#Rush University Medical center

[dontmeantobepoliticalbut]

Thirteen months ago, the Supreme Court overturned Roe v Wade opening the door for states to curtail or ban abortions.

Abortion remains legal in 21 states, including Illinois, which continues to expand access.

“While our neighboring states revert to forcing back-alley abortions, Illinois will remain a safe haven for women,” said Illinois Gov. JB Pritzker, who on Monday announced a new partnership between the University of Illinois Chicago, RUSH, the Chicago Abortion Fund, and state agencies aimed at helping women navigate medical needs related to abortions.

Pritzker said the state has also created a Family Planning program for Medicaid and is taking requests for proposals for an abortion services hotline.

“In the Land of Lincoln, we’ve doubled down on our commitment to maintain and expand reproductive health access for patients and protect providers,” Pritzker said.

Illinois has also made it illegal for crisis pregnancy centers to use misleading information to interfere with abortion services.

“Many of these centers are being put next to clinics where people are seeking to exercise their reproductive rights,” Pritzker said.

The pregnancy centers are challenging the law.

All of this is just in Illinois, as states are charting their own course across America. Roughly half of states ban or limit the procedure, or they’re trying to. Georgia bans abortion at roughly six weeks of pregnancy, and a ban in Indiana will take effect on August 1.

Medication abortion is another topic. Nearly two-thirds of states still allow it, but anti-abortion groups are also targeting the pills.

[informationhospital]

Rush University Medical Center Address, Doctors, Appointment, Specialties, School of Medicine

New Post has been published on https://www.informationhospital.com/rush-university-medical-center-address-doctors-appointment-specialties-school-of-medicine/

Rush University Medical Center Address, Doctors, Appointment, Specialties, School of Medicine

Rush University Medical Center Address

Rush University Medical Center, nestled in the vibrant heart of Chicago, stands not just as a mere structure, but as a testament to the evolution and progress of medical care in the United States. With a heritage stretching back to its foundational days in the 19th century, it has always been more than just a hospital; it is a symbol of hope, care, and innovation.

The medical center’s central address in Chicago ensures its status as a pivotal point of healthcare for both the city’s diverse inhabitants and those coming from afar. The easily recognizable Chicago skyline, which Rush is a part of, has seen countless individuals seeking medical attention, education, or research opportunities approach its doors. Its location isn’t just strategic but also symbolic, representing the intertwining of medical excellence with urban vibrancy.

The history of Rush is deeply intertwined with the medical history of Chicago. As the city grew, so did the hospital, responding to epidemics, pioneering research, and pushing the boundaries of medical education. Its address has been witness to the evolution of the city’s West Side, from the bustling days of early industry to the challenges of urban change, and now, the modern rebirth of the area.

For students and medical professionals, the address of Rush University Medical Center is synonymous with opportunity. As a premier institution, it has been at the forefront of medical research, its findings echoing through the corridors of institutions worldwide. Doctors from every corner of the globe have trained, practiced, and contributed here, making its reputation truly international.

Patients, on the other hand, associate the address with hope and world-class care. The Medical Center’s state-of-the-art facilities, matched with the expertise of its dedicated staff, ensure that every individual is treated with the utmost respect and professionalism. From rare conditions to common ailments, the diverse range of medical services available is unparalleled.

Moreover, the hospital’s integration into the community extends beyond medicine. The address has hosted community events, health drives, and educational seminars, emphasizing its commitment not just to heal, but to educate and uplift. It is not just a healthcare provider but a partner in the well-being of the community.

In conclusion, the address of Rush University Medical Center in Chicago is not just a geographical location. It represents a legacy of medical excellence, a commitment to community well-being, and a beacon of hope for countless individuals. Whether they are medical professionals, patients, or curious visitors, all know that within those walls lies a dedication to the betterment of humanity, rooted deeply in history and looking forward to the innovations of the future.

Rush University Medical Center Doctors

Rush University Medical Center, nestled in the bustling heart of Chicago, stands as an embodiment of medical innovation and compassionate patient care. This esteemed institution has carved its niche not just on the basis of its world-class infrastructure or its dedication to cutting-edge research but is profoundly recognized for its stellar team of medical professionals, the doctors who are the heartbeat of this establishment.

