#Pediatric Patients

[regenhealthsolutions]

SARS-CoV-2 Infection and New-Onset Type 2 Diabetes Among Pediatric Patients, 2020 to 2022

Risk of new diabetes diagnosis was higher compared with non-COVID respiratory infections Children and teens had an increased risk of being diagnosed with type 2 diabetes after COVID-19 infection, a retrospective cohort study of over 600,000 youth suggested. Adolescents 10 to 19 years old had a 55% higher risk for a new diagnosis of type 2 diabetes 1 month after a COVID diagnosis compared with…

[kids-worldfun]

How Infusion Pumps Help Children with At-Home Treatment

For children with severe conditions who need ongoing care, medical devices such as portable IV infusion pump can be a big help. These pumps safely and effectively deliver medications or nutrients. They do so continuously over a long period. This helps children manage their treatments at home, instead of in a hospital. Here’s how portable IV pumps are vital in at-home care for children, and…

[boulevardpharmaceuticalcompoun]

When it comes to children's health, ensuring they receive the proper medication can be challenging. That's where a compounding pharmacy in Boston, Massachusetts, plays a vital role. Compounding pharmacies specialize in creating customized medications tailored to meet the unique needs of pediatric patients. This service is essential for children who may have difficulty taking standard medications due to taste, allergies, or specific dosage requirements.

[wellhealthhub]

Type 2 Diabetes Once-a-Week Injection: A Revolutionary Breakthrough in Diabetes Management

Introduction Welcome, esteemed readers, to this all-encompassing and profound guide, a magnum opus exploring the groundbreaking, once-a-week injection for the management of Type 2 Diabetes. For those grappling with the pervasive impact of Type 2 Diabetes or those intimately associated with someone affected by this condition, the present article ardently endeavors to bestow upon you invaluable…

[lifelineems]

When it comes to the transportation of young patients, safety, comfort, and specialized care are of paramount importance. At Life Line EMS, we understand the unique needs of pediatric patients and have developed dedicated pediatric transportation services to cater to their requirements.

[faeriekit]

Health and Hybrids (XXX)👽👻💚

[I can't remember the original prompt posters  for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and the prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]

🖤Chapter navigation can be found here🖤 Click to browse previous updates.

💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts 💚 (now featuring mediocre mouseover translations, only available on a computer)

Where we last left off... Several therapeutic white boards were drawn on. Everyone reading was so good and normal about it. So were the characters, presumably.

Trigger warnings for this story:  body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) |  my nonexistent attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.

💚👻👽👻💚

Additionally: apologies to Adwen and Allmune on ao3, to whom I directly said I wouldn't do this; I lied. (Whoopsie).

Also additionally: Bonus fic snippet you may have missed

💚👻👽👻💚

“Are you hungry?” Danny’s new therapist asks, her fingers playing with her pen.

Danny shrugs.

Pretty quickly, they’d figured out that these sessions went…worse…when Danny was hungry. Hunger makes him upset. Being upset makes him want to speak less. Not talking ruins the whole affair.

“Want to talk?”

Danny shakes his head, and sprawls out onto the couch—he’s allowed to basically position himself however he feels comfortable in the room, and if he has a choice, he’d rather just hang out horizontal. Does it make getting back into his chair harder? Yes. Is there a lady with super strength right outside his the office door who is willing to pick him up at a moment’s notice? Also yes.

(It’s kind of silly, but, if his legs ever stop feeling so sore…Danny is. Well.)

(He’s kind of curious how tall he’d be if Diana held him piggyback.)

“Want to draw? Paint?”

Drawing is a high-stress activity. Danny tends to default to memories when he draws these days, and he’d rather not think about that right now. Finger-painting is another option, but it’s pretty messy…even if it would be fun…

Danny’s therapist (?) (he's pretty sure that’s what she is?) is a blonde woman, with a quiet face and piercing eyes. She’d probably be less intimidating if they knew each other’s language, if Danny’s being honest; usually these types of people try to talk their way out of being intimidating. Instead, Danny sits on her pinstripe couch in unbranded sweatpants and a thin white tee, and she wears a suitjacket over her tights.

