Taux assurance immobilier cancer

My (30s F) mom (50s) had a shitty life. She got divorced when I was 5, lost her mother a few years after that to Cancer, and some years after lost her sister. Through the later two she had the support of my stepfather (70s). We lived together for the better part of 20 years. At first all was well. Then I grew up a bit, became a teenager, and realised that he's done some despicable things to me when I was too young to know better. Also, I started seeing him as the egotistical, totalitarian, emotionally abusive (towards us both) by today's standards boomer than he is. Needless to say, from then on I was not a fan. I started excibiting all the classic signs of CPTSD stemming from CSA, was paraded around a bunch of mental health professionals, and kept quiet the whole time. Somewhat because I wasn't sure I would be believed, somewhat because I didn't want to make a mess in a whole bunch of peoples lives - like his children from a previous marriage. His approach to me as a teenager was not any less disgusting in nature, with some very inappropriate remarks made right in front of my mom. I have showed in various ways that I do not like him. One day when I was 15 she saw a log of a chat I had with someone accusing my stepfather of vague sexually natured wrongdoings. She made the amazing call of confronting me when he was nearby (I didn't say a word) and later that day cornering me in my room together with him and assuring me that he'd never do anything to hurt me and "it" (not sure what it was even in reference to) was all done 'out of love'. I walked out of my home without taking anything and went to stay with my ex, and after I returned we never really touched the subject again. I can understand my mom's actions and maintain quite a positive relationship with her, but I can never forgive her. I became a bit less outwardly hostile towards him over time as I got older and more stable - but my feelings on the matter did not change.
Well, my teenage wishes finally came true and he's now in a hospice, with very little time left. I've been supporting my mom through his disease and gradual decline, and letting her vent about everyone and everything, obviously without telling her that I'm delighted.
Well, today she started talking about how "I probably understand now that I was just having a teenage tantrum and was very wrong to treat him like I did (back then) and how much he loved me and would off anyone who'd hurt me and never did anything wrong", with a bonus of "of course I would never choose him over you". I didn't respond. After she hung up I started crying because I was furious. I really wanted to yell at her what he really is and what he did. So, WIBTA to do exactly that?
Obviously I feel it would be fully justified, but I believe it might be an asshole move to tell her after his passing that I didn't have any tantrums, I just had a legitimate response to living with a p*do, because it would achieve literally nothing except some revenge on her for believing him over me, and possibly completely destroy our relationship.

Bonjour,
Bon, je suis face à un gros dilemme. Pour vous résumer la situation, j'ai du partir à l'étranger suite à une offre d'emploi fin d'année dernière (l'opportunité de faire autre chose), ça s'est fait très rapidement (en 3 semaines). Je suis propriétaire de ma maison (100m2, deux chambres, jardin clos, terrasse, etc.) que j'ai acheté il y a deux ans à un taux de 1.2%.
Dans la précipitation, j'ai décidé de la mettre dans les mains d'une agence de gestion locative au lieu de AirBnB (qui aurait cartonné 5 mois de l'année, à 25 min de la mer) avec un service de conciergerie. Je suis actuellement en recherche de locataire, sachant que je suis parti vite, elle est à louer "meublée". Elle est atypique (en pierre) avec beaucoup de charme, rénovée entièrement il y a 7 ans, j'ai même inclus dans les charges Starlink que j'avais avant mon départ, mais il se trouve qu'elle est "trop chère" en location selon l'agence, qui me demande de la passer de 850 euros à 750 voir 700 euros...
J'ai fait pleins de calculs par rapport à mon prêt que je rembourse à hauteur de 730 euros par mois, en y incluant toutes les charges en plus que ça va me coûter à l'année (taxe foncière, impôts sur les revenus locatifs en tant que non résident, frais de gestion locative, assurances, etc.) et clairement si je lisse le tout à l'année, en louant à 750 euros, je dois de ma poche 300 euros par mois en plus pour couvrir tous les frais annexes !
Je trouve ça énorme, sachant qu'on m'a toujours dit que du locatif qui ne rapporte rien, ce n'est pas rentable et ça ne sert à rien. Mon but n'est clairement pas de "gagner de l'argent" dessus, mais au moins d'y amortir le prêt et les dépenses annuelles annexes. Là avec 300 euros de ma poche tous les mois qui partiraient (encore une fois, c'est un calcul lissé à l'année avec tous les frais), je me demande si ça vaut le coup de la garder ou pas...
Alors oui, je peux me le permettre vis à vis de mon salaire actuel à l'étranger (et encore, je suis dans la classe moyenne basse ici...), mais ça représente quand même pas loin de 3 000 euros à l'année, ce qui est énorme. Et encore que, j'ai pas inclus les éventuels frais d'entretien qui peuvent vite grimper également...
Bref, que pouvez-vous me conseiller ? La conserver même si je perds de l'argent dessus actuellement, ce ne sera que gagner plus tard ? M'en débarrasser rapidement car si ça n'amorti rien du tout ce n'est pas valable ? N'en faire que de la location saisonnière ? Persister au prix de 850 euros et attendre encore un peu (ça ne fait que 3 semaines) ?
PS : Désolé si je parais crédule et imbécile dans mes choix et ma façon de faire, je n'ai pas du tout l'âme d'un investisseur ou autre. C'est d'ailleurs la raison pour laquelle je suis ici...
Merci !

