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Twilight Zone – Part 3 of 3
Summary: A creature from their past revisits the boys in their time of grief. Will they be able to put aside their feelings and deal with this old threat? Set directly after ELAC (S2).
Dean was at least used to the way Sam stilled and stared when he was "talking" to the Memory Demon, but the frequency with which the visits were rolling over Sam was freaking Dean out. Under the healing cuts and bruises on his brother's face, the skin was pallid. Dark pouches under his eyes that bespoke of exhaustion.
And the exhaustion, as much as Sam's continuing insistence on forming a bond with that thing, were scaring the hell out of Dean. They'd lost so much recently and now his brother was jeopardizing his health and that did not fly at all with Dean.
He'd taken Bobby's words to heart and tried to do things Sammy's way and it just wasn't working.
Sam was furiously scribbling in a notebook between bouts of the conversations; one moment he would be scrawling illegibly on the paper and the next the pen would drop from nerveless fingers as Sam's eyes lost their focus and all movement save breathing ceased. It was beyond creepy.
His brother was sitting out on Bobby's swing on the porch, and a light breeze tugged and tossed brown strands of hair across Sam's face haphazardly. He had spent a good fifteen minutes observing Sam, who had gone mind walkabout again, and Dean was formulating a plan. It wasn't nice, in fact it was pretty devious, but Dean didn't delude himself — he'd do whatever it took to get his only family back, safe and sound.
A shiver rippled through Sam's body and then he was blinking dazed eyes, staring at Dean in confusion. This was another aspect of the routine that Dean found loathsome — his little brother should never be that disoriented.
Sliding an arm around Sam's thin shoulders, Dean tried to bolster his brother's flagging strength. "What do you say we head indoors, maybe find you something to eat?"
Sam sighed, dragging a shaky hand through his hair. "I'm not really hungry."
His brother's voice was hollow. Dean could feel him slipping away and decided it was time to act. "Come on, you'll be more comfortable inside."
Dean tugged Sam up and steadied him when he swayed, before guiding him in to the living room and settling him on the worn couch. He wanted to make Sam comfortable and trusting; he needed to know
where the Memory Demon was and get an idea of its weakness. It was time to put an end to this farce. "So, any luck with information on old Yellow Eyes?"
Dragging a hand across his face, Sam frowned. "No, not yet. But now that it's closer by, I can hear it better. It's failing. It won't be around much longer."
Suppressing the urge to roll his eyes — Sam was failing every bit as much as that demon — Dean tried to sound sensitive and sympathetic. "Well, is there anything we can do to help it? Make it more comfortable or something?"
He was flat out fishing for information, and the fact that Sam was letting himself be suckered by Dean's facade told him a great deal about his brother's condition. "It needs to be kept moist but the pond is taking care of that. There's really nothing we can do except wait."
Mournful was a good word to describe Sam's voice. His brother was grieving for that cursed demon even as it tried to destroy him. Of course Sam would never see it, so it was up to Dean to take care of him and damn the consequences. "Oh, the pond at the edge of Bobby's property? That thing is practically dried up. Are you sure it'll be okay?"
Desperation flashed across Sam's face. "What do you mean the pond is almost dry? It needs that water otherwise it will wither up and die. And it can't, not until I find out more."
Sam was on the edge of hysteria and it tugged at Dean's heart. His voice was cracking and pleading and Dean didn't think his brother was going to like what he was going to do to his new friend.
Sam had just unwittingly given him the information he needed to find and destroy the creature.
Now he had to take steps to neutralize Sam while he took care of the demon. "It's okay, Sam. If it just needs to keep moist, there's enough of the pond left. Just relax. In fact, how about I get you a couple of Tylenol? You look like you have a headache."
Dean was willing Sam to go along with his plan. He thought maybe if he gave Sam a couple of Demerol or Percocet, his brother would just drift off to la-la land and be none the wiser. And maybe if he was zonked out, the demon couldn't get its filthy, creepy tentacles into his brother's brain and muck around.
Leaning his head back against the couch, his brother accepted Dean's offer. "Yeah, that would be good. I can't seem to shake this headache."
It was hard not to say something snarky but Dean held back. Sure, his little brother couldn't shake his headache because he had something supernatural pawing around in his brain almost 24/7.
Loping upstairs, Dean pulled items out of his bag helter skelter as he searched for his emergency stash of painkillers. They had pills in their first aid kit, but it was always good to have something as back up. His hands finally landed on a bottle of Percocet. He shook out two of the tablets before returning downstairs to the kitchen for a glass of water. His brother was such a light weight when it came to drugs that two ought to do the trick.
Sam reclined against the couch, devoid of energy. It was so unlike his brother that Dean was having a hard time looking at him. He'd just give Sam the pills, wait for them to take effect and then head out to Bobby's garage for the propane torch he'd used last week. "Here, Sammy, this should help."
Without opening his eyes, Sam took the pillows and swallowed them down. "Thanks, Dean. I just want to write a few things down while I remember them. Do you know where the pen went?"
Sam's hand was casting about for the pen, his movements disjointed and haphazard. His kid brother was really out of it, even when he wasn't under the demon's influence. Dean stilled his hands. "Hang on, I'll get you a pen. Just try to relax, okay?"
Dean grabbed a pen off the kitchen counter and returned in time to find Sam at the mercy of the demon again. His eyes were unblinking, his arms held rigidly at his side. Hoping that Bobby would be back soon, Dean bided his time while waiting for the pills to do their job. Perching against the kitchen door jamb, he watched his little brother fall under the spell of the demon for what he hoped would be the last time.
The sessions had been lasting ten or fifteen minutes at a crack recently, so Dean was startled when Sam gave an audible gasp and clambered to his feet after just a few. Hazel eyes darted from where Dean leaned to the front door and he ambled around the coffee table with studied nonchalance.
His little brother was aiming for the front door, uncoordinated limbs lurching along, when Dean figured out what was going on. The jig was up. Maybe the demon had read Dean's memories and squealed on him. Or maybe Sam wasn't as far gone as he'd thought. "Sam, just hold up..."
Sprinting for the door, Dean stopped when he was directly behind his bother and wrapped his arms around Sam's chest, dragging him back away from the door.
Sam bucked and jerked in Dean's arms but couldn't find the strength to break away. Continuing to draw his brother back, Dean manhandled Sam toward the couch.
The coffee table was caught by one of Sam's kicking feet and flipped over, a jarring crash filling the room. "Damn it, Sam, you're going to hurt yourself. Just calm down."
Refusing to surrender, chest heaving as lungs sucked in air, Sam weakly fought on. Dean worried that his brother was going to hyperventilate.
Throwing Sam down on the couch and practically sitting on him, Dean rubbed taut upper arms in an effort to get his brother to chill out.
Sam tried to scramble up but Dean easily caught him around the waist and pulled him back down. Yanking Sam forward against his chest, Dean locked his arms around his brother's back and tried to sooth him. "Ease up, Sam. Can't you see what this thing is doing to you?"
Warm breath panted against Dean's ear. "No, you don't understand. I have to...don't you see...you can't..."
His little brother's voice was small and worn. Broken. Dean's resolve strengthened as he tried to calm his baby brother. He had to protect Sam.
Dean was reminded of a scene from his childhood. He was 8 and heading off for the first day of third grade after summer break. Sam was 4 and had to stay with their next door neighbor, a sweet old lady named Mrs. Johnson. A meltdown ensued. It wasn't the whiny, bratty tantrum of a kid who wanted to get their way. No, Sam was all big, dark eyes in a pale face, frantically trying to rip himself out of Mrs. Johnson's arms and cling to Dean. It had broken the then 8 year old's heart and nothing had changed since then; Sam had the ability to cut to Dean's core with his emotions.
Shaking and shuddering in Dean's arms, Sam continued to babble almost incoherently about saving the demon. Dean could feel him winding down as his movement became more sluggish and he slurred his pleading entreaties.
Sam's head dropped over Dean's shoulder, his arms lax at his side. Rocking his brother from side to side, Dean could almost convince himself he was pacifying a baby Sam. When Sam ceased all signs of struggle, Dean cradled his head in one hand and tipped it off of his shoulder so he could see his brother's face. Bloodshot hazel eyes darted wildly around the room as eyelids fluttered up and down, fighting the narcotics.
Easing his brother back, Dean deposited Sam against the cushion, his long legs still splayed awkwardly in front of him with his feet resting on the floor. Hooking Sam's legs up, Dean stretched them out on the couch. Perching on the edge of the cushion, his hip nestled against Sam's, Dean drew Sam's uninjured hand between his two and rubbed it. His sibling tugged his hand, but it was in vain as Dean clung to it. "I'm sorry, Sammy. I didn't want to do this but you left me no choice. Just try to get some sleep and when you wake up, it will all be over."
Dean pushed Sam's bangs off his face and frowned when his brother tried to shy away. "No, Dean, don't do this. I'm begging you. I've got to...running out of time..."
Sam's voice was barely audible and he tossed his head from side to side, still fighting the pills. The truck door slammed out front and with it came a sense of relief. Bobby would take care of Sam while Dean got rid of the demon. Everything would be okay.
The front door banged shut. "What in tarnation is going on here?"
Rotating his head around, Dean took in the living room; coffee table flipped over, magazines scattered, an over turned lamp and water puddling on the hardwood floor from the half finished glass Sam had used to take his pills. It was a sight, and Dean wasn't surprised at the concern in Bobby's voice. And that didn't even cover his disheveled brother lying limp against the couch cushions. "I've got to do it, Bobby. It's killing him. It's at the pond at the edge of your property and the propane torch should do the trick. Will you look after Sam while I take care of it?"
A hand descended on his shoulder as he turned back to observe his brother, hiccupping and thrashing weakly in distress. "Are you sure about this? Maybe we should all go together."
Dean shook his head no. "I...I gave Sam some pills so he'll sleep. I can't chance waiting. Sam is slipping away and I have to save him."
Glancing back over his shoulder, he saw the older man frown heavily. "Please, Bobby. I can't lose Sam, too."
Bobby still wore a skeptical look but he didn't try to talk Dean out of his plan. "I'm going on record as saying this is a bad idea. But I'll watch Sam. Just be careful, Dean. I don't doubt it's dying but who knows what it will do when it's cornered."
Grateful for Bobby's support, Dean turned his attention back to his ailing sibling. "Sammy, I've got to go. Just hang in there a little longer."
Leaning forward, Dean pressed his lips to Sam's clammy forehead. It was an uncharacteristic move for him, but he was trying to get through to his brother. He touched Sam's cheek once, palming it lightly, and was relieved when Sam's eyes closed and his face relaxed.
Sam was stuck in that twilight zone between waking and sleep. He couldn't make his body obey him, sunk deep into the couch pillows, but his brain continued to fire synapses.
Sam had to warn the Memory Demon. He tried to initiate contact on his end, not expecting it to work, and was stunned when he found himself standing next to the oak tree by the pond. He'd forged a connection with the demon.
Turning his head to the right, Sam could see the Memory Demon. Or at least what was left of it.
The creature that had traumatized him years before was no more. A viscous puddle, iridescent in the weak sunlight, lay at his feet. One shapeless appendage arose from the amorphous mass and stretched out, touching the still pond water.
I am but a memory.
Panic shot through Sam's body, making him sway in place where he stood. He needed answers. It was too soon. "Please, tell me about the Yellow Eyed Demon. The one who killed my mother and girlfriend. I need to know how to destroy it."
His brother's lithe form strode out from behind the rotting corpse of what was once a Ford Escort.
You shine brightly. Others sense this. You must hide yourself.
Sam moved between Dean and the demon. He knew his brother wouldn't hurt him. Rubbing the bruises on his arms, he amended that to his brother wouldn't hurt him too much. "Please, I need to know about the demon. I think he senses me."
So naïve. He does not just sense you, he stalks you. But it is not the only one. The one you call brother would do you harm. You must protect yourself.
Reeling back, Sam almost slid into the pond. Dean wanted to hurt him? He knew he'd done something to raise Dean's ire but all family fought from time to time. "Dean wouldn't hurt me."
