idea is that no matter where you go or what you do, you will transfer something from one place to the next. That something may be indistinguishable from the environment, but we're swimming through clouds of dust and microbes every step we take.

Every step you take, barefoot or shod, you're in contact with something. Teeny tiny pieces will be picked up. It may fall off the very next step, or a dozen later, but you're carrying things along, even on the slickest, smoothest shoes. There's little microscopic textures that grab things.

An egg for a parasite is usually going to be great at sticking to things. That's how they find new hosts. Some of them can survive for scary amounts of time in fairly difficult conditions.

The question isn't whether or not you've ever carried something like that into your house, it's how many and how often.

[–] southsamurai -1 points 8 hours ago

Well, aren't you just a ray of sunshine. Answered my question at least

[–] southsamurai 2 points 8 hours ago

Masturbate to it.

Either you'll get a new fetish, or find a new level of rejection. Either way, you win.

I'm only joking a little.

The point is that you'll get over it eventually. Everyone that runs across their parents naked or fucking gets over it at some point. Sometimes it takes growing the fuck up to get there, but that is what it is.

The sooner you stop letting yourself think it's some kind of big deal, the sooner it'll stop feeling like a big deal.

[–] southsamurai 6 points 10 hours ago

Pandas

x-post from /u/99trumpets (original post)

"Biologist here with a PhD in endocrinology and reproduction of endangered species. I've spent most of my career working on reproduction of wild vertebrates, including the panda and 3 other bear species and dozens of other mammals. I have read all scientific papers published on panda reproduction and have published on grizzly, black and sun bears.

Panda Rant Mode engaged: THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH THE GIANT PANDA. Wall o' text of details:

• In most animal species, the female is only receptive for a few days a year. This is the NORM, not the exception, and it is humans that are by far the weird ones. In most species, there is a defined breeding season, females usually cycle only once, maybe twice, before becoming pregnant, do not cycle year round, are only receptive when ovulating and typically become pregnant on the day of ovulation. For example: elephants are receptive a grand total of 4 days a year (4 ovulatory days x 4 cycles per year), the birds I did my PhD on for exactly 2 days (and there are millions of those birds and they breed perfectly well), grizzly bears usually 1-2 day, black bears and sun bears too.

In the wild this is not a problem because the female can easily find, and attract, males on that 1 day: she typically knows where the nearest males are and simply goes and seeks then out, or, the male has been monitoring her urine, knows when she's entering estrus and comes trotting on over on that 1 day, easy peasy. It's only in captivity, with artificial social environments where males must be deliberately moved around by keepers, that it becomes a problem.

• Pandas did not "evolve to die". They didn't evolve to breed in captivity in little concrete boxes, is all. All the "problems" people hear about with panda breeding are problems of the captive environment and true of thousands of other wild species as well; it's just that pandas get media attention when cubs die and other species don't. Sun bears won't breed in captivity, sloth bears won't breed in captivity, leafy sea dragons won't breed in captivity, Hawaiian honeycreepers won't breed in captivity, on and on.

Lots and lots of wild animals won't breed in captivity. It's particularly an issue for tropical species since they do not have rigid breeding seasons and instead tend to evaluate local conditions carefully - presence of right diet, right social partner, right denning conditions, lack of human disturbance, etc - before initiating breeding. Pandas breed just fine in the wild. Wild female pandas produce healthy, living cubs like clockwork every two years for their entire reproductive careers (typically over a decade).

• Pandas also do just fine on their diet of bamboo, since that question always comes up too. They have evolved many specializations for bamboo eating, including changes in their taste receptors, development of symbiosis with lignin-digesting gut bacteria (this is a new discovery), and an ingenious anatomical adaptation (a "thumb" made from a wrist bone) that is such a good example of evolutionary novelty that Stephen Jay Gould titled an entire book about it, The Panda's Thumb. They represent a branch of the ursid family that is in the middle of evolving some incredible adaptations (similar to the maned wolf, a canid that's also gone mostly herbivorous, rather like the panda). Far from being an evolutionary dead end, they are an incredible example of evolutionary innovation.

