EDiam77

EDiam77 OP t1_j3i3c6q wrote

That and the sleep issues. They brought me in for a sleep study, after finally being hooked up and ready by 1 I fell asleep at 3 and was woken up by them at 5 saying I was good to leave and that I looked fine. I suppose it’s hard to get an assessment on one study but damn.

That’s excellent for you though, I’m glad you got something out of it at least! If you don’t mind me asking, what is it you do for work now? Looking at all types of work for ideas at the moment.

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EDiam77 OP t1_j3i15qr wrote

Yeah, allegedly in 2016 the law was implemented that you can't collect both, but I've seen redditors that still do so I'm a bit confused.

As for the service connection, ha. That was a nightmare. I had a few issues (primarily knees and tinnitus, I was a machine gunner in the Corps) but they:

  1. charged me copays for things I was told I wouldn't be charged copays for

  2. did an xray on my knees and no MRI after seeing no issues in the xray. Just the 6 month difficulty of those alone made me stop the process.

The only thing I'm contemplating still applying for is MH issues since I'm on the verge of starting therapy anyway, but not sure how much of a hassle that is with the VA (without divulging personal severity here publicly). I can definitely see getting a rating for it but I've also heard stories of them just shoving pills at my guys and not granting ratings even though it's definitely impeded their work and life quality.

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EDiam77 t1_iydh6lr wrote

I felt there was no before, nor any after awaiting me.

The sky wasn't blue, as there was no sky. The ground wasn't sand nor dirt, the landscape littered with neither trees nor centuries of man-made architecture, as there was neither a ground nor a landscape to a behold. I would say I was enveloped by vast greyness, though it was near impossible to discern near from far, so it couldn't be vast... and was grey even a thing where I now floated?

Existed, I corrected myself. I can't be floating, because that's depended on physics, and I guarantee that's not a thing here eit- Wait, I? I'm still able to think!

I had only existed in that realm, as I like to call it in my memories, for a matter of seconds - if those too even existed there - when a voice boomed from... somewhere:

"You may reincarnate as: a rock, a sheet of paper, or a pair of scissors. Choose wisely."

For a moment, I thought. I say I thought, because I couldn't speak, as I had no mouth. What I thought about were the obvious questions that may be originating in your physical brain:

Who is saying that? Where is that voice coming from? Are those really my only options, and if so, why can't it be something living*?*

Understanding that wherever I was, I clearly had no control over the situation nor any power over the voice beckoning me to come to a decision, I replied. It was more of a thought, I must say, as again, I had no mouth.

"I choose scissors."

"Very well," the voice replied.

Before I knew it, I was teleported back to the realm whence I came, only not in the manner I had expected. You see, as a pair of scissors, you have no eyes. You have no nervous system, either, meaning you can't - or, shouldn't be able to - feel things. I mean that mentally and physically, by the way.

But the magic of the situation was... I could indeed!

Before I go further, let me explain my logic behind my choice. You see, as a rock, you are indefinitely immobile. The world will see wars, peace, advancement, decline, tragedy and the greatest of splendors mankind can conjure. Years will go by, buildings will be erected, species will evolve, but I, as a rock, would only see the small speck of ground on which I lay for eternity. I was also not informed of the size of the rock, so I didn't want to take any chances. I wanted to see the world, at least for a little bit longer.

As a piece of paper, you see, I can be easily blown away in the wind. I could also just as easily disintegrate if I were to be rained on, or someone were to spill some water or wine on me. Or, even worse, a poor soul would write some lovely story upon my canvas, only to decide he hates it, and throw me into the bin. From there I would go on to a waste plant to be disintegrated, torn apart, yes recycled, but my parts would be scattered. That, to me, sounds tragic.

As a scissor, though, I'm now an extraordinarily useful tooth for our youth. I'm a bright green color, and one of the First Graders in this class, Billy, always chooses me for his crafts. It's exciting! I get to cut up paper - sorry, paper - into glorious snowflakes, or snip the corners and edges of their sheet to give them a tattered look (like that one time they wrote journal entries as Native Americans and had to design the paper to look old - it's interesting!), I have a myriad of uses moving forward! While of course there are times where some of the kids - including Billy, to my chagrin - snip themselves by accident, it lets me feel the raw emotion of pain. This is sad, but it lets me still feel alive.

When this class ends and another enters, I will do the same for a new generation of people, for generations to come. I will teach lessons in safety, and help express creativity. I will, for as long as I can tell, be a part of some of the most important parts of human's lives - those of growth, learning, and adaptation.

Personally, I think I won my final round of rock-paper-scissors.

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