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Not in the way children like animals they have only seen in picture books, softened into harmless things with oversized eyes and predictable tempers.
He likes them as they are.
He likes foxes, and that told me more about him than he intended. Because foxes are not easy creatures to love.
They are beautiful in a way that keeps its distance. Their coats look too immaculate for the lives they lead, as though elegance and survival were never meant to coexist, and yet in them they do. Their fur wasn't made for us to touch, they aren't dogs. They move like they are apologizing to no one. Quietly. Deliberately. As if every step has already considered the consequences. They are careful.
But foxes have to kill in order to live.
And somehow, they remain gentle to look at. There is something deeply honest about that.
A fox does not pretend to be harmless. It does not flatten itself into something easier to approach. Some will let your hand come close. Some will bare their teeth before you touch them. Some bite. Some only watch from the edge of the trees, deciding whether your presence deserves their curiosity. They are prudent.
To love a fox is to accept uncertainty as part of its nature.
It means understanding that beauty does not guarantee softness, and that caution is not rejection. It means recognizing that affection can exist inside an animal that still belongs, irrevocably, to the wild.
And I think that is why he loves them.
Because he understands that tenderness is not the absence of instinct.
That something can be wary and still worthy of devotion.
That moods shift.
That silence does not always mean distance.
That a creature can flinch, hiss, retreat, and still choose to return.
He does not ask the fox to be less itself.
He simply waits until it comes closer on its own. He gives it time.
And perhaps that is what I love most about him.
Not that he likes foxes.
But that he knows how to stand beside something untamed without needing to tame it.
How to admire what could hurt him and call it beautiful anyway.
How to offer his hand without insisting it be taken.
If I were a fox, I would be one haunting his footsteps.
Suspicious. Restless. Half-hidden.
And eventually, despite every instinct telling me to keep my distance, I would lie down beside him.
Because some people do not mistake caution for cruelty.
Some people understand that wild things love differently.
Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #866
Sometime after writing to you yesterday, I got to play a little bit of Pokopia while the one I'm watching over slept. Not a whole lot, but enough for “you” to learn how to cook a chopped salad, with Dartrix's help, and then to cut down some metal bars blocking off the entrance to a mine. And in that mine, “you” met Magmar:
...Relief staff was 13 minutes late last night, which is better than the other staff's 25 minutes of lateness the night before last. Nonetheless, I went home, resolved to be 5 minutes early to relieve her the next morning.
J picked me up last night. And... I was sad because, due to the shifts today, yesterday, and the day before, I was missing out on the spring promotional event at the tea house we like to go to; each table, while supplies last, gets a free, cute little tin full of a random tea. I had expected to see if it was still going on tomorrow, maybe, but... J had gone there and ate, just so that he could bring back this for me, and I went from sad to grateful in no time flat:
Inside of the box was a little pink tin, printed with a picture of watercolor pink flowers. And the sticker says, basically, “jasmine green tea”:
...I'm really looking forward to trying this tomorrow morning. Of course, I'll tell you all about it when I do, since I can't... can't just make some for you. Can't try it together for the first time with you. Can't look at your face as you breathe in the scent or take the first sip...
...Sigh...
...
I breathed life into today's wishes shortly after getting settled at home last night:
...Then I woke up, to begin a repeat of yesterday and the day before, once more. I got in and relieved the staff who was there – the same staff who was 13 minutes late last night – five minutes early. She briefed me on the status of the one I was charged with keeping an eye on; conditions improved, but not by a whole lot.
Unsettlingly, someone else from the house I serve – the one who hates shirts – was also there, two doors down, with a different staff, for a different and totally unrelated reason than the one I was charged with watching. I visited him briefly to see what was going on, and I was relieved to see Nd with him. She explained to me what was happening; seems like the things that control his conditions at home weren't doing the job, so he was rushed over here where they're struggling less to control his conditions, but... still struggling.