Who knows what they might have evolved into if we hadn't ruined their home and destroyed what for millions of years had been a very reliable and abundant food source. Yes, they have poor digestive efficiency (this always comes up too) and that is just fine because they evolved as "bulk feeders", as it's known: animals whose dietary strategy involves ingestion of mass quantities of food rather than slowly digesting smaller quantities. Other bulk feeders include equids, rabbits, elephants, baleen whales and more, and it is just fine as a dietary strategy - provided humans haven't ruined your food source, of course.

Population wise, pandas did just fine on their own too (this question also always comes up) before humans started destroying their habitat. The historical range of pandas was massive and included a gigantic swath of Asia covering thousands of miles. Genetic analyses indicate the panda population was once very large, only collapsed very recently and collapsed in 2 waves whose timing exactly corresponds to habitat destruction: the first when agriculture became widespread in China and the second corresponding to the recent deforestation of the last mountain bamboo refuges.

• The panda is in trouble entirely because of humans. Honestly I think people like to repeat the "evolutionary dead end" myth to make themselves feel better: "Oh, they're pretty much supposed to go extinct, so it's not our fault." They're not "supposed" to go extinct, they were never a "dead end," and it is ENTIRELY our fault.

Habitat destruction is by far their primary problem. Just like many other species in the same predicament - Borneo elephants, Amur leopard, Malayan sun bears and literally hundreds of other species that I could name - just because a species doesn't breed well in zoos doesn't mean they "evolved to die"; rather, it simply means they didn't evolve to breed in tiny concrete boxes.

Zoos are extremely stressful environments with tiny exhibit space, unnatural diets, unnatural social environments, poor denning conditions and a tremendous amount of human disturbance and noise. tl;dr - It's normal among mammals for females to only be receptive a few days per years; there is nothing wrong with the panda from an evolutionary or reproductive perspective, and it's entirely our fault that they're dying out. /rant.

• Edit: OP did not say anything wrong but other comments were already veering into the "they're trying to die" bullshit and it pissed me off. (Sorry for the swearing - it's just so incredibly frustrating to see a perfectly good species going down like this and people just brushing them off so unjustly) Also - I am at a biology conference (talking about endangered species reproduction) and have to jump on a plane now but can answer any questions tomorrow."

[–] southsamurai 8 points 15 hours ago (2 children)

Well, a lot of it comes down to what's on the floor, and how aware you are of risks

Truth be told, a pill isn't going to pick up anything that's going to hurt you in the amount of time it takes to pick it up, unless you're in a location that is highly contaminated. And if you're in that kind of place, you wouldn't be taking a pill inside to begin with, you'd be geared up.

But, floors are what we walk on. When we walk, every step picks things up, and the next puts some of it down.

As such, anything could be there, from something as innocuous as sand to as bad as the eggs of a parasite. If someone isn't following good practices and is walking around in the wrong places they could track in anything, even crazy shit in a hypothetical, like uranium dust or whatever.

Your average household though, you're maybe going to be dealing with mild chemicals in small amounts, some e-coli, maybe some tetanus, and the usual assortment of bacteria, fungi and particulates that are everywhere anyway. So, if what you drop isn't going to carry enough of any of that into your mouth to disturb the microflora already present, it won't matter.

Thing is, the wetter something is, the more it's going to pick up, and the more likely it is to carry it to your mouth. A pill isn't picking much up, and some will fall off. A piece of bologna is picking up a lot and it'll stick.

So, it's all about risk management. There's some really dangerous stuff on even very clean floors sometimes. If you're walking in and out a lot, the risks go up that something bad will be there. Me? I'm at least going to thoroughly wash that bologna if I starving and I can't afford to replace it. Then cook it to hopefully kill anything left behind. But a pill? I'd have done exactly what you did because the risk is so low it isn't worth worrying about.

[–] southsamurai 1 points 16 hours ago (2 children)

And?

You act like my approval or disapproval of their hobbies, lifestyle, or whatever is supposed to change basic decency. It doesn't.

There are limits to what I'll call someone for sure. I'm not calling anyone master. Beyond that, it's just good manners to try and call people what they prefer, within the limits of our own capabilities. DR knows my brain is fucked and it would make it a nightmare to have a conversation if I tried to use the person-independent neopronoun reliably, so they don't give me shit about screwing up.

That's basic decency.