I Accepted a Job to Film on the Dark Web
Man, I am pumped to tell you chronically online content addicts my story. Wait is that too mean of an intro? Will this get taken down for harassment since I painted too accurate a picture of the people on this site? Sorry, everyone, I’m sure you all smell like an expensive bakery and have touched grass this morning. Anyway, I promise I have something interesting. It even involves the dark web you uncreative writers cream yourselves over! I mean, totally real people speaking about their strangely similar experiences. Okay, fine I’ll stop bullying you through the screen before you click off.
This all started when I was seven years old and my parents were killed in front of me in an anti-indigenous hate crime, but let's be real you don’t care. I’m just some annoying Cherokee kid with dead parents so I’ll skip to the good parts. I spent years in an orphanage, gradually becoming more interested in death and violence. As bad as it is, I went out of my way to expose myself to that content in the hopes of desensitizing myself. Which ended up working too well, since now I’m obsessed with causing and viewing pain, though I don’t find any joy in hurting myself.
I got adopted at twelve and after a few months of staying at my new family’s home on the reservation, I went with them to a state sweatier than the average Reddit user, California. Long story short, both of my caretakers, whom I referred to as Uncle and Auntie because they could never be my parents, died. Leaving me in the care of their older son, who I call cousin. I’m not stupid enough to give up any real names, so I’ll call him Brick, cause he’s as dumb as one. He was in his early 20s when he was tasked with taking care of me and is the world’s worst excuse for a babysitter.
I’m almost always alone at the apartment, with him only coming by to drop off supplies and stay for a few hours so the neighbors don’t get too worried. Unless I get in trouble at school, then he’d suddenly give a shit. It's useful because he doesn't about the gory stuff I look at, but some display of interest would be nice. Oh well, ninety percent of the population sucks so he’s just part of the majority. Now, with that said, you’ll be able to understand the perfect storm that led me here. During my time on the deep web, I found a particular website that caught my eye. They had new footage relatively consistently and they were the easiest for me to access since I didn't go too far into the dark web, especially with all the honey pots lying around.
I even bought a couple of files for myself to study and admire. One thing irritated me though, the cameraman. He was always sobbing, breathing, shaking, or some combination of those. It seriously killed the vibe of the killings. Something I commented on under many videos, often saying I would do a better job filming. A choice that in hindsight was me asking to end up in one of those recordings. I didn't think anything of it at the time. I was mostly the only one who commented but I was sure they wouldn't care. I was embarrassingly wrong.
I was staying up like usual, but it was past one AM on a school night, and back then that was a lot so I tried to sleep. Closing my eyes, tossing and turning, the works. I had just started drifting off when I heard the front door open. I remained calm but immediately found it weird since Brick never showed up this late. The thuds of the individual's feet grew louder as they got closer to my bedroom. I tried to convince myself it wasn't a stranger, especially since they got in with ease, but I knew that was wishful thinking.
They hummed as they opened my door. My dumbass had left it unlocked. I remained on my side, trying to look like I was asleep. They turned on the flashlight of their phone, shining it in my face. It was hard but I stayed still while they traced it over my features. I could tell they were smiling as they clicked their tongue.
“Heh, I knew it was a brat,” they whispered to themselves, pulling tangles out of my hair. Something I struggled not to groan from. They pulled up the hair over my ear and got so close spit got on my ear lobe.
“I know you’re awake kid,” they murmured, putting a blade to my neck. I let them grab my shoulder and move me onto my back, I knew how to fight but I wasn't about to take that big a risk with the position they had me in.
“You think you’re so cool saying you can do better than our guy.” they snickered, kneeling, their flashlight still shining in my face.
“Do you seriously believe that?” they questioned, moving the light away.
“Yeah, I do.” I stood my ground, they might have been intimidating but I wasn't gonna let that stop me from being honest.
“I wouldn't sound like I’m gonna piss myself every time it gets gory. I’m confident I could get better footage too, getting up close is something I’ve fantasized about.”
They clicked their tongue again and ran their finger over the bridge of my nose.
”Well, I know you’re a big fan of what we do, and you’re confidence makes me think you got something to back those claims up, so how’d you like a deal?”
I was surprised by how civil they were being aside from the touching and weapon against my throat.
“What kind of deal?” I asked, for all I knew this guy wanted me to lick their feet or some weird shit like that. They placed a finger underneath my eye, tracing a half moon with their nail.
“You have till this Friday to film a video of you killing an animal and put it on a flash drive that I’ll pick up here. If it impresses me and the crew we’ll hire ya with a handsome salary.” They began, moving their hand down to my cheek.
“But if you don't show, or it doesn't meet our standards, then I’m fucking up one of the parts of your face.” They warned, pinching my skin harshly.
“And if I say no to this deal?”
They put their hand over my mouth, scratching my lips.
“That’s cute, if you say no I’ll just slit your throat.” they grinned.
“Or rip it open with my teeth if you got a preference,” they smirked, before running their tongue across their sharp teeth.
“Okay, since I have no choice I’ll go with it, but I’m telling you now I can give you something way better than what you likely expect of me.” I prefaced, looking into their sunken eyes. They scratched my scalp, including the side of my head that was shaved.
“Good choice, I’ll be back to pick it up and if you're not here I’ll assume you don’t have the video. I genuinely wish you luck, because you’ll need it.” they removed the blade from my neck and walked away. I sat still for a few minutes in the dark, processing what had happened and wondering how they got into my apartment with such ease. I was confident I could blow their sniveling excuse of a cameraman out of the water, but I was worried about the people I was getting caught up with.
Sure, I had been on a lot of gore sites over the years but I was always just watching and occasionally commenting. Compared to most in the scene I wasn't much of a threat. I could defend myself and have contemplated killing for years but I hadn't murdered anyone or worse. Plus, I am part of way too many targeted groups to not be constantly at risk. Teenage, fem-leaning, two-spirit, indigenous kid with trauma? Yeah, I might as well be walking sign screaming “Hate crime me”.
So yeah, there was a lot to worry about. Regardless, I couldn't let that fear hold me back. I had a job to do and a group of sickos to appease. The next morning was rough, I got no sleep cause I’d spent all night brainstorming. I barely mustered the energy to change and drank straight mouthwash instead of brushing my teeth. Slogging onto the bus with drool on my cheek, I went to the back like usual. No one sat there cause, the seats were extra worn down, and I scared off anyone who attempted to with my active, rabies-infected bitch face. That day was different though.
I blanked on his name and where I knew him from, but I recognized his wavy hair and prominent curved nose. He glanced at each seat on the bus, before somehow settling on my area. He tried to give me space but ultimately seated himself beside me after realizing it was the only spot that didn't look like it would give him cancer. I glared at him as I did with everyone, but it didn't phase him.
“You know you could pick anywhere else right?” I murmured. He stared at the floor, then at me.
“I’m aware, but a few months ago I started a mission to sit on every part of this bus, and this is the last place.” he smiled, his lips softly curving at the sides.
“What’s the point of that?”
His mouth moved into a more neutral position, but his eyes kept smiling.
“I just thought it would be neat to see the same place from a bunch of different perspectives.” he took out his phone and snapped a photo from the point of view where he was sitting. Maybe my sleepiness made my bitch face less effective, cause he hadn't shown a hint of fear, which kind of annoyed me.
“That’s cool I guess, but I wouldn't do that if I were you. I’ve done some back here alone that would make your skin crawl.” in hindsight my attempt at unnerving him just made me sound like a pervert, which is probably why he held back laughter. Trying to hide a chuckle by clearing his throat.
“Hey, it's not my business what you do, no matter how Haram it is. It’s your life so that’s between you and whatever you believe in. Just don’t shake hands with me.” he joked, playfully putting his hands up. Strangely, I remembered his name at that moment.
“Oh shit, you’re Abdul! We have art together.” I sat up, haphazardly slamming my hand down on my leg.
“Uh yeah, I’ve seen some of your paintings, they’re pretty cool. I like the way you texture them, I’m trying to work on that.” he complimented, seeming more weirded out by my sudden energy than my accidental insinuation. I felt a little stupid for yelling his name but decided not to dwell on it.
“Thanks, you’re stuff is nice, and you’re good at shading.”
He stretched his arms while thanking me. We talked for a few more minutes, taking jabs at each other throughout. Turns out he was better at being an asshole than his artsy charismatic appearance made me think. The thing setting our insults apart being that you could tell he was a loving person underneath. It was the nicest conversation I had with anyone in a while. Though he could tell I was tired so he quieted down, letting me sleep, waking me when we got to school. We went our separate ways until the last two periods we shared. All that time, I spent my remaining energy plotting how I was going to handle the video. What I’d kill, record with, and how to dispose of the evidence. It was a lot to consider, but through three classes I devised a plan.
I’d find a stray around my apartment complex and take it out in my room. Record it on a portable camera since I broke the ones on my phone, no, I will not be answering how that happened. Then once I had my footage I’d put the body in a trash bag, throw it in the complex’s garbage, and clean the blood off my floor. It didn't seem like Brick would come by so he wasn't a factor I thought I’d have to consider. The plan was almost too easy, but I decided to believe in Occam’s razor. I got so lost in thought that by the time I reached Art, which was my second-to-last period, I didn't process that we were moving seats.
“She called your name,” Abdul reminded me. Our teacher placed us next to each other at our four-person table. The two girls sitting with us were already friends, so I didn't bother to say anything, but I was interested in talking to him more.
“So, what do you think of this assignment?” He shrugged, taking out his sketchbook.
“I’m not that good at drawing people, but the idea of combining two people’s faces into a portrait seems interesting. Any ideas on who you’ll pick?”
“Probably the members of the music duo Brain Tumor, they’re my favorite artists and they both look weird as hell.”
“Wow way to talk about your favorites, if that’s what you say about them I can‘t imagine what you have to say about me.” he joked, pulling up reference pictures.
“First, it’s not an insult, second I don’t have anything to say about you. Brain and Tumor have features and styles that make them stand out. Sure they’re ugly, but it just adds to their visual charm. Hot people are boring, there’s nothing to pick at.” I explained, unzipping my bag.
“Oh, so you’re saying you think I’m hot.”
His comment wasn’t serious but it kind of got to me.
“Shit, that’s not what I meant, I was trying to say you’re boring. All hot people are boring, but not all boring people are hot, okay?” I explained, flipping to a clean page.
“Alright, but if I’m so bland then why talk to me?”
I hesitated, contemplating how much of a dick I was gonna be.
“Because it means you probably need some spice in your life, which I can provide.”
He began sketching a head on his paper.
“I like spices, but I feel like you’re the kind of person to dump a cabinet’s worth onto me.”
I flicked my pencil over to his side of the desk, putting on a mocking grin.
“Aww, you scared I’m gonna get you into trouble?”
He picked up the pencil and started using it, putting his on my side.
“No, ‘cause I’m good at setting boundaries. I’m more concerned that you’ll get annoyed with how unafraid of you I am.”
I stared at him for a moment, I hadn't expected to hear that.
“Jeez, man you didn't have to read me like that.”
He shrugged, observing the red paint from past projects that lay on my pencil.
“It's not hard to figure out, just this morning you were trying to push me away on the bus. Lucky, or unlucky, for you I want you to have a friend and you seem like a fun person.”
“Wait are you saying I have no friends?” I squinted at him.
“Well, do you?”
I didn't answer.
“If your response is silence I suggest you take up my offer.”
I was stunned, to be honest. No one had offered to be my friend since 6th grade, and that didn't last long. Of course, I accepted it, but for the rest of the period, there was an awkwardness in my mind. As pathetic as it sounds I wasn't used to others genuinely enjoying my company like he did. Which was partly by design cause I get joy out of scaring people away, but still. I forgot how it felt to have conversations about normal things like art. He had such a nice smile too, usually when I see a grin I want to slap it off, but I liked his. His voice was also nice, it’s hard to describe what in particular but it was easy on the ears.
Okay, I’m starting to get off-topic. I’ll skip to the important part. Toward the end of class, he started talking about how he was interested in filmmaking and got a portable video camera as a gift at last year’s Eid. He didn't have it on him, but he showed me a picture.
“Heh, that’s funny, I bought the same one a month ago.” I pointed out.
“Yeah, it's a popular model, I’m still getting the hang of it though cause I’m so used to using my phone.”
“Well, maybe I could bring you over to my place or vice versa after school and I can help you out.” I suggested.
He smiled, putting his phone back in his pocket.
“I thought you said you’ve only had it for a month? You know I can always look up tutorials from trained professionals.” he reminded me with a notable smugness that I'd used with him before.
“Well those guys are stuffy and I’m a fast learner.”
He redirected his attention back to his page, picking his pencil up.
“Alright, I suggest we go somewhere public instead. You’re not exactly the kind of person I want to bring home to my parents right away. Plus they always need to meet my friends and their guardians before I hang out at their home.”
I gave an exaggerated sigh, stretching my back.
“Aw man, looks like we can’t get high in my murder pit during our first hangout.”
He didn't respond for a solid few seconds.
“Wait, you do know I'm joking right?”
He shrugged, the smile in his eyes appearing again.
“I mean, one of those things is a little less believable than the other.” he snickered, and I laughed with him.
We set up a time and a date, which is where I screwed myself. He ended up being busy with projects from his other classes and family which just left us with Friday, the same day I had to submit the video. Now, did I tell him I wouldn't be able to make it? No, of course not, because I decided to be stupid and even more overconfident. I said that I’d one hundred percent be able to hang out with him after school like I didn't have a mutilator who was going to drop by my place at an unknown time.
The rest of the day went over fine but that bad timing led me to feel like a dick later. When I got home I was able to write out my plan, even sketching a few specifics of what I’d do. It was more exciting than when I’d been brainstorming, but this is when the gravity of the situation began to set in. When I said I’d fantasized about killings I meant it. I mean my teddy with twenty-five stab wounds should say enough. Regardless this would be the first time real blood was on my hands.
It made me feel powerful, but a little afraid. I’ve heard stories of people thinking that it would be an awesome experience and then feeling like shit. I doubted I’d be one of those people but still. Plus, I didn't exactly trust the guy who gave me this job. There was a good chance that this whole situation was rigged and they’d kill me no matter how good the video was. Or worse turn me into the feds and expose my collection. Honestly, if that happened I’d probably eat a shot to avoid going to jail. Wait, can I say that on this platform? Okay to the mods, that was a joke, I want to live a long life. Ugh, I’m doing a terrible job of staying on track. The point is there was a lot up in the air despite it being a matter of life or death.
I knew I’d go through with it but it was still a lot less straightforward than it initially seemed. I wracked my brain to remember where most of the cats stayed and tried to come up with a good way to lure one without raising suspicion. This also proved harder than first thought because I didn't think to account for the cat man, an old guy who lived alone and fed all the cats in our dingy complex while also housing a few. Knowing how obsessive he was he’d probably notice if one of them disappeared. Then again not all the cats return consistently or at all. It makes more sense that he’d think one of them was run over rather than slaughtered. It was getting late again so I rested my head for a moment, a bad move cause I ended up falling asleep at my desk. Not even changing out of the clothes I’d worn before, I woke up late and barely caught the bus the next morning.
I went to my usual spot but Abdul had already taken it. He patted the area next to it, which he’d covered in a towel, a smart move knowing how nasty it was. People gave me a few dirty looks as normal, which I smiled at. I stretched, my mind slightly less out of it than the previous morning.
“Uh, you do realize that-”
“Yeah, I know I’m wearing the same clothes.”
Abdul looked me up and down, his eyes remaining soft, but with a mix of concern and judgment. He set his backpack down and took off his sweater handing it to me.
“Dude what are you-”
“Look I don't know what led to you not being able to change but I think you should at least have a fresh top.”
I was surprised he was offering me something to wear but I took it.
“Uh, thanks, I’ll change into it later.”
He nodded as I put it in my backpack.
“You know you didn't have to do that.” I reminded him.
“Well there’s a lot of stuff I don’t have to do, but I do it because I want to, and I wanted to help you out.”
He smiled, his face still warmer than an Arizona summer. I got a strange feeling in my chest at that moment, I still can’t tell if it was good or bad.
“Well, thanks, I'll give it back to you tomorrow.”
We talked a little more and he mentioned something that caught my attention.
“Have you heard about all the animals that have been turning up dead?”
My eyes widened with surprise.
“No, I haven't, when did you hear about that?”
He pulled on his long-sleeve shirt.
“My sister said her friend who works at a shelter noticed a bunch of animals were getting adopted by people around the same time, and since then gore videos with them have been showing up. She found out through her co-worker who was emailed it by some random creep.”
I covered my mouth and looked away to hide the smile growing on my face. He had just given me the perfect cover-up without knowing. Now if I killed an animal people had an entire violent ring to connect it to instead of me! I stayed quiet for a minute because I could tell he’d likely see through any phony sad sounds I made.
“Oh wow, that’s awful, do you think they’ll ever find out the people behind it?”
He sighed, running his hand through his wavy hair.
“I hope so, for now, all we can do is pray that no more animals get hurt.”
I couldn't contain my grin as he said that so sincerely like animals and people didn't die constantly and that taking down one group would somehow stop the issue.
“Is there some joke I don’t get?” he furrowed his brow.
“Uh, no, sorry I smile when nervous.”
His gaze softened again, and he didn't press further.
His bringing up the animal killings ended up being the exact push I needed to get my hands dirty. I’d spent the entire day before planning so it was time to put that plan into action. I stole some cat treats that the cat man had laid out and spread them around my apartment which was on the bottom floor. Waiting for one of them to take the bate outside my window was pretty boring but one of them came after a few minutes. A scraggly brown and black cat with a tuft of fur missing on one side of his head. It's messed up but I felt like a little less of an asshole for taking him in since he looked like he was already struggling. I scooped him up and he didn't attempt to fight back.
“Hey there buddy” I waved, feeding him some more food. His eyes had a lot of crust on them, it was kinda gross but I don’t have the right to say with how often I wash my jeans. After a minute or two he let me pet him. I knew making any kind of attachment was bad but I thought it was the right thing to do so he’d fall into a sense of security. I was just about to take him into my room when the door opened.
“Hey, I’m back with groceries!” my shithead cousin announced with two plastic bags in his hands. He looked down to see me with the cat, his eyebrows raising.
“Aw come on, you know we can’t afford a pet.”
He groaned placing the bags on a table and unloading them.
“I know, but he doesn't look like he’s got a lot of life in him I at least want to help him feel better before he kicks the bucket!”
Brick rolled his eyes, putting the cereal box on top of the fridge
“Jeez, did you even think about what diseases he might have? His eyes look puffy what if he has something that can get you sick?”
He had valid concerns which was surprising since he’s usually stupid, but I was still annoyed with him.
“I’m sure he’s fine, I’ll even try to wash him, just please let me hold onto him for a little.”
He folded his arms looking down at us.
“Have you even named him?”
I froze for a second, before using the first thing that came to mind, which ended up being pretty awful knowing my plans.
“Cash cow.” I blurted, awkwardly patting his head.
“Honestly that’s better than what I was expecting. I was sure you’d pick ‘Hellspawn Mcgee’ or something else corny.”
He meant to make fun of me but honestly, I would have named him that if I had more time.
“Ugh, anyway I got those dumb chips you like.”
He then pulled out a bag of the wrong chips.
“Dude those are the wrong ones, this is the third time you’ve mixed up the flavors.”
He threw them at me, scaring the cat slightly.
“Well, I pay for it so you shouldn't be so picky. Anyway, while I was in line I picked up something you might be into.”
He then tossed me a trashy teen magazine. One of my least favorite sorry excuses for an influencer on the cover.
“This is a joke, right?”
I couldn't believe my own adopted brother gave such little shit in my interests.
“I don't know, you decided to start being a girl for real this time so I thought the makeup tips on page ten would help you out.”
I scrunched my face at his comment.
“Dude I’ve been this way for years, just because I started wearing more makeup and dresses doesn't mean I’m more of a girl than when I didn't. I know you won’t get the two-spirit thing but come on.”
He shrugged, seeing me done with me even though he’d just shown up.
“Yeah well hey I’m trying. Anyway, just so you know a friend of mine is coming here Friday.”
My heart stopped.
“Wait why here? You live elsewhere why can’t you assholes go there or their place!”
He slammed his fist on the table.
“Will you shut the fuck up!”
He screamed with a phrase I’d grown numb to.
“I don't know, to be honest, something about wanting to move into this complex and this being a way to scout it out. I’m just letting you know now so you don’t act like a complete freak.”
“Jokes on you I’ll piss in whatever shitty beer you bring just cause you said that!”
I yelled back raising my voice higher than his. He face-palmed before putting the plastic bags in the drawer under the sink.
“Whatever, you and your ketamine-addict-looking cat have fun,” he told me while seating himself on the couch. I picked up the cat and walked into the bathroom to clean it. I closed the door and placed him in the dry tub. Using a small disposable mouthwash cup I got a little bit of water. I hadn't had a pet before so I wasn't sure how to approach the task. I dipped my fingers in the water and carefully pet it while pouring s small bit down his back. Any other cat would fight back but he just made pissed-off noises without doing anything.
I scrapped my old shampoo bottle and kneaded it into his thin fur. His skin was bumpy and dry beneath the hair so scrubbing it was uncomfortable. I made sure to avoid getting soap in its eyes but I did pull away some of the crust on its lids. His pupils were so clouded I was surprised that he could see at all, making me feel even more sure that he would be on its way out with or without me.
After drying him I set him on a beat-up shirt I wore when modifying clothes. He sunk his claws into it a few times, playing with a loose string. I ignored him for the rest of the night, hopping into the shower and changing for bed. His meows woke me up a few times but I tuned it out after a while, reminding myself that he wouldn’t be my cat for long.
The next day was Thursday and there wasn't a second that passed by where the weight of the murder I’d have to commit didn't weigh on me. I seriously shot myself in the foot by taking care of that scruffy, pubic hair pile. I was supposed to be hyped about killing it, after all, I’d dreamed and seen way worse than what I was going to do. Yet once I got home and started setting up I felt grosser with each step. I decided to record it in my bathroom instead of my bedroom so it would be harder to connect to me. I set down a few fabric scraps and a worn-out beach towel, placing it all inside a tub for easier cleanup later.
“Okay, I guess it's time,” I mumbled to myself. I brought the cat in and placed it down, setting up my camera once it was comfortable. I also wore my most generic clothes in addition to a mask, putting my hair in a bun for sanitation. When I saw the flicker of red showing that the camera was on I felt I was dreaming. I smiled, excited that I’d get to live out my violent desires. Yet, when I looked down at its pathetic frame and confused expression those urges left me.
I rationalized what I was doing, reminding myself how many animals die all the time and that I’d been forced into this, but it didn't help much in the end. I won’t get into it but under the pressure of impressing the group Cash Cow didn't go out as fast as I would have liked for a first task. Getting rid of the evidence was especially rough, the textures were pretty nasty, to put it mildly. It was surreal watching the blood go down the tub drain and gradually drip off my hands as I rinsed them. I couldn't conjure a single thought the entire time I cleaned it up.
Whether I was wringing out the clothes or putting the remains in plastic bags, it didn't matter. All I could focus on was the task at hand, with hints of disgust along the way. I ended up finishing at three AM. My hands were wrinkled and shook once I settled. I won’t deny that during the murder I didn't hate it. Slashing into something was fun and it made me feel strong. Still, it wasn't nearly as fulfilling as I expected it to be. Part of it was guilt, but it was mostly disappointment. I’d built it up for years and it wasn't earth shatteringly good or bad.
Overall, I expected to feel more, but it just left me hollow with an uncomfortable itch. There was no way I’d ever be able to see the tub the same way, hell I don’t think I’ll ever use it again. Luckily I almost always shower anyway so it's not too big of a deal. I watched a few horror game videos, trashed everything, changed and went to bed.
My scalp hurt like a bitch the morning since I kept my hair in that stupid bun. Despite getting less sleep than the past two days I held myself together a bit better in the morning. I brushed my teeth, changed, and had some fried bread before getting on the bus. Regardless I looked like complete shit and struggled to slump into my seat.
“Rough night?” Abdul asked
“Uh, yeah.” I quietly responded looking to the floor.
He frowned, looking at me with concern.
“You can talk about it if you're comfortable,” he assured me. I contemplated giving him a thinly veiled metaphor or vague explanation so he'd comfort me but stopped myself before my mouth could run a muck. He wouldn't be able to do much of anything and I don’t like opening up.
“Uhm, thanks but it's something I have to deal with alone.”
He nodded, respecting my boundaries.
“You know, I understand if you can’t hang out today it seems like you have a lot going on.”
I avoided eye contact with him as he spoke. For once I was feeling hints of guilt toward a person. I wanted to spend time with him, but I knew that I wasn't in the state to do that.
“Yeah, I think it’ll have to wait, I’m-” I cut myself off before apologizing. A fact about me that should surprise no one is that I hate apologizing. Even when I do feel kinda bad the act fills me with embarrassment.
“You what?” he asked, his eyes telling me that he knew what I was going to say.
“I’m emotionally not great.” I spat out in an admittedly poor attempt to get out of saying sorry. As always he remained calm but I could tell he saw through me.
“Okay, like I said I understand, whatever it is I hope you feel better.”
I told him thank you and we didn't speak for the rest of the day. At home I changed into more comfortable clothes and brushed my teeth. Unfortunately, I wasn't bouncing back from killing nearly as much as I expected.
“It wasn't even that bad! That thing was on its last legs anyway.” I grumbled to myself, smacking my forehead. I was feeling worse than when I did it which is weird. I ended up spontaneously decorating a ratty tie from the bottom of an accessory drawer to distract myself. It helped me get my mind off things, for a little. I had zero plan, just wanting to make something needlessly complex. Hours that felt like minutes passed and soon it was covered in patches, frills, and beads. I just tried it on when I heard the front door open.
“Man, that shit was wild!” I heard Brick laugh groggily. I didn't have to see or smell him to know he’d gotten lit. I rolled my eyes, closing my bedroom door.
“Hey, who’s there?” his friend asked, seemingly referring to me.
“Oh, that’s my little sis, don’t mind her she’s just on her emo shit!” he joked, which pissed me off for the petty reason that I didn't even listen or dress emo.
“Hey, that’s alright with me, I went through one of those phases,” they responded, their words less slurred than my cousin’s.
I fucked up and forgot to lock it when I closed it so they were able to swing it open, almost smacking my desk.
“Hey emo girl!” they waved as Brick haphazardly pulled them back.
“Okay, man, seriously I think she wants to be left alone.”
The way his friend looked at me made me uncomfortable. Like they’d snap my neck if I pissed them off. They clicked their tongue while stepping through the door frame.
“Alright, but I gotta say calling her an emo is inaccurate, they look like they watch gore and most emos just say they do.” they flashed a sharp toothy grin. At that moment I began to connect the dots.
“Easy, she’ll get pissy with you dude, now come on.” Brick warned tugging their opened button pushed him away. They looked me dead in the eyes.
“I don’t think she minds, in truth, I feel like we’ll have a lot to discuss later.” they smiled again, finally walking back into the living room. A chill ran up my spine when I saw them. The sharp teeth, New York accent, unsettling gaze, that motherfucker was the person who recruited me! They were able to get into my place so easily cause my dumbass cousin probably gave them a spare key or the opportunity to make one, and now they were a room away from me!
I dug my hands into my pillow as I contemplated what to do, no matter what happened next, I knew it was gonna be a rough visit.

