#Please pray for all kidney patients | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

skippyv20 · 1 year

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Our Prayer List 🙏🏻❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend whose family is going through many things…and all while she is preparing for her daughter’s wedding. This is a very stressful time for all.

Prayers and good thoughts to our friend recovering from surgery on her foot and is still not able to walk.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s brother who has had knee surgery but is in much pain. He is restless and feeling depressed.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s family member who will be joining AA. We pray for success. Prayers and good thoughts for our friend who is feeling unloved. We pray she feels the love we have for her from around the world.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s husband who had surgery today. It was successful, now we pray for a quick recovery. Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s family.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend NZ. Her country NZ was hit hard by a cyclone, and extreme flooding recently.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s patient Sissa who has third-degree breast cancer.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend who is in financial despair. She is really struggling as she has no one to turn to in real life. She is out of work, and there are no jobs to be found. All of her savings are almost gone and she is afraid she may lose her home.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend who is having surgery next week after a 4 year battle with chronic pain brought upon by a medical malpractice procedure. She is very nervous. She can’t even remember what it is like to live without pain daily.

Prayers and good thoughts for Brian. He is doing well after surgery.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend who is appealing her disability payments claim, which was denied. She is still waiting for that to end. This is affecting her financially & physically with worsening migraines. Her BIL had surgery and is recovering. Her sister has been very stressed.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s husband who has not been well.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend who has severe iron deficiency and the treatment is very harsh and makes her sick. Her husband has been unfaithful during her illness and her family is ignoring me. She feels very alone.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s brother in Spain. Prayers they work, and prayers for his partner. His recovery is coming along slowly. There is still concern about infection but doctors are keeping a close eye on it. Our friend is very appreciative for the ongoing prayers for her beloved brother.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend who suffered from sciatica. The sciatica has resolved itself now, but she has 4 ruptured disks, 2 of which are torn. They have done a laser ablation of the nerves in her upper lumbar region which helped some. Also, she has had several epidurals in her lower lumbar & sacroilliac joints but that hasn't helped. She has an appointment with a neurosurgeon on the 14th.

Prayer and good thoughts for our friend’s newborn grandson who was admitted to the NICU yesterday with a Group B Strep infection. Baby Elliott was intubated last night and placed on a ventilator. Please pray for him, his parents, and his grandmother.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s beloved nephew, Norbert. He is heartbroken after a breakup and is depressed.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend who is going through a very difficult time. Her husband is divorcing her after 33 years. After the first hearing, the judge is having him give her so little that she will have no place she can afford to live, while he has already gotten himself a new house. She fears her attorney is firing her due to how emotional she is. The day after the first hearing she had to go to the hospital for kidney failure, she has stage 4 heart failure, a tumor in her lung and leg. Please pray for judge to rule in her favour.

Prayers and good thoughts our friend’s brother in law. He has severe heart failure and he had colon cancer removed last nov. He must get chemo to be put on heart life saving machine but heart is too weak for chemo. This is his 3rd week in the hospital and the prognosis is he might live a couple months. Prayers and good thoughts for our friend who has been battling depression long-term due to trauma and the resulting difficult circumstances.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s little boy who will be going through treatment for speech impediment. We pray for his quick success.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s father who has been diagnosed with early stage dementia.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s son-in-law’s mother. She has cancer in her spine, leg and lung. She will be having surgery on her spine. This woman raised 4 boys by herself, her now 23 year old son is severely autistic and needs 24/7 care, which his mom has provided him his entire life. She is only 64 years old, a wonderful person, warm, loving and very independent. My heart breaks for her. Please also pray for my son in law - he is in the Navy, fortunately stationed only a few hours from his mom. He has power of attorney for his mom and his brother’s care - he has some very difficult and no doubt heart wrenching decisions to make.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s friend whom was diagnosed with a rare form of cancer called Myelodysplastic Syndrome, or MDS is now in remission. She is still doing chemo and is still waiting for the bone marrow transplant.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s daughter who is struggling. She is in much pain mentally. We prayer for her family as well as they try desperately to help her.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend who is battling an undiagnosed mental illness which led to decisions with consequences. Praying for her to stay strong in faith, for her family issues to be resolved. Also, for her to be free of financial hardship.

Prayers and good thoughts for Baby James and his heart brother Matthew. Also their heart brother Conrad

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invisibleraven · 1 year

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It's not what you lost, it's what you gained

Written for the Year of the OTP challenge prompt: No, I'm not dating your brother

Pairing: Julie/Luke/Reggie

On AO3!

Man, took long enough for me to get to my OT3 with this series huh?

Reggie has a brother when it's plot convenient, so I'm using my OC Alfie because no parents who name their first child Reginald are going with the name Steve for their second.

Hand waving any medical inaccuracies, and please enjoy!

Alfie is on his way to class when his phone rings and he almost ignores it. This final review is paramount to him passing this Chemistry class, and he’s running late as it is. But it’s an LA area code, so he reluctantly swipes to answer it.

“Mr. Peters? This LA County General. We have your brother Reginald here as a patient…”

The rest of the words are eaten up by the rush in Alfie’s ears as the fear rushes through him. The thought of Reggie, lying alone and broken in some hospital bed, he can’t even think about it. He thanks the nice nurse and books the first flight he can back home, rapidly throwing things in a duffel bag. Screw classes, screw his finals, his brother is more important than anything.

He’s sure Reggie would disagree, having slaved away at a million dead end jobs to afford Alfie’s tuition, but the man had practically raised him when their parents failed to be present, and then fought to be his legal guardian the second he turned eighteen. Alfie owed him the world. So it was off to LA, hoping and praying that he wasn’t going to be too late.

He doesn’t remember much of the flight or the cab ride from the airport, only that it seems to take forever. He hasn’t missed California traffic, nor the intense heat, part of him longing for his cool Portland spring, but at least he had the sense to pack a few lighter shirts in his bag, pulling one on as the taxi rounds the bend to the hospital. He’s sure he overtips as he all but shoves bills at the cabbie, but he doesn’t care, he barely remembers to take his bag as he rushes to the front desk.

“Hi, I got a call about my brother? Reggie Peters? Can you tell me where he is?” he asks at the front desk. The woman purses her lips but nods, typing into her computer, and with each clack of the keys he prays she isn’t about to tell him he’s too late or that he can’t see Reggie after all this.

“Fourth floor, room 450. Follow the yellow line to the elevators, then the blue line once you’re up there. Visiting hours are over at 9.”

Alfie nods in thanks and quickly locates where he’supposed to go, heart pounding as he finds the elevator, jamming repeatedly on the button, as if that had ever made them go faster. He’s tapping his feet and is just about to give up and find a stairwell when the doors open and he enters, pressing the 4 harshly in hopes it will hurry things along. The mindless music is grating, but Alfie’s brain is too full of thoughts to even register it.

He knows Reggie was in a car accident, had multiple fractures and a concussion. There had been some worry about a bruise to his kidney, and they had already done a surgery to clean up some internal bleeding. The prognosis was good, but Reggie had yet to wake up.

That’s what worried Alfie the most.

What if he didn’t wake up? What if he woke up and didn’t remember anything? Remember Alfie? What if he woke up and he was all alone and scared?

His thought spiral was interrupted by the doors opening, and Alfie frantically looked around for the blue line, finally locating it and counting off the numbers of the rooms as he went. 415, 423, 437… 450!

The door was partially open, and Alfie peered in, not wanting to interrupt if a doctor was seeing Reggie. But no, instead he saw people on either side of Reggie, a Latina woman with dark curly hair who is clutching his left hand, and a guy with shaggy chestnut hair on his right, hand on Reggie’s shoulder since that arm is in a sling.

Alfie has no clue who either of them are.

Look, between his classes and Reggie’s jobs, they haven’t had a chance to catch up lately okay? But still, these people seem to be very concerned for his brother, and neither of them are in scrubs, so that rules out medical professionals. “Hello?” he calls out and they both look up at him with wide, red rimmed eyes.

“Oh, you must be Alfie,” the woman says. “You look just like your pictures.”

“I am,” he says. “Who are you?”

“I’m Julie, this is Luke. Reggie is our best friend.”

“Jules-” Luke starts, but she waves him off. Alfie can question all that later, and how close the two of them could possibly be to Reggie when he can’t recall either of their names being mentioned. But they were here, and maybe they had answers that the doctors wouldn’t give.

“How is he-really?” Alfie asks as he looks over Reggie. Aside from the arm in the sling, he can see his left leg in a cast, bruises littering his exposed skin, a collar around his neck and a plethora of machines whirring and beeping away.

“He’s tough,” Luke says, “But he got pretty beat up. The other driver was drunk, plowed through a red light, he’s equally messed up, but his family is covering Reggie’s care, since he was at fault.”

“Well that’s a relief,” Alfie said as he took Julie’s spot, grasping Reggie’s hand tight. “I’m here bro, I’m here.”

Reggie’s pulse is there below his fingers, and Alfie finally felt the tension flood from his body. Yes, Reggie is bruised and broken, and there is a hard road ahead of him in terms of rehabilitation, but he’s still there. Alfie just needs him to wake up now, smile that crooked grin of his and lambast him for taking time off from school when he’s perfectly fine.

He looks up, seeing Luke and Julie still there, Julie standing beside Luke’s chair, pushing Reggie’s hair from his face.

“Thank you both for being here for him,” Alfie says quietly. “I would hate to think he was here alone.”

“Of course,” Luke replies. “He’d do it for either of us.”

“It was the least we could do for him,” Julie finishes, sending Reggie a fond look. A look that Alfie had only seen in movies, in fairy tales really. It’s the look of someone who genuinely loves the person they’re looking at, in the deepest way you could love someone. He hadn’t had much experience with it in his own life, but he still knows it when he sees it.

“Are you dating my brother?” Alfie asks. Julie and Luke exchange a worried look, and Alfie doesn’t know what to make of that. “It’s just… he never talks about himself. He tells me this and that, but he’s never mentioned either of you, and if it’s new that’s fine, but I need to know.”

“No, I’m not dating your brother,” Julie finally answers. “We… we both wanted to. Took forever to convince him we loved him like that.”

Alfie got that. After their parents it had taken years and lots of therapy for him to believe that he could be lovable to anyone, so it stands to reason that Reggie would also have a harder time believing anyone could want him. Or that romantic love could be anything but toxic. So no wonder he had a harder time convincing himself that two people could want him like that.

Luke reaches up and squeezes Julie’s hand on his shoulder. “But we finally did. He was driving to our first date when he got in the accident.”

