One of my exes was really into making clothing. I learnt second hand (via venting) how difficult it is to get a printer to print 1cm=1cm accurately when you buy a “pattern” (basically a tracing you follow to chop up the fabric).
They would check every printout, and half the time they had to print the same thing multiple times because the printer decided to be stupid and add a half centimetre here or there or subtly stretch it; which matters a lot for a good fit. It was a whole big thing, apparently. At least for cheap printers.








As a zebra patient… too many to list lol
But the one that stands out is my original POTS diagnostic test. They did something called a “tilt table test”. They strap you on a table like a torture film, literally head straps and everything, and then raise the table vertically. The idea is to see how well your body adapts to gravity.
Normally I have pretty good compensations for my condition. I’ve learnt specific ways to stand, lean, and hold my body so that my circulation works… not well, but decently. I can get up to make toast every now and then, stuff like that.
The table bypasses all that. Immediately I suffered extremely bad effects. I could feel all the blood draining from my brain and my body and pooling into my legs. Couldn’t breathe properly, vision going white, feeling absolutely horrible. I can’t accurately describe the feeling of all your blood leaving your vital organs. It felt extremely bad, I felt like I was dying. Like a cold shower on the inside, hollowness, pain.
Worst part was, I was too weak to even ask them to cancel the test, or move to remove the bindings myself. Turns out you need blood to do stuff like that. I was completely paralyzed.
The doctors were like “wow this is the worst POTS I’ve ever seen! Usually when people say they have POTS it turns out they don’t, but man… hey let’s show Larry” and they leave the room to go find Larry and show them the interesting POTS patient. I could barely see on the monitor my heart rate was 180bpm and my blood pressure was 80/40mmol, which is very bad. I eventually lost consciousness completely. As I passed out I accepted that I was going to die right there on the stupid table because nobody noticed the problem.
I didn’t die (obviously). I came to when I was horizontal on the table again and they were unstrapping me. No idea how long I was out for, but fuck that. Nobody told me it would be that bad. “A bit uncomfortable” my ass.
After all that, I got my diagnosis for severe POTS after 10 years of confusing symptoms. Now I have some medicine that helps it not be so severe, so I guess it was worth it in the end?