If I'm talking to a preacher and they prefer to be called reverend, I'll call them that, and that's someone who talks to their imaginary sky friend on a daily basis. Wanting to fuck a dragon isn't any weirder than that. It's just basic decency.

Out here irl, people sometimes use my middle name instead of my first. Usually because they know a family member that talked about me. But I don't let anyone but family use my middle name. The people that refuse to honor that are assholes, and I have nothing else to do with them. Because it's just basic decency.

If DR was wanting to be called furher, or messiah, I can see refusing to use their preferred terms. But they aren't.

And it doesn't even matter if they were trolling because someone else's bad actions aren't an automatic excuse to be an asshole too.

What kind of person do you want to be? The sort that errs on the side of kindness and manners, or the sort that's an asshole? That's what it comes down to.

[–] southsamurai 2 points 17 hours ago (4 children)

Well, surr.

But if you aren't respecting people's pronouns, you're an asshole, so the choice comes with that

[–] southsamurai 4 points 18 hours ago

They would contact the rail companies and ask travel be stopped, if possible. Otherwise they just run it across and hope. There are devices that can do the job, but my cousin says he's never seen any on an engine.

[–] southsamurai 3 points 18 hours ago (1 children)

Fuck me. I totally missed it.

Now what am I supposed to do do?

[–] southsamurai 94 points 18 hours ago

If you're dating for a year and a half and you don't know if it's serious, it ain't.

However, if your partner's kid is going giving you a mom/dad day anything, the kid at least is taking it seriously, so you damn well better figure it out fast

[–] southsamurai 30 points 18 hours ago

Jfc, that group goes hard

 

Brand new to me, never heard the band before. But I'll be deep diving for sure

 

No, the title isn't a typo.

Really, it isn't

22
submitted 1 week ago* (last edited 6 days ago) by southsamurai to c/[email protected]
 

The ocean breeze must have picked up and turned those sand dunes into a sand storm

 

Gaht dayum! That right there is some real shit.

 

March forth!

 

Not as heavy as the usual offerings here, but a decent track. The video is better than the song tbh, but the song is decent. Not their best, far from bottom tier musically.

3
Purple gorilla (self.shaggydogstories)
submitted 3 weeks ago* (last edited 3 weeks ago) by southsamurai to c/[email protected]
 

There are many versions of this, some better or worse.

Once upon a time, there was a man who decided he wanted to get away for a bit. So his filled up his truck with gas and filled his motorcycle with gas and put it on the back of truck. So he gets in the truck  and he drives and he drives  and he drives and he drives and he drives and he drives and he drives and he drives and he drives and he drives and he drives  and he drives and he drives and he drives and he drives and he drives and he drives and he drives and he drives and he drives until he runs out of gas.

Then he takes the motorcycle off the motorcycle off the back of the truck and he rides and he rides and he rides and he rides and he rides and he rides and he rides and he rides and he rides and he rides and he rides and he rides and he rides and he rides and he rides and he rides and he rides and he rides and he rides and he rides and he rides until the motorcycle runs out of gas.

So he gets off and he walks and he walks and he walks and he walks and he walks and he walks and he walks and he walks and he walks and he walks and he walks and he walks and he walks and he walks and he walks and he walks and he walks and he walks and he walks and he walks until he can't walk anymore. He reaches a hotel and walks in to ask if he can have a room.

"Sure," says the manager, "but I have to tell you one thing." So they go into the living room where there's a table. He takes the candlesticks off the table, the chairs away from the table, the table off the rug, and the rug off the floor. There's a trapdoor there, which opens to reveal a long flight of steps.

So they climb and they climb and they climb and they climb and they climb and they climb and they climb and they climb until they're down the stairs. They're now in a long tunnel, so they walk and they walk and they walk and they walk and they walk  and they walk  and they walk  and they walk  and they walk until they reach a wooden door. He picks the key up off the floor, unlocks the door, opens the door, goes through the door, locks the door, and puts the key back on the floor.

And then they walk  and they walk and they walk and they walk and they walk and they walk and they walk and they walk and they walk until they reach a metal door. He picks the key up off the floor, unlocks the door, opens the door, goes through the door, locks the door, and puts the key back on the floor. There are two green hills, so they walk and they walk and they walk and they walk and they walk and they walk and they walk over the two green hills. They finally reach a clearing with a table. On the table is a cage, and in the cage is a purple gorilla.