“It’s not your fault,” Alfie says, as if that will assuage the guilt they’re surely feeling. “He might have been out getting groceries or going to work, the fault is with the guy who decided to get behind the wheel drunk.”

“I just wish it had never happened,” Julie says with a sniffle.

Luke gathers her into his arms at that, soothing her. “Sssh, it’s okay boss. We’ll be here for him the whole time right? Take him to every appointment, help him with whatever he needs help with. He’ll be sick of us by the end of it right?”

“Right,” Julie says wetly, giving Luke a weak smile.

“You two don’t have to do that,” Alfie says.

“Of course we do,” Luke says. “We love Reggie. He’s our whole world. And he’d kill us for letting you take more time off of school just to take care of him.”

“He’s so proud of you,” Julie adds. “Always going on about his genius baby brother and how he’s going to change the world.”

Alfie looks down at Reggie’s sleeping face. “He really talks about me?”

“All the time,” Luke promises. “I think he was waiting until after our date to tell you about us though.”

“Don’t hold it against him for keeping it secret, not everyone understands polyamory,” Julie says.

“I could never-Reggie is the greatest guy there is,” Alfie says, wiping away a tear. “I don’t care who he loves, or how many people. His heart is big enough to hold the whole world, I’m just happy he found people who realize it.”

Julie and Luke smile at him, and then they all look at Reggie, willing him to wake up. But he stays stationary, the machines still beeping and whirring around them. They sit there, getting to know one another as time goes on. A nurse reminds them about the end of visiting hours, but none of them move.

None of them want Reggie to be alone.

Finally it ticks over to 9, and another nurse gives them a stern glare, the three of them exiting the room, each promising to be back the next day. Alfie looks away as Luke and Julie press kisses to Reggie’s face. Then they invite him to stay at their place, or a ride to Reggie’s, if he wants. He decides to stay at his brother’s, and is shocked by the tiny studio apartment. There’s a cherry red bass in the corner, plants on every surface, and a dog dish in the corner. “Dolly is with my dad until Reggie can come home,” Julie says.

Alfie can see the walls covered in photos; shots of Reggie and the pit bull mix he’d adopted after finding her hurt on the beach during a lifeguarding gig, pictures of him playing his bass alongside Luke and a blonde guy playing drums while Julie is singing behind a piano.

“We’re in a band together,” Luke explains. “Julie and the Phantoms.”

“Tell your friends,” Julie says, though the phrase makes her a little melancholy.

There’s a bunch of shots of Alfie, and he almost cries when he sees the one of him and Reggie at his graduation, beaming faces smiling wide as MeeMaw took the shot. Plus another with her hugging them both tight that he touches reverently. God, he needs to call her in the morning, she’s in a home now after breaking her hip one too many times, but she’s still in full capacity of her senses.

“We already called Chavala,” Julie says. “She made us promise to take good care of you both.”

“Thank you,” Alfie says. Wonders how much more of Reggie’s life he’s missed out on, if even their grandmother knows about Luke and Julie when he’s been in the dark.

But the evidence is there, staring him in the face, because the bulk of the photos are of Luke and Julie themselves. Some alone, some together, a great deal more with Reggie. They look so happy together, all smiles and lovelorn expressions. Without going on a single date, if he looked at these photos, he would have assumed they had been together for years.

“The fridge is stocked, but if you need anything, you can call us,” Luke says, writing down their numbers on a piece of paper. “We’ll pop by in the morning, we can all go in and see him tomorrow.”

Alfie nods, and sees them out, but when he crawls into bed that night, he breaks down in tears, relieved that Reggie’s alive, but mourning the lost time between them. He sleeps restlessly, and barely manages a bowl of cereal before Luke and Julie show up. They chatter mindlessly as they drive towards the hospital, but all conversation ends once there, all of them silently waiting for Reggie to make some sign of consciousness.

But he’s just as still as he was the day prior. Alfie takes the time to email all his teachers, letting them know where he is, and most of them get back to him giving him extensions. Not the terrible Professor Martinez for Chem of course, but one email to the dean has him excused until he gets back. The doctor comes in to do a few more tests, so the three of them go to get something to eat.

“I hope you guys aren’t missing too much work for this,” Alfie says as he picks at his salad.

Luke and Julie exchange a look. “Um, the band is our job,” Luke finally says. “Our demo is doing really well, and we just got picked up by a label. The night we got signed is the night we told Reggie how we felt.”

“But Reggie…”

“Reggie works at the animal shelter because he likes it,” Julie says with a giggle. “Our friend Willie is covering for him. He quit all the other part time gigs once the band started taking off and our merch sales more than made up for it.”

Once again, Alfie aches inside, thinking back to every conversation that he’s had with Reggie over the past little while. He goes on and on about his classes, his friends, the cute guy who’d asked him out. That had led to Alfie finally coming out to Reggie who laughed and told him he didn’t care, and hell, he was bi, so he couldn’t say shit. That had been months ago though.

Reggie never told him squat about his own life though, sticking to his job walking dogs or serving coffee. He never mentions his friends, or his band, or the people he loves. He always demurred, like he thought Alfie wouldn’t be interested, and Alfie realizes he stopped pressing ages ago, not wanting to fight if Reggie didn’t want to be known. He silently curses their parents for screwing them up so royally, and vows then and there to be a better brother, to push more.

He just prays he gets the chance.

When they get back to the room, the doctor pulls Alfie aside. “His brain is active, the swelling is gone, and we’re going to remove the breathing tube. I’m hopeful that he’ll wake soon.”

Reggie does look a little better when they enter the room, the tubes and wires greatly reduced, and the bruises are starting to fade, just a little. But he still doesn’t wake up. Alfie squeezes his hand tight. “Come on Reginald, wake up. I’ll be so mad if you don’t.”

“Come back to us cariño,” Julie whispers, pressing a kiss to Reggie’s face.

“We have a date to get to, you can’t sleep through that bud,” Luke jokes. “And you know Willie can’t play bass for shit.”

“Maybe we should sing to him,” Julie jokes back.

“My acoustic is in the trunk,” Luke perks up at the suggestion and when Julie sends him a look, he shrugs. “You know I don’t go anywhere without a guitar!”

“Go get it,” Alfie says. “I’m willing to try anything.”

Luke dashes out and returns a few moments later with his guitar, beaming as he sits back down, nodding at Julie who starts tapping out a beat on her thighs, which Alfie clumsily copies. Reggie’s the one who got all the musical talent between them, he’s practically tone deaf, but he can follow this a little.

“Can you, can you hear me?” Julie sings softly.

“Loud and clear!” Luke sings back.

“Gotta get, we gotta get ready.”

“Cause it’s been years!”

“That's my song,” comes a creaking voice from the bed and three pairs of eyes fly to where Reggie is blinking up at them. “Hey darlin’, babe. Was going on?”

“Reggie!” Julie cries, hugging him as much as she’s able. “Dios mio, never scare us like that again!”

“I’ll try not to sweetheart,” Reggie replies, though his voice is more of a croak than anything. “As soon as you tell me what I did.”

“You got in a bad car accident hun,” Luke says, bringing his free hand up to press a kiss to the knuckles. “Had us worried sick.”

“Sorry,” Reggie replies, licking over his dry lips. Then he turns his head and sees his brother. “Alf, what the heck are you doing here? You have finals!”

“You’re more important dummy,” Alfie says, swiping the tears from his eyes as he chuckles. “And we need to have a long talk about you not telling me stuff.”

Reggie flushes, looking at the couple beside him who nod and vacate the room. “I meant to tell you, I just… you know how it is, I never think my stuff is all that important. You’re in college, going to change the world one day. I’m just…”

“A future rock star with two pretty damn good partners?” Alfie finishes for him. “Reggie I wouldn’t care if you were just sitting in your sweats playing MarioKart all day, I still wanna know about your life. It’s important to me, because you are important to me.”

Reggie sniffles, and lets out a little okay. “We’re not dating, you know. Not yet.”

“Bud they’ve been by your side since you got here, safe to say that you are,” Alfie replies.

“I love them.”

“Good, because they love you too. And I approve, so we’re golden.”

“So… how’s life?” Reggie asks.

Alfie barks out a laugh and the two of them spend the next hour catching up, only interrupted by doctors doing some tests and Luke bringing them food while Julie gets Reggie’s care instructions from the nurses.

Reggie finally convinces Alfie to go home the next day, he’s in good hands, but promises to call him every night. “If not, I will,” Julie vows.

So Alfie goes home, aces that Chem final-take that Professor Martinez! And he’s back in LA for when Reggie can play his bass again, smiling and bouncing all over the stage at Julie and the Phantoms first gig since he got his casts off.

And Alfie shouts louder than anyone when Luke and Julie kiss his cheeks during their bow, all three of them smiling wide, looking happier than he has ever seen his brother.

And a year later, he’s happily standing at Reggie’s side as his best man as the three of them have a commitment ceremony that beats any wedding Alfie’s ever been to. But Alfie’s favourite moment is when Regige picks him to dance with during the family dances, and they boogey away on the floor. Sure, he wishes that Reggie never had the accident that led to this, but a part of him will forever be grateful that he and his brother are closer than ever. He soon returns Reggie to Luke and Julie’s arms, and smiles at the three of them swaying together.

He doesn't even care that Reggie is leaving the Peters name behind, because Luke and Julie's families have adopted them both as their own, and Alfie is half convinced that if he was a few years younger, Victoria Alvarez would be fighting to be his mom for real. So surrounded by his new family, and his brother looking ecstatic with his spouses by his side, Alfie has no complaints about the road that led them here. Yeah, this was alright by him.

#my stuff #writing #fanfic #rukebox #peterpatterlina #otp 2023 #year of the otp #julie and the phantoms

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aesign108 · 7 months

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Hello, I'm from Gaza city because of the war, my house was destroyed. We lost everything, my family and I did not have anything left. we left our homes in search of a safe place and we were displaced three times to different places to survive, but unfortunately there's no safe place in Gaza. my mother is very sick and she's a kidney failure patient in need of treatment outside. she suffers from LS. Help me and my family to survive. Please, your small donation can make a huge difference. A friend outside Gaza has come in to help me run the donation program so that my mother can be evacuated.

i'm really so so sorry i don't have money but i will blog this! do you have a link for the donation?

i really have no money at all i'm so sorry i wish i could help; i pray for your safety in these horrible times

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archangel-zadkiel · 7 months

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Hello, I'm from Gaza City because of the war,my house was destroyed. We lost everything,my family and I did not have anything left. We left our homes in search of a safe place and we were displaced three times to different places to survive, but unfortunately there's no safe place in Gaza. My mother is very sick and she's a kidney failure patient in need of treatment outside. She suffers from LS. Help me and my family to survive. Please, your small donation can make a huge difference. A friend outside Gaza has come in to help me run the donation program so that my mother can be evacuated

Unfortunately I havent any money to donate. All I am currently able to do is spread awareness. If you link me to the specific donation page or make one and send it to me so I can share it thatd be cool. I have a few followers that might be able to help. Praying for you and yours :(

Edit: Reblogged the donation page for you my friend!