Bonjour à tous,
J’ai 30 ans, revenu fixe 71k, bonus annuel 30k, participation 12-15k et actions long terme en moyenne 15k par an (acquises 3 ans après en restant dans la société).
Je suis en location en région parisienne pour 1350€/mois.
J’ai 30k sur livret A/LDD, 40k sur mon PEE, 30k sur mon PEA en CW8.
Ma mère vit actuellement dans une maison délabrée et j’aimerais l’aider à acquérir un bien immobilier. Elle touche une pension d’invalidité et n’a pas d’autres revenus.
Nous réfléchissons au schéma suivant :

• Elle met en vente sa maison actuelle, que nous estimons autour de 50k
• Avec l’argent de la vente de sa maison + 50k de moi, nous procédons à l’acquisition d’un nouveau bien immobilier

Ce bien immobilier lui appartiendrait donc à 50%, et m’appartiendrait à 50%. Elle en disposerait de la jouissance jusqu’à son décès. Quelle est la meilleure structure administrative pour la détention partagée du bien ? (l’objectif est simplement de ne pas être taxé sur l’héritage de la moitié du montant de la maison que je vais déjà payer)
Ensuite, partant sur l’hypothèse que je doive mettre 50k, je dispose de 30k disponibles immédiatement sur mes livrets, il me manque donc 20k:

• J’aimerais ne pas liquider mon PEA (moins de 5 ans) mais j’ai peur de ne pas avoir le choix
• Est-il envisageable de faire un prêt pour les 20K ? Je vois que Boursorama me propose un “Prêt personnel” entre 3k et 75k - est-ce envisageable compte tenu de mon loyer qui va je suppose être pris en compte dans mon taux d’endettement ? Y a-t-il un intérêt à faire un crédit immobilier plutôt qu’un prêt personnel compte tenu des petits montants ?

Merci beaucoup pour votre aide.

