#angina

My dearest <3

Plus a scetch i did at school-

The para attraction to Angina <- link

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Like, Gena calls him Deady dearest. That a nickname ʘ⁠‿⁠ʘ.

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As well as the fact that She loved Andy, that she fell in love with him. The goofiest goof ball.

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Like is NOBODY going to talk about that she got kissed by him! Addlist Andy capped his promise to her, witch was a joke for him at first, but for Gena... It was a gift to end all her misery (⁠༎ຶ⁠ ⁠෴⁠ ⁠༎ຶ⁠)

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Like as well as how Andy wrote her a happy birthday with his blood at the beginning of the episode.

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Ik that Andy doesn't really have feelings for her or meaby he does, but doesn't care as much about it.

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What ever it is Gena would have won fare and square, but Andy has Fuuko by his side so ofc he or should I said THEY won.

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Gena and Andy as a ship or even as of Idea of that is underrated. You know what the worst part... That when Fuuko met her in the other loop, Gena didn't know anything about Andy.... It broke my HEART 💔 ｡⁠:ﾟ⁠(⁠;⁠´⁠∩⁠`⁠;⁠)ﾟ⁠:⁠｡

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Anyways I'm getting a bit sidetracked so let's make it quick. I'll do a ship name it could be [angina] or [andy x gina] .

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Ok doki that's it I think 🤔. Till then if there is a person who likes them as a ship, cool then.

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I love anfuu it's my first favourite, now angina is my second. If you don't like this ship that's fain by me idc tbh, I just wanted to clarify some things ◉⁠‿⁠◉

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From MindJournal I found this as a meme in my FB feed today. I pondered it for a while. The thing that stuck with me was the first sentence, the question: What is my purpose in life? I think I have found it: raising my daughter, making a loving family (without yelling in the household), and now, raising awareness of Coronary Microvascular Disorders. Living to see my daughter into college. But…

"At my age, flowers scare me." —George Burns

Damn! I couldn’t stop shaking. It was cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass monkey!* I tried hugging myself, but it didn’t help much. The icy wind blew past with a shriek and a deathly caress colder than my evil stepmother’s last kiss. We slammed the front door shut and teetered forward into the frigid air,

We rolled into a frozen February for the hour-long trip to the hospital in Gainesville. Dr. M insisted that we get there early, but, I mean, getting up a four-thirty in the morning is kinda—no, it’s real early, even for a former Marine. I hadn’t had to get up this early since my days in boot camp on the rifle range at Parris Island.

Even so, I stretched a yawn and stepped carefully towards the white Colorado, taking note of the icy brick patio.

“You’d better take my arm,” I told her. June wasn’t as nimble as she used to be. We called it the Bashir shuffle, after watching an episode on Star Trek Deep Space Nine when the station’s doctor, Julian Bashir, was hexed by an alien and began to age rapidly. At the end of the episode, he was talking in a high-pitched voice and taking little tee-tiny shuffling steps. We got such a kick out of it, we named his gait the “Bashir shuffle.”

It’s not so funny now.

In any case, it was too early and too cold for a couple of old coffin-dodgers like us to be wandering around. I mean, a slip could mean a busted hip, a cracked skull, or worse. It was bad enough that I had to go so Dr. M could “take a look in there” to see what was going on.

I made a fist with my right hand and unconsciously started lightly tapping on my upper chest. I stopped for a moment to catch my balance. My heart started racing. I could feel the slowly tightening chest constriction take hold.

“Hold up a minute, Momsie.” I steadied myself against her, and she gave me a quick worried look.

It was that old familiar painful squeeze--angina.

Years ago, in the beginning, there was no pain, only an immeasurable slowing down and a faint feeling of all-encompassing tiredness. Even the smallest incline taxed my physical abilities. I hardly even noticed it at first, but then there were the episodes.

In one instance, after cutting three-fourths of the front yard, I started to feel weak. I could hardly even push the self-propelled mower or keep it in a straight line. I stopped and leaned over the handles to catch my breath. I felt faint and clutched tightly at the bar.

“Are you okay?” Momsie hooted from the porch where she had been sitting, watching.

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t answer. Suddenly I couldn’t breathe good.

She stood up and hollered for Nghia, one of my students, who was working on wooden dummies in the back. Nghia shot out the front door at the sound of urgency in her voice. He was a strapping young Vietnamese boy and always seemed to know what people were thinking by the sound in their voices.

She pointed at me and shouted, “Help him!!”

Nghia came scrambling down the hill. It looked real easy for a sixteen-year-old, but he was lanky and real strong.

He grabbed me by the shoulders with one arm and by my belt with the other as he helped me back up the driveway, through the front door, and into the recliner on the other side of the living room.

They hovered over me like a pair of helicopter parents until I felt the hotness and the pain recede out of sight into the center of my chest. The thumping was not as wild and scary as before.

“We’re taking you to the emergency room right now!” Momsie cried.

“No. Not yet. It’ll pass.”

It would take a more serious episode to break my stubbornness.

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* In the British Navy, they would stack cannonballs on a brass plate with holes (aka a monkey). If it were cold enough, the holes in the plate would contract to the point that the bottom balls could no longer rest in the holes and rolled loose, and thus the term, “it's frozen the balls off.” This became common marine terminology and morphed into sailor slang as “it’s cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass monkey” when referencing uncommonly icy weather.