You might have to kill Sam.
Bending over at the waist, Sam wrapped his arms around his middle. His father's voice. Telling someone (Dean?) he might have to kill Sam. It was too much.
Sam raised his head and bellowed at the sky. It was a wordless, formless screech dragged from the depths of his soul.
A blast of ice enveloped Sam's torso. He writhed, trying to escape it, but it wouldn't let him loose.
Behind him the Memory Demon echoed his cry.
You must repel the demon blood inside you. Tainted. Wicked. You must guard against it. Go now, pretty SSSaaammm. My time is at an end.
Something tickled his skin. Lowering his eyes, Sam noticed blisters rippling across his arms. Not ice. Fire. Intense heat licked across his exposed skin.
Sam's legs gave out and he crashed to the ground. His hands batted ineffectually at his skin as inescapable pain battered his body.
Everything was going according to plan. Sam was safely tucked away in the house with Bobby watching over him. Dean had easily located the propane torch and slung it over his shoulder before hot footing it out to the pond.
The oak tree swayed in the breeze as Dean slowed from a sprint to a jog to a walk. Dying or not, the Memory Demon wasn't to be trusted.
Dean paused behind a rusted out Ford Escort and reconnoitered the area.
Surveying the pond he didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. When he scanned the area again he spotted what appeared to be an oil slick nestled next to the pond water on the far side of the tree.
Crouching down, Dean swung the propane torch from his shoulder and inched forward. The oil slick bucked and jumped before slithering backward, confirming its identify as the Memory Demon to Dean.
It didn't look so scary to Dean but he continued to approach with caution. It was time to fire up his weapon of choice. He flipped the on trigger, hit the lock button so both hands were free to grip the torch, and wasted no time in targeted the viscous mass.
What followed was the stuff of nightmares.
As heat flowed from the high temperature torch head, the rainbow colors in the oil slick coalesced and a face formed. At least Dean assumed it was a face, although it had no mouth. But the high pitched whining it produced made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. The face sizzled and then disappeared as the liquid settled into a rolling boil. But the sound never stopped.
Dean staggered back as his mind was assaulted with pictures. His mom burning and bleeding on the ceiling of their home. His dad's lifeless body on the hospital floor. Sam writhing as blisters appeared on his skin.
He wanted to bolt for the house and check on Sam but he couldn't stop until the demon was dead. Only then would Sam be safe. He concentrated the flame on the dwindling puddle until a flash fire erupted, jettisoning bits and pieces of dead demon.
The smell of charred meat permeated the air and Dean covered his nose with an arm. Satisfied that the demon was dead, he turned off the torch.
In his mind he could still hear the high pitched squeal and his head pounded from the unrelenting noise. Unable to shake the unease surrounding the visions of his family, Dean abandoned the torch and dashed back to Bobby's at top speed.
Sam whimpered and Bobby moved closer to the couch. Instead of succumbing to the pills immediately, the young hunter had continued to ramble softly after Dean left the house. He'd settled down a few minutes ago but now as Bobby looked on, he began trembling against the cushions. "Dammit, boy. Just relax."
Bobby didn't support Dean's hare brained scheme but he couldn't fault the older brother for wanting to take action against the Memory Demon. Sam was a mess, no two ways about it.
The kid's chest heaved upward, pulling his body taut, and then flopped bonelessly back to the couch. That couldn't be good.
The fine trembling turned to full body quaking and Bobby reached toward the back of the couch to grab the afghan folded haphazardly there. The old afghan had never seen so much use before. As Bobby started to drape the worn fabric across Sam, he noticed red blotches appearing on Sam's forearms.
Glancing at Sam's face, he saw them appear there as well.
The red splotches started to bubble and the sharp smell of ozone simmered in the air.
Sam's skin was blistering before his eyes but Bobby couldn't find the source of heat. Pale lips parted and moved soundlessly as Sam writhed in pain.
Ozone turned to burnt meat and Bobby gagged at the overwhelming smell.
An inhuman sound filled the living room as Sam gave voice to his agony.
Bobby wanted to clap his hands over his ears but he couldn't waste the time.
Drawing a coffin handled Bowie knife from the sheath at his ankle, Bobby began slashing at Sam's clothing. He winced as he drew blood in a couple of places but time was of the essence. When Sam was left in nothing but his boxers, Bobby scooped the young man into his arms.
Despite the weight Sam had lost recently, the load was substantial and Bobby's back groaned in protest. Long limbs draped limply over his arms, swinging in time with each step, as Bobby scrambled up the stairs with the injured man.
Depositing his inert burden in the bathtub, Bobby turned the cold taps on full blast. He smacked the lever for the drain stop and scooped handfuls of cool water over Sam's exposed skin as he willed the tub to fill more quickly.
Sam's breaths shuddered in and out as his limbs shimmied and shook in the slow filling tub.
Staring at the angry red streaks, Bobby ladled the rapidly cooling water over Sam's face. He worried about shock as the raw body quivered so hard, water splashed over the tub. But Bobby was loath to remove Sam from the water yet; the cold liquid soothed the abused skin as blisters finally stopped appearing.
Bobby wanted to retrieve his phone and call for help but Sam banged the back of his head against the tub with force and there was no way he could leave his semi-conscious charge in this state.
A door banged shut downstairs. "Bobby?!"
After sliding a folded towel behind Sam's head to minimize the damage, Bobby answered Dean's panicked call. "Bathroom!"
Dean thumped up the stairs and skidded to a halt next to him. "No, this isn't happening. Sammy?"
When Sam's body jerked and snapped again, Bobby decided it was time to haul his ass out of the water. He didn't even have time to explain to Dean what was happening. "Here, keep his head above water while I get more towels."
Bobby couldn't hear the words but Dean was speaking to his sibling in a soft soothing voice. Dashing down to his room, he returned with a secret stash of clean towels. He provided towels to his guests but he kept the nice ones back for himself; as the host he figured it was his prerogative.
Spreading some of the towels on the floor he resumed command of the situation. "You take his arms, I've got his legs. On the count of three. One, two, three."
Dean managed to wrap his arms around his brother's chest and did most of the work, heaving the heavy wet noodle out of the tub. Bobby wasted no time in wrapping a towel around Sam's shoulders before allowing Dean to support his torso.
Feeling disconnected from his body, Sam forced his eyes open to slits. Bobby gently blotted his wet legs with a towel. His back was propped up against something, his head sagging to the side as Sam fought for the coordination and strength to hold it up.
At least his skin no longer throbbed. Instead pressure began to build in his temples. His body shook with the force of a sudden tremor. Sam wanted to curl up but arms continued to hold him upright. A low moan slipped from his lips and Sam quivered in embarrassment.
Embarrassment faded as a crushing sensation replaced the pressure in his head.
Tainted. Wicked. Save Sam. Kill Sam.
"Just relax, Sammy. I've got you."
Dean. His brother was holding him up.
Sam strained forward in a blind panic, nearly knocking Bobby over as he kicked his legs for leverage.
Dean wanted to hurt him.
No, that wasn't right. Dean always looked out for him.
But his brother drugged him and left him to die.
Some instinct was driving him on as he twisted and jerked, trying to get free of the hands holding him back. He didn't know what to believe at the moment so he fought on.
Bobby's face was a blur as he struggled to hold Sam's legs down. Claustrophobia set in as a strong band clamped around his chest, locking his arms against his body. A loud roar and swish filled his ears. Bobby's mouth was moving but Sam couldn't hear what he said.
His breaths came in strangled pants as he twitched against his brother's grip. "Dean, no. Leave me alone. Please."
Sam didn't know if he said the words aloud. He couldn't pull enough oxygen into his lungs and his vision was blackening at the edges. Something snapped inside his head like a rubber band and his struggling abruptly ceased.
"Don't hurt me, Dea…"
Blackness overwhelmed, stealing his breath and vision.
One moment Sam was fighting like a wildcat and the next he was hanging passively in Dean's arms.
Dean wanted to blame Sam's response on shock. He didn't understand what had happened to his brother. He should have been safe here with Bobby. Instead red dots resembling chicken pox peppered Sam's skin and there was no denying that some of them were weeping like popped blisters.
But Sam's whispered words cut him to the quick. Leave me alone. Don't hurt me.
And he'd said Dean's name both times. Like he was afraid Dean would really hurt him.
Sam was his little brother, his to protect. It had been that way since the fire that stole their mom away. Even when his little brother had fled to Stanford, Dean had kept tabs on him, looked out for him. And now Sam was afraid of him?
Something wet splattered on Dean's hand as he shifted the dead weight in his arms. Something red.
His worries about his faltering relationship with his brother were replaced by a more immediate need; Sam's health.
Bobby, level-headed throughout the ordeal, recognized the nosebleed and thrust a washcloth under Sam's nose. "Sam, boy, can you hear me?"
When no response was forthcoming, Bobby nudged Dean. "Let's get him up off the floor and move him to the bedroom. Dean!"
Fingers snapped near his face. Dean wanted to glare at the older man but he couldn't scrape up the effort. Something was really wrong with Sam.
When the older man gathered up Sam's legs, Dean snapped out of his lethargy. He shifted Sam until he was cradled in his arms and then Dean heaved himself to his feet. The thought that he was losing Sam caused adrenaline to surge through his body, making the task of carrying his brother manageable. Bobby cleared a path and soon Dean was lowering his brother onto the bed.
Sam's chest hitched and a fine red mist was expelled in a sputter. Dean climbed to the head of the bed and inserted himself between the headboard and his brother. Bobby deftly propped his brother's lanky body against his chest so that Sam wouldn't choke on any blood.
Bobby perched on the side of the bed and held the washcloth under Sam's nose, trying to staunch the sluggish flow of blood. "Is the demon dead?"
Startled by Bobby's words, Dean realized they'd been so busy trying to stabilize Sam's condition that nothing had been said about the Memory Demon.
Squelching the urge to laugh hysterically as the lyrics to Disco Inferno came to mind (burn, baby, burn – disco inferno; burn, baby, burn – burn that mother down), Dean found his voice. "It's gone. Scorched to a cinder by the propane torch. It can't bother Sammy now."
Bobby frowned while adjusting the washcloth. "The blisters just suddenly appeared. The bathtub was the only thing I could think of to help."
The way the older man carefully parsed his words together told Dean that what had transpired in the house had been anything but a walk in the park.
Sam shifted a fraction and Dean waited with a sense of dread; would his brother struggle to get away from him again or would he be coherent this time?
"Easy, Sam. Does anything hurt?"
Sam was awake and Bobby was speaking in a low, soothing voice. No one wanted to startle Sam.
A shaky hand lifted toward Sam's head before it dropped back to the bed, lax against the spread. Dean concentrated on holding the body in his arms loosely. He didn't want to provoke his brother in any way.
Bobby grabbed Sam's chin and lifted his face, brushing the tangled brown fringe to the side of his face. The older hunter's eyes flared in conjunction with a gasp. "Okay, Sam, I want you to just rest there. Don't try to move."
A large, calloused hand grabbed Dean's and guided it to the washcloth under Sam's nose. "What?"
Dean spoke the word as softly as he could, still afraid his presence would freak out Sam.
Bobby was already to the doorway when he whirled around and tapped a finger next to his eye. He disappeared before Dean could query him further.
The body in his arms twitched uncontrollably. Dean couldn't tell from his position if Sam was having a seizure or shivering so he eased him out of his arms and onto his side. The chances of choking were minimized with Sam in that position and it afforded Dean a chance to assess him further, maybe see what Bobby was talking about.
His hip pressed into the small of Sam's back as he curved his body over Sam's head and pushed his damp wavy hair to the side. The exposed eye was slowly blinking, the sclera no longer bright white or even blood shot; instead it was a red, bloody patch.
Something tickled Dean's memory. Sam had a hemorrhage. At one time or another each of the Winchesters had suffered from what was basically a bruise on the eye – heavy lifting, coughing, sneezing, even vomiting were enough to trigger it – and it would fade away in a couple of weeks without requiring treatment. But it had been drilled into their heads growing up that sometimes the change was wrought by high blood pressure or a bleeding disorder and when in doubt, it should be checked out.
