For everyone who has nursed a little crush on Tim Curry, I'm about to make it worse, here's Tim doing an interview in French. He's discussing 'Hair' in 1969. Look at him saying the word "philosophy" at 0:32.
On Hantavirus: a (non-technical) thread.
Disclaimer: I am a biology PhD, but not virology/epidemiology. Husbandman is a virology PhD. But I’m told I’m good at communicating science, so here’s my take.
#Hantavirus
A few years ago, I had a terrifying experience while staying alone in a hotel.
At 6am, I was jolted awake by a man trying to get into my room - throwing his weight against the door again and again.
I couldn’t reach reception, so I called the police.
The call handler stayed on the line, coached me through what to say to get him to leave. Then called hotel reception staff to send help (they were useless) - and rang back later to check I was okay.
But hotel staff seemed irritated by the police involvement. When I checked out, they told me it was “just a drunk man" who said he'd got the wrong room.
At 6am in the morning.
A drunk man who may well have intended to attack or r*pe a woman.
Later, a male colleague said he felt I’d overreacted by calling the police. At times, I've wondered if he was right.
Today, a friend has told me she’s been diagnosed with PTSD - after a similar incident in a hotel.
Only her man stood outside her hotel room m*sturb*ting. He’d seen her earlier that night and knew she was alone.
She tried to call reception - but the number on the keycard was wrong. The website too.
Like me, she felt trapped in her room - so she called the police. They were brilliant - arrived quickly and arrested him.
But the hotel staff barely apologised.
The council housing the man in the hotel (despite his criminal record) didn’t seem to care either.
Turns out there was no CCTV in the corridors either.
And here’s the thing that stays with me:
I was made to feel like I’d overreacted.
But what I feared - the very thing women are so often told we’re imagining - happened to someone else.
Because of course, it does.
What a great story!!! 😃🚘
In 1966, 22-year-old Kathleen bought a VW Beetle she named “Annie.”
57 years and 400k miles later, Kathleen (now 78) still drives her to work every day.
When VW heard her story, they fully restored Annie for free.
When Kathleen saw her again, she said, “She’s my family. She’s just old, not useless.”
Nothing but respect to the very young barrister on Chancery Lane in the dark drizzle eating M&S chocolate rolls directly from the bucket and holding two cans of mojito under each arm. We’ve all had days like that mate.
Hi Internet! I'm Drew and THIS IS MY FACE.
If this GIF has ever brought you joy in the past, I humbly ask you to consider making a donation to the National MS Society. It would mean a lot to me and to those I know affected by the disease!
Donate at https://t.co/cHLs9sKqix
Right, well this is legitimately rage-inducing shit… fair warning ⚠️
Firstly, to my badass group of X warriors who kept this entirely wrapped in complete secrecy: God knows how, but kudos to you all — I adore how you’ve respected my dignity and privacy through this time. Thank you my dear friends …
OK…. There is no easy way to say this, but I have a huge tumour in my uterus.
It’s been measured at 4.5 cm in size. I have been sick for months; pretty much every blood/cell test is off, and the side effects are - let’s just say - devastating. I am now popping 15 pills a day .. joy.
For years I was told by the medical world I was anxious, suffering from panic attacks - “calm down dear, have some (more) diazepam”… sssh, go away…
This summer I collapsed from cervical shock (new to me too) and was rushed to hospital where (finally, FINALLY) a specialist gynaecologist did an ultrasound; a ridiculously cheap scan that took 15 minutes at most and found this giant tumour.
I am now on the waiting list for urgent risky surgery because I have no choice. I *have* to take the risk or face the other alternative I cannot even mention.
Livelihood gone. Life enjoyment gone. Just trying not to bleed to death before I get on the surgeon’s table, not a joke.
If I need chemo/radiation beyond this then I can only imagine the impact on my life and family.
If this tumour eventually unalives me, I want my message to be the strongest possible: medical misogyny is killing women, daily.
If you’re going through this - be loud. Be that “obnoxious, hysterical unhinged” woman. They think that of us anyway, so it might just save your life.
Am I angry? I am fucking FURIOUS. Sure, the NHS is free but its cost me almost everything.
I am a mother, a breadwinner, a friend. I love my family. I have been on an emotional death spiral for months now because I wasn’t believed.
“Oh, heavy periods, pain, feeling dizzy, fast heart rate - pfft, woman, ssshhhhh, stop bothering us.” [internal screaming]
Women, revolt. Please.