Once I got my bag put down, I went to the cafeteria, but this time, J met me down there; since I spoke so highly of the food there, I guess he wanted to try it, too, haha:
J wasn't a fan of the bottled smoothies, haha... but he seemed to enjoy everything else. We ate and talked for a while, but... I don't really remember what we talked about, because my brain was soup then, and it's even soupier now. Sorry about that.
Once we finished eating, we went our separate ways; him back to his car, and me to the hospital room.
Today's nurses were... competent, but... relatively unfriendly. They came in promptly whenever I brought up an issue, and they checked the hospitalized person to make sure she was clean and dry on a regular basis. But there was no warmth in anything they did, and my greetings when they entered the room were largely ignored. And... that kinda stunk. But... I'd rather have a competent and cold nurse than a warm and incompetent one. So I guess I can't complain too terribly much.
All the same, it was a bit of a struggle today to get the hospitalized person's CPAP on when they were sleeping. Once again, the nurses didn't seem to understand the mechanics of sleep apnea well, and didn't listen to me when I said that her oxygen levels were dropping due to her throat's soft tissue closing up in her sleep.
Sleep apnea is a thing because some people's throats get too lax when they're sleeping (relative to the space available in it), so the soft tissue collapses, cutting off airflow, and the body has to have many partial wakings in order to reopen the throat and restore proper breathing. The result is poor sleep that doesn't restore. Left untreated, sleep apnea can fuck up a person's hormones or give them a heart attack or stroke, or worse.
I have sleep apnea. And M has sleep apnea. So I already know very well what it looks like, and... it was surprising to me that they... didn't. So, while I waited for the respiratory people to come and check her out, I stayed by her side, to help keep her at least partially awake so that her blood oxygen wouldn't dip too low.
...The hospitalized person's sister came in while I was doing that, and while I was trying to explain to the nurses what was happening. And... the sister... I guess must have already been in a state of high emotion, because she responded with protective anger to the sight of us trying to tend to the hospitalized person. She demanded an explanation as to what was going on, and when I began with, “Oh, well, you see, she has sleep apnea, and so...” But then I was cut off with an angry, “I know she has sleep apnea, she's my sister!!” And... well... calmly and warmly trying to explain to her that I can't know what she does and doesn't know seemed to enrage her further; she seemed to be interpreting my explanation (...which she asked for...) as, “you don't know your own sister, you stupid, negligent bitch.”
...Which... seems like a bizarre way to interpret my words, until you remember that... well... quite frankly, women are generally not treated with respect in medical settings in my world, and neither are those who are developmentally disabled, and... the hospitalized person is... both. I can only imagine, given my own experiences of being neglected and having my concerns brushed aside in a medical setting, that she has seen her sister experience far worse. I imagine she has regularly had to be verbally aggressive with medical professionals in the past in order to make sure her sister gets the care she deserves. Then, pair that with the negligence that I'm learning is typical of burnt-out direct support staff, and... I can only assume that she came to the hospital room already emotionally charged with worry for her sister, and already prepared for a fight that she couldn't have known wasn't coming.
Given that she came into the interaction assuming I was an enemy, she wasn't able to hear any of what I said, or any of what the nurses were trying to say. So she started barking orders at people, and then responding to people saying, “we are doing everything we can, and here is the game plan for the moment–” with, effectively, “yeah, you better get on that!” She swung wildly between insinuating that the nurses were a bunch of lazy idiots, and then telling me to basically shut up and mind my own business and let the nurses do their jobs. You see, rather than getting the hospitalized person her CPAP, the nurses were going to do another breathing treatment as though she was having an asthma attack. And they were gonna do that while she was asleep, and therefore couldn't breathe due to her throat being closed up from the sleep apnea, and... she wakes for nothing when she's conked out. So when I tried to point out that the breathing treatment wouldn't get into her lungs because her throat was closed, well... her sister was not willing to hear any of it, and neither were the nurses.