The hemorrhage in the eye, coupled with the frequent nosebleeds, were cause enough to seek treatment. Throw in the unknown consequences of the Memory Demon surfing around Sam's mind and Dean found himself on the verge of panic.
"Why'd you do it, Dean? I asked you not to. Now I can't save you. And the fire…"
Sam's pained voice cracked and hitched until it drifted off.
Dean didn't know what to do; he was losing his composure, his ability to be rational.
Bobby was right. Sam thought Dean needed to be saved. If only Sam knew the truth; it was Dean's job to save Sam. Their dad had entrusted Dean to save his little brother or else.
His calloused finger drifted up of its own volition and gently traced the skin around a blister on Sam's cheek. Dean's thoughts were racing uncontrollably, his hand shaking. What if Sam had blistered because he was connected to the demon when Dean had torched it? Dean thought he'd taken every precaution to keep Sam safe but the results of his actions – red, weeping skin – were staring him in the face.
But if Sam could forgive the Memory Demon for causing him to scald his hand and step in front of a moving car, then surely his brother would forgive Dean for killing the Memory Demon. Dean had to believe that; if Sam turned his back on him, Dean would be lost.
Sam rolled farther on to his side, leaving Dean bereft at the loss of contact. His brother's limbs flailed, blood from his nose coating the bedding. "Please, just go away."
Dean didn't know what to do. Disoriented or not, Dean's presence was causing Sam distress.
Bobby picked that moment to return to the bedroom. He retrieved the discarded washcloth and applied it to Sam's upper lip. "I called 911. Why don't you bring the paramedics upstairs when they get here?"
Ignoring the look of compassion evident on Bobby's face, Dean slid off the bed, careful not to jostle Sam.
He needed Sam to be okay so he could make things right between them.
Sam lifted his eyes and stared at the stark, white ceiling above him. He'd shifted back to awareness in slow, painful stages only to find himself alone. Clearing his mind as best he could, he concentrated on the Memory Demon; there was a black hole where the entity had once dwelled in his mind.
So Dean had succeeded in killing the demon.
At least Sam had been able to write down some of the information the Memory Demon had passed on to him. Although Sam was pretty broken up about the fact that the demon hadn't been able to, or refused to, disclose how to rid the world of the Yellow Eyed Demon.
He needed to save Dean from the same fate that had befallen his parents and Jess. It was a lost opportunity and that depressed the hell out of him. And frightened him.
Sam had begged Dean not to kill the demon and it pained him that his pleas had been ignored. Pushing past the hurt feelings, he realized he missed his brother.
Turning his head slightly he saw equipment strewn around the room confirming that he was in the hospital. But right now he was worried about one thing; his brother. If Dean were okay, he'd be planted in the plastic chair next to Sam's bed.
And Sam felt lost without his big brother's steadying presence.
Pain in his temples thundered to a crescendo and for a moment Sam believed he was in the throes of a vision. No vision; instead he found himself overcome by a memory of what the demon had visited upon him in its final moments.
Dad said that I'd have to save you. And if I couldn't save you, I'd have to kill you. Dean had been harboring one hell of a secret. And it was about Sam. No wonder his brother had been so on edge around him.
And it bothered Sam more than he would admit to that Dean hadn't told him about their dad's last words. Sam had specifically asked Dean if John Winchester had said anything to him before he'd died and Dean had said no.
Sam's brain was still scrambled from all of the interaction with the Memory Demon so it was hard making sense of what had happened.
He'd believed the demon when it said it could help Sam but looking back it was probably just a ploy; the demon had been lonely and having formed a link with Sam once, had easily forged one again. Sam understood loneliness but there's no way he would have tempted fate, putting himself at the mercy of such an unpredictable entity, if he'd believed he wouldn't take away something that would help in his quest to destroy Yellow eyes.
Dean's life was at stake.
Feeling too wrung out and ill equipped to deal with his feelings, and failings, Sam turned his attention to working out why he was in the hospital. There was a mask covering his nose and mouth and as he thought of his nose, he realized the inside of it felt raw. A headache throbbed at the back of his head but he vaguely remembered knocking it against the back of the bathtub. He wasn't exactly sure why he'd been in the bathtub, though.
Closing his eyes, he told himself to relax. Somewhere around the bed there ought to be a call button and if he could find it, he could find out about his brother.
With a deep breath he opened his eyes and started searching for the call button. His fingers collided with a hand and startled, he quickly withdrew his with a gasp. A figure drifted into his line of vision. "I'm sorry, Sammy."
Sam was so surprised to see the object of his thoughts that Dean had almost made it to the door before he found his voice. "Dean, wait."
Dean slipped quietly into Sam's room. It was a double room but at the moment Sam was the only occupant.
His brother continued to sleep despite Dean's presence. Creeping closer to the bed he saw the remnants of Sam's ordeal.
Sam was still pale beneath the oxygen mask, despite the units of blood they'd pumped into his body.
His brother's blood pressure had bounced from so high as to be in the danger zone to so low Sam kept losing consciousness that a blood pressure cuff remained wrapped around his right biceps.
The nosebleed had been cauterized and the doctors were mystified that it could have caused the depleted blood volume to begin with, but they were unable to find another explanation.
The scans and x-rays hadn't turned up anything more suspicious than past head trauma, already healed.
No new damage.
His brother, the modern medical miracle.
The once blistered skin had faded so that Sam appeared to be more heavily freckled than those on Dean's own fair complexion.
Had his overzealous actions resulted in causing Sam more harm than the thing by the pond?
"Tainted. You've been tainted. Wicked, bad human. The memories are delicious but we can't keep you. You've been marked. You belong to something else."
That's what the Memory Demon had told Sam when he was thirteen. Dean couldn't understand why Sam had let himself be suckered in by some sweet talking demon, especially one that had threatened him years ago.
And it had nearly killed him when his little brother had begged Dean to leave the demon alone. As if. Sam was so far gone at that point that he couldn't make rational decisions.
Although maybe there could have been another way. Lord knows his way almost got Sammy killed.
Sam gave an audible sigh before his eyes snapped open. The white sclera on both eyes had been replaced by bright red and although the nurses had warned Dean they would heal on their own, it was disconcerting to see. As his brother fumbled for something with desperation, Dean located the call button and shoved it toward Sam's hand.
His brother's cool fingers collided with his skin and Sam jumped, gasping in dismay. What did Dean expect? Every time Dean had been in the room, Sam had become agitated. Maybe with time Sam would forgive him. "I'm sorry, Sammy."
He made for the door and was halted in his tracks when Sam spoke. "Dean, wait."
Dean didn't want to see the disapproval in his brother's face but he'd do what he had to in order to make things right. Sam's scratchy voice called to him again. "Are you okay?"
There was no disapproval, only concern. "Me? I'm not the one in the hospital."
Concern melted into confusion. Sam squinted at him and then his eyes slid away. "Oh, I woke up alone and…never mind."
Sam's lips were turned down in a pout beneath the oxygen mask. Dean could have sworn his little brother was hurt because Dean hadn't been at his side when he woke up. The same little brother who had told him repeatedly to leave him alone and go. "When can I take this stupid thing off?"
His brother's voice was gaining strength. Sam reached up and tugged at the oxygen mask. Dean captured his brother's hands and pulled them away from the mask. When Sam didn't tug out of his grasp or tell him to leave, he found himself relaxing a little. "Your oxygen levels were all over the map so you need to leave it on for now. They couldn't put the prongs in your nose because they cauterized the bleed and didn't want to irritate their handiwork."
Comprehension dawned on Sam's face. "What about the head of the bed. My neck is sore from craning up to see you. Can we put this thing up?"
Dean dropped down into the chair next to the bed, still holding Sam's hands awkwardly in his own. "Your blood pressure kept bottoming out, McFainty, so you need to stay flat until the doctor gives his okay."
Definitely a pout. Blood red eyes tried to work Dean and damned if they didn't have the same effect as Sam's normally hazel eyes. But Dean held fast. His position was strengthened as Bobby stepped into the room. "You scared the crap out of us, Sam. How 'bout you at least wait until tomorrow before you start giving us a hard time?"
Bobby stopped outside of Sam's room with a coffee in each hand. Dean refused to snatch some shut-eye so Bobby figured he'd pump him full of caffeine. At least until he crashed.
Pushing the door open with his foot, he heard soft voices.
"Can we put this thing up?"
"Your blood pressure kept bottoming out, McFainty, so you need to stay flat until the doctor gives his okay."
At last. Sam was awake. And he wasn't booting Dean out of his room.
Easing into the room, Bobby made his presence known. "You scared the crap out of us, Sam. How 'bout you at least wait until tomorrow before you start giving us a hard time?"
It was hard to make out the smile behind the oxygen mask but Bobby couldn't miss the way Sam's hands were enfolded between Dean's.
And the older brother, allergic to Hallmark moments, was lovingly holding his kid brother's hands as though he was afraid Sam would float away without the contact.
Bobby set the coffees down on a tray table and approached the bed. "One of those coffees had better have my name on it."
Sam's voice was muted by the mask but strong and sure. The red eye effect was freaky as hell but if you concentrated on Sam's eyes, the hazel rings could be seen. "When the doc clears you, I'll have Dean here whip up a batch of his brew at home and bring it to you in a thermos so you can enjoy it at your own pace."
A bark of laughter greeted Bobby's words. "You're a cruel man, Bobby Singer. What did I ever do to you to deserve that fate?"
Bobby's humor faded as he seriously considered Sam's question. There had been a moment or two when he was positive Sam was stroking out on them. "Don't you ever pull a stunt like that again. At least not while under my roof."
Dean's neck was swiveling between Sam and Bobby as though he were watching a ping pong match. But he still clung to his brother's hands.
Sam's mood had subdued as well. "I'm sorry, I thought the Memory Demon was the answer to all my problems. It had me so screwed up, I didn't realize how much damage it had done."
Lightly chafing Sam's hands between his own, Dean jumped into the conversation. "I should have listened to you, Sam. I almost took you out when I killed it."
A lot of raw emotions were wrung out of that one word. Dean couldn't even bring himself to call the thing a demon.
The younger brother didn't say anything but Bobby was pretty sure he squeezed one of Dean's hands. A difficult feat to perform when the older brother had a death grip on both of Sam's hands.
Sam shifted restlessly on the bed and a clump of hair fell over his right eye, obscuring it from view. Dean kept holding on to Sam's hands while disengaging one of his own to smooth the hair out of his brother's face.
Bobby felt like a bit of a voyeur as he watched the gentle scene play out before him. He decided to give the brothers some privacy. Maybe they could work out some of their issues.
"There's something I have to tell you, Sam. It's about Dad."
Dean's voice cracked with deep emotion.
The door swished shut behind Bobby. He was a curious man and wanted to know what Dean was going to tell his brother but it wasn't his business.
Bobby didn't consider himself to be a sentimental man but for one moment, everything seemed right in the world. The two young men in the room behind him, the closest thing to sons Bobby would ever have, were trying to mend fences. It did his old, grumpy heart good.
"Crap. The coffee."
Once again the Winchesters had managed to get between Bobby and his java fix.
The world shifted back on its regular axis as Bobby glared his unhappiness at a pretty young nurse walking by. Maybe he could hit a drive-thru on his way home for a cup of caffeine. He was going to need it while he cleaned up the mess caused by the brothers' misadventures.
A/N: My thanks to Anjelicious who said in a review for Enter Sandman that she would love to read a sequel where something happened to Sam again when he was older. That sounded like a great idea to me and Twilight Zone was born.
Thanks again to my beta dream team, Gidgetgal9 and Floralia; I'd be lost without their guidance, humor and friendship.
Ongoing thanks to my mentor and friend, Faye Dartmouth -- I gave her break from this story because she's got more exciting things on her horizon at the moment -- but without her support and mentoring I wouldn't be posting.
And thank you for taking a trip through this Twilight Zone.

