Ga vs ga+ rolling loud

Ich brauche ne Phalloplastik. Das steht jetzt spätestens seit der Mastek endgültig fest. Ich hab auch ne Hysto also damit eig auch gute Chancen die GaOP bezahlt zu kriegen. Jetzt hab ich aber kurz vor der Kombi OP aus Mastek und Hysto meine Psychologin geghostet. das is jetzt fast nen Jahr her. wir haben noch ca 5 Sitzungen. Sie war ganz okay, sehr verplant aber hilfreich bei meinen Themen (sozialphobie, etc) und hat mir Indikationen (wenn auch oft falsch) ohne Umstände ausgehändigt. Ich würde sie auch wieder sehen hab aber Angst das in zwischen zu viel Zeit vergangen ist. Ich hab halt zusätzlich weder eine Ahnung wie man das alles angehen soll, noch wie das mit meinem Job vereinbar ist. Ich arbeite im Sozialen Bereich, mache derzeit noch mind 2 Jahre eine Ausbildung. Die einzige Möglichkeit die mir eingefallen ist, ist erstmal Büroarbeit zu machen bis ich wieder normal laufen kann aber das wiederholt sich ja dann auch nochmal es sind ja mind 3 Ops..... d.h. mind 3x bis zu 6 Wochen nicht da sein. Das ist in der Ausbildung nicht drin aber auch danach wird es schwierig, sowas zu machen ohne das das Team darunter leidet.... Desweiteren fehlt mir einfach Wissen darüber was jetzt wie alt sein darf. Wenn ich jetzt eine Indikation abhole, die sagen wir mal in 5 Jahren genutzt wird. Ist die dann zu alt? lohnt sich das dann überhaupt? kann man Psychologen um eine aktuelle Version bitten, auch wenn man nicht in Behandlung ist? Reicht eine Indikation wenn alles andere nicht benannt wurde? bei meiner steht z.B. das alle geschlechtsangleichenden OPs indiziert sind, aktuell ist besonders die Ablatio Mammae wichtig.
Aber das is nen 2 Zeiler die vom MDK wollen doch meistens so richtig krasses Zeug was mind 2 Seiten lang geht? Ich hab auch Angst, weil bei mir eine Psychotherapie einfach kein Leiden diagnostizieren kann, das ich keine neue Psychotherapie bekomme (ohne diagnose schwierig wegen trans hatte ich schonmal eine) und dann das mit der Phallo vergessen kann. Es ist nicht so das ich nicht darunter leide, ich ignoriere es nur meistens weil ich meinen Ist-Zustand noch ein paar Jahre ertragen muss. Ich hab richtig Angst das mir das irgentwann als "nicht genug leiden" ausgelegt werden kann. genauso hab ich Angst davor wieder mit ihr zu reden und dann gefragt zu werden, warum ich mich nicht melde... ach keine ahnung ich weiß einfach nicht obs das bringt so. Ob ich mir jetzt die "Mehrarbeit" eine Therapiesitzung geben will (die dauern bei ihr gerne mal 1,5h) oder ob ich einfach in 2 Jahren jemanden Neues suche auf die Gefahr hin, das dann der Prozess länger dauert. Ich hab irgentwie grad das Gefühl es bring eh alles nix, weil ich meine Ausbildung machen muss:/

Rolling Loud Munich, going alone and tryna make a group chat and looking for people who will attend the festival. Dm if interested!