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rachbabe6-blog · 2 years

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Morning update on Keith.

Update 11/2/2021

I called the hospital. His oxygen is at 78-80 prone with full settings on all machines. His kidneys are still good. His ph and CO2 is still bad but a tiny bit better than earlier. They gave him a unit of blood and cooled it in the Ecmo to help with his fever. He's at his limits on everything though. They had a meeting to discuss plan of actions if certain things happened with him through the night.

They flip Keith back over at 8 am. I can see him after the flip and talk to his doctors. I know things are stacked against him. I just want him to pull through. Some patients really do well with the flip others decline rapidly. I'll be there for my son.

Getting to the hospital really early.

PLEASE KEEP PRAYING FOR KEITH

KEEP FIGHTING KEITH

#prayforkeith #keithstrong

#keithwisecup #covid #covid covidloss #covidloss

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cesabutterflywrites · 3 years

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The Duke of the Bay: Part 8

[Spotify Playlist] [Youtube Playlist]

First Part, Ao3 Link, Next Part (Coming Soon)

Story Warnings: Guns, threats, alcohol, violence homosexual slang used pejoratively and positively, internalized homophobia, ask me to add any if need be

Chapter Warnings: This is a heavy chapter. Violence is only implied, but the implications have a heavy impact. Read with caution.

Chapter Word Count: 3839

Summary: Patton O’Hearty was a great detective. Most people didn’t take him for one at first glance, especially when he dressed casual. He was abnormally chipper; he thought everything was the cat’s pajamas. He had a smile for everyone he met. He was always tipping his hat at the dames and gents when he walked the streets of the Bay Area.

The only person he could never catch was the leader of the planted mob in Emeryville, nicknamed The Duke. The Duke was good at hiding his dealings and joints well, and he rarely had a snitch in his ranks. The few who tried, well, somehow they disappeared before they could give the police any substantial information. He was well hidden, but popular among the residents of the town. People talked boldly of his rambunctious parties, never revealing the locations though. He was hard to catch, to say the least.

So what happens, when instead, the detective is the one that’s caught?

The dawn came as it always did- a soft gray and orange haze streaking in with the marine layer over the water of the San Francisco Bay. Roman de Rossi had a lovely view of it from his family mansion on San Pablo Avenue. A mansion that felt too big lately, with too high of a price to keep.

Roman rolled over to get out of bed when he bumped into something hard and stiff. His heart skipped a beat when he heard his wife cry out.

“Jeeze, Ro, trying to be the first at the breakfast table again?” Rosalie’s voice was gruff. She rubbed the spot on her back where Roman had bumped. “I already got one slugger goin’ for my kidneys.”

Roman rolled his eyes, though he was relieved he hadn’t hurt Rosalie. “Rose, why aren’t you in your bed?”

“Because I needed the warmth and comfort of my husband.” she mumbled sarcastically into her pillow, already on her way back to sleep.

All exhausted bitterness left him at the sound of her snores. At the beginning of their marriage it had been incredibly overbearing for him-to the point they shared separate beds- but with the rising threat of the gangs, he never knew when he’d see the last of his wife. After yesterday, there wasn’t even a certainty that he’d make it to see the birth of his twins.

Carefully, with a hesitation that seemed to become all-too-familiar, he rested his hand on Rosalie’s belly that was under his blanket. Rosalie hummed in response, but kept her eyes closed still. Roman tried to feel for any movement from the twins, but they didn’t. He tried to think that it was because they were also sleeping. It had nothing to do with the fact that every time he tried to feel for their movement he would get nothing. He ignored the tightness in his throat, he disregarded the burning tears, and prayed to God silently that he would make it through this trying time long enough to at least hold his children once.

The thought was an unwelcome intrusion since that fateful telegram from the Duke’s right hand man two months before. Shoving the bitter memory of that message aside, he got himself ready in the dark with a swiftness, already wanting the day to be done. He couldn’t tell whether his need to stay home was due to his anxieties of being a father, his weariness of having more caseloads of rising crime, or his paranoia about criminal eyes spying on him. He watched his large wife turn about in her sleep as he dressed; she was unable to find a comfortable position. He couldn't blame her. Something he wished he’d have considered before the pregnancy was getting a large family bed so they could share it. Even if she snored like a boozed up bear.

A lock of her thick black hair fell out of it’s wrap and was caught in the light from the hallway behind him. Her lips were pushed out in a half pout, half pucker. The gown she was wearing was a large blue cotton dress with flowing sleeves. Her eyes were closed, not restful, but crinkled under her worried brows. Her face had gotten wider in her pregnancy. Her cheeks were flushed with red with elevated temperature from the warm room. She moved her hand to hold under her head as she laid on her side, facing Roman and the door.

She was beautiful, and Roman took this moment to appreciate her beauty, for he didn't know if this was the last time he would see her. He’d never know from now on.

"I can feel ya starin', darling husband," her teasing tone was muffled by the pillow and her sleepiness. "Get to work so I can sleep."

He quietly leaned over her, just as he always did, and kissed her.

He’d never know that his tired wife had noticed the despair in the extra moments their lips were met.

“Send for someone right away if anything happens, alright dear?” he asked while brushing a stray curl aside.

“Sure thing honey…”

His walk to work was dim in the early morning as the fog was thick as wool. The only light guiding his way was a soft orange desperately clinging to the lampposts. The fog was dense with the promise of the coming autumn season for next month. It wasn’t smart of him to have left so early. There was no one on the street. No vagrants, no Jezebels, and no wayward orphans. Just him, the mist, and the sound of his shoes on moist stones. Still, just because he couldn't see anyone, it didn't mean that he didn't feel like he was being watched with eyes capable of seeing through all sorts of darkness.

It was soon enough in his hurry that he made it to the precinct. He ran his hand through his somewhat damp hair as he took his hat off at the entrance. He was early, earlier than normal, and the shift-changing deputies milling about by the entrance desk stood up straighter when they saw him.

“Hey, Cap’n. How’s the missus? Ready to burst just yet?” the old man at the desk asked. His name was Reggie, and if you called him a secretary you’d get a busted lip. He was the nicest-and oldest- member of the force.

“Oh, she’s fine. Doc says it’s gonna be any day now ‘til they’re here. I think she’s more excited than I am for it to be over. She’s been complaining about her feet being so swollen she can barely stand,” Roman laughed. The use of the word ‘complain’ was only polite. Rosalie’s ‘complaints’ about her pregnancy would make sailors blush.

Reggie guffawed. “Yeah, I remember when Ethel had her first. She was cursing so bad near the end you’d think she was a drunken sailor in a brig!”

“Women have a way with words, don’t they Reg?” Roman commented as he made his way around the desk. He wasn’t really waiting for an answer as he kept walking away.

Reggie must have been in a nice mood, since he didn’t point out the Captain’s distracted behavior as he walked off. Roman appreciated that. He was already in deep enough trouble with his reputation as a younger force captain.

Roman was grateful that he was going to be able to take some leave soon. He didn’t like being away from his pregnant wife all day. Especially now, with everything so changed. He sat down in his rolling chair with the force of a thousand anvils. He opened the folder on his desk, knowing there’d be no change in it since the last time he filled it a month ago with the ‘tip’ Logan and Patton got.

Case Number: 103625 - Open - “The Duke”

He sighed to himself as a heavy headache formed behind his eyes. It was a new day, which meant new trouble, which meant he seriously needed some coffee. He reached for his announcer when-

“Captain, there’s a visitor here for ya.” A fresh faced rookie announced while walking into the office. His voice was a bit too anxious-to-please for the captain’s liking in the morning .

Roman’s voice imitated distant thunder - a warning, a looming threat - “Haven’t you heard of knocking, boy?”

The young man was smart enough to appear embarrassed. “I apologize, sir.” He stood at attention as he had been trained to do. His badge gleamed in the light of the office as his chest puffed out.

Roman felt guilty for snapping at him. He didn’t want to be an angry, bitter leader, like his predecessor. Or like his father had been. Those old men were so hardened by stress that they felt no regard for those beneath them. He refused to be that way, no matter what. So he forced his body to relax as he imagined the darkness in his heart being swept under the new rug of his office.

“I understand. I was a rookie like you once upon a time. What seems to be the trouble?” Roman forced a smile on his face, as though it was drying cement to keep in place.

“You’ve got a guy saying he’s here for a meeting, a...Mr. Doris? Fella has a scar right here on his face." The officer took his finger and motioned on his face as an indicator of his description. Obviously the young man’s mind was wandering to stories about the nastiest criminals known to man.

Roman nodded, cleared his throat, then told him, "Bring him in."

The young officer disappeared, and in one breath the enemy had walked through the office door as if he owned the place. Roman sighed in defeat. It wasn’t ‘as if’ he owned the place, it was that he practically did. Especially now that the detectives weren’t ever going to ‘catch’ the bad guys like they should have ages ago.

“What brings you in so early, Mr. Doris?” Roman asked. He stood up, smoothed down his tie, and held his hand out to shake his visitor’s gloved hand.

The visitor smirked. “I like the new you, Roman. Straight to the punch without any frivolous small talk. Such a change from the last time we had spoken.”

The memory sat between them. A smoked out room, sweaty foreheads, two guns between two young men, a kiss- a stalemate.

Roman gulped down the anxious sensation and forced himself to speak. “Well, I haven’t had any coffee yet, so I’m not feeling patient enough for chit chat.”

Mr. Doris’ laughter sent chills down Roman’s spine. His voice was dry and raspy, like a lizard. “I see. Well, the good news is that your two lead detectives are good at their jobs.” He slammed his fist down onto the desk as his eyes peered into Roman’s. “The bad news is, they’re so good at their job, even you don’t control them anymore.”

“That’s not true!” Roman exploded. The force of his anger pushed him out of his seat so he was practically nose to nose with his guest. “I just suspended Logan Smith for admitting he’s working with one of your men! Detective O’Hearty is too personable to be focused on investigating your precious boss! Hell, he’s probably going to be too busy sidetracked into chasing wild geese from that stunt Logan pulled. And another thing-”

“That’s enough, Roman.” Mr. Doris covered Roman’s mouth with one of his gloved hands. “You’ve told me all I needed to know.”