It’s all very strange. It’s not more strange than his chaperone’s usual outfit of plate armor and tiara, but still.

“Want the language bócastréon again?”

…Danny hums in thought, hands crossed across his chest. He’s pretty sure they’ve tried building a thing that’ll detect his language, like, three different times by now, but every time it winds up like the Fenton Ghost Gabber: mindlessly repeating his words back to him, unable to make heads or tails on translation. At least these trials don’t end every one of his statements with I am a ghost, fear me.

Oh well. It’s better than nothing. Danny shrugs.

The therapist clicks the machine on from a switchpad at her elbow, and a blue holographic screen fills the air. Danny only spends a little bit of time batting at the display like a cat, watching the light play off his hands for his own amusement.

“Please begin,” the thing says, and the same text pops up on the screen.

“S’up,” Danny tells it, and grins when the little display starts its very, very, long, and very, very familiar, buffering process.

Danny already knows this isn’t going to work. He might as well have fun with it.

He talks about his day, he talks about his old bedroom; he talks about what he had for lunch, toying with one of the sucker-toys he woke up with ages ago even though he doesn’t know who gave them to him. He talks about his friends, because he loves them—not Tuck and Sam, who he’ll miss the rest of his life, but Mikey and Poindexter, and what school had been like for him. Quiet topics. Easy topics.

Normal topics.

…Danny isn’t’ sure he’ll ever have normalcy again, but…remembering it isn’t so bad either. He plays with his weird suction cup toy with both hands and he talks.

“…So I ended up getting stuck without the Speeder like a million zillion miles from the portal. I thought Jazz was going to kill me, since she needed it to take her girlfriend to prom the literal next night, so I had to run around for like forty minutes looking for someone to help me out— but at least Wulf was like ‘Ne estas problemo’ and he helped me sniff out the weird cheese Vlad had left in the center console of the Speeder the week before—“

The box beeps. “Lingvo identigita: Kryptonian.”

Danny bolts upright as fast as his limbs let him.

Danny was never as good as Tucker was with Esperanto, but—  But that’s Esperanto. Danny’s hung out with Wulf long enough, did enough Duodioma with the stupid little muppet bird mascot. The box didn’t call it the right thing, but—

—But—

The therapist looks at Danny, eyes wide. Danny can’t even look at her. He’s too busy staring at the discount-aisle Ghost Gabber.

“Diru ĝin denove,” Danny demands sharply. Say it again.

The screen automatically translates his words as he speaks—in Esperanto, and then into their own language, the two transcriptions populating side by side when Danny speaks.

At this point, the woman’s mouth is open. Danny would be right there with her, but—

Danny sits there, numb.

He has a language. A language that is mostly guesswork on his part and the occasional swears Wulf will teach him as a joke, but, still, a language.

A language made up by a doctor in Poland. In the eighteen…somethings. And these people with superpowers know it. And they know what it is.

And the therapist looks at him, stunned, with new eyes, as if she knows something new about him now.

…What the hell is Kryptonian?

*

There isn’t Kryptonian plural. Danny thought there there might be.

There isn’t.There is pretty much only one.

One. Singular. Kryptonian.

That feels worse, somehow.

*

Notes taken [DATE REDACTED] 2023, 22:37 UTC.

Participants are:

KE: Kal-El of Krypton, Codename: Superman. JD: Patient, John Doe, Codename: N/A. Patient file attached.

Note: Conversation was recorded in Kryptonian. Machine translation has been provided for convenience.