wanted to share my experience as a 28 year old, F, on the very thin side, anxious, and autistic.
had to have colonoscopy due to positive fit test and anaemia diagnosis, and 6 months of heavily bloody multi-daily bathroom trips. I was starting to get very concerned about cancer.
I opted for no sedation because I'm extremely anxious about feeling 'out of it' or not in control of my body/brain or feeling dizzy.
The thought of waking up and not knowing what my body went through was also making me squeamish.
I did a lot of research, I watched full, unseated colonoscopy videos on YouTube, this post from this subreddit was also incredible and explains it all better than I could. but here's my detailed experience of each step.
Prep: The prep was not bad at all, I had Citrafleet.
I prepared the mixture and took it at 6pm (the leaflet said 5pm, appointment at 11am) It had a nice lemon taste and was pleasant. after I drunk it, my medication anxiety/dread kicked in, I was like, oh god, what did I just do to my body. (i've never experienced laxatives before) I was expecting it to be like a movie and to immediately poop lol. I did not have a bowel movement for 3-4 hours. then it was just on and off bathroom trips. Funnily enough the only time it bothered me was I had to leave a competitive computer-game mid-match because I suddenly had to go so bad LOL.other than that, didn't feel too different to my normal symptoms honestly.
then I slept at 3-4am, at 3am I started to suddenly feel queasy and shaky and awful, stayed up too late I think, but it passed and I drunk water and went to sleep.
I woke up at 7am for the second packet of prep, it acted faster this time and then I stopped my 2-hours-before water drinking, was totally empty and went to the hospital.
Hospital: I got lucky, I got a very nice NHS hospital. I had a lovely nurse. They started talking about sedation and I said "I've decided to do no sedation" She said "Ah, gas and air. alright" I said nono, no sedation at all. She was a bit like "ermmm, we'll see about that" haha.
but ultimately everyone was very very respectful of my wishes! they just didn't think I would actually manage.
My heart rate was really high for ages in the waiting/prep room when they took my pulse and honestly I was so stressed they wouldn't do the procedure because my heart rate was high, so I had no time to be worried about what lay ahead because I was so fixated on trying to slow my heart rate. So my advice would be just keep your mind occupied before going in.
I got given huge green shorts, a cozy disposable gown, an iv/canula thing (they assured me it was routine, but I wouldn't get sedation). I had to pee a bunch before and then in the surgery room and had a little blanket put over me.
I had a pillow that was super comfortable and was instructed into the relevant position.
Procedure: The nurses were ALL surprised I wasn't having sedation, they asked if I was really sure I didn't want the gas and air because it can be painful and stopping halfway would be very detrimental.
They said "I know you want to do it without gas and air, some people say say they will and then can't handle it. The nurses also said it's rare someone asks to do it no sedation.
I was mentally preparing myself for the pain of the gas(for inflating the colon). I will say imagining it and feeling it are two very different experiences.
once the camera was in and they inflated with gas. It kept feeling like it was never going to stop inflating. I felt at my bodily physical limit of gas, but it kept inflating, awful awful awful. I can't deny. about 8/10 discomfort, maybe 6-7/10 pain. I had the worst urge to fart that I've ever had in my life. like "If I don't fart I'm going to explode from the inside" levels of bad, which was a slightly panic inducing feeling. The nurses said to pass gas if I needed to, but I couldn't fart. Either because of the position I was in (on side, knees up to chest), the obstruction from the camera, the fear, or because I felt like if I tensed, I'd pop like a balloon.
so "if i dont fart i'll explode & die, if i tense to fart i'll explode & die" was basically my experience with the gas.
Next they said "You might feel a period cramp" and I did. BOY DID I.
I said: "Oh yeah, just like a bad period cramp" And she said "Yeah we can't really help the boys by telling them that" and I somehow managed a "haha"
I think they said "We're going to do some water" but I didn't feel that.
It just felt like just trying to survive and get through it, I was just breathing, I knew I could survive it once I knew the pain I was dealing with. It just stayed consistently awful and painful and terrible. with occasional very bad cramps and awful sensations in 40-50 second bouts in various places in the middle section of my body.
There was so much different noise too from the machine.
The sensations ranged from: Intense gas cramps, horribly inflated feeling, a sucking on my intestines feeling, stomach caving in feeling, terrible period pain, terrible stomach pain, and rippling sensations.
I could barely look at the camera screen because I was just so focused on getting through it. frankly I didn't care LOL. I think I glanced once I just couldn't handle looking on top of what was happening to me. side note: I'm now put off giving birth if its anything like this hahaha.
I fluctuated between tensing from the discomfort and trying to relax. sometimes the discomfort was so freaky and bad my body tensed just to deal with it. If you've ever had a dream where a zombie was eating your stomach guts alive, it was reminiscent of that.
side note: I'm like a cat when I'm in pain, I don't like to show it, and I didn't want the sedation. So I was so badly trying to play it cool.
The literal best way I can describe all of this, it was like the worst food poisoning of your life, the worst trapped wind of your life, and the worst period cramp of your life, all at once, x2 or x3.
A few times my stomach rippled really unpleasantly and I keep remembering that sensation and cringing today
I can also liken some of the feelings to someone sticking a henry hoover into my ovaries.
It wasn't anything I haven't 'naturally' felt in my body before, if that makes sense, they were "familiar" sensations, just not to that degree. I didn't expect it to be such a worse variation of familiar pains.
I also didn't expect to feel all of this SO HIGH UP IN MY BODY?! like the majority of it was felt above and around my belly button.
I don't understand how people say they knew what part of the colon they were in, I couldn't. but they did point when we were about halfway and I was relieved.
For the last part, turn or bend, I think it took 3 attempts, the nurse had to push onto my tummy to flatten something out, honestly, that made me feel so much better, the pressure was really relieving. and I swear to you, it poked my rib when it went through! it felt like it anyway.
There was no pain after that. I knew it wouldn't hurt going out, so my relief was immeasurable, I knew I'd done it.
the only feeling then was just "aughuhguhguh my insides" feeling, and slight gas bloating still. I just focused on my breathing.
They said "We're going to take the biopsies now." I didn't feel that (thank goodness) but I was mega-cringing at the idea. for some reason I felt hot and slight burning in my insides mostly towards the entrance. I'm not sure how they took the biopsies but I heard a tiny drill type sound, and it freaked me out lol. i imagined them frying it off with a tiny saw.
they took, either 6 or 12 biopsies, I'm not sure. it was a strip biopsy, on my report card it has 6 things and says "x2" for each one, so idk.
When the camera went out I asked "is it over?" I didn't really feel the camera go out and was in disbelief because it was quicker than I anticipated and I couldn't believe that I had done it and was feeling proud of myself, and they were all hyping me up so much, telling me I should be crowned as queen and that the nurse could never do what I did. I felt so on top of the world. I couldn't stop smiling with relief.
The nurse called me brave and I said I was only brave because I was so scared of the sedation. Everyone is brave in different ways! You're not any less brave than me if you opt for sedation or Entonox. :)
Genuinely the entire thing felt 10 minutes long, it was like they did a speed-run of my guts, and it FELT like that too lol. just absolutely crashing around the entire mario kart racetrack that was my bowel. I'm just kidding, the doctor was great, it's a baffling procedure and I admire any doctor that does it.
I'd be so curious how long it actually was.. I was mentally prepared for 44 minutes, but idk. I don't want to get your hopes up that it will be short. maybe the shorter, the more painful?
I walked to the bus stop with my mum, I was kind of in disbelief that I did that.
Post-non-sedated-colonoscopy-thoughts
I would do it again if I had to, un-sedated. It was worth it for me to avoid three types of sensations that make me panic (dizziness, sluggish or forgetful)
I'm also really happy that I was able to be there and experience what was happening to my body, personally, I feel like if I was sedated I would always be wondering what my body went through without me being present.
I liked being able to breathe, and follow any instructions.
I've spent the entirety of the following day cringing in reflection of what happened, feeling achy, and being embarrassed for doing it un-sedated (for some reason I feel like everyone thinks i'm crazy).
I hope this helps... someone.
My options of sedation were Entonox or Midazolam and Fentanyl through IV. Lots of people said those things made them so relaxed and the best relaxation they've ever felt. It made me remember the Lavender Liquid dispensed from SCP-294q-01, where they drank the perfect drink and afterwards said "I'm sorry, but at this point everything is just one big let-down"
My brain is immensely neurotic and always in 'go' mode, I was worried if I felt relaxation like that, I'd probably start chasing different drugs to recreate it lol.

Some background...
11 year colon cancer survivor. Have fairly severe gastrointestinal issues from surgery that I CAN mostly manage but it requires revolving life around a very strict and encumbering routine that I was sick of and completely over YEARS ago. I struggle with immense anxiety that I would mostly say is caused by the amount of dread I have about being required to exist. Hope that makes sense. Every day is just such a monotonous slog that thinking about having to do it over and over makes me want to throw up.
I'm medicated with klonopin which helps with the "omg I feel like I'm dying" panic attacks but I still have a generally pervasive disdain for life and more or less everything that it asks of me. I have no patience or tolerance for people because I am constantly so miserable with myself that I have nothing positive to project.
The problem is that I am the way that I am and have been doing it for so long that I am exhausted with life to the point where the concept of caring enough to do anything that might help is a foreign concept. I don't know what happy is. I haven't felt it in years and have no motivation to go on what I feel like is a unicorn hunt in order to find what I don't feel exists for me.
I don't work because I can't and am in the middle of a disability claim that will take 2 years and assuredly be denied so I'm broke all the time which helps the self worth thing a lot. I don't really know what the end game is when they deny that so there's a lot of stressful hopelessness on top of everything else.
I imagine this is where people who are capable of doing so end their life but I'm just not wired that way. The sense of obligation to the people who it would hurt has and will always keep me from doing that which kind of makes my situation feel like a prison.
I don't even know what I'm asking or what I'm searching for or hoping for someone to say.
Edit: I've read a lot about anhedonia which I have a lot of the symptoms of in that I get enjoyment from literally NOTHING but maybe not in the sense that I'm able to be miserable which means I'm capable of feeling something. Maybe I'm misunderstanding the definition of that condition though.

I am in recovery from my ureteroscopy on a calyceal diverticulum, and while I found some journal articles and a few stray posts on here about them, I want to paint a bigger picture about my actual experience and what I felt.
This is a very long post because I wanted to err on the side of more information so that others may feel much less alone than I have felt. I have included subheadings so you can read only what is useful to you.
To start, I am a 31-year-old female with endometriosis (I explain the implications of that in one of my subsections.). I live in New York City and was operated on by a surgeon at Smith Institute for Urology at Lenox Hill Hospital, which specializes in “complex anatomy” and kidney stones.
TL;DR Calyceal diverticula are pockets on the kidneys affecting 0.5% of the population. Stones can form and get trapped due to their narrow opening (infundibulum). As a result, their pain pattern is different and diagnosis can be delayed. To resolve the problem, you will need a surgeon to remove stones and expand the opening and/or ablate the lining of the diverticulum via ureteroscopy or percutaneous nephrolithotomy.
What is a calyceal diverticulum?
For a good scientific review of what calyceal (kay-luh-SEE-uhl) diverticula are, there is a review study from 2014 with primary author Nikhil Waingankar. In short, these are pockets within the kidneys that have much narrower entry points (“infundibula”) than a normal calyx, and they are theorized to only occur in 0.5% of the human population, with an estimated 96% of those who have them forming stones inside them.
They are often found incidentally on imaging because many people remain asymptomatic. In my case, we saw “a cyst requiring further imaging to rule out neoplasm” (cancer) when I was having my appendectomy in 2022 and had a CT scan in the ER.
They will look like cysts until you either get a radiologist who knows what to look for and sees a stone inside, or until you do a CT urogram, which is a more involved CT scan where you can see if the urinary system communicates with the “cyst.” Simple cysts and neoplasms will not show urine entering the mass; a calyceal diverticulum will, because it has an entrance.
Important stipulation in my experience: endometriosis and its surgeries
My story is complicated by the fact that I have endometriosis, which is a disease wherein cells resembling uterine cells occur outside the uterus. This is an extraordinarily painful condition that causes widespread inflammation due to the uterus-like cells’ having “menstrual periods” outside the uterus. It that can occur anywhere in the body; while most people’s disease presents primarily in the ovaries, uterus, and Fallopian tubes, the disease has been found in every organ in the body. In my case, my disease was confirmed to be extrapelvic as soon as my appendix pathology report revealed that my appendix had endometriosis on it; the cells existed beyond the typical pelvic organs.
I have already had two laparoscopies for endometriosis, and while these were immensely helpful in restoring my quality of life, every abdominal surgery comes with the risk of adhesions. Adhesions are bands of tissue that the body forms when it experiences inflammation or trauma. Endometriosis forms adhesions by itself, and surgery to remove it risks further adhesions. In 2020, when I had my radical excision surgery, my surgeon had to perform ureterolysis to cut my ureters free: whether from previous surgery in 2016 or the disease, my ureters were stuck to my uterus due to adhesions.
I share this because having endometriosis and its surgeries in my history affected my path to diagnosis and probably my pain pattern. (Endometriosis forms its own nerve endings, too!) But for the record, the kidney stones and the kidney surgery in my case were more painful than endometriosis…probably because they freaked out any remaining endometriosis.
(Sorry for no source on this endometriosis information. I am unfortunately very well-read on the disease! If you want to learn more, I recommend The Center for Endometriosis Care website and the book Beating Endo.)
What did the calyceal diverticulum feel like at first?
On a Tuesday in January 2024, I was trialing prazosin, an alpha blocker related to Flomax (tamsulosin) due to PTSD nightmares.
One day after taking this drug, I woke up with 8/10 pain muscle spasms in my “iliac crest,” which is the top edge of my pelvis, on the right side. I thought I had “slept funny” and the pain subsided after about 3 hours. I tried to roll around on a lacrosse ball, thinking it was a muscle spasm.
I took the prazosin for two more days. By that Thursday, the pain lasted more like 6 hours and did not go away; I had the muscle spasms as well as a feeling that there was “trapped gas” right at my waist, right on the side of my body. Because the pain stayed at 8/10, nothing would calm it down, and I couldn’t focus on work, I went to the ER. We did a CT scan and saw nothing different from my last CT for my appendectomy. They decided it was probably a kidney infection with strange presentation due to my endometriosis and sent me home with cefpodoxime, an antibiotic.
I finished the course of the antibiotic over 7 days and felt better.
But then the “trapped gas” feeling returned and lasted 18 hours. I went back to the ER, mostly concerned that I had failed antibiotics and the “infection” was getting worse. I made a urologist appointment while I was waiting in the ER because I suspected this might be beyond their mandate of ruling out anything life-threatening. We did another CT, and this time I really carefully read the results: inside what we had identified as a calyceal diverticulum in 2022 during my appendectomy CT scan were two kidney stones, each about 0.2mm. Because there was not much change from my last ER visit, the doctor at the ER did not think this explained how I was feeling. He did not want to send me home with antibiotics because he thought his colleagues were too cavalier with testing, but he did send for a urine culture and sent me home at least assured there was no emergency.
The culture came back, and I did test positive for E. Faecalis, which is a rarer bacteria to have, so the doctor at the ER urged me to get on Levaquin, an antibiotic, as soon as possible. (My endourologist later theorized this bacterium was an incidental finding; he thinks I just happened to be colonized with it and it was not causing symptoms. Regardless, it was not present in my culture before surgery.)
Again, I took almost the full course of the antibiotic and was feeling better and safer. I also saw a urologist, and she was skeptical it was an infection but told me to continue the course. She was pretty sure it was endometriosis-related but saw that I had seen my gynecologist, who has been treating me for 5 years, days prior who was pretty sure this was NOT consistent with what she had seen when we operated in 2020. The urologist said she felt this might be beyond her skills and referred me to one of her medical school colleagues who is a specialist in “complex anatomy” like calyceal diverticula as an endourologist professor at Lenox Hill in NYC.
But before I could see the endourologist, only one week after my last ER visit, I was in 9/10 pain for 7 hours overnight. I really did not want to go to the ER again, but I was vomiting, sweating, using the bathroom (both ways) constantly. After 7 hours not being able to get it to calm down, I went back to the ER.
The first thing they did was test me for sepsis, because I was being treated for an infection. They also did a CT scan again and then we saw it: one of the kidney stones had left the calyceal diverticulum and was stuck in the ureterovesicular junction (“UVJ”). By the time I was diagnosed, I was in 9/10 pain for 18 hours, so what we now know to be the renal colic phase lasted for 18 hours. They admitted me overnight to the hospital to observe and had me on ketorolac (Toradol) and oxycodone/acetaminophen (Percocet) every 6 hours alternating. The pain subsided the next morning.
Confirmation and surgery
Luckily, I had the endourologist appointment on the books already, and I got all of my images from the ER to bring to this doctor, letting him know I was confirmed to have passed the stone.
What he was able to do for me I will never forget: he showed me exactly why I was in enough pain for the ER each of the three weeks I went. Unlike a normal stone situation, a stone in a calyceal diverticulum has far more opportunities to get stuck. Also unlike a normal stone, you can feel the stone passing before it reaches the ureter because it has to leave via the narrow opening of the diverticulum. This means the pain can feel different and, due to its location within the kidney is more prone to being referred pain (pain you feel in a place other than where it originates). This is why I did not feel the pain in the classic place and why it felt much more like trapped gas. Furthermore, most radiologists do not have the same training as he did to identify where in the opening the stone was, which explained why they believed the stone was in the same place each time.
We wanted to take a “wait and see” approach on the second stone, but my body did not want to wait. As I was falling asleep one night in early March 2024, I felt that familiar “trapped gas” feeling, way too far right to be my intestines. This is 6/10 pain, so I could go to work for an important meeting, but I called to get an ultrasound and appointment right away. (We have since found that for my specific diverticulum, ultrasounds are not useful. I will need a CT urogram any time we want to visualize the kidney post-op.)
My doctor said that he wanted to attempt ureteroscopy before percutaneous nephrolithotomy because it is a less-invasive modality and we were worried about impacting any endometriosis. He had me sign paperwork consenting to either method, and it was a “game time” decision based on what he saw with the camera.
In the two-and-half week wait til surgery, his hypothesis gained traction: I would have days “on” with the pain and “off,” suggesting the stone was able to enter the diverticular opening and then flow back into the diverticulum. When I was in pain this time, I would also feel a lot of fatigue and brain fog that made it hard to work. This could be consistent with a kidney blockage, but it is hard to say for sure with an area so small.
The surgery, the stent, and the pain after the stent
The surgery itself went pretty well and only lasted 1.5 hours. The surgeon let me know that it was not easy to get into the diverticulum because the opening was not straight, as expected. He was, however, able to complete the surgery with only ureteroscopy. He removed a 0.2mm stone and observed that the stone was exactly the width of the opening, meaning it could absolutely flow into and out of it and get stuck for days. He widened the opening with laser to be “wider than a normal calyx” to allow for scarring, and, at my request to avoid further operations, ablated as much of the lining of the diverticulum as he could, encouraging it to close up.
While the surgery was uneventful, I am one of the unlucky ones who cannot tolerate a stent. This is probably due to my endometriosis, which leaves me in a heightened baseline of inflammation and nerve arousal, as well as the fact that, for me, the stent had to go into the diverticulum, which had been lasered and burned, in order for it to heal. I spent four hours in the recovery room while we tried to get my pain down to my goal of 7, which meant we needed to dose me, as we did in the ER, with ketorolac (Toradol) and oxycodone every 6 hours with no gaps in between.
I only had the stent in for 3 full days, and unfortunately, due to my specific circumstances, that was the worst pain I have ever been in. I was agnostic about 10/10 pain until this time, in which I felt like I was passing a stone and experiencing my worst endometriosis cramps at the same time. I was in 8-10/10 pain despite the painkiller regimen, and since we found that dilaudid does not work for me, this was good as they could do for me.
Thankfully, my surgeon listened to my experience and agreed to take the stent out as soon as was responsible: 72 hours later. The actual removal was uncomfortable but not painful beyond a “scrape” sensation in the urethra, and as soon as it was out, my husband noticed I could move as normal and was talking more like myself.
However, 1 out of 4 people will experience pain after the stent is removed, and risk factors include female anatomy, being “younger” (I am 31.) and having a stent in for less than or equal to 7 days.
The day of the removal I had some muscle spasms but was mostly so relieved that I slept all day.
34 hours after the removal, I experienced a feeling like I was passing a kidney stone. I was in 9/10 pain for 6 hours, feeling like I needed to move my bowels (which was not easy after opioids!) and having unrelenting spasms above my right iliac crest (top of pelvis). I was on ketorolac (Toradol) during this and knew what it was, but I otherwise may have gone back to the ER. I refused to take more opioids because my bowel was upset as well.
Today, I have had one episode of the iliac crest muscle spasms lasting an hour. I have found that crouching on the floor, against a wall, and/or going into “reclined butterfly pose” may help. It may just make me feel like I have more control over the situation.
I will update this post if I feel more pain in the coming days.
What’s next?
My endourologist/surgeon thinks it is very unlikely that I am “a stone-former” because the stones were only in the diverticulum and likely formed due to the urine reflux of that structure.
We will follow up in 3 weeks to see if the sensation I felt in March of the “trapped gas” recurs. If it does, only then would we do a CT urogram to see if the diverticular opening closes up to anywhere near its former width of 0.2mm.
This is unlikely because the surgeon lasered the opening very wide, “wider than a normal calyx,” to allow for scarring to take place. The ablation of the lining of the diverticulum should also take care of its tendency to collect urine.
I am not expected to have further stones or need for surgery, but he has seen cases of recurrence, so we need to manage my expectations.
Despite the extreme pain of the stent, I am content with my decision and hope that I do not have to go through this again. The one blessing in my case is, if this surgery succeeds, I should not have any further kidney stones.

