Wrinkled Hands Cure

Frequently Asked Questions

1. QUESTION:
   Is there a cure for wrinkled hands?
   well im 17 bout to be 18, and im getting tired of have wrinkled hands, its been a lil hard growing up while ppl always made fun saying eww and u need lotion and that i let my hands in water to much, it hurts alot, and i been looki on the internet for a cure but i cant find nothing, and also i have like little dots on my body, and i dont know what they are they have also been with me for a long time ppl would always say dang u got goose bumps and stuff, im tired of it i also think it makes me insecure about my self, i think it has stoped me from having a gf, i have the dots on the bottom side of my arms and on my upper arms, my lower back, and all over my legs, is there any that can help me please... i need help for a change for my future life!!! Help please and thanks!!!

   • ANSWER:
     First of all those red dots are probably pimples and second of all you are way too self consious about yourself. Who cares what other people think about you. Its how you look and you should accept yourself for who you are. The people who are making fun of you are mabey jealous of your hands and skin because you look better than any of them. Just ignore them and go on with your life!

2. QUESTION:
   My mom has itching and wrinkled hands, what's the cure?
   My mom has itching and wrinkled hands, we think it's because she washes too much dishes. She's in her 30's.
   is this happening because of the cleaning? And what's the cure?

   • ANSWER:
     Well the obvious answer is to wear rubber gloves. The excess dish soap she's exposed to is a likely culprit for the overdrying causing premature aging.
     From now on, after any exposure to detergents and soaps, apply a rich hand cream (it doesn't really matter which brand).

3. QUESTION:
   how to reduce or cure wrinkles on hands...?
   hi my hands are very rough and wrinkles are there.is there any way to reduce it....??i will do waxing in parlour once in a month?is it the reason for that ? how to cure it

   • ANSWER:

4. QUESTION:
   Wrinkled Hands @ 18 (Pics, be prepared, it's just Eugh in my eyes, and most likely yours) Any cure?
   Okay, so this is my second time asking as the first time I only got 1 reply saying it was normal.
   All due respect to whoever replied, I had no pics so it's a reasonable answer. But now, well, now it gets ugly.
   http://imageshack.us/f/687/dsc00082et.jpg/ http://imageshack.us/photo/my-images/683/dsc0010un.jpg/ Closer, but "eugh".
   Those small battle-scar like creases also run right up my fingers to the tips.

   Usually I'm not that concerned, I think I've been aware of it for a while. I've only just recently looked at them and thought, "These guys are a little ahead of their time, by what looks like 40 years"
   I've tried moisturizing frequently, I'm usually well hydrated, I've a healthy diet.
   My brother said it's possible due to using weights, as in dumbells, but I have my doubts.

   For those who doubt my age, I can only say, I assure you that I'm 18 years old.
   Do note, those pictures are of my hand outstretched (but not like, forcing a stretch, just open palmed), I'm sure you can imagine what it's like if my hand is "contracted" slightly.
   To me, the most noteable, and "worst" area, is the part inbetween my thumb and index finger.

   • ANSWER:
     Those are lines, we all have those, those are not WRINKLES.

     It comes from your good genes.

     HOW TO KEEP HANDS MOISTURIZED:
     Wear gloves for everything you do: paper - filled with toxic. Chores in the kitchen, garden, around the house - chemicals and dirt plus sun exposures can age the hands. During fall, winter & spring, wear leather gloves lined with thinsulate, to protect you from the environment. Even when weightlifting! If you don't, you'll end up with callous hands! That's why people who play baseballs & golfers wear them! Race car drivers wear them too!

     Carry one everywhere you go a disposable gloves so you don't have to keep washing your hands, protects you from germs and from opening doors, or using the public restrooms, too!

     Washing too often with hot water, causes 'dishpan' hands. The use of Antibacterial soap, is also drying to the hands, they're chemicals we don't really NEED, and I've seen warnings about them, around foods.
     If they're chapped, put Cetaphil lotion while your hands are still a bit damp, then wear cotton gloves at night.

     Sources:
     I have over 4 decades of good skin care. My hands perfect candidate for hand-model.

5. QUESTION:
   whats a cure for wrinkle hands?
   any tips to reduce wrinkle lines on my hands?

   • ANSWER:
     Use a good hand lotion after each hand washing or after you have your hands in any type of chemicls such as dish detergent. alveno does a really good one it moisturizes for 24 hrs. and does not have a really noticeable smell. suave also does one that is coca butter and shea butter. or just use the old reliable jergans. The first two are the best. I wash dishes at a local restaurant on the weekends and because I also have really dry hands I have to use something all the time. These work great for me.

6. QUESTION:
   why do i have old ppl's hands and how do i cure them?
   i'm 17, and ever since i have memory children been making fun of my old wrinkled hands. when i enterd high school i asked to be allowd gloves and they let me have them good. so i met this guy online and i met him yesterday live... tht bastard... i deciced my gloves would be creepy and then he was cool until he held my hand and said wtf and stoppd it. he hasn't contact me and when i go online he logs off. :'( i'm sick of this plz give me a solution PLEASE they look normal up until mywrist then there's a lot of linesin my palm and they look dark and dirty :'( i;m so disgusted by myself!! plz help

   • ANSWER:

7. QUESTION:
   I destroyed my hands with dish soap, how do I fix them?
   I have all of these ugly wrinkles that weren't there before and my hands are dry and tight..I've tried all of the hand creams but nothing cures them. How do I get them moist again and how do I make the wrinkles disappear?

   • ANSWER:
     Have you tried talking to a dermatologist? They would have medicated moisturizers that would work a lot better than an over-the-counter creme. Have you tried putting vaseline on, or a really good moisturizer, and wearing gloves to bed. Sounds crazy but when my feet get dry if I have been in the lake or outside for the day, I will put some baby oil or moisturizer on them and wear socks to bed. It does wonders!

     I hope some of that helps - Good luck!

8. QUESTION:
   Palm wrinkles - 18 years old. Is there a cure?
   So, my palms basically look aged. I would say especially the raised part of the palm connecting to the thumb, running up the side to the index finger. That would be the "worst" part. Criss-crossing creases everywhere really. In general my whole hand is fairly wrinkled.
   I suspect it might be dehydration, as I can visibly see those small, intricate lines that make up one's fingerprint (however I can see such lines all over my palm), but I should also state that I do drink a hefty amount of fluids all day.
   I drink a lot of tea - Could this be the cause? It's a diuretic, right?
   I do moisturize my hands, now and then. I usually "Have" to do this after water has hit my hand, because it's like my hand instantly feels dried out once the water evaporates.

   Maybe, is it genetic?
   I'd say I'm more curious than concerned, but a cure for it is welcomed.

   Thankyou.

   • ANSWER:
     That's not wrinkles, it's normal.

9. QUESTION:
   Why is one of my hands completely dried out and looks like the hand of a 70 year old, but my other hand looks?
   young?

   My left hand is all flaky, wrinkled, and scary looking, almost like freddy krooger or something. But my right hand is normal for my age (23).

   Is half of my body dying of old age pre-maturely?