*Addendum: Yeah, I can get Jor-El on this, no problem –Supes

KE: This conversation will be recorded. Are you alright with that? JD: Conver…? KE: (Writing gesture) This talk. JD: Oh! Yes. KE: Good morning. My name is Kal-El, and I am of Kryptonian descent. On Earth, I serve as a protector. My title on Earth is Superman. JD: Superman? KE: Yes. JD: (Laugh) KE: Thank you. May I know your name? JD: (No answer) KE: Take your time. You may decline as well. JD: …I… (Pause). I do not… KE: That is alright. Do you have hobbies? JD: …What? KE: What do you like to do? JD: …I like to learn about space. I like to…when the fast child…we play games? KE: The fast kid? Impulse? JD: Impulse? (Incredulous) KE: That is his title, yes. JD: Why is his name Impulse? That is… Is that an insult? KE: I think he chose it? JD: (Stunned silence) KE: You like space? JD: Y…yes. KE: Tell me about it? JD: Do they not tell you about me? KE: I hear news. I have not met you face to face. JD: (Shrugs) KE: Not since you bit me, anyway? JD: I bit you? (Incredulous) KE: You were injured, and you were scared. I did not mind. JD: I am sorry! It was an accident! (Upset) I did not mean to! I do not remember— KE: It is alright, it is alright! (Placating) JD: (Cries) KE: Hey… (Touches shoulder) Oh, sorry. I should not do that. It is alright. My dog bit me yesterday, and my son bit me the day before. It is alright. You did not hurt me. JD: (Still crying, hard to decipher) You have a dog? KE: Yes! I have a dog! He is also from space. His name is Krypto. Here, I have pictures! (Takes out communicator)

*NOTE: pictures mentioned contain images of Superdog and Superboy(II)

JD: (Still crying) Are you supposed to ask me questions?? I have been here… I have been here for a long time. People want to know about what I am, and where am I from, and what I can do, yes? KE: Well…yes, but there is a lot of time. There is no limit. JD: (Wipes nose.) KE: All I am supposed to ask you today is if you have any allergies. See?

        *NOTE: List of potential allergens has been attached to patient file.

JD: (Takes list from KE) Allergi…? Oh. No. I am… No food makes me sick. I can eat all foods. I cannot take…there is a sick medicine. For a cough. I cannot take that. KE: Good to know! (Alarmed) I’ll tell your doctors. Do you like your doctors? JD: …Yes. (Shyly) They are nice. KE: Wonder Woman says that she already asked if you feel safe. Do you feel safe with your doctors? JD: I do. Everyone here is kind. I eat a lot. I get exercise. We play games. I take breaks. I see space. I do not worry here, unless I get scared by accident. KE: I am…very glad to hear that. (Chokes up.) My son is about half your height. If my son was far away, I would want someone to help him too. We only want to do our best for you, alright? Please tell us if something is wrong. JD: So I can fight? KE: Pardon? JD: I am meant to fight, right? KE: No, no—not fighting. Just healing. And resting. JD: And then after… I am supposed to fight? KE: No. No, not—you don’t have to fight. The only thing we need is for you to be healthy. We don’t need you to fight anyone. JD: Everyone wants me to fight. (Begins stimming with slime) There are many children here. They all fight. I am eventually going to have to fight. I know.

*NOTE: Slime was provided by Medical team for therapeutic use.

KE: (Pause) Who is everyone? JD: (Silence) KE: Did someone make you fight, before? Is that why you were injured? JD: (Silence) KE: I am sorry if they did. That is not fair. You are not an adult yet, and even adults should not have to fight unless they enlist purposefully. You are a child. JD: No one thinks I am a child. KE: Who said that? JD: (Silence) KE: Did someone hurt you? JD: (Pause) I do not want to talk. KE: Alright. Can you tell me why you do not want to talk? JD: (Silence) KE: Would you like to fight? JD: I am good at fighting. KE: That is not what I asked. JD: There is no choice? When there are bad things and bad people, someone has to fight. I am strong—when I am not injured, I am strong. I fight. There are people who are not strong, and cannot fight. I can fight. I fight. KE: (Silence) JD: This is why you are healing me. KE: (Pause) No, little one. That is not why. JD: (Pause) Oh. (Puts down slime) Am I…am I going to be data again? Are you going to test my body? KE: (Puts face into hands)

[PAGE 1 OF 4]

[Interview is to be reviewed by Black Canary and Dr. Pranathi Russo MD, Pediatric Psychologist.]