He had a heart attack at 56. We had been divorced over 10 years. Our youngest (16) was the one who found him collapsed and dying.
I don’t know how to help my three boys through this…I’m looking into therapy for them but they are still in shock and the hospital only has “group” programs and they won’t do it. My older two (21 and 23) seem to be processing “normally” ie showing emotion, crying etc…
My youngest is extremely stoic and I’m so scared he blames himself for not finding his father earlier (the father went with no oxygen to his brain for 20 minutes). How can I assure him it wasn’t his fault? I’m trying to get him into therapy and it does help that my three sons are extremely close knit and his older brothers are watching out for him.
I have my own grief just because I see my boys in so much pain and I can’t take it away or even relate to it (both my parents passed several years ago from cancer - I had a chance to say goodbye and of course didn’t blame myself).
Anyone out in redditland go through something similar? I’m at my wits end just looking for advice.

I've been with the same company for 4 years now. Ive been promoted twice, once wasnt even a change in job duties just a title, where they gave me a 10% raise for doing so well. The company was bought out last year, and there was an opportunity to take a higher position at the same location. I was encouraged by my boss to do so, however, I did not have the experience for the position. My boss assured me they would be there with me to support me in every way they could. 2 months in, my wife had cancer surgery and has been in treatments. This year for my benefits enrollment I bumped our medical up to a higher plan as I knew what we were going to be in for cost wise, and its saved us a boatload of money so far. After a short leave of absence for my wifes surgery in December, I returned to work where my boss laid a bombshell on me: they were leaving in 5 weeks for another company. I was devastated, but had high hopes it would all work out with whoever they brought in. The person they brought in has been anything but supportive, has quoted to me all the experience they have from all the positions they have had, has not assisted me in almost any way, and so on. Our peak time has arrived, we are so severely understaffed that we will not be able to operate properly and it will be a significant problem, as we do work with the government. He gave me an 'all hands on deck' speech, I've been working 10 and 12 hour days, today is the first day I have had off in 12 days but literally the minute i woke up, my work phone rang with a major situation happening. My boss strolls in for barely an 8 hour shift and says nearly nothing to me.
My entire life has changed in these past couple of months professionally and personally. I dont eat right, I can fall asleep but dont sleep for long, all I think about is work work work. I get up in the morning to go to work and sometimes I sit in my car for up to 30 mins contemplating going in. Walking into work everyday I'm shaking. I have periods of my heart racing at time when I'm just sitting there. I cant concentrate on the work I even need to be doing, its just constant worry. I have 4 weeks of vacation and 5 days of sick (I havent had a vacation of more than a day in 2 years), so I attempted to visit a doctor and try to get some kind of stress leave for a period of time as I'm eligible for FMLA. The doctor wouldnt put me off, prescribed me Xanax and told me to go see a psychiatrist. I'm trying to get in with my wife's doctor, but since I'm not established there it takes time. I've been looking for other work but havent been called for anything. I talked to my wife about this and had just a straight up emotional breakdown and while she knows im suffering at this job, she would lose her medical coverage if I quit. Being on leave at least I can keep my medical. I may be able to get something on our states medical exchange, but its a higher deductible, higher out of pocket max (which both have already been hit on what we have).
What do I do? I dont want to go nuclear and just quit, but I'm headed right towards that.