   And don't tell me to use lotion or whatever. I am not asking for cures, i'm asking for explanations.
   ok, sorry, i didn't mean to sound rude. If you want to offer cures, that's cool

   • ANSWER:
     are you left handed? if you are, you may be using it more and wearing it out. chemicals, like toilet cleaners or dishwasher soap will make your hand go ugly if you don't wear protective gloves

     i know you don't want people to tell you to use lotion but hear me out.. try slathering on vaseline or baby oil on your hand at night and wrap it in a foil bag, place a sock on it, and sleep in it.
     see if it improves the condition of your hand after a couple of days. if it doesnt change anything, consult a dermatologist cuz it could be a skin condition or allergy (my bf had a crusty hand from allergies)

10. QUESTION:
    My hands and feet have major wrinkles that of a 90 year old and have been since birth. Is there a name for it?
    Aged skin, the rest of my body flakes daily and I have tried every lotion. The lines on my hands and feet are a lot more defined than normal hands and feet and they aren't soft. They look like a 90 year olds and have since birth. Does anyone know if there is a name for this or if there is a cure for it

    • ANSWER:
      There isnt a name for it, try Eucerin cream or lotion.

11. QUESTION:
    guys n gals !!! in need of ur help.....i m so embarassed even to shake hands with others !!!?
    i m so happy to see u all helping others with their problems.....may god bless u all...
    frends i hav very dry skin ,,specially undersides of my hands n feet r very rough n hard also the upper side of my hands n legs are dry n wrinkled ..u know like n ald womans...i m only 16...just starting my life...i hav lost confidence in my self becos of this ..specially hanging around with boys...i just want some emotional support..and of cos any cure u may know...tell me a few things i could eat n drink...n also any ointment or creams u guys might know...thnx to all 4 reading this crap..thanxxxxx

    • ANSWER:
      No problem. I love helping people out. I would just say start rubbing lotion on your hands and feet. Do that every day and in about 3-4 days you will see its going down. I dont think it has anything to do with what you eat.

12. QUESTION:
    Any cures to chronic hand eczema?
    Hey guys. Basically I really desperately want rid of my eczema. Please help me.
    the problem basically is that my skin, well I was born with bad eczema. It went down over time. so now it's not too bad. There isn't any cuts or anything.Just the problem is that my skin is scaly and wrinkled on my hands. It's SO embarrassing. Please please does anyone have a clue how to help get rid of the scales and smooth out my skin? I know there's no ''Cure all'' And everyone says there's so cure at all for Eczema. But people have been cured before with different remedies etc. I know It takes patience but I really really want some help to get rid of the scales and wrinkles. Thankyou very much. Any help at all is appreciated. I've tried tons of creams so something different maybe to remove and help cure the scales and wrinkles? thankyou. :*

    • ANSWER:
      i'll tell you what i tell everyone with eczema.
      the way i control my eczema is with my diet.
      basically i just cut out as much sugar as i can from my diet.
      if i want something sweet i usually go with fruit or honey.
      i tell alot of people this. everyone i meet with eczema. the ones who try it notice a change in 1 week.
      you have nothing to lose. please give it a try
      good luck

13. QUESTION:
    what is the best body lotion out there for serious dry skin?
    im 18 and i do a lot of chores around the house, and for that my skin is horrible! my hands and feet looks like its 30 because of the wrinkles and dryness. my body has stretch marks and it's also very dry! i've been searching to find a good moisturizer out there to cure the dryness of my whole body. does anybody have any great moisturizer they'd like to share with me? please! thanks for your time

    • ANSWER:
      use baby oil from Johnson & Johnson,
      put it on all your body after shower

      u can use shea butter cream from Johnson also , it is really great

      make massage for your body with pure almond oil 1 or 2 times at week

      you will feel different within 1 week

      with all my love

14. QUESTION:
    Do I get enough water?
    I've never been so fond of drinking water, not sure how it started but I've been avoiding it since I was really young. Any water I get in me is through food like soup, vegetables and juice. Is that enough? Okay sometimes I get really dizzy and it get fast cured by a little cup of water. Not sure if it effects my body but I'm really thin (drinking much milk, not coke), my skin a little uneven (dry and not dry) and my hands look wrinkled even though I'm not even 20 yet.

    • ANSWER:
      A good guide is to use your weight as a guide, if you weigh 100 pound, you need half your weight in water in ounces. So 50 oz. If you really don't like it, add a little juice to it, I add a little guava, and a dash of lemon juice

15. QUESTION:
    My skin is really Dry and has been like this for years!!?
    My skin has always been dry i mean since i was like 8. At least thats when i remember it was dry. Annywaayysss... My hands and face is really dry. My hands would be so dry that it would crack and bleed! My skin never got that dry tho. My skin had little white flakes around my lips. It would look like i drank milk like a pig and never cleaned it. I use this cream called "Nivea Cream" and it doesnt really say anything or what its for but i always used it on my face. it didnt have any instructions or ingrediants. After i while i started using Coconut Oil as a face moisterizer and my skin was fine ( not dry ) until today.

    Earlier i noticed that the skin around my lips ( like the edges) was really dry. It was like white and red... There was white flaky parts and the skin was red. and it looks like it got wrinkled badly! how do i fix this! i thought it was just flour from my baking this morning but i washed it a couple of times and its not getting any better. i didnt use and creams or coconut oil. Its really dry. My hands can be cured with Aveeno cream. Aveeno works like magic for me. It fixed up the crack and my HAND never been so smooth. But i dont have aveeno face lotion! how do i fix my facE?! i only have 9 days until school starts! oh nooess!
    I drink LOTS of water. to a point where im in the washroom, then by the time i wash my hands i have to pee again. then when im drying my hands i have to pee AGAIN. i drink lots of waters and liquids.
    im 12 btw.

    • ANSWER:
      Agreed^
      You either need to get one of your parents to take you to the dermatologist or you could try La Mer moisturizer. It is veeeery expensive.. i have eczema and i can only use the ointment i have for it on my body and not my face. So i use La Mer and it works wonders! ( plus everything else burns my skin But that )

      So if you can't afford anything too pricey then maybe try aloe vera gel. But i think you should still talk to your parents and tell them to get you to a derm! or atleast your family doctor or if you dont have one go to the local clinic

16. QUESTION:
    young with wrinkles......and stretch marks.....?
    hi..... im just 16 and ive got a real lotta skin problems..... ive wrinkles to start with..... pimple blemishes,...... a radiant glowwin skin is worlds away..... nd ive got stretch marks all oer ma body..... brest, hips, legs,...... im nt ruly fat.... nt skinny either.... got them frm d past 6 year nd now im desperate and aepressed feeling so unattractive.....
    ....can sumbody please hand me sum cure..... also does lazer fr stretch marks works,...... i wanted to know abt pongs age miracle stuff too...

    • ANSWER:
      I think that is because of your skin type. You might have a very sensitive skin. The best thing that you need to do is to consult a dermatologist. I would not recommend you to undergo laser treatment at this stage. There might other ways to eliminate your skin problems. Check out this website. http://www.bestantiwrinklecreamreviews.com/. I hope this can help.

