her family bought her this crystal bracelet to cure her TB. she's finally cutting it off today!
Aren't flowers amazing?
She seems to be fine when there's cocktails involved. I considered this one was an actual closet alcoholic and her "adrenal crises" were alcohol WDs since she claims her symptoms are nausea/vomiting, a crippling headache, tremors, neuropathy and rapid heart rate. Alas, she's about to spend too much time under a lot of medical supervision to be pulling that off, plus she never gets the benzo booby prizes they give the drunks to keep them from dying of stupid.


Check out this thigh gap body check.
She caught covid and had to cancel her plans of going on another vacation to sip cocktails with the Oxford girls.

She's off the dex and now only on her hydro pump but having constant reactions and "low cortisol attacks". Turns out the pump is broken and hasn't been delivering a proper dose to her for months. I don't know how easy it would be to sabotage that in a way that her doctors would not notice right away but I would not put it past an anorexic to do so. some of these girls are feral, man.
Now she's back to a schedule of injectable steroids.
She's taking even more massive doses of steroids than her doctors want because [checks notes] her face is swelling. Who's gonna tell her? She thinks it might be lupus, vasculitis, myositis, angioedema attacks, mast cell disease or something else. Someone please keep this girl and her hypochondriac mother off WebMD.
Doctors tell her to take even more steroids until her next appointment and it allows her to put on a red dress and go have fun at some festival, of course. I like the carefully placed book that just says SICK on the cover. Just drive home even more that this illness, like Oxford, is all aesthetic to you.



A week of silence and she's in a wheelchair covered in lidocaine patches. Her body is attacking itself, her muscles are wasting away, she has anaphylaxis and constant rashes she can't show us proof of, and she's going to check into the hospital soon to get to the bottom of it. She can't even walk anymore.
Lol this is a whole lot of common sense here, Tilly. You're not managing your condition at home, emergency rooms are not where you go to get investigated for mysterious chronic conditions, they can't treat you at a specialist hospital unit if they don't know what it is, this is beyond the scope of a GP, and you can't get an immediate outpatient specialist appointment, so keep taking your meds while we try to squeeze you into one. Welcome to how normal people get diagnosed with chronic diseases. She's now on 240 mg steroid and her amazing specialist is determined to get her well.
In August, she's been admitted after mummy got her an urgent endocrinology appointment and they asked her if she felt she needed to be admitted. She tearfully nods yes. Surprise, under observation when she is not the one managing the steroids, they work.

She starts outlining how this is going to be written in her upcoming memoir, soon to be my favorite novel. Chapter one: NHS can't help her; told even a billionaire's money can't buy her a diagnosis when her rich Oxford friends offer to pay for her to go the private route. Two: mummy pulls the right strings. She would have DIED otherwise; Three: hospitals usually gaslight her but this time everyone believes her.
LMAO enjoying your steroids Tilly? Not so much fun when you don't get to lie about taking them and end up shoving a plate of cake down your throat on autopilot, huh? Four: because she presents with potentially life threatening symptoms she's admitted immediately. Normally she has to beg for steroids but this time they're administering them without her demand. Couldn't tell. Five: Her doctor is amazing, best in the hospital. Six: her ward is amazing, best in the hospital. Seven: they're taking her game seriously and running tons of specialist tests to figure it out.
Eight: hospitals know mom is a problem and usually don't want her to stay. This one is different. Nine: on high dose steroids her symptoms mostly disappear. Ten: begging her boyfriend for low calorie vegetable juices trying to sate the steroid hungries under the guise of being willing to try anything to get well.
Eleven: this hospital is still taking this seriously and runs tests all weekend. Twelve: she has an attack in front of doctors, drenched in sweat, shaking, spasming, and giving off a metallic odor. No one doubts this is real. Amazing that this happened when they all were in the room! Thirteen: what the fuck is a hen do?
Oh. Lol. I thought it was going to be some rich people bullshit, like a debutant ball.
Fourteen: mummy is now filming her "attacks" so everyone can see them. Except me, apparently. Fuck you Tilly's mom. Fifteen: turns out they don't need the video because Tilly puts on another live performance. The doctors weep for her again. Sixteen: she's besties with her hospital mates! Also how's that steroid treatment working out for you? Looks like we got some big thick slices of bread with butter and a giant plate of sausage links for our little darling who feels no hunger.