My mother had been ill for my entire life. Lots of chronic illness and things they couldn't quite pin down to an exact cause, but were nonetheless there. She had cancer twice in my life, and that was the easy stuff compared to this. My parents didn't get along and were separated. When I was around 10~ she made a deal with my dad. She would get back with him on the condition he helped raise my sister and I.
Well, to say the least, he was still a pretty shitty person. I don't think he has a bad heart, but he certainly is not upto the task of taking care of other human beings. Taking care of my mother essentially got sicced off to my sister and I. She would have grand-mal seizures, blood pool in her legs and come out off blisters that would develop all black, have these weird age regression episodes and all sorts of other medical disasters. She was extremely narcoleptic between when I was about 10 and 16 (this is when she had the regression things too). She also had a rare condition called Addison's which means she couldn't really control her emotional responses and didn't produce the proper hormones. So when my dad would be a dick it'd put her into shock and she'd start turning blue. When this happened you'd have to give her a solu-cortef emergency injection to bring her back into a state of not dying from shock.
My dad was of course clueless and left this all up to my sister and I when we were adolescents, pre-teens and teenagers. I had severe social anxiety my entire life and stunted social development. My mom advocated to put me into home-school after 7th grade since she thought I might do something drastic. I was in home school until we moved to be with my dad as well because of it. She was always my strongest advocate and understood me like no one else on the planet did.
Anyways, to continue her little story. I got sent off to a specialty clinic thousands of miles away with her. Just her and I no one else when I was 14. I lived in a hotel for about a year and then in an apartment near the clinic after that for another year with her. Taking care of her when she could barely move. There was a good half dozen times she was on the brink of death and we barely scrapped by. There was times her heart literally stopped or she completely ceased breathing only to be resuscitated. She would forget who I was for days at a time and regress to being a teenager. She would think I was her brother who molested her when she was little and get moderately violent or irritable towards me (understandably, from her perspective. I do not hold it against her at all). In her times of lucidity she begged me to return to my home with my father. She forced me since she thought she'd really hurt me and my bestfriends father (not even my own father) drove all the way down and picked me up. He drove me thousands of miles all the way back. My dad sent my sister out to take care of her instead for the last year (of 3 she spent down there).
Well, eventually she and my sister came back. I started working at 16 pretty much right after I got home because university was certainly not in the cards economically anymore. When they returned my mom was functional enough to live somewhat normally. She was permanently immune-compromised and prone to fatigue so she was really in no state to work or anything of that sort, but my dad essentially forced her to start working after a few years. He refused to help fix her car (which had just been sitting in the garage rotting away while she had been sick all this time) and would get rough with my sister and I. This would upset my mom so much every-time that she would need her emergency injection or go into seizures. Sometimes he would pin her down or push her down and I would have to fight him off of her and this would make him more and more upset.
My sister left and ex-communicated him. So it was just my mom and I. She secretly stashed away some of her money and came up with a little plot to escape from my dad. Hired a traveling mechanic to fix her car, got extra money from her brother who she barely talked to in years because of history from their childhood. It was a whole situation. She was working in home care for elderly people and turns out one of my dad's childhood friends was on disability. So she took him in so she could take care of him in the comfort of our own home. Less stress, easier, etc.... My dad was naturally pissed for reasons only god knows for her being able to fix her car.
Anyways she finally had enough money. Her and chuck hatched an idea that she takes care of him, she gets paid, and I help with the rest of the apartment cost. I chose last second to stay with my dad. The rationale was I've seen my father have suicidal episodes and knew he was deeply troubled and not fit for the world. He is very old fashioned, only worked for his family, retired at 44 (and then went destitute because the medical debt). I mean this dude can not use a phone to save his life.... He has never written a resume because he never had to. He alienates everyone he has ever known because his ego does not match his status because of our families legacy. He thinks he is some brilliant person that knows all and is infallible no matter what. If you even challenge him he gets violently upset and angry. BUT I still was worried about him. So I stayed with him because I knew he'd be screwed alone.
My mother is much smarter than him.... So I thought she'd be okay with the situation. She was still Ill but I think I was blind to it. Having experienced it my entire life..... So I didn't go with her. Because of her fragile constitution even before she left she had a hip that had broken (and fused back together, without her even knowing), several broken ribs that had done the same, broken knee and a collapsed lung. She also got / had constant shingles because her immune system just couldn't stop it.
Anywho. My mom had been having a rough time after 5 or so months... Seemed the guy she was taking care of was running her super ragged and she was getting super worn down. Due to my stunted development I couldn't drive and my dad was no help there either. He just cash cowed me for my work money like he did to my mother. I was trying to save for a car and driving classes (I'm 24) so I could get a car and visit my mom and help her.
I finally had the resolve... enough of my dad... to admit to her that I should have gone with her. We decided I'd get a car and we would move in together just her and I. Go someplace far away and the rest would be history. She was going to be fine. I was going to be fine. I missed her dearly. When she was gone for 10 months I only saw her face twice when she dropped by. She would hug me and tell me how much she loved and misses me. She absolutely didn't want to see my dads face so I couldn't get him to bring me to where she lived. She didn't want him to know where she was in general.
She was dead less than 48 hours after we had that phone call. She overdosed on her pain medication she had taken for 20+ years while in the ICU (she was in the ICU a lot). The last person she talked to was my grandmother saying she felt like she couldn't breathe and is suffocating. I think it was an accident but I'll never know.
I know the guy she was taking care of was abusing her and that is when I decided that we should move in together. About a week before she died he shit on her carpet and would drag a bunch of homeless people into their apartment and do drugs while she was in the hospital. She kept putting him into rehab and he kept just leaving and coming back. It turns out he fakes a lot of his disability so the government helps him and so he can push people around and is just a drug addict asshole. Last conversation I ever had with her was like 36 hours before she died she asked to borrow money for her phone bill. I of course gave it to her.
After she died and we got the news, by the time we got to her apartment for her belongings everything was taken. Her safe was broken into. The entire place was desecrated and destroyed and looted. Her phone, cards, wallet, purse, car... everything gone. Luckily they left most of the sentimental stuff. There was only 2 people that could have robbed her and the police just kinda don't care.
My dad has been heartless about the whole thing. He doesn't seem to care that much and has been pushing me around harder than ever. Asking me for super large rent payments to live in his house when I told him I need to get a car. It's like he wants me to be imprisoned to him like he imprisoned my mother. Since if I leave he will be absolutely alone. I pay for anything he asks me to already. Thousands of dollars. I didn't mind helping.
I hurt so much inside, since if I went with my mom... chances are she would still be alive right now. She wouldn't have to stress herself nearly as bad ending up in the ICU... getting out and going back to work and repeating. She was always so sick her ending up in the ICU didn't even set off my mental alarms. I would have never known she was so close to death.
She was truly the closest person to me in the entire world. Not a single person was ever more important to me. She made me who I am. She was the only person I saw as not only my parent but an emotional confident. She advocated for me my entire life. She understood me. She in spite of all her own trouble was my rock and my comfort. I loved her with all my heart and I grieve her loss with that and more.
I fear for all the times only her and I shared. Only I have those memories now. I worry about the slow sands of time warping my memories and thoughts. I can never ask her "is that how you remember that". I can never ask her what she thinks of something or for her wisdom. So much of my life just with her it's like it never existed since it only exists within me now. I can never be assured the voice in my head matches her voice in life. I can never be sure she didn't die in loneliness because I didn't make a good enough effort to visit her by my own means.
She was only 48. The idea I'll have lived exactly half my life without her when I reach her age is scary to me. Even more frightening yet is the idea that once I'm old I'll have lived only a fraction of my life with her. She will fade in my memory into the distant past; a nostalgia. I fear becoming someone she wouldn't recognize. I fear every day I have to continue to live without her. When I see the blue skies I think about how it's a blue sky she will never have seen. When I see a TV show I think she would have liked it hurts me to think that I'll never know for sure. It devastates me all the questions I didn't ask her that I'll never know the answer to. What flowers did you enjoy mom?
I wish I would have been less frugal and done more for holidays and her birthday. I so desperately wish for even one hour to talk to her about all this in a final parting.
And what makes me feel just a little better? She had mostly online friends. A self proclaimed recluse. She was very much like me and shy herself. Introverted and just interested in what she was interested in without a care in the world. A lot of her friends have messaged me and other people from throughout our lives telling me how much I resemble her. Not only her physical likeness but in personality. She of course would say this to me herself when she was alive. It comforts me in a weird way to know that I'm so much like her, that I am truly in every way her son, that if I like or dislike something I can say with some confidence she probably feels the same. In a way I feel like I can really experience the things she wanted to do for her. This is the only thing that drives me forward right now. I had been incredibly suicidal until I made this realization.
It also comforts me to know how much people cared for her even when she was in her own world away from the world. When people tell me I have her kind heart and gentle soul I realize that those are qualities they saw in her and respected. And I feel great pride that people would see her in me because I loved her so dearly.
Finding meaning without the person you cared for more than anything is truly a Sisyphean task.
Love you forever and ever mom, I'll never forget you. I'll forever be your little pessimist!

Bonjour à tous,
Je cherche des conseils pour structurer mes investissements suite à plusieurs changements récents dans ma situation. Voici les éléments principaux de mon contexte :
Situation actuelle :

• Statut : SASU à l'IS
• Profession : Indépendant dans l'informatique
• Chiffre d'affaires : 140K€ par an

Nouvelle situation familiale :

• Héritage : Suite au décès de mon père, je vais obtenir 25% des parts de la société familiale (un salon de coiffure générant 120K€ par an).
• Objectif : Créer une holding pour que cette dernière soit propriétaire de ces parts. La société familiale pourrait être vendue d'ici 3 ans (+/- 100K€) , lorsque ma mère (propriétaire de 50% des parts) prendra sa retraite.X
• Patrimoine immobilier : Mon père possédait une maison en nom propre et la résidence principale de mes parents était détenue à 50/50.

Projet familial :

• Vente des biens immobiliers : Nous envisageons de vendre les deux maisons pour que ma mère puisse se racheter un nouveau logement avec sa part du patrimoine. +/- 350K€
• Création d'une SCI : Mon frère et moi envisageons de créer une SCI pour gérer cette opération. (50% ma mère , puis 25% par enfant ) Cela permettrait d'injecter une partie de notre héritage dans la nouvelle maison (+/- 150K €) de notre mère et de lui assurer une certaine sécurité financière pour l'avenir.
• Utilisation des revenus de la SASU : Ma holding pourrait injecter une partie des revenus de ma SASU dans cette SCI ce qui me permettrait de sortir des bénéfices sans être imposé à 30% sur les dividendes.

Questions :

1. Que pensez-vous de ce plan global ?
2. Quels seraient les avantages et les inconvénients de créer une holding pour détenir les parts de la société familiale ?
3. Quels seraient les avantages et les inconvénients de créer une SCI pour l'achat de la nouvelle maison de ma mère ?

Merci d'avance pour vos conseils et retours d'expérience !

Welcome to our fifth discussion of Leviathan Wakes. Hold onto your cool detective hats or your environment suits, because we finally get some answers to our mystery! This week, we will discuss Chapters 34-40. The Marginalia post is here. You can find the Schedule here.
The discussion questions are below. One note - this is a very popular book series and TV show, but please keep in mind that not everyone has read or watched already, so be mindful not to include anything that could be a hint or a spoiler! Please mark spoilers not related to this section of the book using the format > ! Spoiler text here !< (without any spaces between the characters themselves or between the characters and the first and last words).
Now brace yourselves: here comes the juice!
Chapter Summaries:
Chapter 34 - Miller: Detective Miller and the crew of the Roci board the hidden ship (the one that captured the crew of the Scopuli before destroying it), wearing environment suits because the ship has no atmosphere - someone left the doors open. They stick together at first as they move through the ship, discovering signs of a struggle, zombie vomit, and twelve torpedo tubes big enough to destroy capital ships like the Donnager or the Canterbury. Miller uses his detective skills to determine that everyone but Julie retreated to engineering. Once there, they discover a truly grisly sight: layers of human flesh and bones are sort of fused around the reactor, which has been shut down. Naomi and Holden gasp in shock and disgust, Miller turns on his cop brain to suppress emotion and view it as a crime scene, and Amos seems… calm and able to ignore the gore. The team splits up to look for more clues.
Amos stays in engineering to start up the computers and get the reactor back online. Naomi works on the ops deck to run diagnostics. Miller and Holden head to the bridge, which wasn’t affected by the fighting onboard. Miller reviews the internal feeds and finds footage showing the captured Scopuli crew being led onto the ship, stripped, and put in restraints. Julie fights back viciously but is knocked unconscious and stuffed in a locker with a jumpsuit (which is where we met her in the prologue). The crew is left in the galley for 132 hours before they decide to make a stand, but it is quickly suppressed. One of the crew is thrown out an airlock and the others are heavily restrained as they scream and cry. Just as Miller gets to the first appearance of a vomit zombie (at hour 160 of footage), Amos yells that he’s been exposed to some radiation because the human flesh blob had damaged the reactor shielding. He decides to keep working while Alex monitors his health status from the Roci.
Then Holden calls Miller over to view one of the last feeds Julie accessed. It’s a corporate presentation video created for a man named Dresden and the board of Protogen. It features a man Miller dubs “the sociopath” because of his cold, practiced smile…and because of the content. The sociopath tells the board (and us) the history of scientific discovery on Phoebe, which was thought to just be a moon and a source of water, but became a research station when a survey found complex silicon structures in the ice. Protogen was tasked with investigating and discovered that Phoebe is not a moon but evidence of a galactic biosphere: it is an alien weapon sent towards Earth 2 ⅓ billion years ago, which never made it because of orbital mechanics. Protogen has discovered that this weapon is not alive per se; rather, it is something they’ve termed the “protomolecule” which has the ability to maintain structure while replicating other systems and manipulating them at scalable rates. Of course, they alerted the proper authorities and made sure… just kidding, they’ve secretly been doing tests. The sociopath believes that whoever controls the protomolecule will gain control of all political and economic power going forward. Chillingly, the sociopath urges them to pursue large-scale testing to understand the protomolecule and its human applications. That large-scale testing is Eros.
TL;DR - Julie found evidence that Protogen has discovered an alien weapon, branded it the “protomolecule”, and secretly tested it on the people of Eros (and probably other smaller tests). The entire war has just been a distraction.
Chapter 35 - Holden: Naomi explains that most of the messages on the comm logs have been coded, but the last one is in plain text: the captain informed Thoth Station that the ship was contaminated, everyone was about to die, and the “materials” had been secured. He also planned to send vector data so they could find the ship. The Roci crew put two and alien-symbol-for-two together: they figure out that the captain has locked protomolecule samples in his safe. They also decide that the tightbeam messages were being sent to a secret research station Protogen was using to monitor the Eros experiment. Even though the fact “Naomi is the best” is a proven concept on par with “space is cold”, she is NOT able to open the captain’s safe, so they decide to cut it out of the wall and bring it with them on the Roci. They also scuttle the ship so no one can a) recover the stealth technology and alien weapons, or b) get exposed to the protomolecule-human soup inside. (Amos would have preferred to hack the frozen dead body goo off the reactor with a chainsaw and salvage such an impressive and expensive ship, which is… another way to go.)
It’s clear that someone else with stealth tech is searching actively for this ship, but the Roci won’t see them coming so they decide to get the hell out of Dodge. Naomi jokes that their options include turning the safe over to the OPA (they’d be heroes), selling out to Mars (they’d be rich), or starting their own biotech firm (just kidding, that’s evil). When Miller checks in with Holden about a decision on where to go next, he drops a figurative bomb on him regarding actual bombs in the news. Since Holden did his best Edward Snowden impersonation and leaked the data that the mystery ships are from Earth, Mars asked a few too many questions and in response, Earth has blown up a whole bunch of Martian ships and destroyed the Deimos deep radar station. Miller ruefully gives Holden credit for sticking to his guns about his belief in “free information”. He also points out that Holden’s principles make him responsible for all those deaths and the destruction of the Earth-Mars Coalition… and possibly the universe as they know it.
Chapter 36 - Miller: The war between Mars and the Belt seems like no big deal now that Earth and Mars are fighting. Miller watches the news feeds as the conflict turns into a blockade, and he realizes he is steeling himself for an announcement of a planetary attack on Earth or Mars, but it never comes. He and Amos deal with the stress by having beer for breakfast.
Miller meets up with Holden in the med bay for their routine blood flushes and cancer treatments, and they reopen their debate about what to do with the data files and who is to blame for the war(s).

• Holden’s position: Broadcast everything to everyone! (I know, I know, so out of character, right?) People will understand that they’ve been set up and will turn their wrath on Protogen instead of each other. Also, these are ancient conflicts. The Belt has always hated Mars and the inner planets in general. Mars and Earth have always had animosities secretly brewing and they do military training for the inevitable showdown. Or as Miller puts it, “Not my powder keg; I just brought the match.”
• Miller’s position: Stop and consider what people will do if they hear an Earth company did this. Every other data leak has been used as an excuse to shoot at someone the other side doesn’t like. Also, people suck. They aren’t going to hold hands and sing Kumbaya just because Protogen is the bad guy. They’ll move on to shooting each other so they can be the ones to control the protomolecule. Or as Holden puts it, “Maybe Protogen is a little right. People are too dumb to be trusted with big information so we should keep hard, scary stuff a big secret. That’ll totally work out.”