domain: literature


text:
Vitamin B-12 treatment of asymptomatic, deficient, elderly Chileans improves conductivity in myelinated peripheral nerves, but high serum folate impairs vitamin B-12 status response assessed by the combined indicator of vitamin B-12 status
MetadataShow full item record
Background: It is uncertain whether vitamin B-12 supplementation can improve neurophysiologic function in asymptomatic elderly with low vitamin B-12 status or whether folate status affects responses to vitamin B-12 supplementation. Objective: We assessed the effects of a single intramuscular injection of 10 mg vitamin B-12 (which also contained 100 mg vitamin B-6 and 100 mg vitamin B-1) on vitamin B-12 status and neurophysiologic function in elderly community-dwelling Chileans with low serum vitamin B-12 concentrations who were consuming bread fortified with folic acid. Design: A pretreatment and posttreatment study was conducted in 51 participants (median +/- SD age: 73 +/- 3 y; women: 47%) with serum vitamin B-12 concentrations <120 pmol/L at screening. Vitamin B-12 status was defined by combining vitamin B-12, plasma total homocysteine (tHcy), methylmalonic acid (MMA), and holtranscobalmin into one variable [combined indicator of vitamin B-12 status (cB-12)]. The response to treatment was assessed by measuring cB-12 and neurophysiologic variables at baseline and 4 mo after treatment. Results: Treatment increased serum vitamin B-12, holotranscobalamin, and cB-12 (P < 0.001) and reduced plasma tHcy and serum MMA (P < 0.001). Treatment produced consistent improvements in conduction in myelinated peripheral nerves; the sensory latency of both the left and right sural nerves improved on the basis of faster median conduction times of 3.1 and 3.0 ms and 3.3 and 3.4 ms, respectively (P < 0.0001). A total of 10 sensory potentials were newly observed in sural nerves after treatment. Participants with high serum folate at baseline (above the median, >= 33.9 nmol/L) had less improvement in cB-12 (P < 0.001) than did individuals whose serum folate was less than the median concentration (i.e., with a concentration <33.9 nmol/L). Conclusion: Asymptomatic Chilean elderly with poor vitamin B-12 status displayed improved conductivity in myelinated peripheral nerves after vitamin B-12 treatment and an interaction with folate status, which was detected only with the use of cB-12.
Artículo de publicación ISISin acceso a texto completo
Chilean National Science and Technology Research Fund 1070592
DOI: DOI: 10.3945/ajcn.115.116509
Quote ItemAmerican Journal of Clinical Nutrition Volumen: 103 Número: 1 Páginas: 250-257 (2016)