It’s too easy to play you, dear Roman, Doris thought to himself. I knew something was up with Virgil Vitale. He couldn’t keep the grin off of his face at the thought of finally teaching the little punk a lesson.

Roman shook the hand off of his mouth. His breath was shaky. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, I won’t tell you, dear,” Mr. Doris hummed. He walked to the doorway without any explanation. It was time to take business into his own hands after all. No more time to waste. “I’ve gotta run. Say hi to the missus for me.” He looked over his shoulder to make sure the unspoken threat hit its target.

Roman was left standing in that position. His hands wouldn’t stop shaking. His hair laid out of control around his face, his heart pounding, and the sense of impending doom- as if he just sentenced an innocent man to death.

----------

Alice woke up to the sound of the radio downstairs playing some German concerto. It was a slow morning for once. She hummed to herself, pleased that she was able to wake up slowly to beautiful music as opposed to the sound of harsh knocking at her door. Yet as she turned over in bed her peace was interrupted by the brightness of the sun shining through the window. She groaned at the disruption to her dreamy haze.

Alice hefted herself out of the large bed and made herself to the large vanity-much nicer than the one at her apartment- and started working on her hair. Once she was done making sure she looked presentable she made her way down the grand staircase to meet Logan wherever he was at. Which, knowing how large the house was, meant that it could be a proper while before she would find him.

The smell of sizzled meat wafted through the large hallways. Instead of looking for Logan, she decided to make her way towards the dining room from the night before. It’s rude to check in and hover over a cook’s shoulder, she reckoned. No matter how curious it was to her that Logan didn’t have any help at all.

The moment she sat down she heard the door from the kitchen open. Logan was pushing a dining cart forward on his own. He had a white rag placed over his shoulder and a stained white apron tied around his waist. He was whistling an unfamiliar tune to himself as he set out the platters in front of Alice. She couldn’t help but laugh. She was enjoying this bright version of the detective.

“What’s the occasion, detective?” Alice asked once he sat down with her.

Logan struggled to hide a sheepish grin, “It’s just been a long while since I’ve had any sort of company over. I don’t get to go out much with my line of work.”

“Aw, didn’t wanna bring any wayward souls home for Christmas?” she teased.

Logan rolled his eyes at her. It was good that he was loosening up around her humor. Alice wondered if she could get away with cursing around him yet, but decided not to push her luck, given that they had a long day ahead of them.

“It’s gotta be more than me, come on.” Alice waggled her eyebrows at him. “What’s with the shift in the wind?”

Logan ignored her prompts. Instead, he lowered his head. Alice rushed to set her fork down so she could follow suit.

“Father God, I ask that you bless this food and those who consume it. We thank you for providing for us. We ask for you to sustain our spirits as well as our bodies. I ask that you help us in all of our endeavors today, and I thank you for bringing me someone to share this meal with. Thank you for providing me such youthful company. Amen.”

“Amen.” Alice echoed. She tried to keep her questions to herself. Logan’s prayer wasn’t one she had ever heard before.

Alice lifted the cover to reveal her breakfast. There was sausage, eggs, and toast with powdered sugar. It smelled amazing.

“Thank you, Logan, this looks delicious.” She immediately went for the eggs. It had been so long since she’d had eggs for breakfast. Not since she left her farm home nearly two years ago.

They sat at the table with only the sounds of the radio in the living room occasionally drifting in through the doors. Alice was enjoying her meal so much, she jumped when she heard the fancy telephone in the hallway ringing.

“Excuse me, Alice.” Logan muttered. He wiped his hands on his apron and swiftly walked on his long legs to the hallway.

It was irritating, being called in the morning. Especially when his meal was being interrupted. He lifted the earpiece off of the ringing box and greeted the operator quickly. Who would be calling him now that he’s suspended?

“Logan? Is this Logan Smith?” a partially familiar feminine voice asked over the receiver.

“Yes. Who is this?”

Her words were spoken in rushes with pauses sounding like heavy breathing. “It’s Rosalie...Rosalie de Rossi.-” she took in a deep breath ”-I’m your captain’s wife!” After that she let out a bone-chilling moan.

The captain’s wife? He had only met her once at the Independence Day party at the Captain’s new mansion. Why was she calling someone like him?

The woman on the line hissed. “God fucking dammit! It hurts!”

“What hurts? What’s wrong? Where are you?” Logan threw his questions at her quickly as he reached for his notepad.

“My my,” a slick, whiskey smooth, masculine voice answered. He tutted. “Not very clever, Detective Smith.”

“Where is Mrs. de Rossi?” Logan asked. He felt as if the air around him was heavier. There was a weight settling into his chest. He ignored the familiar sensations and made a note that someone else had taken the line.

“She’s still alive. And she will stay that way, if you do everything I ask.” The man’s words were drawn out. Almost as if he were bored, or stalling.

“What do you want?” Logan hissed. The million questions he had were shoved aside when the man answered.

“I want your lover, Detective. Bring that filthy, grimy, Italian punk to the fisherman’s market in San Francisco after dark. Or I’ll just have to do something to your boss’ beautiful broodmare.” The voice chuckled at his sick comment.

This man was evil. The most evil he'd ever come across. Logan felt like he was going to topple over. “What makes you think I’ll come alone? That I won’t go straight to the captain?”

Laughter as dark as water at midnight bled through the receiver. “Oh Mr. Smith, that’s what I want. Give me a reason to pluck those sweet babies out of his missus.”

Logan heard a scream in the background. A string of curse words that he didn’t doubt were justified.

“Please don’t hurt her. Be reasonable. Why did you call me? I’m on suspension, I don’t have access to the resources-”

“Because your lover's family declared war, my boy!” the man roared. Logan identified his accent-Irish, or Scottish perhaps. “I’m going to get what I need outta him. So lock your brunette bitch away, grab your buddy and your faggot, and get your ass to my docks when the sun sets. Or-” another blood curdling scream from the woman in the background “-the captain’s dear wife and her babies drown.”

Just like that, the phone call ended. Logan didn’t have time to stand in the shock. Instinctive training responses immediately took over his body. He didn’t go back to the dining room and instead ran to get himself dressed. No other thoughts intruded. His head was empty of everything other than the fact that he needed backup.

He needed Patton. He needed to gather his resources. It was still nine in the morning. He had maybe eight hours before it was sunset, then two hours to cross the bay into San Francisco to the fisherman’s market. His mind was fixated on trying to create the quickest itinerary possible and how to notify the captain without the mysterious caller knowing. He seemed to know much more than Logan was comfortable with.

Logan was tying his shoes as he thought. He hadn’t told anyone about the night with Virgil. No one knew. He figured Alice may have suspected, but she hadn’t been able to talk to anyone. Not that she would. She was just a kid. She was just caught up in all of this business out of desperation and survival. Alice was just a pawn in a twisted game. She wasn’t a main player.

Patton was too wrapped up in his obsession with the Duke to even notice. Still, he was very angry towards Logan now that he knew Virgil was involved. Who knows what the captain and Patton talked about after Logan was dismissed. He remembered the knowing look at the Lion’s Den last month. His partner said then that he accepted everybody. Could he have been saying that to blend in?

Then there was the fact that this was the captain’s wife. Why kidnap her to get to Logan? He didn’t know the woman at all, only that the captain loved her very much. She was pregnant when they had met, and from the sound of the call she still was.

“Logan, where are you going?” Alice asked from the doorway of his bedroom.

“There’s an emergency. I need to go.” He pushed himself past her and rushed down the staircase. “Please stay here. Don’t leave.”

“Will Virgil be back to nanny me again?” she asked indignantly.

The question struck him through the heart. He couldn’t leave her unattended. She was defenseless here. The Duke's men could come looking for her. No doubt one of them was behind this in the first place as a way to distract them.

“No. No, I-” he turned to her. “There’s trouble. I need to move you somewhere safer. You can’t be alone.”

Alice’s face seemed to grow ten years older. “I understand. Let’s go.”

They both grabbed their hats from the hook and walked out the door. Logan made his way to his car without another word. Alice felt in her gut that they were running into something more dangerous than she had ever known.

“Where are we going?” Alice asked after climbing into the carriage seat. Logan saw that she had withdrawn into herself. The silly child that he was starting to get introduced to had left her body.

“To Patton’s. I don’t think he’ll have left yet. We need his help.” Logan pulled out onto the street. “I’ll tell you on the way.”

Before the pair had shown up to Patton’s house, he had just drank his coffee. He didn’t need to go into the station today. All of his caseloads were closed except for one. Today was a day of regrouping and hitting the pavement. It was time for some good old fashioned talking to people again. The best way to find someone was to ask their friends or neighbors politely. Give them a smile and such.

He took his time getting ready. Trying to find the man that he used to be before this craziness started. The man who was able to walk down the street with faith in his heart. The detective who could solve everything with the right words someone needed to hear. That man was nowhere to be found as he pulled clothes from his closet.

It was a new day. He knew he would make progress today. No one was going to get the drop on him again.

When he sat down in his armchair his eye was caught on something on the end table. A piece of paper that didn’t seem to be from any of his notepads. It wasn’t there when he had gone to bed the night before.

A familiar delicious thrill rushed through his body. Part of him thought to call on the locksmith soon, though it might not do much good. Carefully, as if the note were an explosive and not a simple message, he lifted the paper.

It was no simple message.

You’re in danger, dear detective. There are worse evils than I. Don’t do what your colleague asks. Come to me at the Lion’s Den instead. -The Duke

Before he had time to react, there was rapid knocking at his door.

A/N:

Hello there! It's been nearly a year. There's a reason for that.

I work very, very hard when it comes to my stories. This one has a very important place in my heart. I had to take a break from it because the last thing I wanted to do was make rush decisions or half-ass everything.

In doing so, it meant that I had to wait until I had the time to give it the attention it deserves. I recently had a lot of my life change this past year, mostly losing loved ones. So this fic didn't get much of it's deserved time at once.

That being said, I swear this has a direction. While a lot of it is up to interpretation, this has a very direct sequence of events. That's why it's important for me to be able to pay extra attention.

That being said, I'm making a new normal. This fic goal is to be updated every 3 months, maybe less. My practice is to edit 3 times at least before I post.

Let me know what you thought of this chapter. Tell me your theories about what will happen next! I love talking about this story with anyone who will listen.

taglist: @deceits-left-glove

let me know if you want to be on the taglist for this or any other ship/story

check my pinned tumblr post for more of my work

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sohotthateveryonedied · 4 years

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I’ll Make a Million Mistakes

Read here on AO3!

Summary:

“Don’t worry,” Dick says, throwing his arm around Duke’s shoulders. “Everyone in this room has had their teeth knocked out at one point or another. It’s a rite of passage around here.”