Cpl Cooper's eyes opened, very, very slowly. Faint sounds of M-16's chattered softly in his ears as his platoon returned fire against the late afternoon N.V.A ambush. His face hurt, no doubt due to the impact of Private Henley's skull into his own. Private Henley lay silently over Cooper, or at least what was left of him did. Henley was missing his right arm and most of his face was now a charred mangle of flesh. His U.S. Marines fatigues were now black and smoldering were they hadn't just disappeared after the grenade went off and knocked both the men back. Cpl Cooper pushed the larger man off of him, requiring more strength than he thought he'd need. He eyed his former brother in arms for a moment, the usual feelings of terror and disgust threatening to overwhelm, as friends met their end in the jungle around him. A familiar voice could be heard now yelling something, drawing Cooper's attention. Lt. Murdock was pointing at him for some reason, before turning and barking orders in between bursts of his rifle.
Strong arms grasped Cooper and yanked him to his feet. He steadied himself and attempted to clear his mind. Another familiar face stared back at him, looking suspiciously like Private Harris motioning for him to duck. Dirt and blood speckled his dark skin as he rapped his knuckles against Cooper's helmet and shouted, "YOU GOOD DOC?"
Cooper immediately ducked and then nodded his head, unsure if he was answering truthfully.
Private Harris unslung an M-16 and pressed into Cooper's hands and shouted, "YOU DROPPED THIS!"
"THANKS!", Cooper yelled as he gripped his weapon and quickly checked to see its functionality. No sooner than he had done so, Harris's eyes went wide and began yelling, "CHARLIE! 6 O'CLO.." before two rounds pierced his throat and forehead and dropped him. Cooper pointed and fired blindly. Emotion flowed from him through every round he dispensed. He emptied his entire magazine into the forest behind the main group of soldiers and repeated Harris's announcement.
"6 O'CLOCK, 6 O'CLOCK!!"
Cooper ripped the grenade off his belt, put the pin in his teeth and pulled it out with great satisfaction. He cooked the grenade for a second before tossing it out with a hearty "FUCK YOU!" Cries of surprise and screams of pain followed the explosion. Cooper ejected his magazine and replaced it as the sound of dozens of Viet Cong infantry screamed towards him. Sgt. Phillip's massive bulk stepped into view with a scream of his own. Phillips leveled his flamethrower and began dousing the forest with flame. Cooper had learned to admire the big man, as this hadn't been the first time he'd stepped in to save him. The terrible acrid stench of fuel, fire and burning flesh assaulted his senses. Body after body fell in flames. Phillips had his typical wide eyed, maniacal grin he usually had when he was killing. Cooper started firing alongside him. Five more Marines stepped in beside them and unleashed hell at the enemy. The ambushes had been coming now for days, whittling down Cooper's platoon and exhausting everyone who survived. He was tired, he had seen far too many friends die, and he just wanted to go home. Incoming fire eventually stopped coming from the platoon's rear now, and the fireteam began fanning out to clear the area.
Cooper quickly sprinted towards Lt. Murdock who was now yelling coordinates into a radio. Two Marines lay next to him, one convulsing and one lying still. Cooper slid down next to the convulsing one and checked him for extra holes, for which he had one in his gut. He pulled out a shot of morphine and dosed the man, which slowed his shaking. Checking the wound, he saw what was clearly a large amount of blood loss and began putting pressure on the wound with his right hand.
"Shit, Shit, Shit, come on man don't fucking die!"
With his left hand he checked the soldier's pulse, finding it extremely weak and thready. The man's eyes rolled up towards his eyebrows and his breaths began to slow. Not again, Cooper thought. Too many. He'd seen too many friends die, he couldn't watch another one. He buried his head into the man's chest and began to sob as he felt the rise and fall of his chest quickly begin to cease. Cooper grasped the agate stone that hung on a necklace alongside his dogtags, and cursed the mystic shop owner who had sold it to him. The guys in his troop had laughed at him when he bought it back in Saigon, telling him that no magic stone would protect him when he was out in the shit. He hadn't cared, thinking that any superstition that gave you hope, was as good as another.
He ripped the stone off and placed it over the man's chest as he began compressions. After two intervals he checked the pulse. Nothing. He was gone. Emotion filled Cooper. He couldn't tell what he felt, but he was sure it wasn't sadness. This was more like determination. He funneled all of his thought and consciousness into the ball that was his fist and slammed it into the chest of the corpse. Nothing. Cooper hit him again. And again. Rage pouring out of him with each strike. Rage for this God forsaken jungle. Rage for this God forsaken war. Rage for his failure.
The still body twitched. Cooper nearly fell back in amazement. Fingers straightened out and eyelids burst opened wide. The man sat up impossibly fast with a pale, surprised look on his face and drew in a deep, loud breath. Cooper nearly pissed himself. The once dead soldier looked around in bewilderment and pulled up his shirt to expose his bullet entry wound. Blood still pooled around him, but the wound had apparently already clotted. In fact, color even began returning to the man's face.
"Uhhh Doc?...." the bewildered man asked.
"What's your name soldier?" Cooper asked.
"Private Ortiz."
"Well Ortiz, it seems you just had an out of body experience."
Ortiz gave a half-hearted chuckle, "No Shit?"
The sounds of battle had begun to fade to the outskirts of the valley that the ambush had been launched. Laughs and cheers could be heard as Murdock called out to his men that air-support was coming and the N.V.A. was falling back.
Cooper stared incredulously at the necklace in his hand for a moment. Could the knick knack have done it? Ortiz broke his concentration by asking,
"Doc, are you religous?"
Cooper didn't know what to believe in this moment. He shook his head.
"No, Agnostic apparently."
Ortiz stared uncomfortably into Cooper's eyes, grabbed him by collar and said,
"I fucking met him Doc. The guy who takes you to hell. He was all teeth, and fucking eyes all over him. And he smiled.... That fucking smile. I can't unsee it!" Ortiz rubbed his face, "He says your name and tells you he's been waiting." A tear rolled down Ortiz's face. "Then, I felt a pounding on my chest and suddenly I see you."
Cooper knew that some people claim to have seen things when they come back from Cardiac arrest. He remembered his trainer telling him an anecdote of something similar during medic school.
"Well you're back with us now Ortiz. Try not to move too much, I gave you morphine so you'll have trouble walking."
Lt. Murdock approached the two men and said in his customary confident manner,
"Cooper, Ortiz, glad to see you're still with us. Let's get everyone mobile in ten, we're heading home."
Back in Saigon, Cooper and Ortiz stood facing a small shop, nestled comfortably within a busy market near the outskirts of town. Ortiz had a puzzled look on his face.
"You got it here?"
Cooper half shrugged,
"Told you, nothing special."
Cooper led Ortiz into the shop. Shop was a generous name, as it was little more than the a hovel that was converted into a shop during the day. A Vietnamese man, small in stature but beaming with pride, stood in the middle of the store and graciously invited the men inside. He spoke very limited English so conversation was, interesting. Cooper held out his necklace to the shorter man.
"You sold me this, remember?"
The shop owner stared for a moment at the necklace before he shook his head.
"No refund."
Cooper shook his own head in response,
"No no, I don't want a refund. I want to thank you!"
The shopowner looked perplexed. Cooper spread out his arms and motioned for a hug. The shopowner took a careful step back. Ortiz laughed and held out his hand toward Cooper.
"Doc, I don't think he's a hugger."
Ortiz pointed at the necklace and slowly asked the shopowner,
"Do you have more of these?"
The shopowner smiled and motioned them towards a small bamboo box full of the things. The two soldiers stood in awe.
"Bring good fortune." The shopowner spoke the words in a practiced fashion. "Ten Cent."
Cooper scoffed. "You charged me a quarter last time."
The shopowner switched to his native tongue and spoke in a much louder fashion now. It was clear whatever the smaller man thought he had heard was insulting. Cooper put his hands up.
"Ok, OK, fine."
Ortiz reached into his pocket and pulled out a dime, then presented it for payment. The shopkeeper picked up the coin and stuffed it into a pocket. Then he held up one finger, indicating how many they were welcomed to. The two soldiers selected one and left.
Tran Văn Ngo stood in his shop, his usual beaming pride awash on his face. Liem, his wife, tapped him on the shoulder after the two soldiers had been clearly seen rounding the corner out of their market.
"What the fuck was their deal?" She asked her husband.
"Fuck if I know?" He gestured at the recycled treasures that had been salvaged off dead soldiers. "They crowed about how much they liked that useless crap we got." Liem giggled. "Fucking seriously?" Tran giggled himself. "Fucking seriously."