*

“It’s bad!” Clark says with a watery smile, because Clark isn’t Superman at the moment—in Bruce’s home office, as private as a place as the world can get, Bruce is only Bruce, and Clark is only Clark.

When Black Canary had suggested that their debrief happen somewhere private where Clark felt safe, Bruce had known that there would be bad news. Still, he pours a mug of coffee that Clark will metabolize all the caffeine out of anyway, and pours a long, thick cup of the stuff for himself, and settles back into his warm leather chair.

“Tell me,” Bruce says, not quite Batman, but not quite Bruce either.

“Bruce, he ‘knows’ we’re going to make him fight. He thinks we’re healing him to be a child soldier.” Clark’s laugh is half joke and half derision. Bruce thinks that he understands. “He thinks we’re keeping him here as—like property, where if we pick up something dumped on the side of the road, we can fix it back up and put it to work. Like an engine, or, or…or like a lawnmower. It’s awful.”

Bruce skips the creamer and goes straight to the Baileys beneath his desk for garnishing.

On the one hand, Dick has been flying out in Gotham since he was a preteen. There had been no question about training him; training was the way one kept their children safe, the same way that Alfred had taught Bruce how to shoot as a child—no matter how much Bruce had loathed it at the time.

On the other hand, Jason’s death plays out in his nightmares in technicolor around…once every few months.

The fires. The flames.

(The alien boy found in a wrecked vehicle outside the Kent farmhouse, curled up in fear.)

Bruce thinks about Damian, and how long it had taken for Damian to understand he could be loved as a child who loved animals, and not a future prince of Gotham.

…Bruce passes the Baileys to Clark.

The Kryptonian won’t absorb any of the alcohol in any meaningful way, but he dumps the remainder of the bottle into his coffee nevertheless.

[ley-med]

Guess who starts a new rotation tomorrow, in a different hospital. Guess who forgot it starts tomorrow, and not the day after tomorrow. Guess who left their stethoscope and stuff in their home hospital...

Pediatric ICU here I come. More or less prepared.

[syrusinthedust]

Just thinking about how Kim Whalen went from playing Becky Barnes, a kind pediatric nurse, to a literal eldritch deity in Cinderella’s Castle. And both are so her

[barisistill]

i have to go to the dentist next week and i #dontwantto

[wishingprince]

I think part of the reason my anxiety is so bad about work is because this client and the lady there who hates me treats me in ways I have been treated in the past in toxic or abusive situation. She makes shit up and then says it so confidently and meanly that I start to question my reality. She gets everyone around her convinced that I’m the problem.

The main reason why this situation is BETTER is that part of my job is notating EVERYTHING that has happened so at this point, I have receipts that are protecting me for through the bullshit.

But still, new people are getting involved and it’s their first inclination to believe this woman and take her side and think that I’m the problem all because she’s just SO fucking confident when she lies. My boss has to sit there and show the newcomers my receipts because she thinks she can just BLATANTLY make shit up to anyone new and control the narrative that way.

I’m SO relieved that I no longer will be working with them after all of this bullshit but I HATE that there is a tinge of “oh they’re getting removed from this work because THEYRE the problem” to a lot of the new people involved and it crushes me a little. I shouldn’t care what they think but they’re my coworkers and they’re going to have to rely on me in other situations and I just hate that they might question their trust in me because of the way this woman spins reality so much.