“I don’t know how to tell you thith, but that doethn’t happen to normal people. We acthually prefer to keep our teeth, believe it or not.”

“Wait until you get your first major battle scar. Trust me, they’re cool.”

“Y’all need Jethuth.”

Bruce likes to think of himself as a patient man. Even more, he’d like to think it’s a trait he earned all on his own, but anyone who’s met him would testify that he inherited his patience from the man who raised him, and Bruce would have to agree. This level of restraint he possesses is an acquired skill—one that is reserved for the world’s best butlers and for fathers of six. Karen from the PTA wishes she were on Bruce’s level. His exceedingly calm temperament is the only reason Bruce doesn’t melt into a puddle on the ground now, his bones turning into a milky froth because Jesus fucking Christ, hasn’t he had a hard enough night as it is? No person should have to spend two hours solving riddles because Eddie was feeling manic tonight and then be forced to come home to human children. Duke smiles around a mouthful of bloody gauze. “In my defenth, I’ve never even had a cavity before.” “No, you just got your tooth knocked out.” “Teeth.” “What?” “Ith acthually teeth, plural. I lotht two of them.” Bruce facepalms. “Goddamn it.” He ignores the giggles from his other kids, all of whom apparently decided they needed to be present for this conversation. He’s picking his battles tonight.

“Ith not my fault!” Duke points over at Tim, standing against the Batcave’s wall minding his own business. “Ith hith fault.” “It is not. Bruce, don’t listen to him.” “Oh, yeah? Who knocked me into the railing in the firtht plathe?” “That was Jason’s fault. He’s the one who threw the football.” “Actually,” Jason chimes in, “that was Cass. I was an innocent bystander.” “Liar,” Cass says. “Don’t call me a liar.” “Liar.” “You’re the liar. She’s framing me, Bruce, I swear to god. I’ve never done anything wrong to my siblings in my entire life.” Dick makes a spluttering noise. “You once threw a pineapple at my head because I was breathing too loudly!” “And I don’t regret it one bit.” Bruce sighs. He doesn’t have the energy for this. He gently grasps Duke’s chin, being mindful of his sore jaw. “Where?” Duke pulls out the wad of gauze and opens his mouth wide. He points at the space where his front tooth used to be, then a canine on the bottom left which now consists of half a white shard. “Ith thith one and thith one.” Bruce hums. “I can get you a dentist appointment tomorrow afternoon. They’ll put a couple of caps in and you’ll be good as new.” He’ll have to rearrange a few things in his schedule. At least now he has a valid excuse to skip racquetball with Clark. There is no logical reason a bumpkin from Kansas should be better at racquetball than Bruce is, there just isn’t. “Tho my thmile ithn’t permanently ruined? Thath a relief. Thethe babieth are my betht feature,” he says, all the while bloody saliva dribbles from his lip like a deranged vampire. Best feature, definitely. “Don’t worry,” Dick says, throwing his arm around Duke’s shoulders. “Everyone in this room has had their teeth knocked out at one point or another. It’s a rite of passage around here.” “I don’t know how to tell you thith, but that doethn’t happen to normal people. We acthually prefer to keep our teeth, believe it or not.” “Wait until you get your first major battle scar. Trust me, they’re cool.” “Y’all need Jethuth.” “At least it’ll make for a good story one day,” Tim says. “Everyone loves scar stories.” Jason snorts. “People actually like death stories more, but go off I guess.” “Nobody cares that you died, Jay. Find new material.” “You want new material? Check this out.” Jason tugs down the collar of his sweater. He shows off the mostly-faded autopsy scar sliced up his torso and to his shoulders. Bruce winces. Dick yawns. “So? You got autopsied. Big whoop. Scars don’t count if you’re dead when you get them.” He tips his head down, parts a section of his hair with his fingers to show off the fresh scar on his scalp. “Talk to me when you get shot in the head.” Tim rolls his eyes. “You realize how stupid this is, right? We shouldn’t be arguing about who has the worst bodily trauma.” “Why,” Jason says, “because you know you’d lose?” “Because I’ve got you both beat.” He pulls up his t-shirt to display the surgical scar on his abdomen. “Missing spleen. Beat that.” “I lost a kidney. Kidney trumps spleen any day.” Cass rolls up the leg of her shorts to show off her bullet-riddled thigh. “Connect the dots. I win.” “But have you lost a vital organ?” Tim asks. “No.” “Spleens aren’t that vital,” Dick says. “Fuck off, at least you still have one.” “I would prefer to keep my organth,” Duke says. “Juth thaying.” “And you will,” Bruce assures him. “Probably.” “Probably?” “Look, I’m tired. We’re all tired. Can we schedule the scar contest for a later time when I’m hopefully not here to witness it?” Maybe he can ask Alfred to drug his tea from now on. At least then he can rest easy in a drug-induced slumber, knowing all the while that he’s missing the kind of petty arguments no parent should have to hear. “No one said you had to be here,” Dick says. “Anyway, Bane once slammed me against a wall and now my hip throbs when it rains.” “At least your wrist doesn’t click when you move it at the right angle.” Jason shakes his wrist next to Tim’s ear. Tim cringes. “You’re all amateurs,” a new voice says, and Bruce wants to die. Damian and Stephanie appear to have returned from patrol, still in their uniforms. “Try having your entire spine replaced.” Tim wrinkles his nose. “Great, it’s time to hear Damian talk about how much better than us he is. My favorite activity.” “Shut up, Drake. You’ve never experienced pain.” “I got blown up once! I still have burn scars all over my neck and shoulders!” “Eh. I’ve had worse.” Steph grins and holds up her left hand, just happy to be included. (Note to self: ponder whether Stephanie is secretly a golden retriever in human form.) “I have no feeling in these three fingers.” She pokes them to demonstrate. “And should I mention that I was tortured by Black Mask once? No? Because power tools were involved, in case anyone was wondering.” “Do I need to reiterate that I once died in an explosion?” “Jason. Little wing. I’m begging you to shut up about your death.” Cass points to a spot on her ribcage. “Two ribs made of metal. Got shattered during a fight. Four years old.” “My dad used to burn me with cigarettes every time I was bad, so...seven times a week, more or less.” “Oh, same!” Jason and Steph high-five. “My grandfather broke my arm in two places when I made a mistake during a training drill. He made me fight assassins for three hours straight afterward without so much as an ice pack.” Duke looks horrified. “Are you guyth okay?” “No offense, but none of you should talk unless you’ve gone through childbirth.” Stephanie rolls up the top portion of her Batgirl suit just enough to show off the scar across her lower belly. “You think getting blown up is hard? Try spending three hours in labor and having a baby ripped out of you. That’s hard.” Jason wipes away a fake tear. “Boo-hoo, someone had a baby when she was a teenager. Human reproduction doesn’t involve being beaten to death with a crowbar.” “Nobody cares that you died, Jason!” “Indeed,” Damian agrees. “Being stabbed by your clone is far worse than being caught in a little explosion. And I can take a crowbar beating in my sleep.” “I’m gonna kill him, Bruce. I’ll kill him right now. Just say the word and I’ll do it.” Bruce sighs, closing his eyes. “Duke, there are painkillers in the medicine cabinet if you need them. I’ll text you the time of your dentist appointment. The rest of you, please refrain from talking to me for the rest of the night.” Bruce walks away toward the manor, silently praying that he can forget this conversation ever happened. “Hey, who wants to see where Killer Croc bit my ass once?”

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tinyshe · 7 months

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Prayer request: please if you would, prayer support in regaining some health, especially kidneys. Many thanks and God bless

#prayer request #health #Kidney function #Please pray for all kidney patients

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kimpson · 3 years

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My name is James kim.

This Is How I Came To Know What I Now Know, That I Am helping patients all over the world. Am putting this down now because I have had allot of patients asked how I do came about this protocol.

feel grateful to be able to tell my story that will make you aware of my background and how I arrived here.

Like so many people, I was scared, tearful and very distraught after my mother received her cancer diagnosis. Over the next 6-12 months the medical establishment tried, but nothing the doctors had to offer appeared to stop the metastasized cancer from taking over her entire body. She did what research she could about terms like; how to get rid of cancer naturally, holistic treatments and cures for metastasized cancer, and alternative cancer treatments that work.

Sadly, she never found anything that she thought would work for her.

My Father also had a real scare with a cancerous left kidney. His cancer hadn’t metastasized so his Doctors removed the kidney and he has been fine ever since. Then a day that I hoped would never come, came.

My mother said she did not think she was going to survive her cancer, the thought of which left me terrified and petrified thinking I was going to lose my mother to cancer.

Worse yet, the thought of her spending her last days in a hospice bed paralyzed me with fear and left me wanting to do nothing more than to curl up in a corner somewhere.

But instead of feeling sorry for myself and wanting to do what I could to save my mother, I chose to spend my time Googling terms like; how to cure stage 4 cancer naturally, natural lung cancer cures, natural treatment for lung cancer, natural cure for lung cancer, natural remedies for lung cancer and a whole bunch more.

My wife saw me doing these online searches, and she and the kids pleaded with me to accept the inevitable and to start preparing myself for the worse.

I was a useless wreck!

My Only Options :

(1)Pray, hope and plead while waiting for cancer to kill her

(2)Try to figure out how to slow down or stop her cancer long enough for her to die from old age instead.

As you might have guessed, I chose option 2 and then I aggressively launched a mission to save her life. Fear and desperation are probably two of the greatest motivators there are.

Available on the web were tons of books and hundreds of websites offering anywhere from a single product that cures every disease mankind has ever known, including those trying to tell you how to get rid of cancer naturally. To even more websites offering “2-299 guaranteed surefire alternative lung cancer treatments using the root from some plant that is only found in the Amazon Rain Forest or on a mountain top somewhere in India.

Common sense and research told me that all of these were a waste of time.

Common Sense and Research

Let me be brutally honest with you. I found no magic pill or secret drug out there that could cure cancer or keep her alive.

Especially after you’ve done multiple rounds of chemo and/or radiation. Odds are it’s over! Close the shades, update your will, finalize your funeral arrangements, and kiss your family and friends goodbye. I was seeing this first hand with my mother, and the saddest part is that the only certain thing is WHEN and not IF she would succumb to the cancer metastasis.

Many times I wanted to give up on finding a solution. I had almost come to terms with the reality that she’d be dead in 6 Months. I went through a gamut of emotions like fear, anxiety, dread and anger. But I channeled those emotions and went about the work of saving her.