Seventeen: she's moved to a new, nicer private room after all that show, a real penthouse suite fit for a princess like her. Eighteen: her former hospital roommate is actually a ward manager who has seen all the terrible things Tilly talks about and agrees with her completely that she's very sick and it's all hospital politics' fault she has no diagnosis despite all this fucking testing. Nineteen: is this a hospital or a spa? The pictures are fun. Her family brings her gallons of apple juice, bananas, and yogurts then everyone gathers round to eat more cake. Enjoying the ravenous steroid appetite and sugar cravings you claimed that you alone did not get? What happened to that diabetes you said you had?


She disappears for a few weeks and comes back to admit she kept carrying on with "reactions" and was taken out of her luxury penthouse to be put on 24 hour observation. She doesn't want to talk about it. She's kept in a small room with only a curtain separating her from her neighbors and the nurses station. Ahhh the stupid games have yieldedso many prizes.
moonface coming in nicely now that she's under total observation. They have to know by now that shit ain't adding up.
47 days and it turns out that lmao yes steroids work for Tilly just like they do for everyone else. She wants to be out and partying. Being stuck in the hospital is terrible when they out your bullshit. She posts a bunch of skinny partytime pics for reference. It's funny that even with the shit stuck to her face, unwashed hair, and the steroid bloat she looks markedly more human in these pics than she ever did in her "good" ones.

Now she's covering her moonface with lido patches
and a mask when she reminds people she used to be super skinny. Look I get it, even if you're not particularly vain it's freaky to look in the mirror and see a face you can't recognize when just a few days ago you looked like yourself. I just struggle to have sympathy when she lied about needing these massive doses and took everyone on a ride.
On to the meat of the post: she came to the hospital with some symptoms, under observation she has mysteriously gotten worse with more frequent and dramatic attacks. They think it might be porphyria so they put her on a glucose drip. Also she says she had an infection bad enough to need IV antibiotics. It was like "nectar to her veins" - didn't stop the attacks but did make her feel better. Since then she's been craving sugar intensely, slamming dextrose packets, colas, cake, and six
liters of apple juice a day down her maw while still claiming weight loss but also showing noticeable weight gain.

If the IV glucose is stopped for even a few minutes she has an 'attack' and has to suck back sports drinks to stop it. How strange, after they mention porphyria, she suddenly starts having new symptoms that align better with that diagnosis.
When they cut off her sugar water she puts on a big show of running around the ward "hallucinating". Her lactate level is over 11 and she should be dead. Lactate tests can be falsely elevated through various means including slow processing by the lab. Severe infection like the one she just told us she had requiring IV abx, high dose steroids, and strenuous physical activity like if her "episodes" are actually some kind of PNES could also do it. I know we like to consider PNES as fake in this thread but I gotta invoke my gal Katie Stanina whose non-epileptic seizures are so totally involuntary and believable that she's had ER staff drill into her bone to administer rescue meds during one. I don't think that's the answer but I also can't say it isn't.
Eight porphyria tests all come back negative. The first seven were rejected due to alleged improper handling (darn those slow hospital elevators!) or her overhydrating but the last one is handled correctly, not diluted, and still negative. She had one of those not-seizures where she's awake and it goes on for a time that would be fatal if it was real.
She's down to only 47mg of steroid but she can't live like this. they still don't know what's causing her spasms. She's now crowdsourcing new diseases to try for.
Lol what happened to the diabetes? Now her blood sugar is perfectly normal despite slamming sugar into her face all the time. She's made a list of new diseases she wants to be checked for. They've already done metabolic testing that's being processed, but she's "scared to hope" for a positive result.


Spends her birthday at the hospital.
She has TWO enabling women who never leave her bedside!