My boss and so so many other people have seen it through this entire year and THEY KNOW the truth and I need to mentally remind myself that they’re doing this because they’re worried about me quitting because of the way I’ve been treated, not because I failed. Ugh, it still FEELS like a failure but I have to let that go.

[huntquinlan]

every once and a while i remember the wing pregnancy plot and i vibrate with rage for a good minute. star wars revenge of the sith ass plot (derogatory). if she wanted to create drama around it, it shouldn’t have been the wings. it literally could have been anything but the wings. pregnancy is incredibly dangerous in general. elain could have had a vision of something going wrong. nyx simply could have been born prematurely due to the stress of feyre having to find out nesta was kidnapped and is stuck in a death tournament. or he could have just been premature. sometimes babies are. ugh.

[okaymeg]

a lot of nurses and I presume other clinicians avoid going into pediatrics because they don’t want to deal with parents, under the assumption that parents are overprotective, spoil their kid to the point of harm, are too critical of our performance as healthcare workers and providers, and to some extent this happens. but those parents can be reasoned with and fundamentally have the same goals as you as the nurse—they want the kid to be happy and healthy and not in pain. they’re on your side!! they want the same things you do and you can collaborate with them!!

what’s way harder for me to engage with are parents who veer the opposite way, who get mad at their kids for crying and being scared, who don’t provide the emotional support and comfort that kids need when hospitalized.

hospitalization sucks and even older kids can easily regress a lot out of fear and a new environment, ir makes me feel awful when parents reflexively scold their children when I come into the room because like I understand if they’re scared and it’s normal and I want them to know that their parents are going to keep them safe and be there for them. it doesn’t work if you are getting upset with them for being upset, it just escalates things!

[girlsdads]

if i could have one superpower i'd want to be fluent in every single language that exists on this planet... where i live has a high population of refugees and subsequently we get a lot of patients in the hospital who don't speak english, we have a really good medical interpreter service but i just wish i could speak every single language i want to be able to connect with the patients on that level it's so hard when there's a language barrier in a medical setting even when using an interpreter i'm afraid things are going to get lost in translation and i'm not going to be providing the best care i can because of it...

[softquietsteadylove]

Gosh your hospital AU is crazy sweet! Would you do another one? Just loved the idea and their dynamic!

Thena looks up from her charts, finding a protein bar wiggling its way into her view.

"Delivery for a Miss--no, Doctor Thena?"

Thena smiles, no matter how much she doesn't feel like it. Because Gil can always get her to smile, even after she's pulled an 18 hour shift to cover for absentee residents, handled some truly uncooperative patients and just wants to sleep face down on the floor.

"How you holdin' up?" he whispers, sitting himself next to her on the on-call bunk bed. He slips his hands back into his hoodie pockets as she accepts and unwraps the snack (white chocolate and cranberry: her favourite).

"Better now," she promises, sighing as she chews. She flaps around the paper copies of her charts that need signing off on, "I miss Ajak."

The nurse who did indeed keep things running smoothly had only gotten off shift an hour and a half ago.

"These are all done, though, right?" he guessed, peeking at them in her tight little fist. "You're just signing off on discharges?"

"Yeah," she sighed, sagging on the bed even heavier. "I'm just about done. Just this last little stretch always kills me."

"Yeah, last run is always the hardest," Gil sympathises, and she knows he knows exactly what they mean by it. He pulls the papers from her hand before she can abuse them further.

"How was your day?" Thena asks, although she pauses in her chewing just to yawn.

"Pretty quiet, actually," he smiles, although really he's making sure she finishes the whole protein bar. "Kingo spent most the run making tiktoks, so..."

Thena gulps down her bite and laughs. Gil feels at least a little bit better at hearing the magical sound.

"I know you're dying to get home, but maybe a little power nap wouldn't hurt before you get behind the wheel of any sort of vehicle."

"I know, I know," she groans, taking another bite of power bar as he takes her stethoscope from around her neck and even pulls out her ponytail for her. She moans even louder as he massages her head, relieving the tension that has become subconsciously ingrained into her at this point.