Please allow me the pleasure of sharing with you the ” Eureka” moment when everything all came together. What I found is:

I quickly concluded that after many decades of waging war on cancer there had to be legitimate, valid and credible studies that revealed an effective alternative cancer treatment protocol.

After hundreds, if not thousands of hours of searching the web and reading hundreds of these research studies, my hard work and relentless efforts were rewarded.

I found several studies that had been rigorously peer-reviewed and which were supported by hundreds more rigorously reviewed university studies. What all of these studies did was to put together for me a genuine, scientifically validated treatment program that was virtually certain, at a minimum, to stop her cancer metastasis in its tracks, if not outright cure it!

The researchers declared this treatment as, likely to be “more successful than current approaches because it is based on the principles of evolutionary biology and metabolic control analysis” and that it could truly be an alternative cancer treatment and cure.

So if you needed an:

-alternative breast cancer treatment

-alternative prostate cancer treatment

-alternative pancreatic cancer treatment

-alternative liver cancer treatment

Then this is your ticket to a real chance to treat and beat your disease!

However, I like to be as close to 100% sure as I can get. So I looked at how The American Cancer Society (ACS) evaluates mainstream and alternative cancer treatments.

They do this by asking three questions:

1) Has the method been objectively demonstrated in the peer-reviewed scientific literature to be effective?

2) Has the method shown potential for benefit that exceeds the potential for harm?

3) Have objective studies been correctly conducted under appropriate peer review to answer these questions?

Fortunately, I was able to answer all those questions with a resounding YES! Every single piece of knowledge reinforced my belief that this truly would give me a great chance at keeping her alive especially since current mainstream protocols like surgery, chemo, and radiation had failed her.

The Well-Known Secret is Finally Available

It’s not a secret that Big Pharma makes some very vicious business decisions. So it should be fairly easy to see there is not a Big Pharma business person that would spend millions to educate MDs or the General Public about a cheap and effective treatment protocol. Even if it has been scientifically validated by elite research scientists time and time again. Just because it has zero potential to add to Big Pharma’s already massive net profits.

But what I learnt earn is the findings scientists have known about for decades.

That you stand an outstanding chance of defeating cancer if not outright curing it, IF the right protocol is used.

What your cancer cells need to kill you, are the nutrients (glucose and secondarily glutamine) that the blood vessels bring to them so that they can continue to grow and metastasize. Because cancer in and of itself won’t kill you. It is the ongoing and uncontrolled growth of cancer that eventually overwhelms your body and kills you.

So the key to not dying from cancer is to be able to slow down or kill enough cancer cells so that they don’t overrun your body.

Research scientists have known and proven this over and over again for decades. This protocol teaches you the specific details of what to do so that you can effectively starve cancer and then eradicate it while ensuring that your normal cells remain very healthy. And the best part is, this protocol does it very quickly, cheaply and most importantly very EFFECTIVELY!

The 70+years of clinical science that supports it, is overwhelming.

If you have cancer of any origin, no matter how aggressive it is, or even if it has metastasized, YOU DON’T have to be DEAD too soon.

Quite the contrary, you will have a plan, that is a whole body and systemic protocol that will suffocate, starve, poison and kill cancer anywhere in the body. It matters not if it has been declared untreatable cancer. Metastasized or still localized. It doesn’t matter the origin (lung, breast, liver, pancreas, etc).

You Won’t Have to Worry to Death Anymore

#science #medicine #cancer #regenerative medicine #stem cells #leukemia #lymphoma #bone marrow transplant #gene therapy #molecular biology #cell biology #aging #academic medicine #ucsd #good news

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skippyv20 · 1 year

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Our Prayer List🙏🏻❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Our friend’s 6 yr old granddaughter is going for tests tomorrow. She woke with terrible pain in her hip and her calf of one leg. Doctors have her under observation and will be doing full body scan. She has high inflammatory markers. Infection has been ruled out. Prayers for good results. Prayers and good thoughts for little girl Riley who needs prayers, she has cancer and there are no options left. Please pray for Riley to have a peaceful passing, as we are now calling on all angels.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend that is struggling with faith. She feels God isn’t with her. She is lost and frightened and feeling alone.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend whose husband is very, very ill. Prayers for the whole family. They are facing many obstacles for healthcare at this time. Her husband’s pancreas is all but dead tissue but it keeps swelling and then going down, this has caused his liver to start failing. He is facing many medical issues. Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s friend and her daughter and her husband. The daughter has lupus, and risked her own life to have a baby as she so wanted to be a mother. Their little son was born prematurely weighing 500 grams on Friday and sadly he died on Monday evening. They are absolutely heartbroken.

Prayers and good thought for our friend’s friend Marjorie. She went into hospital for a gallstone operation ended up with part of her bowel removed. She went into kidney failure and is still there. She is 86 years of age bless her.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend who is mourning the loss of her cousin. Also, prayers for her aunt (who is feeling suicidal from the loss of her daughter), prayers for her husband and her children.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s former sister in-law and brother in-law. She was diagnosed with tongue and throat cancer in January and in March he was diagnosed with lung cancer. Also for their 2 daughters who are taking care of them.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend who is mourning the passing of her beloved mother. Prayers for her mother’s journey home

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend, she needs prayers for better health and financial succour.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend who had surgery on Wednesday. She is recovering now and asks for continued prayers.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend. She is suffering from an anxiety and fear. She is in desperate need of another job, and is worried about her finances. She is being bullied and stalked.

Prayers and good thoughts for Baby Roy’s family as they mourn his loss. Praying for them to have peace and to feel God’s loving presence as they continue to mourn.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s friend who has a tumor on his prostate and had biopsies. He will get results next week.

Prayers and good thoughts for our dear friend, who is suffering from severe back pain & pain in other hip

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend who has been facing many trials, and is in need of prayers. The last 18 months have been hard, and things still not what they should be.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s family friend who had a stroke. His right side is paralyzed, but he has some sensation. He is very down at this time. He will now face new trials because of his condition.

Prayers and good thoughts to our friend recovering from surgery on her foot and is still not able to walk.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s brother who has had knee surgery but is in much pain. He is restless and feeling depressed.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s husband who had surgery today. It was successful, now we pray for a quick recovery.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s patient Sissa who has third-degree breast cancer.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend who is appealing her disability payments claim, which was denied. She is still waiting for that to end. Appt with disability doctor next week (end of April)

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s husband who has not been well.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s brother in Spain. He is healing and it looks like he may be starting rehabilitation exercises soon.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s daughter who is struggling. She is in much pain mentally. We prayer for her family as well as they try desperately to help her.

Prayers and good thoughts for Baby James and his heart brother Matthew. Also their heart brother Conrad

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fantastic-rambles · 4 years

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Black Beast, Silver Blade [2]

Fandom: Bungou Stray Dogs

Characters: Akutagawa Gin, Ozaki Kouyou, Akutagawa Ryuunosuke

Warnings: Mild angst?

Word Count: 1k

“Again."

Gin took a deep breath, melting back into the shadows of the warehouse. Her target stood in the center of the room, perfectly poised with the tip of her parasol resting on the dusty ground. Silently, the girl circled around the woman, ducking behind piles of boxes and around pillars with a silver blade gleaming in her white-knuckled grip. Her heart pounded in her ears as she peered around a pallet, looking for any sign that her opponent's readiness was lessening.

She let the first opening pass, and then the second, using the time to tamp down on her emotions. When she was ready, she suddenly dashed forward, keeping low to the ground as she approached. Her footsteps were perfectly silent on the concrete, and she angled her blade just before she drove it upwards, a careful strike that would puncture the kidney.

But in that moment, Ozaki whipped around, perfectly catching the weapon against her own as she half-drew her sword. Gin spun away instantly, putting distance between them as she flipped her dagger around, holding it in front of herself defensively as the tables were turned and her teacher pressed the attack. Strikes rained down on Gin from all directions, just barely slow enough for her to deflect or dodge as she was driven backwards, searching for an escape route that would give her an opportunity to counterattack. But a small lapse of attention was enough for the Executive to slip into an opening, rapping the girl's knuckles with the back of the blade. Gin's dagger clattered to the ground, and she froze as cold metal kissed her neck. Ozaki held the position for a heartbeat longer, then stepped back, sheathing her sword.

"That was better, but your killing intent gave you away again. It's not good enough to just hide your presence. You certainly have aptitude, but you must be able to steady your heart so that killing seems as natural as breathing."

The woman seemed to hesitate for a moment, then reached out to place a gentle hand on Gin's shoulder. Her voice was soft when she spoke again. "You are a kind girl, Gin-chan. This may never be possible for you. It's not too late to transfer you to a support team--"

"No!" The word burst out of her explosively, and Gin colored immediately, embarrassed by her outburst. "I... I want this, Ozaki-san. I will do better, truly. It... it is difficult, but please continue to give me your guidance."

She bowed deeply, holding her breath, so she heard Ozaki sigh before pulling her hand back.

"If that is what you wish for, then of course I will help you. It is not a bad thing, for a woman to learn how to at least defend herself in this world. But you need not be so eager to stain your hands with blood. You've done well today, so why don't we end this here for now?"

Gin bit her lip, but she nodded, kneeling to retrieve her weapon. Ozaki waited patiently for her to stand up again, then swept out of the warehouse as Gin followed her as quietly as a shadow. She knew that the woman was only trying to look out for her, but she felt frustrated and helpless nevertheless. Ryuu was already out in the field, moving on Dazai's orders, but it seemed as though she hadn't improved at all. Now, as in back then, all that she could do was hide and wait, praying for him to come back to her. Even though she knew that her skill at concealing herself had saved both of their lives when the rest of their friends had been killed, and that that ability had been refined since then, she was still too far away from being a capable assassin.

When they reached the main road, the two women separated, with Ozaki heading back in the direction of the Port Mafia's headquarters. Gin continued on alone to the apartment that she shared with her brother, beginning their dinner preparations as she awaited his return. She wouldn't start actually cooking until he was back, since his work was always unpredictable, and she wanted to ensure that he had a hot, fresh meal every evening.

This place, too, was a testament to Ryuu's value to the mafia: the stipend that he received for his work allowed them to live in relative comfort, without the fear of going hungry. But she was relieved more than anything else. His cough had been gradually improving now that they weren't in the slums, though his doctor had warned them that the damage had already been done. He would never recover fully, but with proper care and medication, the effects could be alleviated. Still, now, as before, he pushed himself too much, so the least she could do was support him as much as she could.

The setting sun was casting long shadows across the living room where she waited patiently, reading a book, when the lock finally clicked. The noise, sudden in the silence, startled Gin, and her eyes shot toward the door as her hand fell to her dagger. But she relaxed when a familiar figure stepped inside, setting aside her book and approaching him carefully.

