ive only had manual lymphatic drainage once but i still dream about the difference it made to my pain... i try to do it at home but it isnt comparable... i think for my birthday im gonna beg my father to buy me a gift voucher or something because i am so sick of my stupid body being painful to the touch fucking everywhere
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the ignorance and denialism about lipoedema/lipidema (distinct from lymphodema, but can be comorbid) in the medical field is pretty typical of the antifatness and misogyny generally (men can get it too but it's unusual) but it really makes my blood boil anyway. Im positive my mom has it, she has every single symptom, and I'm a stereotypical stage I case (skinny people can have it it's just not as noticeable). no doctor has ever mentioned it to either of us and when I saw the dysautonomia specialist recently (not about lipoedema specifically but for a general exam) he looked me right in the face and told me a bunch of completely false information about it, including that it "does not include pain as a symptom" (it is literally a pain syndrome). information he should know better about since he has lipidema patients. I faxed him a 25 page paper after I got home, from actual lipidema researchers, which started with the sentence "lipidema is a pain syndrome" in the opening paragraph. didn't hear back of course but at least I was annoying and that's the important thing
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#throwbackthursday linkes Bild von meinem 26. Geburtstag im Sommer vor 2 Jahren! Wir haben eine große Polaroid-Wand, wo wir Fotos von besonderen Anlässen verewigen. Ich fand es besonders erschreckend, da mein Freund auf dem Foto neben mir so extrem schlank ist 🙈 ich hab immer gesagt neben ihm sehe ich aus wie ein Mini-Sumoringer 😂. Außerdem hatte ich mich an diesem Tag getraut etwas ohne Ärmel zu tragen, weil es so warm war - und habe es auf dem Foto dann direkt bereut 😦 An meinem nächsten Geburtstag werde ich mich nicht mehr schämen müssen! 💪🏼 #me #selfie #gesund #abnehmen #gesundabnehmen #abnehmen2017 #bodytransformation #transformation #eathealthy #looseweight #weightloss #abgerechnetwirdamstrand #abgerechnetwirdimbikini #fit #fitspo #Lipödem #lipodema #fightlipödem #fightlipedema #fucklipödem #fucklipoedema #lipedemafighter #liposuction #lipedema #lipedemawontwin #lipoedema #lipoedemaladies
It has been almost exactly a year since I first started to suspect that my heavy, painful legs and steadily debilitating fatigue were not just because I was a perimenopausal woman rapidly approaching 50-years-old. It has been just about a month since I got a reasonably official diagnosis from my primary care physician. I have lipedema.
In August 2024, I had a terrible reaction to poison ivy. I have always been allergic to it, but this was unlike anything I had ever happen to me. I was admittedly an idiot, pulling weeds while wearing shorts, but it was August, almost 100 degrees outside, and we had guests coming. I wasn't thinking that I needed full PPE. I was just trying not to die in the heat while I cleaned up my yard.
What started as a small sprinkling of itchy bumps behind my knees ended up as a rash that covered me from my ankles to my upper thighs. I spent most of the month of August on the sofa with my legs propped up, a bag of frozen peas on my swollen legs, trying not to go mad with the itching and pain. I watched the entire season of Dungeon Meshi and took up hand stitching hexie blocks to try to distract myself. After eight weeks, a course of prednisone and hydroxyzine, 5 bottles of calamine lotion, two cans of Dermaplast, and too many pints of ice cream to soothe my prednisone induced hunger, I healed, more or less.
In addition to an extra 10 pounds of ice-cream weight, putting me firmly over the line from overweight to obese, I was left with a swelling on my inner thigh. I was no stranger to chub rub, but this was different. It was on only one thigh and was asymmetrical, and I always gained my weight evenly.
It was lymphedema brought on by the poison ivy rash, and I was crushed. My legs have always been thick, and now on top of my fatty knees, thick calves, and lumpy thighs, I had uneven swelling on my thigh.
I started to research ways to treat lymphedema. Compression and lymphatic drainage massage were the treatments I saw recommended the most, so I dug a little deeper, and eventually I found myself in the depths of YouTube, watching various massage techniques and recommendations for compression garments. Then, I ran across a YouTube short, filmed in a doctor's office, of a woman standing in her underwear while the doctor matter of factly explained that she had signs of lipedema.
The woman looked a lot like me.
I had never heard of lipedema. I just figured I was overweight. More research, more YouTube videos, and I realized that the painful legs with swollen calves and cuffed ankles were likely the result of lipedema. I poured over Google images, and I saw women that looked like me, like my mother and my grandmother -- all with lipedema.
It was like almost 50 years of shame and frustration suddenly made sense:
Refusing to wear shorts in public through most of my teen and young adult years
Losing weight until I was x-small on the top, but still solidly medium to large on the bottom
Wondering why everyone always seemed to enjoy massages when I hated having my legs touched
Embarrassed by the mystery bruises that always seemed to show up on my legs
Never being able to find a pair of boots to fit my calves
Trousers that always were a little too tight on my calves even though they fit everywhere else.
Frequently feeling lightheaded and faint, even when I was younger and thinner
I hesitated to start this blog. It's the very last day of June. I told myself I would start posting in June since it is Lipedema Awareness Month, to put my story out there. But the days went by, and I didn't write, didn't post, even though I had set up the blog. I was afraid that I wouldn't have anything worth saying. I am still a little ashamed of my legs, and it's still hard to talk about how they look, how they feel. I had conditioned myself not to think about them, not to see them.
Then, I thought about the fact that I was able to find my diagnosis and start to manage my condition because other women shared their stories and photos and videos of their bodies, matter-of-fact and unashamed. I figured I would tell the story of my diagnosis in the hopes that it might help someone else, and even if not, I think it will help me as I navigate treatment for this disease.