17. QUESTION:
    Can you interpret my wild dream with violence and healing?
    Ok. Last night I had a rather odd dream.
    I was with some man, who looked to be in his later 20's... maybe 15yrs older than me? I never saw his face, for he always stood in front of me. Only once I managed to see part of his nose and one eye. He was very tall, with blonde-dyed brown root hair that was LA style smooth short spiked. He had bluish-purple eyes; Not a usual color. He wore a blue, wide-sleeved shirt with dressy black pants.
    I was wearing a similar shirt, but mine was white with black sleeves. I had a strange, green & black tattoo on my left hand. Odd, I am a lefty.

    So, enough of descriptions. Here's what happened.

    I am following this man around what looks like the future-only I'm still a teenager. The place is strange. Many of the building are run-down. The town looks as though it had been through a terrible war. I begin to recognize the place as the town neighboring mine.
    I glance around and see some people that look similar to some of my friends. It's hard to tell, because these people are around the same ages the man. Out of everyone around,there is one elderly man. I think he might have been a demon? He walked around in a black hoodie, black,long hair, and red pants. His face was not there very much, only glowing eyes and some wrinkled skin. The man I was following told me he was poisoning people's minds-he was evil. The man had a strong voice, and yet it was gentle. I can not relate him to anyone I know. The rest of the day is a blur.
    It is now night.I am again with the man, only now we both have white jackets on. There are children running now. The man tells me they are all poisoned and I was chosen by God to help him cure them. We (the man and me) find a group of young teens in a corner fighting with knives and doing drugs. He says something in a strange tongue and all the children freeze. With him, I take away all the evil things. The man and me touch every child's head and bless them in a odd launguage. I'm not sure, but it sounded Latin to me. (I don't know much Latin. Just a few scientific/random words and a song) We both take a step backward and the children are moving again. They all look at each other confused, then at us. One says thank you to us, and then we walk away. After a short blur, we are chased by the old man. I say something and put my hand out, he stops and runs off. I put out my left hand. The odd tattoo glows when I do this.
    We enter what looks like the remains of a school. There are bon fires, dead bodies and violence everywhere. The man and me stand on the last remaining staircase of the school. The people surround the stares cursing and throwing all sorts of things at us, including weapons. The holds his hands in a funny way and starts t chant something. I begin to chant it too, putting my hands out, touching, palms faced toward the crowd. The two of us begins to glow-and a light comes from my palms. It grows over the people, and they all collapse. After a short blur in time, I realize the man has just revived me. He says I did it and smiles. He looks like a light, all of him.I only recognize his color and outline. I also look like a light- but not as bright. Many people began to stand up confused.Many thank us for saving them.

    I wake up.

    • ANSWER:
      This is a rain-making dream. The dream is about wanting to be part of the solution to problems of suffering and evil in the world. There is not much more to it than that - you want to learn to help others who are at risk.

18. QUESTION:
    Do you like this piece of writing?
    I spent the whole night sitting next to Omar on his bed. His nanny called the doctor, and some whispering took place between nanny and the doctor. They were cold, soft whispers. Whispers that shook me, and made me feel as if I might loose Omar, as if his baritone, warm voice would fade out of my life at any moment.

    Nanny came in hugging herself, with her usual, lifted head position then she sat down at her chair that stood against a small refrigerator.

    Her wrinkled skin twisted up in a triangle around her mouth as she started to speak. "I believe that you're Omar's friend, and I believe that you love him." She said.

    I nodded. "Yeah sure." I felt that my gesture wasn't enough to describe how important he was for me.

    "Omar has been suffering from tuberculosis for two months now. " she said, crossing her legs and slurping some tea from her mug. "The doctor says that we can't help him."

    I pushed the chair back with all my power that Omar shook in his trance at the sound of its collision with the wall. " can't help him?" I yelled at her. "Are you kidding? He's your grandson for god's sake. Do something."

    She remained silent and unaffected in her seat. " I can't do anything boy."

    " how, you can find him a cure or anything."

    " I guess that it's better for him to die. No cure will help him, the illness has seeped into his body a long time ago, and none of us can help him but God"

    God? I gazed for a moment at the ceiling where a fan whirred languidly overhead." Where's God when we need him?". I thought. Is he somewhere overhead, watching us live in anguish or he's busy making bad things happen to good people?

    "You can do nothing" She said, standing up and leading the way out of the room. " now out of this house. I don't want to see your scrawny face, but at Omar's funeral"

    "He'll not die" I screamed, kicking the chair once again that it landed on the other side of Omar's bed, broken.

    " out boy" She gripped me from the scruff of my shirt across the living room. I struggled like a helpless rat in her hands, but finally she threw me out, slamming the door and shaking the whole building.

    I went back home. My clothes remained kinky, and untidy. I didn't care for looking nice, I didn't care about telling father where I was, I didn't care about anything. Omar will die and I'll stay alone. The air seemed to be speaking sad litanies in my ears, as if telling me to begin mourning now.
    At home, Father opened the door for me. He frowned the moment he saw my expressionless face, and with one hand he gripped me from my shirt and threw me in.

    "where have you been all this time" . His chest puffed in and out as he walked towards me, getting ready for a punching session.

    I gave no heed to his words. I stood up and sauntered to my room. My head drooped to the ground, and my shoulders turned down like a drunken man.

    "I asked you where have you been." Father pulled me from my shoulder, turning me around like a carousel. "Why don't you reply?" . He slapped me twice on both cheeks.

    I focused into his hazel eyes, hoping that my eyes were sending him the message " hit me again. I don’t care". And actually they sent him the desirable message and he slapped me harder over my neck. "Where have you been?"

    I couldn't feel what was happening. The successive slaps and augmenting heat at my cheeks seemed like a part of a dream, a bad dream. But I knew I'd soon wake up.

    • ANSWER:
      It's interesting! I really want to know what happens in the rest of the story. A few parts seemed awkward, like the second and fourth sentences (do we really need to know where her chair is positioned?) and the first time the MC pushes the chair back. There were a few typos, too, but I'm sure you'll work those out in the rereads. Keep it up, and good luck!

19. QUESTION:
    Should i complete writing?
    Chapter 9

    I spent the whole night sitting next to Omar on his bed. His nanny called the doctor, and some whispering took place between nanny and the doctor. They were cold, soft whispers. Whispers that shook me, and made me feel as if I might loose Omar, as if his baritone, warm voice would fade out of my life at any moment.

    Nanny came in hugging herself, with her usual, lifted head position then she sat down at her chair that stood against a small refrigerator.

    Her wrinkled skin twisted up in a triangle around her mouth as she started to speak. "I believe that you're Omar's friend, and I believe that you love him." She said.

    I nodded. "Yeah sure." I felt that my gesture wasn't enough to describe how important he was for me.

    "Omar has been suffering from tuberculosis for two months now. " she said, crossing her legs and slurping some tea from her mug. "The doctor says that we can't help him."

    I pushed the chair back with all my power that Omar shook in his trance at the sound of its collision with the wall. " can't help him?" I yelled at her. "Are you kidding? He's your grandson for god's sake. Do something."