Gil pulls her to lean against him, wrapping his arm around her and trying to, as subtly as possible, get his other arm out of the sleeve so he can secure it entirely over her shoulders as a blanket. "They need to assign more interns to this place."

Thena shrugs, already leaning quite heavily on him as the warmth of him permeates her tired bones and the smell of him on his hoodie lulls her into relaxation. "They don't come down here to learn trauma care, they come here when they need extra cash."

Gil just rolls his eyes. Thena works herself to the bone, seeing everyone from people who have very normal reasons to come in and just can't make it to clinics because of their work schedules, to very real and urgent traumatic emergencies. And she and Ajak get so little thanks for it.

Thena is actively and visibly drifting off, turning her face into his bicep as she makes her self more comfortable against him. "What about you? When are you off?"

Gil is technically off duty now, also supposed to be heading home. But he's here because he asked Ajak if Thena was heading out too, only to learn that she was fulfilling the last of her 18 hours. And he would be damned if he trusted her to take proper care of herself when she was exhausted.

And he certainly wasn't going to let anyone else take care of her in his place, either.

"Gil?" Thena asks again, although she wraps both of her arms around his one, as if he's her own personal teddy bear.

"I'm off too," he whispers, leaning his head against hers as she dozes off against him, sitting up and wrapped in his work hoodie over her scrubs.

But she's sleeping, and it's all he wanted when he came in here.

The door opens and one of the interns - either very early or extremely late - pokes their head in. "Um, is Doctor Thena-"

"Get out," Gil glares at them, utterly remorseless for the harsh treatment. His eyes burn a hole in them, "quietly."

They do so, pulling the door closed for him as quietly as humanly possible.

The trauma surgeon from upstairs will be coming down any minute to take over for her anyway. And Gil is ready to sit up with Thena for as long as she stays asleep. He'll carry her to her car and drive her home if he has to.

Although part of him wants to stay here and let her hold onto his arm like this forever.

Thena mumbles in her sleep, and Gil smiles. She denies it every time he brings it up to her, but she's a sleep talker--mumbles out anything from patient charts to what she wants to eat when she wakes up. It's an oddly cute habit for the Goddess of War to have, which is why she denies it so vehemently.

Gil kisses her forehead, "go home?"

"Home," she sighs in agreement, still holding onto him. She's very deserving of her next 24 hours off, he thinks.

She won't like it--she'll be mortified if she thinks about the interns seeing it. But Gil knows what has to be done. He tries to pull his arm out of her grasp, only for her to whine at him faintly. He laughs under his breath. "I'm gonna take you home, honey."

Gil manages to extract his arm so he can pick her up bridal style, bundling her up in his arms so he can grab her backpack on the way. He does take a route that's not out the main entrance to the ER, for the sake of Thena's pride.

He carries her out the ambulance bay doors, heading for his car to drive her home. The paramedics getting ready for their first run of the day wave to him. He nods his head, and they seem to understand that he has cargo far too precious to risk waking.

[iii-days-grace]

not actually sure, i do think he gets vamped at some point in his story. atm i think he's human, but still ~special in some way.

still have coffee and Beverages on the brain (which vampires can also enjoy because it's from a living plant). coffee is irl magic for everyone though, ha.

the gift shop and auxiliary services are run by little old ladies and helpful odd folk from the community, like in real life. they too are more likely to be strange and magical, so the cafe is run by like, coffee witches:P

not all witches are vampires, but undead medical arts and witchcraft are both herbal heavy so they overlap a lot, haha. vampires are nocturnal by nature but they're also just caffeine addicts.

jim's connection to the undead and magical world is probably somewhere through here. that stuff is probably not a huuuge secret, but most of the story is from the undead perspective anyway so this is a human-eye view (initially, at least).

though either way he could always be a witch for Halloween with the geck as his familiar!

@ims0vain