"Whatever you do," the manager says, "don't touch the purple gorilla." And so they turn around and they walk and they walk and they walk and they walk and they walk and they walk over the two green hills. Then they reach the metal door. And do everything backwards. (Note: Keep telling it here to annoy people. I just don't feel like typing it.) So, the man is lying in his room later and thinks, "You know, I wonder why I'm not allowed to touch the purple gorilla."

So he goes into the living room. He takes the candlesticks off the table, the chairs away from the table, the table off the rug, and the rug off the floor. And he climbs and he climbs and he climbs and he climbs and he climbs and he climbs and he climbs and he climbs down the stairs and he walks and he walks and he walks and he walks and he walks and he walks until he reaches the wooden door. He picks the key up off the floor, unlocks the door, opens the door, goes through the door, locks the door, and puts the key back on the floor. And then he walks and he walks and he walks and he walks and he walks and he walks and he walks until he reaches the metal door. He picks the key up off the floor, unlocks the door, opens the door, goes through the door, locks the door, and puts the key back on the floor. Then he walks and he walks and he walks and he walks and he walks and he walks and he walks over the two green hills until he reaches the purple gorilla.

He reaches in and pokes it. The gorilla starts going crazy in the cage. It starts thrashing about before suddenly breaking it open. So the man turns and he runs and he runs and he runs and he runs and he runs and he runs and he runs and he runs and he runs and he runs and he runs over the two green hills. He reaches the metal door, and he picks the key up off the floor, unlocks the door, opens the door, goes through the door, closes the door, locks the door, and puts the key back on the floor. He starts walking away, thinking there's no way the gorilla can get through a metal door, before he hears a 'BOOM' behind him.

The gorilla broke down the door! So he runs and he runs and he runs and he runs and he runs and he runs and he runs and he runs until he reaches the wooden door. He pick the key up off the floor, unlocks the door, opens the door, and runs through it, figuring that the gorilla would be able to get through a wooden one. He runs and he runs and he runs and he runs and he runs and he runs and he runs and he runs and he runs and he runs until he gets to the stairs and he climbs and he climbs and he climbs and he climbs and he climbs and he climbs and he climbs and he climbs until he gets back to the living room. He slams the trapdoor shut, puts the rug on the floor, the table on the rug, the chairs up to the table, and the candlesticks on the table. He walks back to his room, hoping the gorilla wouldn't be able to get through. He goes in, and finds the purple gorilla in his room.

So he runs and he runs and he runs and he runs and he runs and he runs and he runs and he runs and he runs and he runs and he runs and he runs and he runs and he runs and he runs and he runs until he reaches his motorcycle, which has magically been refilled with gas. He gets on it and he rides and he rides and he rides and he rides and he rides and he rides and he rides and he rides and he rides and he rides and he rides and he rides until he reaches his truck, which has also been magically refilled with gas.

He gets in the truck and he drives and he drives and he drives and he drives and he drives and he drives and he drives and he drives and he drives and he drives and he drives and he drives and he drives and he drives and he drives until he runs out of gas. And he runs and runs and runs, with the gorilla still following... After a while, he starts to think, "This gorilla is going to chase me until I die. I might as well stop and let him catch me." So he slows down and comes to a stop, turning to face it. It still runs towards him, but slows down once it notices the man has stopped. Finally, it walks up to the man, taps his shoulder, and says, "You're it."

 

!try it. One means something adds up to an amount, the other means to wake up, and the emphasis is different between them!<

 

Not necessarily the best Alice ever, but pretty fucking good anyway

7
submitted 1 month ago* (last edited 1 month ago) by southsamurai to c/[email protected]
 

A bit less hard and heavy than the C/ usually goes, but pretty fucking good anyway

10
submitted 1 month ago* (last edited 1 month ago) by southsamurai to c/[email protected]
 

It's a true story. I was just reminded of part of it by a post elsewhere, and it got me thinking about the people involved and the impact it all had on me.

This seemed like a good place for it, even though it isn't really like most of the posts I see here.

Anyway.

Years and years ago, the 80s happened. I know that's hard to believe, but it did. Towards the end of it, a chain of events led to me meeting two people.

A friend of mine had the hots for this girl, a senior. We were sophomores.