    She remained silent and unaffected in her seat. " I can't do anything boy."

    " how, you can find him a cure or anything."

    " I guess that it's better for him to die. No cure will help him, the illness has seeped into his body a long time ago, and none of us can help him but God"

    God? I gazed for a moment at the ceiling where a fan whirred languidly overhead." Where's God when we need him?". I thought. Is he somewhere overhead, watching us live in anguish or he's busy making bad things happen to good people?

    "You can do nothing" She said, standing up and leading the way out of the room. " now out of this house. I don't want to see your scrawny face, but at Omar's funeral"

    "He'll not die" I screamed, kicking the chair once again that it landed on the other side of Omar's bed, broken.

    " out boy" She gripped me from the scruff of my shirt across the living room. I struggled like a helpless rat in her hands, but finally she threw me out, slamming the door and shaking the whole building.

    I went back home. My clothes remained kinky, and untidy. I didn't care for looking nice, I didn't care about telling father where I was, I didn't care about anything. Omar will die and I'll stay alone. The air seemed to be speaking sad litanies in my ears, as if telling me to begin mourning now.
    At home, Father opened the door for me. He frowned the moment he saw my expressionless face, and with one hand he gripped me from my shirt and threw me in.

    "where have you been all this time" . His chest puffed in and out as he walked towards me, getting ready for a punching session.

    I gave no heed to his words. I stood up and sauntered to my room. My head drooped to the ground, and my shoulders turned down like a drunken man.

    "I asked you where have you been." Father pulled me from my shoulder, turning me around like a carousel. "Why don't you reply?" . He slapped me twice on both cheeks.

    I focused into his hazel eyes, hoping that my eyes were sending him the message " hit me again. I don’t care". And actually they sent him the desirable message and he slapped me harder over my neck. "Where have you been?"

    I'm 17 and hope to know what u think of my writing.

    • ANSWER:
      Keep writing and don't ask other people if you should keep writing or not. Just do it if that's what you want to do. Just find one person, who has had his,or her work published and whose work you respect and admire and ask them to critique your work.
      Don't ask just anybody not even just any teacher, ask someone who has proven themselves to you by the way they respect your efforts and ideas. Don't pay anyone to do the critiquing for you because that doesn't work out either.
      Find a mentor. If you set your mind to finding a mentor then a way will open up for you but you have to set your mind to finding just the right mentor for you.

20. QUESTION:
    Do you enjoy this chapter?
    I spent the whole night sitting next to Omar on his bed. His nanny called the doctor, and some whispering took place between nanny and the doctor. They were cold, soft whispers. Whispers that shook me, and made me feel as if I might loose Omar, as if his baritone, warm voice would fade out of my life at any moment.

    Nanny came in hugging herself, with her usual, lifted head position then she sat down at her chair that stood against a small refrigerator.

    Her wrinkled skin twisted up in a triangle around her mouth as she started to speak. "I believe that you're Omar's friend, and I believe that you love him." She said.

    I nodded. "Yeah sure." I felt that my gesture wasn't enough to describe how important he was for me.

    "Omar has been suffering from tuberculosis for two months now. " she said, crossing her legs and slurping some tea from her mug. "The doctor says that we can't help him."

    I pushed the chair back with all my power that Omar shook in his trance at the sound of its collision with the wall. " can't help him?" I yelled at her. "Are you kidding? He's your grandson for god's sake. Do something."

    She remained silent and unaffected in her seat. " I can't do anything boy."

    " how, you can find him a cure or anything."

    " I guess that it's better for him to die. No cure will help him, the illness has seeped into his body a long time ago, and none of us can help him but God"

    God? I gazed for a moment at the ceiling where a fan whirred languidly overhead." Where's God when we need him?". I thought. Is he somewhere overhead, watching us live in anguish or he's busy making bad things happen to good people?

    "You can do nothing" She said, standing up and leading the way out of the room. " now out of this house. I don't want to see your scrawny face, but at Omar's funeral"

    "He'll not die" I screamed, kicking the chair once again that it landed on the other side of Omar's bed, broken.

    " out boy" She gripped me from the scruff of my shirt across the living room. I struggled like a helpless rat in her hands, but finally she threw me out, slamming the door and shaking the whole building.

    I went back home. My clothes remained kinky, and untidy. I didn't care for looking nice, I didn't care about telling father where I was, I didn't care about anything. Omar will die and I'll stay alone. The air seemed to be speaking sad litanies in my ears, as if telling me to begin mourning now.
    At home, Father opened the door for me. He frowned the moment he saw my expressionless face, and with one hand he gripped me from my shirt and threw me in.

    "where have you been all this time" . His chest puffed in and out as he walked towards me, getting ready for a punching session.

    I gave no heed to his words. I stood up and sauntered to my room. My head drooped to the ground, and my shoulders turned down like a drunken man.

    "I asked you where have you been." Father pulled me from my shoulder, turning me around like a carousel. "Why don't you reply?" . He slapped me twice on both cheeks.

    I focused into his hazel eyes, hoping that my eyes were sending him the message " hit me again. I don’t care". And actually they sent him the desirable message and he slapped me harder over my neck. "Where have you been?"

    I couldn't feel what was happening. The successive slaps and augmenting heat at my cheeks seemed like a part of a dream, a bad dream. But I knew I'd soon wake up.

    " Are you there God? "

    " can you hear me?"

    " Protect Omar. Don't kill him. Don't kill him please."

    Next morning, I opened my eyes at the voice of Mama calling my name. " A boy wants you out there Akram." . She sauntered back to the kitchen as I knifed off my bed and ran down the living room. God has fulfilled my prayer, Omar lost his illness and now he's here to tell me.

    I halted at the sight of the scrawny, short boy wearing a flimsy grey tee shirt that uncovered some of the scars at his chest. " Omar wants to talk to you" He said.

    " who are you" I asked him. " How do you know omar?"

    " I'm one of his friends" He said wheezing." Omar is dying"

    We ran together, on the way I knew that his name is Ali and he has been Omar's neighbor since Omar was 7.

    After climbing the wide stair case, where some cats dwelled at the corners, I rang the bell. My face seemed to cringe out of anxiety; I couldn't control myself. The door swung open and Nanny glared at me, holding a mug of pepper mint tea, and smiling thinly at us. " come in" she said " he's waiting for you"

    I followed Ali into Omar's room as Nanny turned on the TV and cuddled up at a stripped canapé.

    " I'm here" I sat to Omar's left side, and held up his warm hand.

    " is there's anyone here with us? " Omar asked opening his lids.

    " Yeah I'm here Omar" Ali said. " do you need anything?"

    "Sorry ALi" Omar said straightening his arm, and holding Ali's hand "can you leave us alone please; I need to tell Akram someth
    Although I felt a certain disappointment in Ali's eyes that swiveled to the wooden floor, still, I knew from his mirthful smile that he was ready to do anything for Omar, and he walked out of the room closing the door behind him.