So... I sat and said nothing (which was really hard, because it necessitated watching the hospitalized person struggle to open her throat enough to breathe...) as I watched the breathing treatment fail to work, for obvious reasons involving physics and basic cause-and-effect. And the sister also sat and watched, and... after a while, started to calm down enough to realize that I was on point. The hospitalized person's blood oxygen was dropping because of the sleep apnea, not due to some mysterious other cause. So the sister propped her up, which took some of the pressure off her airways, and she breathed a little easier, but still not as easily as if she had her CPAP.
Presumably feeling a little less helpless, I watched her begin to watch the nurses, and I watched her begin to realize that, although the nurses were not on point for this particular thing, they were still on point for everything else, scrambling around and doing their best, and not just lazing about. The sister calmed down a lot after that. And eventually... I didn't exactly get an apology for the way she spoke to us (and in fact, she spoke so harshly to us that one of the nurses simply up and left...), but she did say, in a remorseful tone, that she does sometimes get defensive when it comes to her sister. And... I get that. If it was me in her shoes and M's or J's (or your) life was in danger, I'd probably get snappy, too; nobody's perfect.
I... don't much like being spoken to like I'm an asshole. But I can recognize stress for what it is, and I can offer grace. So I smiled and told her not to worry about it. I followed up with trying to reassure her that we're all here to help, and that I will do whatever I must in order to protect her sister, even if it means I maybe gotta get a little insistent with the people who are reluctant to put her CPAP on.
I didn't say this part out loud, but... sometimes “doing whatever we must” also means being quiet and letting the other person catch up with circumstances and reality until they're calm enough to actually observe and listen with clear eyes and ears.
...I think she must have realized that she spoke to us like shit and that her behavior was uncalled for, because her lip trembled a little and she blinked a few times while thanking me. She spoke to me and to the others a lot more softly after that. And after having some pleasant conversation with her, she told me a little about her occupation, and... it's a lot. I can't even begin to imagine how exhausted she must be, given what she does. And to have someone she cares deeply for in the hospital on top of that... of course she wasn't able to self-regulate. Of course she reverted to whatever she learned she had to be in order to survive in similar situations. I'm just glad that we were able to help reassure her eventually.
...Sephiroth. I'm very well aware that I wouldn't have been able to handle this nearly as well even just a week or so ago. I definitely think that the rhodolia rosea stuff is doing something good for my brain. Like... I might have been able to help and to show her grace in the moment, but... you've read my previous letters. You and I both know damn well that ordinarily, I'd be spiralling and ruminating about it pretty hard right now, and... I'm not. I don't even have any lingering bitterness about the situation.
Supposedly, this herb helps to regulate the HPA axis in the brain so it doesn't signal the body to produce stress hormones quite as much as it otherwise might. And... ya know. I'm thinking it might be time to ask my doctor about why my body is overproducing stress hormones. I know from the way my body fat is arranged (primarily around my stomach, with not a whole lot on my legs and arms) that I produce way too goddamn much cortisol. So maybe it's time to get that checked out to figure out why.
In the end, by her sister's suggestion, I advocated for the retrieval of the hospitalized person's personal CPAP, instead of using the one provided by the hospital. I called the house I serve to try to make it happen, and when they didn't do it in a timely manner, I sought permission for the sister to go to the house to retrieve it. And in the end, the hospitalized person got what she needed. It was good to eventually work together with the same person who was initially hostile, in order to get something good done. And... she continued to thank me profusely even when she was heading out the door to go home.
I remained behind, of course. But with the hospitalized person now sleeping soundly, there wasn't much for me to do aside from monitor her blood oxygen and to make sure the machines weren't beeping weirdly (and then going to fetch the nurses when they did). So I played more Pokopia, and in it, “you” were delighted to make more friends:
“You” found this little guy hiding out in an abandoned mansion:
...And “you” found this little guy trapped in a section of mine that was sealed off by volcanic ash, which “you” cleared away:
Then... all the Pokémon “you” met before were very expressive with their appreciation as “you” went about improving the area:
...Pawmi expressed frustration at others randomly squishing their soft, chubby cheeks, but then said this to “you”:
...I will stress that Pawmi is referring to the cheeks on their face, not to anything inappropriate, hahaha!