That friend introduced us, and wouldn't you know it, we hit it off in the way my friend wished had happened for him. It was cool, just a bit sad for him.

This girl, it turns out, was into boys and girls. She introduced me to the person she was dating at that time. This person was, though we didn't know the terminology then, the first trans person I ever met. Now, he had been assigned female at birth, and back then said that he had been born intersex. Well, he called it something else, but I'm not going to use it here. Later on, he did say that that was more wishful thinking than reality, but that's not important.

Well, we hit it off as friends. Pretty damn good ones. Good enough to share the girl, both separately and together. The together part was really awkward and not fun for either me or him, but we made it work anyway.

Eventually, everyone realized it wasn't going to work as a three way partnership, and we were all okay with that. We stayed friends for years, with a handful of fun nights trying things out again just to see if it might be fun as we aged.


But that's not the real story.

See, in terms of me, the experimentation and self discovery wasn't just sexual. They changed me.

Before I met the girl, my familiarity with things sapphic was damn near only from erotica and skinemax movies. And I was woefully ignorant of anything else about what was then called LGB issues. I'd never met a gay guy that I knew of. Turns out I had, but they weren't out until much later.

My friends took me along to parties and places that I would never have been able to go on my own. Partially because I didn't know they existed, and partly because I was a sophomore when it all started. Your typical 15 year old isn't getting into gay bars and brunches and house parties.

But, under the aegis of these two 17 and 18 year olds, I was introduced to what did a good impression of the area's gay scene.

This meant that I was hanging out with folks of all ages, all persuasions, getting into bars and clubs and being accepted way before anyone else I knew was thinking it might be nice to go to bars and parties someday.

This may seem like a bad thing. But my friends, and their friends, looked out for me. I wouldn't have accepted any drinks because I've never liked alcohol, but nobody offered them. Nobody offered me anything but a dance until much closer to 18.

It may not be apparent how powerful that was. The acceptance. Jr high had been hell for me. I was abused, assaulted, insulted and bullied every fucking day for years. It wasn't until the last year there that I had any friends at all.

But here I was in high school, and people liked me, and were happy to see me. And all these amazing people were gay, or bi, or in drag, or trans, though nobody was using the term then and there.

I don't know if anyone that hasn't experienced that kind of cruelty and then gained the acceptance of an entire new world can get exactly how powerful that feeling is. It was transformational. I'll not saying I got along with every single person, I didn't. But they still treated me with respect and kindness, and it was obvious I was welcome there despite individuals not liking me, or vice versa.

If they hadn't given me access to that world, I may not have later on become friends with my best friend, that's still my best friend now, because there's a possibility that I wouldn't have accepted him fully when he came out. I like to think I would have, but I can't pretend I was always perfectly behaved and open minded in the early days of my introduction to gay culture. I had a lot of ignorance and some preconceptions to move past. If my best friend had been the person that was my first step in understanding such things, I might well have fucked it up and not had him in my life all these years.

And, my trans friend, he was the first person to ever teach me how to fight. You'd think with us being pretty damn country, it would have happened one way or another, but it never did. My dad, later, would tell me he was scared I might hurt somebody because I was much stronger than I realized, but that's tangential.

My trans friend had learned some martial arts and had zero fucking fear of using it. And he taught me some. Not a lot, because he was nowhere near knowing enough to really teach, but enough that I discovered I could fight if I had to. Enough that, later on, when I needed to fight better, it led to me diving into martial arts seriously for most of my twenties and up to my late thirties when disability fucked that up.

The girl that we both dated taught me I was worthy of being wanted, romantically and sexually. She taught me a lot in that regard that led to me being the kind of person that can stay friends with exes. She started me down a road to self confidence and a sense of joy with partners that was part of what my wife fell in love with.

Those two were perhaps the most influential factors that weren't relatives in me having most of the good things I've experienced in life. And I didn't make those connections until tonight. Well, this morning now lol. I can look back at all if the time I spent with them and draw a very clear line to who I am, and many of the things I hold dear.

Now, life happens, and we drifted apart. Mostly after I graduated high school and started working, but it did take a couple of years. We still run into each other, though they broke up by the mid nineties. And we say hi, and chat a little, but that's usually it.

But next time, I owe them a great big thank you

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