text:
If you don’t like ginger you can make this just with golden syrup, but, however you flavour it, serve it with proper custard!
butter 200g softened, plus extra for greasing the pudding basins
syrup from a preserved ginger jar 100ml
golden syrup 100ml
ginger wine 4 tbsp
lemon freshly squeezed juice of ½
caster sugar 300g
eggs 4, plus two extra yolks
self-raising white flour 400g
ground ginger 2 tsp
preserved ginger 75g, finely chopped
For the vanilla custard
double cream 575ml
vanilla pods 2, split in half lengthways and the seeds scraped out
egg yolks 6
caster sugar 40g
Grease six 200ml dariole moulds or pudding basins with butter and line the bottom of each with a small piece of baking parchment cut to fit, then grease the paper. Cut out six pieces of kitchen foil, each large enough to be pleated in the middle and to fit over the top of each with an overhang. Bring a kettle of water to the boil.
Bring the ginger syrup, golden syrup, ginger wine and lemon juice to the boil, stirring to dissolve the syrups, then remove the pan from the heat. Beat the sugar and butter together in a large bowl until light and fluffy. Beat in the eggs and extra egg yolks. Sift over the flour and ground ginger and then beat into the mix. Stir in the preserved ginger.
Divide three-quarters of the syrup between the dariole moulds, then add the batter, only filling each three-quarters full. Cover the tops with the circle of foil, pleated along the centre to allow the puddings to rise, then securely tie in place. Place into two or three flameproof casseroles on upturned saucers and pour in enough boiling water to come half way up the side of the moulds. Cover the pans and simmer over low heat for 1½ hours, or until the puddings are well risen. Remove the puddings from the water and leave them to stand for a few minutes before turning out and peeling off the paper. If they stick, run a round-bladed knife around the inside of the moulds.
Meanwhile, make the custard. Put the cream and vanilla seeds and pods into a saucepan over a high heat and bring just to the boil. Whisk the egg yolks and sugar together in a heatproof bowl until fluffy and pale.
Pour the boiling cream on to the eggs, whisking constantly. Pour this mixture back into the pan and simmer until it reaches 82C on an instant-read thermometer. Pass the hot custard through a fine sieve. Pour the remaining syrup over the puddings and serve with the custard.

domain: food


West Berkshire councillors vote down motion calling to scrap voter identification cards
WEST Berkshire Council has voted down a motion calling on the Government to scrap its plans to introduce voter identification cards.
Councillors voted down the motion as a freedom of information request revealed there have been zero cases of reported voter fraud since West Berkshire Council's inception in 1998.
The Government is planning on introducing voter ID cards to safeguard against potential voter fraud, but critics argue that the cards are a disproportionate response to the low cases of personation - the crime of pretending to be someone else at a vote.
Passports, driving licences, PASS scheme and Blue Badge cards, and some travel passes would be accepted. People without these would be able to apply for a free voter card from their local council.
Voter ID is required in Northern Ireland and the Electoral Commission has recommended since 2014 that it be required in the rest of the UK. As of August 2020, one conviction and one caution had been secured for personation.
Green minority leader Carolyne Culver (Ridgeway) called on the council to lobby the Government to abandon the proposals at a meeting on July 8.
Ms Culver said the issue of personation was "a vanishingly small problem" and that photo ID would "put up barriers that would disproportionately affect people least likely to have the documents", including older people and those with disabilities.
The photographic ID model is expected to cost between £5.9m and £17.9m and Ms Culver urged the council to assure the people of West Berkshire that "not a penny of their council tax will be spent on implementing any such scheme.”
Ross Mackinnon (Con, Bradfield) said the issue was a national one and not for West Berkshire, adding that the Government would bear the costs of the free voter ID cards.
He said: "It's not an unusual requirement for voters to identify themselves at the polling station. The vast majority of countries do so, including most of our allies... we don't often hear complaints of voter suppression from our EU friends."
Mr Mackinnon said the recommendations would help combat incidents and opportunities for personation and that "it stands to reason that the complaints are the tip of the iceberg. Most cases of personation will go completely undetected."
Liberal Democrat opposition leader Lee Dillon (Thatcham North East) said there were a lot of assumptions around the data, but it came down to the fundamental belief of trust.
He said: "Do you trust your residents, your neighbours, your community to go out and vote? I don't see many of us being able to get massive turnout in our elections, so we're not infusing our voters to turn out. That's what we need to do. We need to have a system in place that makes people want to turn out and vote because then impersonation will be found out.
"There is not this big scary beast out there of voters being denied their democratic opportunity. We are trying to legislate here for a problem that doesn't exist. So you have to ask yourself the real reason of why, and I do think it's about voter suppression."
Portfolio holder Howard Woollaston (Con, Lambourn) said catching impersonators seemed impossible, so it was no surprise that the percentages were low.
He said: "I consider myself a liberal Conservative. I have no problem with having a full identity card. I can see no problem with it whatsoever."
An indicative vote of councillors attending virtually rejected the motion by 21 votes to 17, with one abstention. Councillors in the chamber voted eight against and six for.


text:
Joseph HAYDN (1732-1809)
Arianna a Naxos, Hob XXVIb:2 [16:40]
Das Leben ist ein Traum, Hob XXVIa:21 [5:03]
Auch die sprödeste der Schönen, Hob XXVIa:18 [1:49]
Sailor’s song, Hob XXVIa:31 [2:14]
Recollection, Hob XXVIa:26 [5:54]
The wanderer, Hob XXVIa:32 [4:21]
Pastoral song, Hob XXVIa:27 [4:07]
Piercing eyes, Hob XXVIa:35 [1:40]
Despair, Hob XXVIa:28 [3:26]
Sympathy, Hob XXVIa:33 [2:45]
Pleasing pain, Hob XXVIa:29 [2:02]
She never told her love, Hob XXVIa:34 [3:23]
The mermaid’s song, Hob XXVIa:25 [3:03]
Transport of pleasure (Content), Hob XXVIa:36 [4:03]
Fidelity, Hob XXVIa:30 [3:37]
The spirit’s voice, Hob XXVIa:41 [5:55]
O tuneful voice, Hob XXVIa:42 [5:38]
Lisa Milne (soprano), Bernarda Fink (mezzo), John Mark Ainsley
Roger Vignoles (piano)
rec. November 1999 and May 2001, Rosslyn Hill Unitarian Chapel,
Hampstead, London, DDD.
Texts included (Italian and German texts are with English translation).
HYPERION HELIOS CDH55355 [75:38]
This recording was previously released as Hyperion CDA67174.
It contains one large concert scena, Arianna a Naxos,
and sixteen songs. The overall impression is of ornate elegance
tinted with pink and orange. The performance of the three singers
is excellent, and Roger Vignoles provides a background full
of rococo charm.
The text of Arianna drips with thick Metastasio sauce.
It is a not a song but a large dramatic scena that alternates
pairs of passionate recitatives and arias. The mood progresses
from timid confusion and hope to rage and despair. The last
aria is especially expressive and memorable. The style is not
far from Mozart’s, especially in Cosí fan tutte.
Bernarda Fink’s presentation is firm and polished, the
embellishments sound natural, and the emotion is well in the
spirit of the epoch. The careful accompaniment is not too dense.
Most of the songs are cheerful and charming. If you know Haydn’s
oratorio The Seasons, you’ll recognize the style
and the general uplifted mood. The composer uses the minor key
sparingly, like an artist that uses cold colors to deepen a
predominantly warm palette. Some songs stand amid the otherwise
uniform pleasantness. A few are suspenseful, philosophical,
such as the pensive Das Leben ist ein Traum, the melancholic
She never told her love, or the mysterious Song of
the spirit. Fluid harmony plays an important role here,
almost as much as melody - the latter sometimes seems to be
intentionally simple, in order to let the harmony speak. Recollection
is a vocal showpiece, yet it is reserved and loaded with emotion.
The wanderer is sombre and sounds almost Schubertian;
John Mark Ainsley aptly colors his voice in plaintive, baritonal
hues. It is a gray ballad, far from typical Haydn.
Some of the songs are aria-like, but others are natural, like
The mermaid’s song with its distinct strophic structure
and catchy tune. Sailor’s Song is surprisingly
similar to Papageno’s aria from The Magic Flute
(Der Vogelfänger bin ich ja) in verse and character,
with hurly-burly taking place of the hopsasa.
Fidelity, on the other hand, is reminiscent of the Queen
of the Night.
True, Haydn’s music is sweet. But, unlike our modern plastic
sweets with overdose of aspartame and artificial flavor, this
is more like the old European pastry that had flavor and taste.
That’s why you can listen for long hours to Haydn’s
piano sonatas, chamber music or songs, without feeling queasy!
This disc is probably not the best gateway into Haydn’s
world. Also, I don’t quite agree with the decision to
put Arianna alongside the songs. But if you are already
into Haydn or into late 18th Century vocal music,
then this collection can bring much contentment. The singing,
the accompaniment, and the recording quality are all excellent.

domain: artistic


text:
CARD PAYMENT IS AVAILABLE. 5% OFF CODE "JOIE"
TRUE TO SIZE, ORDER YOUR REGULAR USA SIZE.
Mid-top sneakers with a sock silhouette. Two-color running sole. Made of red stretch mesh with logo. The boot leg is trimmed with a ribbed edge and white sporty stripes. Decorative laces and rubberized film details with FF motif.