Cpl Cooper's eyes opened, very, very slowly. Faint sounds of M-16's chattered softly in his ears as his platoon returned fire against the late afternoon N.V.A ambush. His face hurt, no doubt due to the impact of Private Henley's skull into his own. Private Henley lay silently over Cooper, or at least what was left of him did. Henley was missing his right arm and most of his face was now a charred mangle of flesh. His U.S. Marines fatigues were now black and smoldering were they hadn't just disappeared after the grenade went off and knocked both the men back. Cpl Cooper pushed the larger man off of him, requiring more strength than he thought he'd need. He eyed his former brother in arms for a moment, the usual feelings of terror and disgust threatening to overwhelm, as friends met their end in the jungle around him. A familiar voice could be heard now yelling something, drawing Cooper's attention. Lt. Murdock was pointing at him for some reason, before turning and barking orders in between bursts of his rifle.
Strong arms grasped Cooper and yanked him to his feet. He steadied himself and attempted to clear his mind. Another familiar face stared back at him, looking suspiciously like Private Harris motioning for him to duck. Dirt and blood speckled his dark skin as he rapped his knuckles against Cooper's helmet and shouted, "YOU GOOD DOC?"
Cooper immediately ducked and then nodded his head, unsure if he was answering truthfully.
Private Harris unslung an M-16 and pressed into Cooper's hands and shouted, "YOU DROPPED THIS!"
"THANKS!", Cooper yelled as he gripped his weapon and quickly checked to see its functionality. No sooner than he had done so, Harris's eyes went wide and began yelling, "CHARLIE! 6 O'CLO.." before two rounds pierced his throat and forehead and dropped him. Cooper pointed and fired blindly. Emotion flowed from him through every round he dispensed. He emptied his entire magazine into the forest behind the main group of soldiers and repeated Harris's announcement.
"6 O'CLOCK, 6 O'CLOCK!!"
Cooper ripped the grenade off his belt, put the pin in his teeth and pulled it out with great satisfaction. He cooked the grenade for a second before tossing it out with a hearty "FUCK YOU!" Cries of surprise and screams of pain followed the explosion. Cooper ejected his magazine and replaced it as the sound of dozens of Viet Cong infantry screamed towards him. Sgt. Phillip's massive bulk stepped into view with a scream of his own. Phillips leveled his flamethrower and began dousing the forest with flame. Cooper had learned to admire the big man, as this hadn't been the first time he'd stepped in to save him. The terrible acrid stench of fuel, fire and burning flesh assaulted his senses. Body after body fell in flames. Phillips had his typical wide eyed, maniacal grin he usually had when he was killing. Cooper started firing alongside him. Five more Marines stepped in beside them and unleashed hell at the enemy. The ambushes had been coming now for days, whittling down Cooper's platoon and exhausting everyone who survived. He was tired, he had seen far too many friends die, and he just wanted to go home. Incoming fire eventually stopped coming from the platoon's rear now, and the fireteam began fanning out to clear the area.
Cooper quickly sprinted towards Lt. Murdock who was now yelling coordinates into a radio. Two Marines lay next to him, one convulsing and one lying still. Cooper slid down next to the convulsing one and checked him for extra holes, for which he had one in his gut. He pulled out a shot of morphine and dosed the man, which slowed his shaking. Checking the wound, he saw what was clearly a large amount of blood loss and began putting pressure on the wound with his right hand.
"Shit, Shit, Shit, come on man don't fucking die!"
With his left hand he checked the soldier's pulse, finding it extremely weak and thready. The man's eyes rolled up towards his eyebrows and his breaths began to slow. Not again, Cooper thought. Too many. He'd seen too many friends die, he couldn't watch another one. He buried his head into the man's chest and began to sob as he felt the rise and fall of his chest quickly begin to cease. Cooper grasped the agate stone that hung on a necklace alongside his dogtags, and cursed the mystic shop owner who had sold it to him. The guys in his troop had laughed at him when he bought it back in Saigon, telling him that no magic stone would protect him when he was out in the shit. He hadn't cared, thinking that any superstition that gave you hope, was as good as another.