Back story on the resection surgery: as a teen her "tummy" (please stop using this word, holy shit, you are an adult) kept growing despite being skinny. Doctors told her to cut out the soda and cookies. She was admitted to Great Ormond Street Hospital for an exploratory lapro which ended in a resection of part of her ileum. These doctors simply aren't looking past the horses in front of them to see the true zebra she is. Remember when this current admission was the best hospital, totally different, doing everything they could for her? Not anymore.
and the answer is: she was originally put in this hospital for an endocrinology complaint but when they realized the steroids work just fine under obvs and her symptoms changed from "adrenal crisis" to whatever the fuck she's doing now, she's moved to the peasant unit until they can figure out what specialist she actually needs. While she's there she has to deal with sick people doing the things sick people do which means she's in a box with a curtain for a wall smelling bedpans rather than her cushy private "penthouse" she had.
She's back to her "chapters" but skipping all the ones where she got tossed down to the peasant ward, put on a sugar drip, and faked seizures and hallucinations for attention. Forty: they're still testing her but nothing is showing up. Forty-one: enter "Maverick," a doctor who has a personal interest in her case, who stops at nothing to solve it and works long overtime hours researching her. He's doing extremely rare and sensitive metabolic testing on her now.
Now that she has him she's back to begging the spoonies to give her more rare diseases to look into based on unproven symptoms, ones she could easily fake, and a few elevated tests weeks ago when she had an infection. A few sensible commenters say steroids and/or withdrawal from them.
I hate to sound like my mother but you'd feel better if you took a shower and combed your hair. Forty-two: she sees new consultants every day and none of them can help her. She asks for muscle biopsies and a lumbar puncture per spoonie recommendation but gets neither. Forty-three: Her 'attacks' are probably panic attacks, are you shocked? Forty-four: she's losing her shit that they don't have a dramatic diagnosis she can post all over social media. Why is every test negative? They want to send her home but she's not leaving without a diagnosis!
Her family has been bringing her food the whole time so she doesn't have to eat icky hospital food, and it's all in nice aesthetic instagrammable displays. This meal includes a whole cake because you need a little treat now and then.
Forty-five: the best part about the hospital is the massages. (???) Forty-six is not a number. Forty-seven: her friends also bring her food. Forty-eight: others get discharged but she stays, using pillows and blankets to hide her weight gain.
Again begging for ideas of diagnoses to hound her doctors for. This time we get one of the lonely non-munchies in her comments section (cj_kidneylife) saying getting the fuck out of the hospital will make her feel better.

Forty-nine: she's been on IV glucose for weeks, an enormous dose of dexamethasone, sodium, antibiotics, and b-vitamins plus pain and antispasmodic meds and she's seeing some improvement. Still waiting to see if this is some rare metabolic disease.
Fifty: Her family is now serving her meals on a 'silver' platter.
fifty-one: being in the general ward still sucks, pls luxury suite? fifty-two: the night they shut off her glucose drip she ran around the ward ripping down posters, drinking more warm milk, then went "terrified and mute" in her bed for hours until they gave it back. Fifty-three: Tilly is such a wonderful and empathetic person while complaining that her hospital roommates scream all night and have to use commodes. How dare those sick people disrupt her beauty rest?
Fifty three (again): everyone had to stop and help her walk because she hunched over and could only take little shuffling steps with all the spasms. Andie is that u? Fifty-four: then her "tummy" became paralyzed and swelled. They asked if she's pregunte and she's offended. They ask every woman between ages 13 and 70 that question, toots. Fifty-five: she can walk again. A miracle.

Fifty-six: she's just too darn rare of a zebra for this horse hospital! Thank god Maverick came along. Fifty-seven: some of her metabolic testing comes back abnormal. She's overjoyed. Maverick is now in touch with the best metabolic center in the country
Fifty-eight: it turns out the day she entered the hospital was the same day they did a massive staff changeover and all the seasoned trainees were swapped out for med school larvae. I wonder if that's why they agreed to tests for all these rare diseases. She was the first bullshitter they encountered in a clinical setting. Fifty-nine: but now she no longer gets the House MD treatment and she's in a general ward, barefoot, sleeping to the smell of bedpans and refusing to wash herself.
Sixty: they can't diagnose her at her current hospital because she's too rare but they can't transfer her to a specialist because she doesn't have a diagnosis. But this time they've agreed to see her without a diagnosis, an exception they NEVER make except for her and her very special case that's just so utterly fascinating. Right. Also I notice she said multiple things were off on her metabolic testing but doesn't say what. She's still just bringing up that one lactate test that could have had an easy explanation. She won't be seen inpatient at this clinic. Sixty-one: since they can't diagnose her and all her treatment can be done at home, she's unceremoniously booted out of her hospital squat.