"Ryuu?" she called out softly, waiting for him to acknowledge her presence. He hadn't hurt her since the day that they'd joined the Port Mafia, but occasionally, when he was particularly worn out, there had been times that he hadn't immediately recognized her. She didn't fear him--she had utter faith that even if he made a mistake, he would never kill her--but she wanted to make sure that their home would always be a haven for him. A place where he could relax and forget about the world outside. The murders he was probably committing wouldn't bother him, she was fairly certain, but something had changed ever since he started working under Dazai. So she always took care to not startle him or give him any reason to question the safety of this place that was solely their own.

Today, though, his eyes were clear as he turned his head to look at her, and she smiled at him.

"Welcome home."

"I'm back."

#bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #bsd #fanfic #fan fic #akutagawa ryuunosuke #ryuunosuke akutagawa #akutagawa #akutagawa gin #gin akutagawa #gin #ozaki kouyou #kouyou ozaki #kouyou #mine

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amelialincoln · 4 years

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Beautiful and Brutal

Amelia’s mind was flying a mile a minute. There was some sort of provincial high school football tournament going on at a field near by which had meant about a dozen concussions had entered the ER throughout the week. Now normally Amelia would not be paged for a concussion; however, all of these football parents seemed absolutely adamant that their child had some sort of spinal injury that required an immediate neuro consult. She was definitely a supporter of the better safe than sorry expression, however at this point it was getting a little out of hand.

“Hey,” Link’s voice filled her ears as she was swiftly pulled into a quiet trauma room.

“Hi,” Amelia sighed, allowing his arms to wrap around her waist.

“You look exhausted,” he smiled, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Probably because I feel it.” She smirked, resting her forehead on his shoulder. “I should go.”

Link pouted. “Meet in the attending’s lounge at five and then a long back massage tonight?”

“Sounds perfect. You’re off then too?”

“You got it,” he replied before holding the door open for her and watching her disappear into the crowded emergency room.

She was guiltily praying for emergent head injuries as the announced that yet another football player had, surprise, a concussion. Her eyes scanned the room as another player entered through the ER’s sliding doors. She quickly made her way to the elevator and pressed the button for the OR floor. As the doors opened she was supposed to find Koracick wheeling a patient into an operating room.

“Tom!” She rushed over.

“What’s up Shep?”

“Please let me take this off your hands. I literally haven’t stepped into an OR in hours. You’ve already had three surgeries today. Please, I’ll owe you one.”

“Yeah, no,” he laughed. “I’m not getting anywhere near that ER until Monday.”

“Tom, please. I’m begging. I’m super cute when I beg, you can’t resist this.”

“Watch me.”

“Doctor Shepherd,” Jo Karev appeared beside them.

“Not right now Karev, I’m really close to talking Koracick into giving me this surgery.”

“Definitely not close—” Tom shook his head giving Wilson a wink.

“It’s Jake,” Jo interrupted. “He’s in the ER. Alex is checking—”

“What?” Amelia’s eyes widened in shock before mumbling that she’d see them both later and racing down the hallway.

She found Jake and Karev immediately. Her heart pounding she made her way to the bed trying not to look frantic.

“Mommy,” Jake called out. Amelia winced at the pain in his voice.

“Hi baby,” Amelia replied. “Did you page Link?” She asked Karev. He shook his head and she tried to cover the shakiness of her hands as she paged him. “What’s going on?” She moved to kiss her son’s sweaty forehead.

“My stomach hurts,” Jake wailed.

“We’re thinking appendicitis,” Karev nodded. “We need to get him up to CT to make sure. The daycare brought him down right away.”

“Okay,” Amelia bit her lip as Jake wrapped his pudgy fingers around her arm, his eyes, a startling replication of Link’s piercing blue ones, staring into hers. “I’m scared, Mommy. It hurted.”

“I know, baby,” she said wrapping her arms around her son and climbing onto the patient bed. “But uncle Karev is going to take really good care of you.”

“Where’s daddy?” Jake asked. Amelia told him he was coming soon as Alex did a quick exam, confirming what he thought to be his diagnosis. “Uncle Alex?”

“Yeah bud?”

“I think I’m gonna throw up now.”

“Oh, Jakey,” Amelia gasped, shoving a kidney dish under him as he heaved. “It’s okay sweetheart.”

“Amelia!” A familiar voice rang through the ER. Link rushed over, hurriedly and knelt down before his son. “Hey, big guy,” he grinned. “You not feeling well?” Amelia was shocked to see his composure as he ruffled Jake’s hair.

“Daddy I throwed up.” He winced as Alex pressed on the right side of his abdomen. “Do I have to have surgery?” Amelia was impressed by the four year old’s vocabulary despite it being such a commonly used word in their house. Link looked to Alex, who nodded. “Zola taughted me that,” he explained as his parents looked at him with surprise. “She said when you get hurt to have surgery and Auntie Mer has to do it.”

“Well not every time you get hurt. But you might have to,” Link answered, Jake’s eyes widened with fear. “Don’t worry Jake, it’s not that scary. I had lots of surgeries when I was a kid.”

“Really?”

“He did.” Amelia nodded. “And you know auntie Mer?”

“Yes, I know her,” he responded.

“She had the exact same surgery that you might have today.”

“She had an appandaxs?”

“Well not anymore, but she used to have an appendix.”

“Cause they took it out?” Amelia nodded. “Oh. Like mine?”

“Like yours,” Link assured him, taking Amelia’s shaking hand in his and placing a soft kiss on her forehead. “I think your Mommy is more worried about your surgery than you are,” he joked.

“Why, Mommy?” he asked, placing a chubby hand over Link’s. “Surgeries aren’t scary. You do them all the time.”

“You’re right, baby,” Amelia bit the inside of her lip and swallowed, trying to soothe her tight throat. “You’re going to be absolutely fine.

Originally Alex had said he didn’t want either of them, especially Amelia, in the gallery. However, this idea was not popular among the parents and finally he’d caved. Amelia sat in Link’s lap. She’d started in her own chair but had lasted about as long as Alex’s attempt to have them wait in the waiting room. Link had his arms around her and she breathed in the faint smell of his cologne, not taking her eyes off the surgical table for a second. Alex had warned them that with Jake’s age there was a bigger chance of rupture, as if they didn’t already know.

“He’s going to be fine, babe,” Link breathed, as if reading her thoughts.

“I know,” Amelia sighed, relaxing into his chest. “This kind of this just terrifies me. He’s just all we have and I never want to lose him.” Link winced at the indirect mention of the trouble they’d been having getting pregnant again. They tried IVF for about a year before Amelia’s mental health had taken a bit of a turn. In the meantime they deciding on casually continuing to try naturally. However, he knew that Amelia was being anything but casual about it and had been obsessively tracking every fertile window and period she had. He tried to ignore the little sobs coming from their bathroom every month after she would hide the test in the groceries. Hoping he hadn’t noticed, which he did.

“You never know, Mia,” he tried.

“Can we not right now?” She uncomfortably shifted in his lap. Peering down at Alex who gave them both a two thumbs up before letting his resident close. Amelia breathed a sigh of relief, bounding over to the intercom. “Just a reminder that you’ve got Jake Derek Lincoln on your table, not the kid you want to leave a big scar on,” she joked to the resident who looked up in fear before tightening his sutures. Link chuckled lifting her chin so that their lips could collide and pulling her in to a tight embrace.

“I don’t know how my parents did it,” he sighed. “I hope we never have to go through that with him.” His expression darkened a bit.

“We won’t,” Amelia promised. “Now let’s get out of here so we can be there when our baby wakes up.”

“Our baby is four years old,” Link teased.

“He could be twenty for all I care. Doesn’t mean he isn’t still going to be my baby,” she added stubbornly. Link shook his head laughing, eyeing his wife and knowing that their child was going to have a long adolescence ahead of him.

Plz like and reblog if you enjoyed! And don’t forget to send me prompts.

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bloggingwithaditya · 3 years

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CHERISH: Before it’s vanished (PART:1)

I'll gonna start my todays writing with a story which is really close to me, I know this place is not to show-off my pain but though this place is really amazing to let things off your chest in a very efficient manner "going too much diplomatic here", so yeah let’s start with a story "the story where there was a person but not the time". I am gonna say that when people leave they leave with memories but the person I am gonna tell you about has given me moments, moments to make me understand what the hell is LIFE. I had known her for a year since the time we met and one day a year later basically out of no-where her friend calls me, stating that she's gone.

Monday morning and I was in a hospital for my routine check-up for kidney stones and my results were pretty good, stating that the stones were soluble and can easily pass through your body waste and there would be no operation for the extraction for the same, I was really feeling wonderful that moment and by the time I stepped out the Doc. cabin, one small human being running like a blizzard in the hallway and here face is facing the opposite direction and I was watching her like a MEERKAT with lifeless expression and the something happened after that particular second which is pretty obvious "we bumped into each other" and still I can hear her first words along with an elevated pitch "HEY, WTF ARE YOU DOING HUH, CANT YOU SEE I AM COMING FROM THERE".

Well that is really uncalled for, because for what's worth I wanna apologized and want to start backing off from the situation, because at that moment my hunch was totally saying, well not saying but shouting that this girl is a bad deal and you should just step away from this situation because now I am fit from these stones and probably not coming to this hospital ever again "technically, not gonna go any hospital ever" but being a heavy thinker it tend to take a little too much time for my hunch to activate and in return 10 seconds have been passed and I am still in my thoughts and I am staring at that girl with a face of zero expressions. Thus by judging my face that girl's hunch says that i am pervert and a creepy guy (basically it lead to another one of her howl, which made everyone standing in that hallway understand that i am pervert and a creepy guy staring that girl), thus with too much happening around me, I tried to step away from the situation but there come an another scream saying "WOW! NOW YOU GONNA RUN, HUH PERVERT" and I was like what the hell happened here in these few minutes "from being a patient of kidney stone to a pervert, dammit she need to be stopped".

Out of nowhere, my body working on reflex doing something i wouldn't have done in my past life ever. My one hand on her mouth just to make her little mouth shut for a while and another hand holding his right hand and her eyes stick on me with a ray of hope that was clearly telling that, please don't let that hand go, just, just take me somewhere else from this shit hole please. My legs starts pacing on their own towards the exit along with her on my back pacing along with me, I was holding her hand like I used to had some past life connection with her and on the other she hasn't yet shook her hand off either from me, she was just walking with me like i was taking her away from this misery to some place good, some place where she can breather, some place where she can do what she want. My mind was running on his top speed telling me, what the hell you are doing you douche-bag.