Holden’s idealism starts to fade as he takes in Miller’s hard truths about humanity. To be fair, Miller loses a little idealism over his perceptions of the inner planets’ relationship which, to the Belt, seemed stable and friendly enough (and united against them). Miller encourages Holden to use Naomi’s judgment as a measuring stick for whether something is right (similar to how he uses illusion-Julie as his conscience and sounding board) and then he goes back to the news feeds to watch Ceres slowly collapse into chaos. Holden decides the only person and place he trusts - or at least doesn’t completely distrust - is Fred Johnson on Tycho Station, so they head there. Holden also wonders why they don’t just destroy the safe and make sure everyone stays away from Eros and Phoebe; Miller admits it’s because the protomolecule might just be the holy grail.
Chapter 37 - Holden: The crew of the Roci is taking a break from doom scrolling to cook fake space lasagna for dinner and bond over the food and conversation. As Holden watches the crew laugh at Amos’s belches and Miller’s wild story about cheese smuggling, he reflects that they represent all three prongs of the conflict: Naomi and Miller are Belters, Amos and he are from Earth, and Alex is from Mars. Yet they’re friends, and Holden knows this is what they have to fight for. The cheese smuggling makes no sense to Amos (why cheese and not drugs?), and Naomi points out that this illustrates how little people from the inner planets understand Belters. Earthers have free air and easy access to resources, while Belters know everything that sustains life is rare and their access to it is fragile. And this is why Protogen didn’t blink an eye before killing 1.5 million Belters on Eros: they’re “other”. Then Alex points out that this doesn’t make sense; it's a risky and unnecessarily complicated way to kill people just to satisfy prejudices. It becomes clear that Eros isn’t a hate crime, it’s a vacuum-sealed test tube to let the protomolecule learn how to do its job better by giving it access to a huge amount of biomass. The early transformations looked incomplete, as if it didn’t know how to work with human flesh yet, so Protogen was giving it a chance to train. Holden wants to know where they would even find enough people who would support an evil operation like this, and Miller promises to ask Dresden (the Protogen board member mentioned in the video) when they meet him. Something tells me that conversation won’t go well.
As the Roci approaches Tycho station, Holden and Miller take in the view of the Nauvoo, the partially constructed Mormon generation ship. When Miller says the Mormans may be in for a long and lonely death if they don’t find a habitable planet, Holden notes that this is the good kind of galactic exploration humans can accomplish (the protomolecule being the bad kind). Miller then asks Holden why he trusts Fred, and Holden explains that in addition to being the only person who hasn’t tried to jail them or blow them up since all this began, Fred is “real OPA”: he’s a politician and not part of the war-mongering factions who think they can survive indefinitely without the inner planets. When Miller points out that there isn’t a political solution to Protogen, Holden insists Fred has other skills, too. Later, Fred reads through all the information on the protomolecule and is incredulous that anyone could think to do this. Miller assures him that genocide is an old-school crime and it’s important that they stop it. Holden offers up the location of the observation station in exchange for enough OPA fighters to take down Protogen, and the right to retain custody of the safe and its contents. Fred agrees only after Holden points out that no one else can be trusted to do the right thing with a secret this big. Plus, he says Fred already knows what Holden will do with it.
Chapter 38 - Miller: It feels strange to Miller to explore the wide open spaces of Tycho Station, the fanciest place he has ever set foot on. He notices Naomi working on her hand terminal and letting her food get cold; she is too preoccupied with trying to figure out the location of the station to enjoy the amenities. As they talk, Miller is reminded of Havelock’s advice to just let go when he got pulled off a case, which jogs his memory that Havelock actually works for Protogen! (I’m surprised he didn’t get there faster; maybe everyone had a point that he was sort of a washed up detective.) He rushes off to make contact with his old buddy - probably his last real partner ever - in an encrypted drop site of a Ganymede server cluster. As he waits for a response, Miller is amused to realize he has started thinking like Holden: he feels like someone should warn the Mormans that they could potentially run into the alien creators of the protomolecule who may want to kill them. Havelock comes through, passing along the coordinates to a “very scary deep research and development lab” and asking Miller to be discreet never contact him again so he doesn’t get killed for betraying his employer. Miller sends him an encrypted warning to quit his job ASAP and not take postings at any black ops sites, before saying goodbye for the last time to the only person that still respected him as a cop. (I may or may not be sniffling a bit at this.)
Miller rounds up Naomi and Holden so they can bring Fred the coordinates. In Fred’s office, Miller starts lecturing him about the serious nature of the mission and the need to have a solid plan with adequate firepower, not the usual OPA shenanigans. Everyone’s a little confused until they realize that Miller doesn’t know that Fred is “the butcher of Anderson Station” and a former Colonel in the Earth Navy. Fred assures Miller he’s no amateur and will plan ahead. Miller then insists that he get to come along for the assault on Thoth Station. Eight days later, the plan is set in motion and Miller begins packing his meager belongings into a very small bag, figuring he’ll never see the Roci again. Even if he makes it off Thoth alive, he’ll have to figure out a way to make money and improvise a life plan of some sort. He tries to thank Holden and say goodbye, but the Roci’s captain interrupts Miller to ask where they’ll all meet up after the mission is complete. Miller is confused at first, then overcome with emotion when he realizes Holden considers Miller part of the crew! I’m not crying, you’re crying. Actually, it’s Miller who is weeping. But he pulls himself together so he can head to the assault ship.
Chapter 39 - Holden: The Rocinante needs to sneak up on Thoth Station, so they are pretending to be a loose cargo container that broke off the Guy Molinari (the Belter ship carrying the assault team, which is pretending to be a cargo ship). They fly with everything shut down so that it’s more convincing, hoping they can get close enough to the station to do some damage before Thoth starts firing back. As they approach and are able to reboot everything needed for battle, a stealth ship is spied hanging out near Thoth Station. Then, suddenly it becomes clear that there are two small stealth ships, which will be much harder to fight off. Everyone does their jobs efficiently on the Roci, but in the ensuing battle with the stealth ships, they start to take some damage. First, the Roci is hit by a gauss cannon that goes straight through the machine shop and galley. Holden mourns his coffee maker. Amos notices a leak in the maneuvering thrusters and heads to fix it between the inner and outer hulls, which isn’t an ideal place to be floating around during a battle. This stresses Naomi out, but Holden orders everyone to stay focused. They are able to take out one of the stealth ships, but the other gets close enough to do some impressive damage to the Roci. There is major hull damage as well as loss of four maneuvering thrusters, a PDC, their O2 storage, and the crew airlock. Alex is about to destroy the second stealth ship when the Roci’s point defense cannons (PDCs) detonate an enemy warhead up close. It knocks everyone out, punches holes throughout the Roci (narrowly missing Naomi), dislodges equipment, and fills the ship with debris. Holden marvels that they are alive at all, and Alex points out that is only because the ship’s anti-spalling webbing eliminates shrapnel. They make contact with Fred, who says he’ll find them a place to land, and the Guy Molinari prepares for the assault on Thoth Station. It’s Miller’s turn to shine!
Chapter 40 - Miller: On the Guy Molinari, Miller is talking to a Belter kid named Diogo as they wait for the assault to start. Miller realizes that while he has fancy Martian armor from the Roci and experience with gunfights in station corridors, he is surrounded by inexperienced young Belters with borrowed gear, and he will likely have to watch dozens of them die during the battle. But Diogo isn’t worried; he is confident and eager to get started. Fred announces that they are ready to start boarding since the Roci gave them the “all clear”, and Miller is happy to hear his friends have survived. The assault on the station starts off rough, with Protogen soldiers fighting them in the corridors and automatic defense lasers taking out some of the Belters in the first wave. But Fred knows how to command his OPA “troops” and keep them in line, and things start to go more smoothly as they slow down and maneuver carefully. Miller and Diogo are part of a group taking shelter at Fred’s direction and fending off Protogen counterattacks, and they start to talk during a lull. When two Protogen soldiers sneak up on them from behind, Diogo is hit and Miller chastises himself for chatting during a battle and not staying alert. He thinks Diogo is dead, but he pops up laughing and streaked with white goo from crowd suppression rounds, which Miller finds an odd choice of weapon. It’s the first sign that Thoth Station may not totally understand what’s happening. The OPA soldiers cut their way through the blast doors to get to the operations center, where they find Dresden (the dude mentioned in the sociopath’s Protogen video). Fred arrives to take command of the station, and Dresden offers to negotiate, clearly misunderstanding the reason for the assault. He offers to give the OPA whatever resources they need to go back to fighting their war (money, medical supplies, weapons, ordnance) if they’ll just leave and let the station get back to their very important work. Fred points out that they know about Eros, but Dresden insists no one knows what they did there, and there won’t be a better bargaining position for Fred when Earth sends its battleships. Fred basically calls Dresden Satan, but Dresden doesn’t understand the reference.

For starters im 19 M and recently going through my freshman year of college I’ve began to smoke weed a lot more than I did in highschool. In the second semester of school it became almost an everyday habit. I thought I would add that in the beginning just to see if anyone else smoked and to narrow down if that could be an issue, anyways…
About a year ago I got my first and my worst sinus infection ever. My head and cavities were in the worst pain I’ve ever had and the doctor gave me a z pack. After about a week of heat presses, advil, antibiotics, etc, it finally went away. Since then I always noticed my sinus cavities still tender to the touch, and still producing pain whenever pressed on. I carried on and tried not to get too worried. The pain for the months to follow wasn’t extreme enough to give me any concern, yet I did notice some mornings it would hurt more than others. In the months following the first infection I’d say I’ve probably had about 5-6 other infections on a smaller scale. While they aren’t as bad as they first were, I know that getting that many infections can’t be normal.
I kept going to doctors at school and even at home during breaks and they would just prescribe me amoxicillin or some other antibiotic and stereoid. Sure they did temporality relieve my issues, but the pain when I pressed on my cavities never went away, and I still would get reoccurring ones. After becoming paranoid and worried with my health anxiety I am now worried this is cancer or something more serious. Now that I’m home I’m trying to schedule an appointment with an ENT but my doctor (the same one who prescribed my antibiotics twice and dismissed my chronic pain) is now making the process much harder and taking days to even answer the phone.
The pain isn’t so unbearable to the point of ruining my life, but it’s a growing concern I’ve had for the last few months and I just want to go back to normal. It’s gotten to the point where I feel like it’ll never be fixed, or it’s to the point of no return. To be fair the other posts on this sub have assured me because it seems like I don’t have it nearly as bad as others. My first guess is nasal polyps.
If you have any advice please respond, and thank you for reading.

N.B. this Spanish journalist, Pilar Vidal, is not the Spanish journalist Concha Calleja who reported on Kate's alleged medical induced coma, also in January. More on Calleja's reporting here KateMiddletonMissing/comments/1c5horx/the_original_and_complete_january_reporting_about/
A thread on possible hysterectomy scenarios, interesting info KateMiddletonMissing/comments/1bmigg6/hysterectomy/
Hysterectomy was the #1 AI-hypothesized reason, apparently KateMiddletonMissing/comments/1c4o78s/possible_cancers/
Source: https://informalia.eleconomista.es/casas-reales/noticias/12637935/01/24/se-desvela-el-motivo-por-el-que-han-operado-de-urgencia-a-kate-middleton-una-histerectomia.html
Spanish to English via Google Translate

Royal Houses: The reason why Kate Middleton had emergency surgery is revealed: "A hysterectomy"
Kensington does not reveal what the princess's ailment is but assures that it is not a "cancerous process"
William's wife will remain hospitalized for 10 to 14 days
Informalia
Jan 23, 2024 - 22:14
The United Kingdom has been on tenterhooks since Buckingham Palace announced last Thursday that the Princess of Wales had undergone abdominal surgery. They did not reveal the reason for the operation but they did say that she would be admitted to the hospital for 10 to 14 days and on medical leave until Easter. The growth of rumors forced them to clarify that it was not a "cancerous process" but this Tuesday they have returned with force when the reason that could have led Kate Middleton to surgery was revealed (unofficially): "A hysterectomy".
This has been revealed by Pilar Vidal in Espejo Público. [Hysterectomy] is a surgery by which the female reproductive system (uterus, fallopian tubes and ovaries) is removed. It can be due to several diagnoses: painful and heavy menstrual bleeding, cervical dysplasia, endometriosis, uterine prolapse. Experts say that none of them involve a hospitalization as long as the one they have announced in the case of Kate Middleton but, as we said, Kensington neither confirms nor denies.
Last weekend, in addition, some other information was leaked that did not exactly help to reassure the interested parties. Neither the admission nor the surgical intervention of the princess have been "planned", as the official statement assured: "The operation has been urgent". William's wife was admitted to hospital on December 28 after experiencing discomfort that had worsened in recent days. The decision to announce the situation through a statement, given the secrecy of the British Royal House, was due to "post-operative problems".
The family and institutional situation has been complicated by the entry of King Charles III, announced a few hours after that of his daughter-in-law. The 75-year-old monarch will undergo surgery to remove a benign tumor in his prostate. In this case there seems to be more tranquility and even Queen Camilla has responded to questions from the press without a hint of concern: "He's fine, looking forward to getting back to work."