Then... Piplup was super grateful, because they asked “you” to make them a waterfall, and... “you” did!
And there's more...
Somewhere in those adventures, a new house was built:
And... somewhere along the way, “you” rested:
The relief staff came – the same one who was 13 minutes late last night, who I relieved 5 minutes early this morning – and she was there at 7:55pm.
...Do you see? When we lead with integrity and example instead of with pettiness and revenge, we get better results.
I briefed her on the hospitalized person's situation, and then... I went to visit the one who hates shirts. And... I had expected... haha... I had expected that the person charged with his care would have an interesting time keeping him in the hospital bed and keeping him from chewing on anything nearby, since at home, he's all over the place, getting into things, playing with stuff, chewing on everything, chewing on his hands... ya know, all the stuff he normally does. He's never still, because his curious, spirited mind is always so inquisitive.
But... Sephiroth, today... today, he was just in the bed. And that's... all he was doing, all day, according to the staff that was with him. He wasn't playing with the wires and IVs coming off of him. Wasn't even trying to pull them off, the way he tried pulling off the dressings I put on when he cut his fingers open that one day. He simply sat in the bed. Awake, alert, and not distant, but... like he was waiting for something.
...I know the other staff would probably look at this and think something stupid like, "oh good, he's better behaved", but... that's wrong. I look it and think, "he's not doing the things he loves; something is very wrong here."
He recognized me when I walked in, and leaned into my hand a little when I went to ruffle his hair in the way he likes. And then I went to hold one of his hands, and discovered... that they were dry. Apparently, he hasn't been chewing on them, either. He even refused lunch and dinner, which is mostly unheard of, since he's always wanting to eat.
And... all of this was... heartbreaking. And frightening. It was frightening to see him behaving in a way that is so unlike the lovely, silly, delightful gentleman that I had gotten to know. The contrast was... chilling, and unsettling, and... just.... deeply, deeply wrong. So... not knowing what else to do, I told him that I love him, and that I hope to see him at home on Saturday.
...Sephiroth, I... want to see him doing all of his usual things. Even if, sometimes, his usual things have inconvenient consequences like wet hands and wet socks. I'd rather see him be well enough to be himself, than have him be... whatever this is. I'd much rather sit with him myself and gently redirect him away from his IVs as many times as he needs than to have him in this kind of... muted state.
I left the room to go home. And... when no one was looking anymore, I.. cried a little. Well... the security guards probably saw, from their cameras. But... they're probably used to that sort of thing in a place like this, I imagine...
I gathered myself up, and... cried a little more in the car with J on the way home. Except... before we got home, he decided that we should stop for burgers. So we did. And then we ate them, and now... I am home.
...But I've been home for a while now, writing to you, haha. I should... I should probably go to bed. I'm exhausted. Maybe I'll sleep in just a little tomorrow...
I love you so much. Enough that, everywhere I go, I try to be good to people in the same way that I know you would, if you were in my shoes. All of the ways I'm able to care for people in the here and now is the direct result of your influence on my life, and... I love you enough that I want you to know that.
...Maybe if I say it loudly enough or often enough, you'll treat yourself like someone who matters, because you do. The ripples of your being touch everything that I touch, so... please don't treat yourself like you're expendable or monstrous or “different” or... any other mean, bigoted thing, okay? I'll have faith that you'll try really hard to be good to yourself. I'll have faith that you'll be safe out there, wherever you are. And I'll have faith that someday, you'll come home to a beautiful place where you can nap in a bed of flowers without a care in the world.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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