He ripped the stone off and placed it over the man's chest as he began compressions. After two intervals he checked the pulse. Nothing. He was gone. Emotion filled Cooper. He couldn't tell what he felt, but he was sure it wasn't sadness. This was more like determination. He funneled all of his thought and consciousness into the ball that was his fist and slammed it into the chest of the corpse. Nothing. Cooper hit him again. And again. Rage pouring out of him with each strike. Rage for this God forsaken jungle. Rage for this God forsaken war. Rage for his failure.
The still body twitched. Cooper nearly fell back in amazement. Fingers straightened out and eyelids burst opened wide. The man sat up impossibly fast with a pale, surprised look on his face and drew in a deep, loud breath. Cooper nearly pissed himself. The once dead soldier looked around in bewilderment and pulled up his shirt to expose his bullet entry wound. Blood still pooled around him, but the wound had apparently already clotted. In fact, color even began returning to the man's face.
"Uhhh Doc?...." the bewildered man asked.
"What's your name soldier?" Cooper asked.
"Private Ortiz."
"Well Ortiz, it seems you just had an out of body experience."
Ortiz gave a half-hearted chuckle, "No Shit?"
The sounds of battle had begun to fade to the outskirts of the valley that the ambush had been launched. Laughs and cheers could be heard as Murdock called out to his men that air-support was coming and the N.V.A. was falling back.
Cooper stared incredulously at the necklace in his hand for a moment. Could the knick knack have done it? Ortiz broke his concentration by asking,
"Doc, are you religous?"
Cooper didn't know what to believe in this moment. He shook his head.
"No, Agnostic apparently."
Ortiz stared uncomfortably into Cooper's eyes, grabbed him by collar and said,
"I fucking met him Doc. The guy who takes you to hell. He was all teeth, and fucking eyes all over him. And he smiled.... That fucking smile. I can't unsee it!" Ortiz rubbed his face, "He says your name and tells you he's been waiting." A tear rolled down Ortiz's face. "Then, I felt a pounding on my chest and suddenly I see you."
Cooper knew that some people claim to have seen things when they come back from Cardiac arrest. He remembered his trainer telling him an anecdote of something similar during medic school.
"Well you're back with us now Ortiz. Try not to move too much, I gave you morphine so you'll have trouble walking."
Lt. Murdock approached the two men and said in his customary confident manner,
"Cooper, Ortiz, glad to see you're still with us. Let's get everyone mobile in ten, we're heading home."
Back in Saigon, Cooper and Ortiz stood facing a small shop, nestled comfortably within a busy market near the outskirts of town. Ortiz had a puzzled look on his face.
"You got it here?"
Cooper half shrugged,
"Told you, nothing special."
Cooper led Ortiz into the shop. Shop was a generous name, as it was little more than the a hovel that was converted into a shop during the day. A Vietnamese man, small in stature but beaming with pride, stood in the middle of the store and graciously invited the men inside. He spoke very limited English so conversation was, interesting. Cooper held out his necklace to the shorter man.
"You sold me this, remember?"
The shop owner stared for a moment at the necklace before he shook his head.
"No refund."
Cooper shook his own head in response,
"No no, I don't want a refund. I want to thank you!"
The shopowner looked perplexed. Cooper spread out his arms and motioned for a hug. The shopowner took a careful step back. Ortiz laughed and held out his hand toward Cooper.
"Doc, I don't think he's a hugger."
Ortiz pointed at the necklace and slowly asked the shopowner,
"Do you have more of these?"
The shopowner smiled and motioned them towards a small bamboo box full of the things. The two soldiers stood in awe.
"Bring good fortune." The shopowner spoke the words in a practiced fashion. "Ten Cent."
Cooper scoffed. "You charged me a quarter last time."
The shopowner switched to his native tongue and spoke in a much louder fashion now. It was clear whatever the smaller man thought he had heard was insulting. Cooper put his hands up.
"Ok, OK, fine."
Ortiz reached into his pocket and pulled out a dime, then presented it for payment. The shopkeeper picked up the coin and stuffed it into a pocket. Then he held up one finger, indicating how many they were welcomed to. The two soldiers selected one and left.
Tran Văn Ngo stood in his shop, his usual beaming pride awash on his face. Liem, his wife, tapped him on the shoulder after the two soldiers had been clearly seen rounding the corner out of their market.
"What the fuck was their deal?" She asked her husband.
"Fuck if I know?" He gestured at the recycled treasures that had been salvaged off dead soldiers. "They crowed about how much they liked that useless crap we got." Liem giggled. "Fucking seriously?" Tran giggled himself. "Fucking seriously."