    "How are you Akram?" Omar tightened his grasp over my hand, his muscles tautened up, a muffled scream emerged out of his mouth, then his muscles loosened up again over the bed.

    I knew the pain, I could see it in his eyes, and over his sweaty forehead where a couple of veins popped out, intersecting in an x shape under his skin.

    "I need to tell you something before I die." Omar said " I trust you Omar, and I know that you can prove this trust one last time"

    " I will do anything for you" I said, turning my head away from his deadly pale face, and swollen eyes.

    Omar placed his hand under his pillow where a brown spot stood in place of his head, and tugged out a folded piece of paper.

    "Take this" He said " take care of it Akram."

    " what's that? " I unfol
    sorry i'm unable to add the whole chapter........

    • ANSWER:
      That's really good. I wanted to keep reading which s what you want your readers to do.

      But I got confused. How old is Omar, Akram and Ali? I wasn't sure whether to imagine them as young kids, teenagers or young adults.

      but It is really really good. Keep working on it -thumbs up-

21. QUESTION:
    Do you enjoy my writing?
    Plzzz don't comment on grammar, and punctuation. I'm 17 and i'm developing my style, so try to give constructive criticism

    I spent the whole night sitting next to Omar on his bed. His nanny called the doctor, and some whispering took place between nanny and the doctor. They were cold, soft whispers. Whispers that shook me, and made me feel as if I might loose Omar, as if his baritone, warm voice would fade out of my life at any moment.

    Nanny came in hugging herself, with her usual, lifted head position then she sat down at her chair that stood against a small refrigerator.

    Her wrinkled skin twisted up in a triangle around her mouth as she started to speak. "I believe that you're Omar's friend, and I believe that you love him." She said.

    I nodded. "Yeah sure." I felt that my gesture wasn't enough to describe how important he was for me.

    "Omar has been suffering from tuberculosis for two months now. " she said, crossing her legs and slurping some tea from her mug. "The doctor says that we can't help him."

    I pushed the chair back with all my power that Omar shook in his trance at the sound of its collision with the wall. " can't help him?" I yelled at her. "Are you kidding? He's your grandson for god's sake. Do something."

    She remained silent and unaffected in her seat. " I can't do anything boy."

    " how, you can find him a cure or anything."

    " I guess that it's better for him to die. No cure will help him, the illness has seeped into his body a long time ago, and none of us can help him but God"

    God? I gazed for a moment at the ceiling where a fan whirred languidly overhead." Where's God when we need him?". I thought. Is he somewhere overhead, watching us live in anguish or he's busy making bad things happen to good people?

    "You can do nothing" She said, standing up and leading the way out of the room. " now out of this house. I don't want to see your scrawny face, but at Omar's funeral"

    "He'll not die" I screamed, kicking the chair once again that it landed on the other side of Omar's bed, broken.

    " out boy" She gripped me from the scruff of my shirt across the living room. I struggled like a helpless rat in her hands, but finally she threw me out, slamming the door and shaking the whole building.

    I went back home. My clothes remained kinky, and untidy. I didn't care for looking nice, I didn't care about telling father where I was, I didn't care about anything. Omar will die and I'll stay alone

    • ANSWER:
      I think its good. It could use a little more detail. And there is a looooooot of dialogue, which is good, but I think it could use maybe a little bit more things that aren't dialogue. (I can't think of the right word for it.)

      Glad you know the correct format for dialogue.(: lol.

      great job, I think you should keep writing.

22. QUESTION:
    Do you like my writing?
    I spent the whole night sitting next to Omar on his bed. His nanny called the doctor, and some whispering took place between nanny and the doctor. They were cold, soft whispers. Whispers that shook me, and made me feel as if I might loose Omar, as if his baritone, warm voice would fade out of my life at any moment.

    Nanny came in hugging herself, with her usual, lifted head position then she sat down at her chair that stood against a small refrigerator.

    Her wrinkled skin twisted up in a triangle around her mouth as she started to speak. "I believe that you're Omar's friend, and I believe that you love him." She said.

    I nodded. "Yeah sure." I felt that my gesture wasn't enough to describe how important he was for me.

    "Omar has been suffering from tuberculosis for two months now. " she said, crossing her legs and slurping some tea from her mug. "The doctor says that we can't help him."

    I pushed the chair back with all my power that Omar shook in his trance at the sound of its collision with the wall. " can't help him?" I yelled at her. "Are you kidding? He's your grandson for god's sake. Do something."

    She remained silent and unaffected in her seat. " I can't do anything boy."

    " how, you can find him a cure or anything."

    " I guess that it's better for him to die. No cure will help him, the illness has seeped into his body a long time ago, and none of us can help him but God"

    God? I gazed for a moment at the ceiling where a fan whirred languidly overhead." Where's God when we need him?". I thought. Is he somewhere overhead, watching us live in anguish or he's busy making bad things happen to good people?

    "You can do nothing" She said, standing up and leading the way out of the room. " now out of this house. I don't want to see your scrawny face, but at Omar's funeral"

    "He'll not die" I screamed, kicking the chair once again that it landed on the other side of Omar's bed, broken.

    " out boy" She gripped me from the scruff of my shirt across the living room. I struggled like a helpless rat in her hands, but finally she threw me out, slamming the door and shaking the whole building.

    I went back home. My clothes remained kinky, and untidy. I didn't care for looking nice, I didn't care about telling father where I was, I didn't care about anything. Omar will die and I'll stay alone.

    • ANSWER:
      Hopefully this is only an excerpt.

      The guy seems over emotional, and the story has some flaws. This friend of Omar's makes alot of trouble with HIM in the room trying to rest.

      I would think that a true friend would be more considerate. (But I really do not know the friend's background and story so I can't really say.)

      The first paragraph reads like some kind of cheap romance novel.

      The Grandma seems a bit defeatist. It is an interesting contrast to use with the friend's passion.

      I like what you do with your descriptions, the triangle thing was great.

      What you need is more show and not tell. "Omar has been suffering from tuberculosis for two months now." This line really weakens your story.

      Show us his suffering, through his actions, not by just telling us.

      gl.

23. QUESTION:
    Do you enjoy this short part of my book?
    I spent the whole night sitting next to Omar on his bed. His nanny called the doctor, and some whispering took place between nanny and the doctor. They were cold, soft whispers. Whispers that shook me, and made me feel as if I might loose Omar, as if his baritone, warm voice would fade out of my life at any moment.

    Nanny came in hugging herself, with her usual, lifted head position then she sat down at her chair that stood against a small refrigerator.

    Her wrinkled skin twisted up in a triangle around her mouth as she started to speak. "I believe that you're Omar's friend, and I believe that you love him." She said.

    I nodded. "Yeah sure." I felt that my gesture wasn't enough to describe how important he was for me.

    "Omar has been suffering from tuberculosis for two months now. " she said, crossing her legs and slurping some tea from her mug. "The doctor says that we can't help him."

    I pushed the chair back with all my power that Omar shook in his trance at the sound of its collision with the wall. " can't help him?" I yelled at her. "Are you kidding? He's your grandson for god's sake. Do something."