Walking down the exit for a series amount of stairs and a couple hallways, a period later we were out of our misery and there comes the confrontation part. I already had a series of question's ready for this wild child but before I could have said anything there was a sweet mild voice coming deep through her soul "thank you", all my questions were out of order for that particular moment or I was resisting myself from all the interrogation I was gonna make her face to just a one simple question "are you ok". I don't know maybe it's a thing that these simple question can make a huge impact on any person but I was refraining myself from all that jibber jabber and somehow i just asked "what were you doing in that hospital", "why were you running from that nurse" and "would you like to eat something because I think you are really hungry".

Hi, my name is "Amulya" or you can say me "Amu", see I am sorry from all those things I said in the hallway, I just wanna get myself out of that hell hole because that ass hat compounder is not letting me go because you see I am suffering from something which cannot be cured and I know you would be judging me in this outfit I am wearing, well technically i don't have any much time left with me and I want to try every single thing I could in this leftover time. I have a lot of things in the “to do list” and I really have to check them all. you must be thinking that why shouldn’t I be with my family spending my rest of my time around my loved ones, well you see when I am around my old man and woman they just pamper me a lot and my mother on the other hand just whenever she holds my hand she just starts to cry no matter what and the old man just gives me whatever I say no matter how expensive it is, so before i could declare myself crazy till the time I die, I just wanna live my every moment doing something new, doing something which is mentioned in this to do list and to do all this I just cannot waste my time sitting in that hospital praying, ah...... yes you were saying that i look hungry, yeah I could be hungry. What are we gonna be eating. Then I'll tell you about my “to do list”.

To Be Continued............

#tumblr #storytelling #indianwriters #taletotell #love #aesthetic #tumblrfeed #tumblrgram #tumblrpost

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chrysocomae · 4 years

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Please share this essay from a healthcare worker from r/CoronavirusUS

What to expect when you get critically ill from COVID-19. A healthcare worker’s perspective.

"I am a healthcare worker who has volunteered to be a part of the COVID ICU “proning team” at the hospital where I work. I am writing this because my colleagues and I had a long discussion today about how disconnected the public is when it comes to the harsh reality of this virus and what it does to people. I will describe in as much detail as possible what you should expect to “experience” when you get critically ill from COVID-19.

By the time I meet you in the hospital, you’re already intubated in the ICU. This means that you likely started feeling terrible enough to get yourself to a hospital and then got admitted into said hospital. Your condition worsened to the point that the medical team determined that your best chance of survival would be to place you in a medically-induced coma and hook you up to a ventilator that literally breathes for you. The process that leads up to this point is traumatic, terrifying, and lonely. You are allowed zero visitors and your only interactions are with strangers that come into your room unannounced, wearing what look to you like hazmat suits. The hospital you’re staying in isn’t equipped with enough “negative-pressure” rooms to contain the virus and keep it from spreading to the hallway so there will be a giant window unit that pumps all the air from your room out the window vs allowing it back into the hospital. This window unit is LOUD (similar to a generator) and it will drive you absolutely insane because it MUST be running 24/7. So, you’re just going to have to accept that. As terrible as all this external hell feels, it’s nothing compared to what’s going on internally. Your body is deteriorating. Every breath is a gasp. Turning over to face the door when you hear a knock is impossible because you are literally THAT exhausted. Your oxygen levels continue to drop, even though you are being pumped MASSIVE amounts of pure oxygen through your nose (which is now bleeding constantly because it is completely dried out). The oxygen levels drop so low that the only course of action is to make you comatose, give you a paralyzing agent so you don’t thrash, and place you on a ventilator. Ok, so NOW let’s get to the bad part.

You’re laying on a bed, on your back. Unconscious, naked, Foley catheter in your urethra, and maybe (if your nurse is lucky) a FlexiSeal in your anus to collect all your diarrhea (look it up if you have questions). A ventilator is placed down your throat, somewhere between 20-28centimeters down. It will probably move around if it’s not tethered, which is a no-no, so it will be taped to your head/face. We’ll come back to this later, because that tape will eventually mess up your face, maybe permanently. A feeding tube goes down your nose because comatose people can’t eat, obviously. So your diet is now a nutrient-packed yellow mushy soup. Yum! Ok this is the basic setup.

Even with all this medically-engineered hoopla, you continue to deteriorate. The ventilator is running 100% oxygen down your throat, into your lungs but still not enough is getting into your blood. This is where organ failure starts to happen. Kidney failure, brain damage, etc. And this is where me and my “proning team” show up at your door.

Prone = laying on your stomach.

Supine = laying on your back.

Proning = turning you from your stomach onto your back.

Why do we do this? Well, to simplify it, the back of your lungs are bigger and better at oxygenating your blood. But when you’re laying on your back, all the fluid (LOTS of fluid) in your lungs accumulates and fills the back of your lungs - thus drowning them and making them much less effective. Flipping you onto your stomach causes that fluid to move to the front of your lungs (because gravity), freeing up the back of your lungs to do their better job. Honestly, it’s pretty amazing to see how quickly you will go from 79% oxygen (SpO2) to 93% as soon as we turn you onto your stomach. It’s very satisfying for us. Makes us feel proud. We’ll pat you on the back, literally, and give you kudos for this oxygen accomplishment.

We will plan to leave you in this prone position for somewhere between 12 to 18 hours. Your head is turned to the side, otherwise the ventilator tube would be rammed through the back of your mouth. Don’t worry, we will position this for you, you’re paralyzed, remember?

Once those 12 - 18 hours are up, the prone team comes back in to flip you back over to supine. This is where things can get ugly. Being paralyzed and on your stomach leads to A LOT of swelling/edema. Especially in your face. Your tongue has swelled up to ~5x it’s normal size and it doesn’t fit in your mouth anymore. Lips swell x5 times, too. Your eyelids have been taped shut but they’re swollen too. It looks like you have golf balls under your eyelids. Now, remember that tape that holds the ventilator tube in place? Well, it’s still holding tight. And with all the face/mouth swelling, I should emphasize the word TIGHT. You’ll be in this condition for a while. Maybe a week, maybe two, maybe three. That tape will get replaced daily but it will do some damage to your skin, especially your lips and ears. And since your blood isn’t getting proper oxygen, your body isn’t great at healing wounds. So, expect your face to look a little different for a LONG time, if you make it out alive. I now can say that I have seen a living person’s cheekbones. Not the form of the cheekbones, but the ACTUAL bones, because their wounds on their cheeks got so bad that the flesh necrotized and sloughed off during the friction involved with a head turn.

Where were we? Oh yes, we just flipped you back to supine. The 5 of us will be doing some routine care on you: wiping you down with Chlorhexidine Gluconate (CHG) wipes, putting Venelex cream and Mepilex patches your bed sores (think bony prominences - knees, clavicles, sternum, shoulders, nipples, shins, cheeks, etc.), using a suction device to suck up all the secretions from your mouth and nose, cleaning up your diarrhea from EVERYWHERE and changing that pesky face tape. Don’t worry, we’ll be gentle.

Now, it’s been maybe 10-15 minutes on your back. We stand back and assess how you’re doing. If you’re a champ, your oxygen levels stay in the low/mid 90s and we can leave you like this for 1 to 8 hours before you start deteriorating again, at which point it’s back onto your stomach.

The idea is that each time we put you back in supine, you’ll be able to maintain longer and longer periods of time before your oxygen drops to the 80s or 70s (or 60s, 50s, 40s, you get it).

The longer you’re in this ICU situation, the worse it gets. Eventually, we have to start doing all the routine care from the side-lying position, because putting you on your back could literally kill you. The supine position becomes intolerable - your blood pressure starts to plummet, your heart skips beats or shoots up to the 200s (or just stops) and your oxygen level drops immediately. So, unfortunately, you go back onto your stomach. More swelling, yay! Repeat this process daily and hope for better results each time. The more often we have to repeat, the less likely you are to survive, because it’s an indicator of how poorly your lungs are recovering.

Now, this is the point where someone might ask, “why are you keeping this person alive? Isn’t it inhumane to prolong this person’s suffering? What quality of life will they have when/if they survive?” Unfortunately, that’s not our choice. Even more unfortunately, it’s likely not even YOUR choice. Who’s choice is it? Your Medical Power of Attorney (MPOA), which 9 times out of 10, is a family member. Now, remember, there are zero visitors allowed for COVID-19 patients. That means that your family is getting ALL the information about your condition from a phone call or texts messages from someone on the healthcare team. Your family can’t see you and they can’t talk to you. Thus, they simply cannot appreciate just how much you are suffering. How could they? It’s not their fault. They love you. They’re praying for you. They’re wondering if they are making the right choice but they are doing so without all the information, because a phone call from a doctor or case manager can only go so far.

Above all, they are holding on to hope. Hope that you’ll come back from this. That you’ll be that patient in that next news video that gets the standing ovation as they’re wheeled out of the hospital because YOU MADE IT. And I hope you do, too. We all do. We care about you. If you make it out of that ICU, you’ve got months of rehab ahead of you. Your fight for life has JUST started. The success story is that, against all odds, you didn’t die.

Or, maybe you did. As I write this, 170,000 people have died from COVID-19 in the US alone. Each one of those people had a story, a life, a family, dreams, goals and a future. So many of them suffered tremendously through their last days, with strangers. Now they’re gone, forever. And that ICU bed is ready for the next one. I hope it’s not you. I hope it’s not your mom, dad, grandpa, aunt, sister, child or neighbor. But if it is, you can count on me and my coworkers to be gentle with you and treat you with dignity and respect. We will do everything in our power to get you home. This virus doesn’t care about your political affiliations, your plans, your freedoms. It doesn’t care about you at all. So we will.

Now, if I may.....please wear your damn mask.

Edit: The title says “when you get critically ill.” Emphasis on the “critically ill.” This is NOT what the average person should expect when they test positive. Most people DONT get critically ill. The VAST majority of people will never even see a regular hospital room, much less the ICU - I tested positive and I recovered at home with no medical intervention. Most will have mild symptoms and then recover. That being said, this post reflects a real possibility and a current reality for many people. I want people to understand the harsh reality of COVID-19. It affects everyone differently and taking small, practical precautions can keep you from ever having to wonder “is this going to happen to me?” or “did I get grandma sick because I didn’t take this seriously?” I apologize that this came off as fear mongering. The post reflects my experience as a healthcare worker and I feel that the public hasn’t had enough of that experience other than “we are overworked and tired.”

#covid 19 #covid19 #coronavirus usa #coronavirus #coronapocalypse #2020 election #election 2020 #usa #us politics #trump #fuck trump #pandemic #wear a mask #wear a fucking mask people #masks4all

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