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All State - PICK 3 List Performance for 2023-06-09
Numbers:('000','002','004','006','009','015','018','022','024','026','027','029','033','036','044','045','046','049','066','069','078','099','114','117','123','126','135','144','159','168','177','189','222','224','225','226','229','234','244','246','249','258','266','267','269','279','288','299','333','339','348','357','366','369','378','444','446','447','449','456','459','466','468','469','477','499','555','558','567','666','669','699','999')

State	Draw Date	Draw Time	Winning Number	BOX Number	VTRAC Number
CT	2023-06-09	Midday	447	447	355
FL	2023-06-09	Midday	495	459	155
FL	2023-06-09	Evening	882	288	344
GA	2023-06-09	Midday	720	027	133
IA	2023-06-09	Evening	153	135	124
IL	2023-06-09	Midday	324	234	345
MD	2023-06-09	Midday	468	468	245
MD	2023-06-09	Evening	828	288	344
ME	2023-06-09	Evening	468	468	245
MO	2023-06-09	Midday	321	123	234
MO	2023-06-09	Evening	690	069	125
NH	2023-06-09	Evening	468	468	245
OH	2023-06-09	Midday	222	222	333
ONT	2023-06-09	Evening	496	469	255
PA	2023-06-09	Evening	424	244	355
PA	2023-06-09	Midday	604	046	125
TN	2023-06-09	Morning	819	189	245
TX	2023-06-09	Evening	299	299	355
VA	2023-06-09	Midday	195	159	125
VT	2023-06-09	Evening	468	468	245
WA	2023-06-09	Evening	807	078	134
WI	2023-06-09	Evening	694	469	255

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Honestly, I’ve only met a handful of people that know the law. Just trying to figure out if this could benefit people.
So here’s the scenario:
Something is illegal in Jamaica (factually)
1 person will be like : “that’s correct”
And the rest will argue that :
“All of my bredrins dem ah dweet so it’s not a law and your lying”
It’s kinda weird thats how people act. Ignorance.

1. Not knowing the laws
2. telling people they are wrong and a Liyad because they do it 😂

There’s a difference with a law that’s not being enforced often in this case vs not a law.
Although my example is trivial.
I wonder if it would benefit people knowing the law or do we just roll with it what others are doing in ignorance like we have done over the years to great success?
Ps. I know the laws are wildly out of date. However, knowing them will guide us into what needs change.