domain: design


After a run of just 11 points from 16 games, the Blues have taken 10 from their last four games to ease any lingering relegation fears.
Lennon – on loan until the end of the season from Tottenham Hotspur – has scored twice in his last three outings having netted only one Premier League goal in two years with the Londoners.
And while Martinez will only make a decision in the summer on whether to pursue a permanent transfer, it’s clear the Blues boss is impressed by the 27-year-old’s improving contribution.
“The work-rate Aaron Lennon has has been a massive influence, along with the pace that helps him get into certain positions,” said Martinez.
“That has been infectious and is really helping the team. You seem him going into goalscoring positions and using his talent and creativity in the final third.
“He is clearly a massive part of the reason we have performed so well in the last four games and got those results.
“But every player has reacted in the same manner, the commitment of the whole team and the way we have been working on and off the ball shows a real team ethic.
“That has been a real positive and probably the key to our performances.”
Lennon will hope to maintain his encouraging form when Everton aim to match their best unbeaten Premier League run of the season with the visit of relegation-threatened Burnley on Saturday.
The Clarets are two points from safety in 19th place having won only two of their last 16 top-flight games.
Sean Dyche’s side, though, have earned some notable results by taking four points from six against champions Manchester City, beating high-flying Southampton and holding Manchester United, Chelsea and Tottenham Hotspur to draws.
And while the Blues won 3-1 at Turf Moor earlier in the campaign, Martinez is wary of becoming another Burnley scalp.
“Burnley’s biggest strength is their belief they have in what they do and how they do it,” said the Catalan.
“No matter who they are playing, they always feel they can get a positive result. That’s credit to their manager.
“When you get into the Premier League, you can go through spells when you get some doubts as it’s difficult to get constantly good results like you did in the Championship in order to win promotion.
“But Burnley haven’t been affected by it. They have always been able to reset and get back to doing the good things.”
Martinez added: “They play with a lot of intensity and physical intent. They always carry a lot of threat as they aren’t afraid to play two strikers and attacking wide players.
“I feel they are a team looking at the next six games as an opportunity to get out of their situation rather than a fear of getting relegated.
“That’s a massive turnaround for a team that has been fighting relegation for 10 months.”


text:
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domain: travel


text:
After the end of filing season, many people receive a copy of their returns from their tax preparer and file them away in a
Tax season is commonly regarded as a period of dread and anxiety for Americans, and many people admittedly say that filing their taxes brings on a great deal of stress. However, a large percentage
When it comes to being financially responsible and educated about complex topics, such as taxes, most people generally believe older adults to be more prudent than younger generations. This is
Medical costs can be burdensome , particularly for those who suffer from chronic health issues. While individuals may be forced to cover many costs out-of-pocket, they may also be eligible for medi
The U.S. Tax Code is lengthy and complex, which may be one of the many reasons that some Americans fail to understand their filing obligations or make common mistakes when they submit their informa
Most people anticipate the start of tax season so that they can obtain the refund to which they may be entitled. So why does the IRS have millions of dollars in unclaimed refunds each year?
The April 15th tax filing deadline is quickly approaching, and many Americans who are awaiting the receipt of their refunds already have big plans in mind as to how they will spend it.
Owning a home can yield sizable financial rewards, such as growing equity and long-term security. However, the costs of purchasing, maintaining and repairing a property can be expensive over t
After people are finished filing their income taxes, the waiting game begins for many who are anticipating a refund. The Internal Revenue Service recently created a page on its website where A
Keeping documents and work information organized during tax season can make filing income taxes simpler and less stressful. So when individuals find that they are missing important paperwork before

domain: finance


text: This an antique quilt my 80+ year old MiL gave me. It was made by her grandmother who was born in 1851. I love the way the colors balance and blend to make the top dance. The peicing is very precise, with tiny hand stitching. The backing is a large rose chintz.


text:
Effects Of Racial Prejudice The effects of racial prejudice and segregation aimed at African Americans in the south on their lives and opportunities were deep-seeded and long lasting. The effects of segregation were perhaps the most destructive because they were legal and above-board. These laws illustrated to the African American population that their struggle was not limited to battling the backward notions and violent actions of cowardly southern rednecks, but that they had to overcome the mentality and ideology of a national government and, in fact, an entire society, that was failing to recognize them as citizens worthy of the basic rights and freedoms to which they were entitled as Americans. Proper and equal education was probably the opportunity that was most blatantly infringed upon by segregation. This probably also dealt one of the most devastating blows to the Movement, simply because it occurred on such a fundamental level in such a critical stage. Young minds were taught at an early and impressionable age to accept unquestioningly separation and inequality between themselves and their white counterparts. The employment of primarily Uncle Tom principles and teachers was intended to insure that ideas of freedom and equality did not make their way into the classroom.
Education was only one of the many opportunities that blacks were not afforded because of white prejudice. Even after African Americans gained the right to vote, most were still kept from the polls through the use of threats, violence, and unfair polling and testing procedures and policies. This had the crippling effect of denying African Americans a voice in their future and that of their country. It further alienated them from society and made them feel, at best, like second-class citizens, at worst, like prisoners at the mercy of a cruel and inhumane mob. Other opportunities denied to blacks had an overwhelming and usually negative effect on their ability to make a living and support their families.
The job opportunities for whites simply did not exist for the black community. As a college educated black woman, Anne Moody’s only real career option was to become a teacher in a black school where she would be subject to the will and control of the Uncle Toms in charge. For uneducated blacks, a primary opportunity for self-sufficiency should have been agriculture. It was extremely difficult, however, for blacks to acquire land that was suitable for farming, and when they did, government regulation often kept them from growing as much as white farmers in the counties. These and other employment situations resulted in black communities of families that could barely support themselves.
Aside from the opportunities that were denied to African Americans, their day-to-day lives were affected constantly by the attitudes and actions fostered by prejudice. One of the most obvious and deliberate results was fear. Blacks often resisted the Movement for fear of their lives and that of their families. They were constantly forced into undesirable situations for fear of the white man’s power to deny them jobs or destroy their homes. Once fear was instilled in the blacks of a community, the whites were free to take advantage of them in multiple ways. They were rarely paid adequately for the work that they did and were often expected to perform tasks that put their health or lives in danger.
Their dependence on whites for income made them vulnerable to physical and mental abuse and often placed their feelings of self worth in serious jeopardy. This further weakened the Movement. When blacks felt that they really were somehow inferior to whites, they lost the passion and the drive that they needed to fight the system. This was a major problem for the older generations who had been closer to slavery and had long since accepted their role in society. Fear had a dual effect on African American relationships and attitudes toward one another. While it cause many to turn their backs on their brothers and sisters in the Movement, it prompted many others to unify in order to protect and strengthen one another. The latter effect was most evident in the youth, who had seen and heard so much more that made them question the current situation.
They had seen segregation challenged. They had heard the impassioned words of people like Martin Luther King and Medgar Evers. They knew that things were different in the north, where blacks had earned a far greater sense of respect, equality, accomplishment, and independence. The results of prejudice in their minds and hearts turned to rage, disgust, and desire. In this sense, the continued acts of prejudice by whites served to fuel the fire of the Movement. Under the thumb of a more benevolent white society, many African Americans may have been to content to have caused trouble.
If the whites had made a greater effort to keep the blacks out of poverty, many may have feared that an uprising would take away their financial security. As thing were, though, many felt that they had nothing to lose except the chains that had continued to bind them long since the Civil War had been won. For these reasons, the youth of the black communities became the backbone of the Civil Rights Movement. The volatile situation was a perfect example of the ways in which poverty, discontent, and social clash lead to uprising and revolt. The African Americans were a people in need of a leader.
Their empty stomachs and poorly clothed bodies opened their minds to new ideas and the possibility of change. The door had been opened, even if just a crack, for people like Anne Moody to begin planting the seeds of independence and justice. The more the whites resisted the Movement – the more they beat, killed, raped, ravaged, and burned; the more comforts they denied the blacks – the more anger and hostility built within the African Americans. Their leaders gained more power, and their protestors grew in strength and numbers. Anne Moody’s life was the embodiment of many of these situations, events, and emotions. She experienced poverty as a child while she watched her mother struggle to put food on the table.
She began earning her own pay at the age of ten, working as domestic help for local white women, being grossly underpaid for the work that she did. She attended black schools her whole life, knowing that white people her age were learning in better facilities from more qualified teachers. She knew fear as a young attractive girl growing up in a place where white offenders saw no consequences for their actions against blacks. She knew what it felt like to have nothing to lose. As she became deeply involved in the Movement, she not only feared almost daily for her own life, but was constantly worried about the well being of her family.
Perhaps most of all, she knew rage. She had felt the choking anger brought by watching young blacks beaten to near death in the streets. She knew the frustration of working within a system that Scontinued to oppress her people. She experience the despair of losing leaders like Medgar Evers and J.F.K., whose presence alone had held the promise of change. She felt the guilt and heartache of losing loved ones who had done no wrong and the anger of seeing justice unserved time and time again. Coming of Age in Mississippi defines an era and a people through the eyes of a girl who lived through it and overcame it.
It tells of her struggles, her triumphs, and her failures. Through her experiences and the experiences of those around her, it illustrates the impact of prejudice and discrimination on the African Americans of that period. History Essays.