    She remained silent and unaffected in her seat. " I can't do anything boy."

    " how, you can find him a cure or anything."

    " I guess that it's better for him to die. No cure will help him, the illness has seeped into his body a long time ago, and none of us can help him but God"

    God? I gazed for a moment at the ceiling where a fan whirred languidly overhead." Where's God when we need him?". I thought. Is he somewhere overhead, watching us live in anguish or he's busy making bad things happen to good people?

    "You can do nothing" She said, standing up and leading the way out of the room. " now out of this house. I don't want to see your scrawny face, but at Omar's funeral"

    "He'll not die" I screamed, kicking the chair once again that it landed on the other side of Omar's bed, broken.

    " out boy" She gripped me from the scruff of my shirt across the living room. I struggled like a helpless rat in her hands, but finally she threw me out, slamming the door and shaking the whole building.

    I went back home. My clothes remained kinky, and untidy. I didn't care for looking nice, I didn't care about telling father where I was, I didn't care about anything. Omar will die and I'll stay alone. The air seemed to be speaking sad litanies in my ears, as if telling me to begin mourning now.

    • ANSWER:
      I LOVED IT! But one thing i suspect foul play....grandmother yelling at the boy? hmmmm,
      Answer mine by going to my profile and clicking on the first one about my book! but remeber spell check too people seem to critizie more when you forget it....

24. QUESTION:
    what are some things that emo, scene, or hipsters do not like or are interested in?
    I'm not trying to be mean in all but, my freshman year was pretty annoying last year like those kind of kids (scene,emo,hipster) they annoyed me because, they knew that I'm not a loud social person who want's attention because, i have aspergers and i don't like to be all over the place and i like having very few friends that are honest, don't make scenes,& can relate to what i've kinda been through. i'm not kidding all of those kids that are (emo,scene, or hipster) are popular and you know how they are. and why they are also annoying is because, almost about most of those girls either try to copy my hairstyle, clothes, or personality. they even either act like they admire me just for being shy (who would want to have social anxiety sorry girls but, it's not as fun as it looks) or having to make this blank/grumpy look to show that i can't be fooled or having some masculine features (shoe size 10, 7 in. long hands, large calves, biceps occasionally seen through jacket, and my voice box kinda sticks out) or they act like I'm actually in their jealousy war when i don't give a crap about the pretty/emo/dark boys since I'm more motivated about grades not dramatic romance besides why would i want to fall for fairy tales, I"M A TOMBOY! but, I'm still growing up. or they'll also try to act annoyed like trying to make that look "I'm more vampire than you!" O_o i don't even like vampires ALL THEY DO IS BITE THEN SUCK BLOOD *disgusting & people who like to be bitten must be masochist*, ACT ANTI-SOCIAL*how is that sweet?*, CLAIM TO BE DEAD JUST FOR BEING PALE *they probably just have insomnia and don't go outside much*, HAVING ETERNAL YOUTH *ever heard of wrinkle cream, steroids, hair die, & chemicals that cure baldness*& TRY TO BE CHARMING BY BEING POETIC *that just makes you sophisticated, but Elizabethan language sounds smarter* but, one of the main reasons i don't like how I'm interesting to trendy people like them is that those kind of people are like energy suckers.
    so what can i do to not be eye catching, to be uninteresting, to not look mystical to them *some of them talk to me like i'm an animal or stare at me just for having dark sleepy circles under my eyes*, and to look boring to them.

    • ANSWER:

25. QUESTION:
    Is Botox overrated?
    Botox is hailed by so many people but it doesn't even get rid of the wrinkles you have 100%, especially if they're deeper. Restyllane and other fillers are then used.

    Botox only works for mild to moderate wrinkles, in full, and can prevent them from getting worse, and weaken them, but it's not a cure all. Also it doesn't really hlep you look younger, it just takes those FEW wrinkles off, but you'll still look 50 if you're 50, you'll just look like a smoother 50.

    So then WHY on earth is Botox hailed as the best thing ever?

    It's really not going to work.

    What about your hands, legs, neck, hair, eyes, general looks, I mean Botox won't really turn back the clock at all.

    It doesn't turn back the clock.

    It just makes you look like a paralyzed version of yourself at your age.

    Why on earth people think that works is beyond me.

    Is Botox honestly overrated?

    • ANSWER:
      It really just depends on what you're looking for. Botox works great for some wrinkles, Restylane works great for others.

      The one thing that Botox is really good at is preventing wrinkles. If you get Botox treatments when you're younger you won't develop the wrinkles in the first place. It might not turn back the clock, but it can definitely stop the clock for a little while, at least.

      Here's some info on Botox if you're interested:

      http://www.botoxforum.com/info.htm

26. QUESTION:
    Serious and intelligent readers, please click and comment?
    14::19: MOM

    -The story of an obsolete sewing machine

    Chapter 1: The Parcel

    In the midst of conked-out machines it stood rusting in a corner. The room in the basement smelled of corrugated iron-pieces. The gale coated them with sand carried through the egress window opening out to the beach. To the dull eyes seeking confirmation of it’s assumption that everything is mundane- the sewing machine validated it. It was not so to the prying eyes of the old lady stooping over the barricade surrounding the window to get a closer look.

    The fat, khaki clad caretaker started beating his stick on the ground besides her. Startled, the old lady got up, though it was difficult to verify that she was standing because of her hunchback. Grey haired, wrinkled and with an air of authority all subdued by her serene smile, she remarked, “Bharatakaka! You gave me a start!” Taken aback himself, he grinned at his boss and spoke in a servile manner, “Memsahib! Such a pleasure to see you after all these years! Do you want anything- tea, coffee or water? How can I be helpful to my ever kind Memsahib?” Not one to waste time in pleasantries she got to point, “Bharatakaka, I want that sewing machine, the one in far corner to be parceled to this address.” She handed him the address and trotted, it seemed in the direction of the setting sun.

    It was of the last batch to be manufactured. It was the only one to come out of Batch No: 14::19:MOM.. Lone as in birth, it was alone in surviving, too. All the other machines were a wreck but this one was obsolete not because of having-sewed-it’s-way-to-the-fullest but due to external circumstances.

    The factory was isolated since the closure back in 1991 and all remained of it was a dilapidated old building. Liberalization, globalization and privatization of the industries were heralded world-over. Paradoxically, for Women’s Sewing Mill it meant instant death for the lack of even bleak future prospects. It was here that the sewing machines of finest qualities were not only -churned out but used, mended and revamped. No machine was ever discarded for it was continually upgraded but there’s always a first time and when it came it gulped the bulk of machines.

    “Women for self-employment:

    Magnetic our machines -

    We sew in an instant

    Fabric without a dent.

    So our glory shines;

    Only change is constant!”