Bonjour,
Je suis en pleine démarches avec une banque afin d'obtenir un crédit immobilier avec un PTZ-2024.
Dans leur proposition il me propose un PTZ sur 15 ans au montant de 86.000€ et la conseillère de la banque m'a assuré avoir demandé confirmation du montant. En regardant les nouvelles conditions du PTZ-2024 et en le calculant moi-même je ne tombe pas sur le même montant.
Pour référence : - nous sommes 2 a faire un crédit, - notre revenu N-2 est ~ 20.000€, - le logement est un projet neuf VEFA en zone A, - le logement coûte ~ 450.000€
Je calcule donc avec les infos ici: https://www.pap.facheteuaides-achat/le-pret-a-taux-zero-ptz-pour-l-achat-d-un-logement-en-2023/a1763
Que : - revenu N-2 < 73.500€ : éligibilité OK - projet (450.000/9) 51.000€ < 73.500€ : éligibilité OK - en zone A neuf avec QF < 25.000€ (tranche 1) nous avons le droit a 50% du prix et est plafonné pour 2 a 225.000€ Donc en toute logique le prêt devrait permettre d'atteindre 112.500€?
Est-ce que vous savez si je me trompe et si non comment approcher ceci avec la banque pour essayer d'obtenir le max du PTZ ?
Merci !

Depuis plusieurs mois, j’ai des rots très très fréquents: toutes les 5sec par moment, et en moyenne toutes les 2min, et ça dure toute la journée et même la nuit quand je me réveille. C’est vraiment seulement un renvoi d’air, ça ne ressemble pas un RGO par exemple.
Pour contexte, j’ai eu beaucoup de problèmes d’alimentation, suite à un cancer ORL. J’ai eu une sonde naso-gastrique pendant 6 mois et je ne me nourris qu’avec des compléments alimentaires. J’ai une nutrition parentérale qui assure la plupart de mes besoins, mais j’essaie de retrouver une alimentation normale petit à petit. J’ai pas mal d’autres pathologies et beaucoup de médicaments mais a priori sans rapport avec ces rots: j’avais ces traitements avant l’apparition des rots et ils n’ont pas changé.
Les rots ont commencé quand j’avais la sonde, elle est maintenant enlevée mais les rots sont toujours là. Je n’ai pas changé d’alimentation, toujours les mêmes compléments alimentaires.
J’ai déjà passé plusieurs examens, scanner et fibroscopie, mais pour l’instant, les médecins ne trouvent pas la cause.
Je tente ma chance ici, est ce que vous auriez des pistes à explorer? Eu des symptômes similaires? Ou un moyen pour diminuer la fréquence des rots?
(J’ai bien sûr parler de tout ça à mes médecins, mais ça fait plusieurs mois que ça dure sans aucun progrès, je commence à désespérer un peu)

Bonjour,
Je suis chef de projet IT indépendant. Pour le moment j’exerce en portage salarial mais je suis en train de créer ma structure en essayant de l’adapter au mieux à l'objectif de prendre ma retraite et de vivre des revenus du capital (FIRE pour les intimes) dans une quinzaine d’années. J’ai 34 ans.
Mon raisonnement est le suivant : là où aujourd’hui il faut soustraire les cotisations patronales (45%), salariales (25%) et l’impôt sur le revenu (10-15%) de mon chiffre d’affaires pour obtenir le montant que je peux investir, demain en société je n’aurai à soustraire qu’un salaire “minimum” (30k net après IR), les cotisations sociales (45% du net en EURL) et l’impôt sur les sociétés sur le reste (25% max). Cela me permet d’investir davantage et donc de faire croître le patrimoine plus vite.
En mettant de côté en moyenne 50k€ par an selon les durées des missions et l’évolution de mon TJM, je projette d’atteindre 1,5-2M€ de patrimoine autour de mes 50 ans. J’ai aujourd’hui 130k€ placés et je facture 700€/j.
La question se pose ensuite de la forme juridique et de comment sortir l’argent de la société. Je pars a priori sur une EURL, qui devrait me permettre une fois la “retraite” prise de continuer de me verser un salaire à partir de l’argent capitalisé, avec 45% de cotisations sociales. C’est plus que les 30% de PFU que je paierais en sortant l’argent en dividendes via une SASU, mais cela me permet même sans travailler de continuer de cotiser à la retraite et à l’assurance maladie, que je pourrai alors toucher le moment venu (on croise les doigts).
Etant actuellement locataire, la question se pose aussi de la propriété immobilière. Je vois deux options :

• Continuer de louer à 950€/mois cc à Paris pendant les 15 ans à venir et acheter ensuite une RP sans emprunt à partir du capital (cible de 300k en province à 500k€ à Paris)
• Ou m’endetter maintenant pour acheter à Paris où je dois être pour travailler, ce qui mobiliserait la majeure partie de mon épargne actuelle (20% d’apport sur un bien à 400k ferait 80k€), m’obligerait à me payer un salaire plus élevé via l’EURL, ce qui augmenterait mes charges sociales et réduirait considérablement ma capacité d’épargne.

La première option paraît s’imposer. Reste à savoir si je peux acheter un bien avec la société et m’en servir comme résidence principale. Mes premières recherches semblent conclure que oui, à condition de payer un loyer à la société ou de valoriser celui-ci comme une rémunération en nature donnant lieu au paiement de cotisations sociales et de l’IR.
Je ne veux pas d’enfants et ma copine non plus. Nous ne sommes pas ensemble depuis longtemps donc je pars du principe que ma partenaire travaille et subvient à ses propres besoins.
Quelques points restent sans réponse à ce stade :

• Faut-il penser à investir également dans l’immobilier locatif plutôt que 100% marchés financiers ? Le coût du crédit actuellement fait réfléchir, mais ça donnerait de la résilience à mon patrimoine en cas de crise ou de période d'inflation
• Est-il vraiment possible de se payer un salaire à partir du capital de la société pendant plusieurs dizaines d’années sans revenus ? Comptablement, n’est-ce pas un déficit qui sera reporté d’année en année ? Je ne maîtrise pas les conséquence fiscales et comptables

Que pensez-vous de cette feuille de route ? Est-ce réaliste ? Y en a-t-il parmi vous qui ont fait le choix de capitaliser et/ou d’acheter leur RP via leur société plutôt qu’en tant que personne physique ?

Bonjour,
Je suis chef de projet IT indépendant. Pour le moment j’exerce en portage salarial mais je suis en train de créer ma structure en essayant de l’adapter au mieux dans une optique de FIRE dans une quinzaine d’années (j’ai 34 ans).
Mon raisonnement est le suivant : là où aujourd’hui il faut soustraire les cotisations patronales (45%), salariales (25%) et l’impôt sur le revenu (10-15%) de mon chiffre d’affaires pour obtenir le montant que je peux investir, demain en société je n’aurai à soustraire qu’un salaire “minimum” (30k net après IR), les cotisations sociales (45% du net en EURL) et l’impôt sur les sociétés sur le reste (25% max). Cela me permet d’investir davantage et donc de faire croître le patrimoine plus vite.
En mettant de côté en moyenne 50k€ par an selon les durées des missions et l’évolution de mon TJM, je projette d’atteindre 1,5-2M€ de patrimoine autour de mes 50 ans (https://engaging-data.com/fire-calculato). J’ai aujourd’hui 130k€ placés, TJM de 700€.
La question se pose ensuite de la forme juridique et de comment sortir l’argent de la société. Je pars a priori sur une EURL, qui me permettra, une fois la “retraite” prise, de continuer de me verser un salaire à partir de l’argent capitalisé, avec 45% de cotisations sociales. C’est plus que les 30% de PFU que je paierais en sortant l’argent en dividendes via une SASU, mais cela me permet même sans travailler de continuer de cotiser à la retraite et à l’assurance maladie, que je pourrai alors toucher le moment venu.
Etant actuellement locataire, la question se pose aussi de la propriété immobilière. Je vois deux options :

• Continuer de louer (actuellement 950€ mensuels CC à Paris) pendant les 15 ans à venir et acheter ensuite une RP sans emprunt à partir du capital (cible de 300k en province à 500k€ à Paris)
• Ou m’endetter maintenant pour acheter à Paris où je dois être pour travailler, ce qui mobiliserait la majeure partie de mon épargne actuelle (20% d’apport sur un bien à 400k ferait 80k€), m’obligerait à me payer un salaire plus élevé via l’EURL, ce qui augmenterait mes charges sociales et réduirait considérablement ma capacité d’épargne.

La première option paraît s’imposer (https://www.lafinancepourtous.com/calculateurs/louerouachetelouer_ou_acheter.php). Reste à savoir si je peux acheter un bien avec la société et m’en servir comme résidence principale. Mes premières recherches semblent conclure que oui, à condition de payer un loyer à la société ou de valoriser celui-ci comme une rémunération en nature donnant lieu au paiement de cotisations sociales et de l’IR.
Je ne veux pas d’enfants et ma copine non plus. Nous ne sommes pas ensemble depuis longtemps donc je pars du principe que ma partenaire travaille et subvient à ses propres besoins.
Quelques points restent sans réponse à ce stade :

• Faut-il penser à investir également dans l’immobilier locatif plutôt que 100% marchés financiers ? Le coût du crédit actuellement fait réfléchir, mais ça donnerait de la résilience à mon patrimoine en cas de crise ou de période d'inflation
• Est-il vraiment possible de se payer un salaire à partir du capital de la société pendant plusieurs dizaines d’années sans revenus ? Comptablement, n’est-ce pas un déficit qui sera reporté d’année en année ? Je ne maîtrise pas les conséquence fiscales et comptables

Que pensez-vous de cette feuille de route ? Y en a-t-il parmi vous qui ont fait le choix de capitaliser et/ou d’acheter leur RP via leur société plutôt qu’en tant que personne physique ?

Bonjour,
Il y a quelques années j'ai acheté un véhicule pour environ 7000€ ( une bmw série 3 e46 coupé dans une configuration sympathique )
J'ai toujours eu un véhicule plus classique a côté pour mes trajets quotidiens, j'adore ma bmw mais des frais d'entretiens assez conséquents s'annoncent ( +/- 2000€ ) et depuis un certain temps je cherche a optimiser au mieux mes finances pour pouvoir prendre le meilleur départ dans la vie autonome.
Pour tout vous dire j'ai 27 ans et je suis toujours logé chez mes parents, je bosse depuis 3 ans avec un salaire de 1900€ par mois, chaque mois 400€ sont investis dans mon PEA et environ 800€ sont mis de côté, le reste pars dans les frais.
Je prévois de partir en location vers mes 30 ans, voir plus tôt si je rencontre l'âme soeur (LOL), l'achat immobilier me paraît inenvisageable pour le moment.
Je suis tiraillé entre le fait de faire les réparations sur ma voiture pour tenter de la revendre aux horizons 2030 ou bien la vendre tout de suite, sachant que la cote est déjà montée aux alentours des 12 000 €
Le modèle étant de plus en plus rare, le prix ne peut que mécaniquement monter, le seul risque c'est une interdiction ou une restriction d'utilisation de ce genre de véhicule, voir un accident, j'ai eu une très mauvaise expérience des assurances qui font tout pour payer le moins possible.
Si je reprends l'exemple des 205 Gti et la mode "Young timer", je peux sûrement envisager une vente entre 20 000 et 40 000 euros dans 10 ans, je pense qu'à ce moment ça pourra me servir de coup de pouce pour fonder un foyer (LOL).
Donc si vous avez un avis sur cette problématique cela m'aiderait bien merci, cela me paraît être un investissement très "volatile" plus guidé par les émotions qu'autre chose, mais tout de même ça pourrait marcher.

My friend sometime ago told me about their friends kid diagnosed with cancer. The kid is 5-6 years old. Ever since then it’s like I have developed the most worst fear of the same for my baby. My baby is one year and half. I keep frantically checking her neck lymph nodes all the time. Somedays it gets worst. I have been actively trying to shift my mind but I never realised itd be this hard. Checking her is almost like an addiction. I need the assurance 24/7 that she’s fine. And all of this is honestly destroying my happy moments with my family.
Any advice on how to deal with such thoughts?