domain: library


text:
We strongly recommend that you consider pre-funding the cost of college by following these steps:
This pre-funding strategy spreads the cost of college over a long period of time instead of waiting until the child begins college and incurring the cost over an intensive four-year period. This strategy helps you maintain your lifestyle in light of the college costs that are expected. It also enables you to benefit from the growth of your capital offered by a long-term investment program.
Securities and advisory services are offered through LPL Financial (LPL), a registered investment advisor and broker-dealer (member FINRA/SIPC. Insurance products are offered through LPL or its licensed affiliates. Premier America Credit Union and Premier America Investment & Retirement Services are not registered as a broker-dealer or investment advisor. Registered representatives of LPL offer products and services using Premier America Investment & Retirement Services, and may also be employees of Premier America Credit Union. These products and services are being offered through LPL or its affiliates, which are separate entities from, and not affiliates of Premier America Credit Union or Premier America Investment & Retirement Services. CA Insurance License #0759204, TX Insurance License#1643255.
Securities and insurance offered through LPL or its affiliates are:

domain: economics


text:
Heather Dubrow Tries To Stand By Terry's Side
This Dress Got a Utah Teen in Major Trouble at Her School Dance
10 Infuriatingly Bad Endings to Good Movies
Rosie O'Donnell Reveals The Scary Reason She's Leaving The View
7 Things You Didn't Know About 'The Big Bang Theory'
Watch Russell Brand Get Kicked Off Of Fox News
Fiance of 'Ladies Of London' Star Noelle Reno Dies In Horrific Accident
Brandi Glanville Physically Attacks Kim Richards During RHOBH Filming
10 Actresses Who Would Be Perfect As 'Captain Marvel'
What's Really Going on With Lester Holt at NBC?
The crazy family who lived with the lion and their tragic end
Million Dollar Listing LA Stars Explain Why They Called Off Their Wedding
Y&R: Meredith Baxter is Coming in Hot
Dancing With The Stars Season 20 Cast Photos!
Is Teresa Giudice's Daughter Gia Filming for Bravo?
Andy Cohen Responds To Brandi Glanville's Bullying Accusation!
8 Smart and Women Friendly Websites We're Addicted To
Soap Actor's Suicide Linked to His Dog
Jacqueline Laurita Spilling Real Housewives Of New Jersey Secrets Again!
The Best Way to Remove Eye Bags Without Surgery
Are The Beador's Finally Splitting Up?
Forbes Magazine Recognizes Lilly Ghalichi
The Bold and The Beautiful Loses a Featured Actress
Joe Giudice Drinking Excessively and Not Supervising Daughters While Teresa is in Prison?!
Vivica A. Fox Says Kenya Moore Is Ruining Her Career!
14 Reality Stars You Didn't Know Were Really, Really Rich
Sonja Morgan's RHONY Salary Revealed
Kim Zolciak Shows Off Her Incredibly Tiny Waist... Again
"Embarrassed" NeNe Leakes Pressured By RHOA Producers To Turn It Up!
Sonja Morgan's Former 'Intern' Speaks Out

domain: celebrity


In presenting an initial assessment of Zapad 2017, which ran from Sept. 14 through Sept. 20, Lithuania’s officials confirmed that the exercise scenario was offensive, i.e., an attack on the Baltic states.
Russian troops are currently being withdrawn from Belarus’ territory, but drills in the Russian exclave of Kaliningrad continue.
Defense Minister Raimundas Karoblis noted that Russia had announced that 12,700 troops would participate in the Zapad war games.
“I won’t give any specific figures and comments right now, but the build-up of forces was several times higher than the officially declared number of Russian troops,” Remigijus Baltrenas, director of the Second Investigations Department under the Defense Ministry, told reporters.
He emphasized that this was the data available to Lithuania’s military intelligence.
Meanwhile, Karoblis said the exercise had involved “conventional actions against states of higher technological level, namely NATO” and were “both offensive and defensive in nature”. “All elements of the Russian Federation’s armed forces, including space forces,” took part in the complex drills, which was not in line with statements that the exercise was aimed at anti-terrorism operations, he said.
Also, in his words, Zapad involved bombers and “actual bombardment close to Lithuania’s borders,” air assault close to Latvian and Estonian borders and near the Barents Sea.
“What is important is that the simulation of an offensive from the Russian Federation toward all Baltic countries took place,” the minister said, also stressing that all this showed that the post-Zapad security situation had not improved, and Russia’s political position was unchanged.
According to Karoblis and military officials, the exercise confirmed earlier fears that the Russian armed forces are capable of reacting within 24-48 hours.
“Zapad 2017 proved that this is the Russian capacity of using the armed forces,” said Baltrenas, the military intelligence chief.
Army officials said they had no data about stationing of Iskander missile systems or activation of nuclear weaponry systems in the Kaliningrad region during the exercise.
The minister also accentuated Russia’s failure to ensure a possibility for neighboring countries to verify the validity of the information about the drills.
“This goes for the size of the exercise, the number of participants, scenarios and publicity instruments. We can even say that some of the information was of misinformation character,” said the defense minister.
In Karoblis’ words, the Russian army has launched the latest technologies, including electronic and automated control systems, drones and other modern systems.
“This is not the army that was in Georgia in 2009, it is not even what it was in Ukraine in 2014. It looks like it is learning lessons in Syria. Russia’s army is getting stronger, improving interaction and other elements,” Karoblis said.
He emphasized that, in response to emerging challenges, NATO should keep improving its interaction, adapting to new conventional threats, enhance Lithuania’s contingency by modernization of its Armed Forces, boost public immunity and prepare for defense, not only deterrence.
Nevertheless, the conclusions suggest that the actions held in the framework of the drills “did not evolve into any provocations, except for a few minor incidents.”
Chief of Defense Lieutenant General Vytautas Jonas Zukas said NATO contingency plans had not been developed exclusively for Lithuania but for all Baltic states and Poland, therefore, all actions would be coordinated with the nations.
During the Zapad 2017 exercise held on Sept. 14-20, two transport aircraft violated Lithuania’s airspace close to the Curonian Spit en route from mainland Russia to the Kaliningrad region. Russians said this was done with a permit from Lithuania’s air traffic controllers to avoid bad weather. Meanwhile, Vilnius maintains the Il-76 were never granted permit to enter the airspace.
Later on Tuesday, the defense minister should present the Zapad 2017 assessment conclusions to the parliament’s National Security and Defense Committee.
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text:
Peter Bogdanovich (July 30, 1939 – January 6, 2022) was an American movie director, writer, movie producer, screenwriter, critic, actor, and historian. He was known for his movies The Last Picture Show, Paper Moon, Mask, They All Laughed, What's Up, Doc?, and Texasville.
He won a BAFTA Award for writing the screenplay of The Last Picture Show in 1971. He was nominated for two Academy Awards for his work on the same movie in 1971. He was nominated for a Golden Globe Award in 1973 for Paper Moon.
Bogdanovich was born in Kingston, New York. He studied at the Collegiate School and Stella Adler Studio of Acting.
Bogdanovich was married to producer Polly Platt from 1962 until their divorce in 1978. From 1988 until 2001, he was married to Louise Stratten. He was in a relationship with actress Cybill Shepherd between 1971 until 1978. In 1980, he was in a relationship with model Dorothy Stratten.
Bogdanovich died on January 6, 2022 in Los Angeles, California from problems caused by Parkinson's disease at the age of 82.
References[change | change source]
- ↑ "Director comes from full circle, Kingston native Peter Bogdanovich, honored with fest". Poughkeepsiejournal.com. Retrieved 2014-02-13.
- ↑ Kilday, Gregg; Byrge, Duane (January 6, 2022). "Peter Bogdanovich, Oscar-Nominated Director and Champion of Hollywood's Golden Age, Dies at 82". The Hollywood Reporter. Retrieved January 6, 2022.
- ↑ Bahr, Lindsey; Coyle, Jake (6 January 2022). "Peter Bogdanovich, director of 'Paper Moon,' dead at 82". AP NEWS. Retrieved 7 January 2022.
Other websites[change | change source]
- 1939 births
- 2022 deaths
- American historians
- American movie actors
- American critics
- Movie directors from New York City
- Movie producers from New York City
- Writers from New York City
- Screenwriters from New York City
- Actors from New York City
- People from Kingston, New York
- BAFTA Award winning writers
- Deaths from Parkinson's disease

domain: entertainment


Mixing & Mastering Engineers who worked with Joe Elliot (Def Leppard)
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Been in sessions with artists such as Mick Jagger, Nicky Minaj, Will.I.Am, Tina Arena, Future, Travis Scott, Wandering Hearts etc... I have been lucky enough to learn a lot of techniques regarding mixing, recording and producing with those artists.
I've played music for more than 10 years, and have been writing and recording my own songs for at least 7 years. In my early high school years I fell in love with music production, especially mixing. I then realized that this is what I want to do for a living, and now here I am.
Award Winning Producer - Sound Engineer Tailor Made Music I can turn your demo into a fully produced song mixed and mastered, ready to release. My clients list include Universal, Samsung, Victoria's Secret, Uber, MaxMara, Quicksilver etc...
Hello, My name is Mark. I have a production company call Vital Dreams Music Group. I started mixing for up and coming acts in NYC like Sya from the Sister Hood of Hip Hop. I've done radio commercials, Mixtapes, theme songs, Albums, Singles.
Julian Blanco is a music producer and a mixing engineer. With an eclectic taste and a background as a musician, he is most passionate about getting musical ideas to the highest level. Currently based at Soho Sonic Studios, he also works remotely from his studio in North London. Credits include EMI, Abbey Road, Jorja Smith, Gigs and Bugsy Malone.
I attended The Young Americans College of the Performing Arts in Los Angeles where I traveled the world using music and dancing to help children gain self-confidence, learn to work together, and try new things. I now do songwriting and want to co-write with as many people as possible!
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As a CIO he has developed the technology vision and strategy for HDFC Life including digital transformation. He also held the responsibility for the development of corporate standards, technology architecture, technology evaluation and transfer; client relation management, and setting technology with business goals and revenue streams.
He is a seasoned IT leader with demonstrated experience in planning, developing, and implementing cutting-edge information solutions to address business opportunities. Thomas has over 20 years of diversified experience in the IT, Networking & Communication industry. Prior to HDFC Life, he has worked with companies like Hutchison Max Telecom (Currently Vodafone), and Crompton Greaves.
Going forward, he has planned to spend a couple of years on sabbatical but will keep learning and exploring new technologies.