    Change, indeed, is constant. For the sewing machines, the communion of the electronic sewing machine and the software industry was like trying to cure constipation by laxatives. The reformations and technology left the sewing machines, antiquated, a craft of another era. The last machine was rendered useless until this evening. Bharatakaka cleaned, gleaned, oiled, sealed and parceled it to the address given. As it was on its way he tweaked his mustache with a pride not felt in years- one felt on completing task entrusted by none other than his Memsahib.
    Memsahib - Female boss [in hindi]
    Bharata Kaka - An Indian name

    • ANSWER:
      Your style of writing is interesting

27. QUESTION:
    Is botox a miracle drug?
    Apart from wrinkle reduction it has also helped people with other problems

    http://www.abc.net.au/news/stories/2009/06/21/2603979.htm

    http://www.stophairlossnow.co.uk/News/Botox-May-Cure-Baldness-100989.html

    http://www.dailymail.co.uk/health/article-1134315/Health-news-Botox-ease-psoriasis-device-speed-fracture-recovery-prunes-ward-heart-disease.html

    http://www.dailymail.co.uk/health/article-1193260/Health-news-How-Botox-treat-diabetes-chocolate-good-Parkinsons-St-Johns-Wort-helps-cold-hands.html

    http://www.independent.co.uk/life-style/health-and-families/health-news/botox-could-treat-depression-1659431.html

    I find this amazing, what's your take?

    • ANSWER:
      i think its a bull shit drug
      my mum had loads done on her face and it only made hardly any difference

28. QUESTION:
    Your opinion matters... so will you comment on this?
    14::19: MOM
    -The story of an obsolete sewing machine

    Chapter 1: The Parcel

    In the midst of conked-out machines it stood rusting in a corner. The room in the basement smelled of corrugated iron-pieces. The gale coated them with sand carried through the egress window opening out to the beach. To the dull eyes seeking confirmation of it’s assumption that everything is mundane- the sewing machine validated it. It was not so to the prying eyes of the old lady stooping over the barricade surrounding the window to get a closer look.

    The fat, khaki clad caretaker started beating his stick on the ground besides her. Startled, the old lady got up, though it was difficult to verify that she was standing because of her hunchback. Grey haired, wrinkled and with an air of authority all subdued by her serene smile, she remarked, “Bharatakaka! You gave me a start!” Taken aback himself, he grinned at his boss and spoke in a servile manner, “Memsahib! Such a pleasure to see you after all these years! Do you want anything- tea, coffee or water? How can I be helpful to my ever kind Memsahib?” Not one to waste time in pleasantries she got to point, “Bharatakaka, I want that sewing machine, the one in far corner to be parceled to this address.” She handed him the address and trotted, it seemed in the direction of the setting sun.

    It was of the last batch to be manufactured. It was the only one to come out of Batch No: 14::19:MOM.. Lone as in birth, it was alone in surviving, too. All the other machines were a wreck but this one was obsolete not because of having-sewed-it’s-way-to-the-fullest but due to external circumstances.

    The factory was isolated since the closure back in 1991 and all remained of it was a dilapidated old building. Liberalization, globalization and privatization of the industries were heralded world-over. Paradoxically, for Women’s’ Sewing Mill it meant instant death for the lack of even bleak future prospects. It was here that the sewing machines of finest qualities were not only -churned out but used, mended and revamped. No machine was ever discarded for it was continually upgraded but there’s always a first time and when it came it gulped the bulk of machines.

    “Women for self-employment:
    Magnetic our machines -
    We sew in an instant
    Fabric without a dent.
    So our glory shines;
    Only change is constant!”

    Change, indeed, is constant. For the sewing machines, the communion of the electronic sewing machine and the software industry was like trying to cure constipation by laxatives. The reformations and technology left the sewing machines, antiquated, a craft of another era. The last machine was rendered useless until this evening. Bharatakaka cleaned, gleaned, oiled, sealed and parceled it to the address given. As it was on its way he tweaked his moustache with a pride not felt in years- one felt on completing task entrusted by none other than his Memsahib.

    ---

    Memsahib - Female boss in hindi
    Bharata - An Indian name
    LOL

    Okay

    • ANSWER:
      I actually liked the description. I thought it was just right. I also like your writing style. It was an interesting story and kept my captivated. Except, the last part is where I started getting confused: the paragraph when you start talking about how the factory has been isolated for a long time. That was confusing and also boring. It started out strong, though.

      having-sewed-it’s-way-to-the-fullest
      -- I dont' understand your use of the dashes in this bit.

29. QUESTION:
    please answer if you REALLY understand Fibromyalgia?
    I have real fms--and am active in research--have been bedridden--but have gotten back on my feet and work full time.....

    i have a friend claiming to have fibromyalgia also-but I am skeptical--as there is no way to know for sure--i do not challenge her belief (to her)..
    i just wonder to myself...

    but, I know I really have it--yet I don't make a big deal about it--
    she on teh other hand constantlyt talks about it..and how horrible her life is as a whole...

    43 year old female

    has been known to develop any many conditions she hears about (i call it a hearing disorder-she heasr it and gets sick--like teh see food diet--you see it and eat it)

    she thought she had cerebral palsy because her right side is dominant over her left (which is most people-except those who are ambidextrous)

    she thought she had a genetic disorder that is similar to autism and is characterized by acute hearing--able to CLEARLY make out sounds that most people hear as a mumble or distorted--because she can hear loud (mumbled) voices through the thin walls of our apartmemnt building..

    both of these are conditions people are born with--not generally get diagnosed with when they are middle aged (except on rare mild cases combined with bad doctors)

    I do believe as a preschooler she did have a medical problem that was medically corrected over a period of 2 years--during this time she got a lot of attention from her family and doctors...and learned that being sick gets you attention...

    told a doctor she works for that she thought she had fibromyalgia-claims he said she was right...but had previously told me that she had tested the tenderspots herself-even though she doesn't seem to know ewhere they are.

    i suspect that if you pressed anywhere--she would claim it was painful--not because it really is-but because she wants it to be.--it might be teh nromal mild pain a person would feel being poked--and she thinks it is abnormal.....

    was never tested/screened for other conditions

    works full time-45 hours a week
    walks the dog (sometimes throguh the woods) 3 hours on a workday, 5-8 hours on saturday/Sunday
    VOLUNATRILY sleeps 5 hours a night--stays up late talking on the phone/watching TV

    Voluntarily gets up at 4:30 am--to get to work by 9:30--she MUST iron her clothes in teh mornign (medical scrubs) as if she irons them at night and hangs tehm up-they will be too wrinkled in teh morning--MUST make her dog homemade food-and walk him at least an hour before work.....

    sleeps on a worn out mattres with a hole the dog dug in it (but that is not what is causing her back pain supposedly)

    goes to teh chiropracter and is miraculously cured for a few days--or takes an herbal supplement and feels great for a few days..

    has an active social life--socailized at least a few hours--often Saturday and Sunday--including a couple hours 1 day--and 6-8 hours another--
    this is in addition to walking teh dog and talkng on teh phoen and watching TV for hours....

    she is constantly going to various doctors for various tests/prococedures--but never talks about tehse doctors suggetsing any medical treatments..