text:
On Sunday evening, NASA coalition shocked its supporters when it announced the postponement of swearing in NASA leader, Raila Odinga, as President of Kenya.
The swearing in was planned for Tuesday but NASA principals said they postponed the function to allow for more consultations with more parties including religious leaders.
Last evening, ODM supporters were blaming other principals in NASA for chickening out on the ceremony set to inaugurate Raila Odinga as the People’s President of the Republic of Kenya.
However, it has been revealed that the real force behind Raila Odinga backing out had nothing to do with pleas from international diplomats but his wife, IDA ODINGA.
READ ALSO: OH NO! NASA’s Downfall: Raila was Candidate
Ida who is the matriarch of the Odinga family is said to have asked Siaya Senator, James Orengo and former Machakos Senator, Johnstone Muthama, to leave her husband alone.
Ida asked Orengo and Muthama to find someone to swear in and not Raila Odinga.
She said she doesn’t want Raila Odinga to suffer in prison like he suffered in the 80s and 90s.

domain: news


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text:
Some like it hot.
Some like it sweet.
Whatever their pepper preference, those who participated in the recent Chef Showdown between Atria Kinghaven’s professional chefs and the city of Riverview’s top public safety officials got a little of both.
The assisted living and independent senior community in Riverview has sponsored the Chef Showdown over the past several summers, each year with a different theme.
“This was our fourth annual showdown,” said Engage Life Director Karen Roberts. “The only rule for the dish is that it contain peppers.”
The contestants in this year’s contest were Jay Mahaffey versus Ron Lammers in what was billed a “Battle to the final bell.”
Mahaffey has been cooking professionally since 1990 and has been a Unidine employee since Jan. 2, assigned to Atria Kinghaven as the head chef. He was assisted by Sous-chef Craig Bosco.
Lammers is Riverview’s fire chief. He was assisted by Police Chief Clifford Rosebohm.
Mahaffey’s recipe was shrimp fritter with hot pepper jelly. Lammers recipe was goulash.
There was some good-natured ribbing about that fact that one of the judges was Dick Mahaffey, Jay’s father, who was visiting from Florida. The elder Mahaffey pledged to be impartial.
Other judges included Atria Kinghaven residents Ed Allard and Paul Haley; Riverview Mayor Andrew Swift; Riverview Recreation Director Todd Dickman; and two representatives from local newspapers.
In all four years of the contest, it’s always been a close competition. This year was no exception.
Swift tallied the votes and would say only that it was “extremely close.”
But in the end, the trophy went to the professional chefs for their shrimp platter dish.
Of course, it could be argued that the real winners were the Atria Kinghaven residents, who filled the dining area to sample both of the tasty dishes.


January 4, 1974|
North Ferriby, East Riding of Yorkshire
|Associated acts||Chris DeBurgh|
Ian John Moor (born 4 January 1974, in North Ferriby, East Riding of Yorkshire) is an English singer, and the Stars in Their Eyes Champion of Champions.
In 1999 Moor won the ITV show Stars in Their Eyes produced by Granada Television, Manchester in 1999, with his impersonation of Irish musician and songwriter Chris De Burgh. He sang De Burgh's 1986 song "The Lady in Red".
The following year, in 2000 Moor returned for his final appearance on Stars in Their Eyes as a guest, returning for the eleventh series live grand final, (won by the Freddie Mercury impersonator). Moor was joined on stage during his performance by De Burgh for a duet. Following success on Stars in Their Eyes, in 2000, Moor went on to record an album with BMG. Entitled Naturally, which peaked at position 38 on the UK Albums Chart Top 40 albums list.
Television and radio credits
- Stars in Their Eyes - four appearances, from May 1999 to May 2000
- BBC Radio Humberside - (several appearances from 1999)
- 96.9 Viking FM Radio (June 1999)
- BBC Look North (November 1999)
- This Morning (TV series) with Richard Madeley and Judy Finnigan (four appearances between 1999 and 2000)
- The Kelly Show, recorded at UTV, Belfast, Northern Ireland (two appearances, between 1999 and 2000)
- Moor has appeared several times on Yorkshire Television productions, including Calendar, Magic Moments, The Magic Of Clubland and a documentary film about his life after Stars in Their Eyes
- BBC Radio Sheffield - Tony Capstick (January 2000)
- London Today (August 2000)
- LBC 97.3 Radio - Steve Allen show (August 2000)
- BBC Radio 2, "Steve Wright In The Afternoon" (August 2000)
- HTV News, Bristol (August 2000)
- Liberty Radio (August 2000)
- Radio Five Live - Nicky Campbell show (two appearances June 1999 and August 2000)
- Through the Keyhole (2001)
- ↑ "STARS IN EYES CHAMP TO MEET IDOL". Daily Mirror. June 7, 1999. Retrieved 18 May 2011.
- ↑ "10 things you didn't know about...". Coventry Evening Telegraph. March 18, 2000. Retrieved 31 March 2013.
- ↑ Betts, Graham (2005-10-01). Complete UK Hit Albums 1956-2005. HarperCollins UK. p. 277. ISBN 9780007205325. Retrieved 30 March 2013.
- ↑ "IAN MOOR". Official Charts Company. Retrieved 31 March 2013.


text:
Eight herbicide treatments were applied by low-volume basal applications and compared to hand cutting for the removal of Ailanthus altissima. Manual cutting of Ailanthus stimulated resprouting and increased overall stand density. Chemical control not only removed existing trees but also prevented resprouting.
When evaluated two years after treatment, optimal control of Ailanthus was achieved with a combination of Garlon 4 and Tordon K herbicides. Garlon 4 at 20% v/v alone, Garlon 4 combined with Stalker, or Stalker herbicide alone controlled Ailanthus better than hand cutting but were not as effective as treatments containing picloram. Removal of Ailanthus resulted in a shift in herbaceous species to native species of the region without reseeding with naturally occurring herbs.
Manual control of Ailanthus should be avoided in order to prevent proliferation. Herbicide control of Ailanthus is the preferred method of control because it successfully kills the trees and prevents resprouting... Because major Ailanthus infestations occur near roadways, access with a backpack sprayer should be achievable.

domain: biology


text:
Probiotics aren't anything new, but you probably first heard about them in yogurt ads. In addition to aiding a healthy gut as the yogurt ads claim, did you know that probiotics are a scientifically proven way to help with depression and anxiety? Your gut is considered your "second brain" and roughly 90% to 95% of all the body's serotonin—one of the naturally occurring chemicals that makes you feel good—is produced there. Unfortunately, if the delicate balance of bacteria that provides serotonin gets disrupted, it can lead to symptoms of depression and anxiety.
As someone who's spoken to a lot of different nutritionists, the use of probiotics often comes up as something most people should be doing. But it can be a complicated area to understand. What do they do? Why should you take one? How do you take them? So I turned to Kerry Madgwick, a clinical nutritionist who regularly encourages her clients to take probiotics. I also looked at the most recent studies in hopes of educating myself on the best way to add probiotics to a daily routine.
Keep scrolling for a comprehensive guide on probiotics, as well as the best ones to take.
Meet the Expert
Kerry Madgwick is a Kent-based holistic nutritionist and founder of Kerry's Natural Health Solutions. Her specialties include healing issues with low energy, bloating, negative body image, and lack of confidence.
The Basics of Probiotics
Probiotics are live microorganisms, namely bacteria and yeast, that are beneficial for your health. Our bodies are full of bacteria—both "good" (like probiotics) and "bad" (like infection- and disease-causing strains). Probiotics can be found naturally in fermented foods like yogurt, kefir, and kombucha, but they're also available in dietary supplements and often in capsule form.
From aiding digestive problems to increasing the level of serotonin in the body, probiotics appear to be microscopic miracle workers. For example, in 2017 a team of researchers from the University of Virginia School of Medicine discovered that upon feeding depressed mice the probiotic bacteria Lactobacillus, they reversed the depression symptoms.
How Probiotics Work
But how can a small pill or serving of yogurt containing millions of bacteria help your mood? It works like this: Probiotics positively affect the gut by "decreasing stress signaling in the body and possibly even increasing the transformation of the amino acid tryptophan to serotonin in the brain."
For further information on the benefits of probiotics, I spoke to Madgwick about how she's worked with her clients who have anxiety and depression. After taking them for a few months, many of those with depression and anxiety reported feeling better. "When people are depressed, they are less likely to want to interact socially and find themselves struggling with low energy levels; however, after taking probiotics, they noticed increased energy levels which means they've been able to get out more."
The Right Probiotic for You
This is where it gets a bit tricky. According to Madgwick, you need to find out which strain of bacteria you need for your own body—which can only really be discovered by speaking to a nutritionist about your symptoms and then working out which one is right for you.
But if you want to try purchasing a probiotic supplement directly from a health food store, then there are a few rules to note:
1. Check how the supplement is stored: You want it to be refrigerated since live bacteria will die otherwise.
2. Check the number of organisms or "colony-forming units" (CPUs): Look for the number count on the bottle—when it comes to probiotics, it's the more, the merrier.
3. Check the strains: Preferably, this is what you'd speak to a nutritionist about. However, one 2016 study—which saw the benefits of taking probiotics for depression and anxiety—used the following strains: Lactobacillus acidophilus, Lactobacillus casei, and Bifidobacterium bifidum—all of which you can buy in health food shops.
There are many different types of probiotics available, but it all depends on the strain that is right for your body.
Always consult your doctor before adding a new supplement to your diet or daily routine.
Yano JM, Yu K, Donaldson GP, et al. Indigenous bacteria from the gut microbiota regulate host serotonin biosynthesis. Cell. 2015;161(2):264-76. doi:10.1016/j.cell.2015.02.047
Marin IA, Goertz JE, Ren T, et al. Microbiota alteration is associated with the development of stress-induced despair behavior. Sci Rep. 2017;7:43859. doi:10.1038/srep43859
Akkasheh G, Kashani-poor Z, Tajabadi-ebrahimi M, et al. Clinical and metabolic response to probiotic administration in patients with major depressive disorder: A randomized, double-blind, placebo-controlled trial. Nutrition. 2016;32(3):315-20. doi:10.1016/j.nut.2015.09.003

domain: medical