    I have stopped answering my phone and even turn off my lights to make her think I am not home--

    she gives me an attitude because I can't do things and need to go to bed early..i'm tired of listening to her talk about how 'sick' she is -she will perseverate on it fro an hour or 2-even when I try to change the subject--

    I have tried telling her I want to go eat dinner when we are on teh phone--she ignores me-I try chewing loudly to send a message--but she droens on ond on--and doesn't notice.

    i can tell her I won a million dollarts and was giving her half--but she wouldn't notice beacuse she is so preoccupied thinking and talking about how sick she is.

    I know it is possible that she does have a real physical illness in additon to hypochondria--

    but I find it hard to believe--with everythign she does throguhout her day--beign on teh go for 18-19 hours---that she has fibromyalgia-

    i think she has normal pain and fatigue due to her lifestyle choices.

    I am just wonderign thsi for myself--i try to keep my distance-because she is a drain onme--

    if you are truly knowledgabel about fibromyalgia-
    what is your opinion-

    based on how she acts-do you think she has fibromyalgia???
    if you are otherwise healthy--and you kept her schedule-would you be tired and achy?
    and teh dog is constantly 'sick' too

    and is miraculously cured (temporarily)by a chiropractor or by a PARTIAL DOSE of antibiotics
    Heidi -you are INSULTING-

    fibromyalgia is a real disease-the cause is a disorder of the central nervous system--it does not regulate the neurotransmitters normally-
    i did not ask if Fibromylagia is a real disease---DO NOT waste your time answering that it is a fake disease.

    THE PAIN and EXHAUSTION CAN KEEP A PERSON IN BED_I WAS IN SUCH SEVERE PAIN I WOULD HAVE LET THE DOCS AMPUTATE MY LEGS..there are normal aches and pains-pain due to otehr conditions-and teh REAL pain of fibromyalgia

    the question yet again is

    BEING THAT FIBROMYALGIA IS A REAL DISEASE--
    DO YOU THINK THIS PERSON HAS THE REAL DISEASE FIBROMYLAGIA-

    or something else-psychosomatic pain, depression, hypochondria-normal lifestyle pain and fatigue
    HEIDI-i would report you for being insulting--but the report abuse system is a joke--they randomly pick answers as real or unsubstantiated abuse
    Justice would be if fibromylagia happened to people ike Heidi
    "sounds like she is doing well for herself"

    how did I give that impression-by saying she perseverates on how 'sick' she is and broods on her horrible life?

    • ANSWER:
      Fibromyalgia just means pain from unknown origin. Thus, this diagnosis is given out like candy. Fibromyalgia does not mean bedridden or disabled or anything like that. One may be in that predicament and have a Fibromyalgia diagnosis, but one may be completely healthy and just have chronic body aches, and also get that diagnosis. I would run as fast as you can from any doctor who gives you that diagnosis. On the Internet nowadays, you can find doctors and forums, etc. that know how to rid diagnoses such as Fibromyalgia. All symptoms have a cause, and for doctors to say "Here are some pain pills, you have Fibromyalgia", is just awful. Thus, do some research on the many causes of fibromyalgia and rid yourself of this affliction. As far as your friend goes, sounds like she is doing well for herself, so don't worry about her. Since you are struggling with your health, spend time on fixing you.

30. QUESTION:
    Do I get enough water?
    I've never been so fond of drinking water, not sure how it started but I've been avoiding it since I was really young. Any water I get in me is through food like soup, vegetables and juice. Is that enough? Okay sometimes I get really dizzy and it get fast cured by a little cup of water. Not sure if it effects my body but I'm really thin (drinking much milk, not coke), my skin a little uneven (dry and not dry) and my hands look wrinkled even though I'm not even 20 yet.

    • ANSWER:
      Our bodies need pure water regardless if its even from like Flavored water. Water purifies and hydrates, and replenishes. Its very good for your skin as well. I would say you could be dehydrated or getting there because our bodies do need water. I believe I would see a doctor about the wrinkling and so forth because not even being 20 and having wrinkles is pretty different so seek a Physician. Good Luck to you! Hope I was of help!!

31. QUESTION:
    Do I get enough water?
    I've never been so fond of drinking water, not sure how it started but I've been avoiding it since I was really young. Any water I get in me is through food like soup, vegetables and juice. Is that enough? Okay sometimes I get really dizzy and it get fast cured by a little cup of water. Not sure if it effects my body but I'm really thin (drinking much milk, not coke), my skin a little uneven (dry and not dry) and my hands look wrinkled even though I'm not even 20 yet.

    • ANSWER:
      Well, the average healthy dose is 11 cups for women and 14 for men. Basically, that's roughly 10 glasses.Soup is liquid itself, so it counts as a cup or so. If the juice is fresh (as in not powdered juice in water), it's half a cup or less.

      But it isn't an excuse to not drink. Tell you what; drink a glass of water every meal. That's 3. And every snacktime. That's 5. Plus every time you just feel thirsty...that's pretty much 7 glasses if you're an average person. Drink lots of soup, juice, and milk. That should get you through.

32. QUESTION:
    Do you enjoy my writing?
    plzzz don't comment on grammar, besides this is part of chapter nine so try to read it as a short story.

    I spent the whole night sitting next to Omar on his bed. His nanny called the doctor, and some whispering took place between nanny and the doctor. They were cold, soft whispers. Whispers that shook me, and made me feel as if I might loose Omar, as if his baritone, warm voice would fade out of my life at any moment.

    Nanny came in hugging herself, with her usual, lifted head position then she sat down at her chair that stood against a small refrigerator.

    Her wrinkled skin twisted up in a triangle around her mouth as she started to speak. "I believe that you're Omar's friend, and I believe that you love him." She said.

    I nodded. "Yeah sure." I felt that my gesture wasn't enough to describe how important he was for me.

    "Omar has been suffering from tuberculosis for two months now. " she said, crossing her legs and slurping some tea from her mug. "The doctor says that we can't help him."

    I pushed the chair back with all my power that Omar shook in his trance at the sound of its collision with the wall. " can't help him?" I yelled at her. "Are you kidding? He's your grandson for god's sake. Do something."

    She remained silent and unaffected in her seat. " I can't do anything boy."

    " how, you can find him a cure or anything."

    " I guess that it's better for him to die. No cure will help him, the illness has seeped into his body a long time ago, and none of us can help him but God"

    God? I gazed for a moment at the ceiling where a fan whirred languidly overhead." Where's God when we need him?". I thought. Is he somewhere overhead, watching us live in anguish or he's busy making bad things happen to good people?

    "You can do nothing" She said, standing up and leading the way out of the room. " now out of this house. I don't want to see your scrawny face, but at Omar's funeral"

    "He'll not die" I screamed, kicking the chair once again that it landed on the other side of Omar's bed, broken.

    " out boy" She gripped me from the scruff of my shirt across the living room. I struggled like a helpless rat in her hands, but finally she threw me out, slamming the door and shaking the whole building.

    I went back home. My clothes remained kinky, and untidy. I didn't care for looking nice, I didn't care about telling father where I was, I didn't care about anything. Omar will die and I'll stay alone

    • ANSWER:
      I read a lot and this kept my interest. Most fiction books that I read tend to take forever to build up the characters and plot. Sometimes it seems excruciating to read long enough.

      I liked the passion and tension.