Every doctor at Rush brings to the table a unique blend of academic prowess, clinical expertise, and an inherent passion for healing. They hail from diverse backgrounds, each bringing a wealth of knowledge and experience, making the medical team at Rush a melting pot of global expertise. From the intricacies of neurosurgery to the delicate art of pediatrics, from pioneering cardiological procedures to groundbreaking oncological treatments, these physicians have consistently demonstrated excellence in every medical frontier.

But what truly sets them apart is their holistic approach to medicine. At Rush, the belief is firm: treating a disease is not just about addressing the symptoms but understanding the individual behind those symptoms. This patient-centric philosophy ensures that every individual is treated with respect, dignity, and a tailor-made treatment plan designed keeping in mind their unique needs and challenges.

Moreover, the collaborative ethos that thrives within the walls of Rush University Medical Center ensures that patients benefit from a multidisciplinary approach. Doctors, nurses, therapists, and other healthcare professionals work in unison, discussing, debating, and designing the best course of action for every patient. This synergy not only ensures comprehensive care but also fosters a culture of continuous learning and growth among the medical staff.

It’s worth noting that Rush’s commitment to excellence isn’t confined to the boundaries of its campus. The doctors are also fervently involved in global health initiatives, medical research, and academic endeavors. Many hold esteemed positions in renowned medical associations, publish frequent research papers, and are often invited as guest speakers and consultants on global platforms. Their thirst for knowledge and the drive to push the boundaries of conventional medicine are what keep Rush at the cutting edge of medical advancements.

Furthermore, Rush’s focus on integrating technology into healthcare is evident in the way its doctors are trained and how they practice medicine. From utilizing advanced diagnostic tools to harnessing the power of telemedicine, these medical professionals are adept at leveraging technology to enhance patient outcomes.

In conclusion, the doctors at Rush University Medical Center are more than just medical practitioners; they are healers, innovators, researchers, and above all, staunch advocates for their patients. Their unwavering commitment to excellence and their holistic approach to patient care make them not only the pride of Rush but also place them at the zenith of the global medical community. When one steps into Rush University Medical Center, they can be assured that they are in the hands of some of the best medical minds the world has to offer.

Rush University Medical Center Appointment

Rush University Medical Center, located in the heart of Chicago, is a beacon of medical excellence. Over the years, the institution has established a reputation for cutting-edge research, pioneering treatments, and most importantly, unwavering dedication to patient care. At the core of this patient-centric approach is the appointment system, a fundamental aspect that ensures the right patient meets the right doctor at the right time.

The very first step in a patient’s journey to better health often starts with scheduling an appointment. It might seem like a straightforward task, but in the realm of modern medicine, where specialties are vast and varied, ensuring that a patient is paired with the right specialist can make a significant difference in the outcome of their treatment.

At Rush, the appointment system has been meticulously designed to be both user-friendly and efficient. With the advent of digital tools, patients now have the flexibility to book, reschedule, or cancel their appointments online, allowing for a degree of convenience that respects the busy lives of the modern-day individual. This digital integration also allows for automated reminders, ensuring patients remember their scheduled visits, minimizing missed appointments and facilitating better patient-doctor rapport.

However, technology is just one part of the equation. The real success of the appointment process at Rush lies in the human touch. Dedicated staff members are always on hand to guide patients, answering queries, providing information, and ensuring that any special requirements are catered to. For new patients, this guidance can be particularly invaluable. They are often unsure about the right department or specialist for their specific health concerns. The knowledgeable staff at Rush, backed by a comprehensive internal system, can direct patients appropriately, ensuring that their healthcare journey starts on the right foot.

Furthermore, Rush University Medical Center recognizes the importance of timely medical intervention. The system is structured to prioritize urgent cases, ensuring that those in immediate need receive swift attention. This balance between immediate care for urgent cases and systematic scheduling for regular check-ups or consultations ensures that all patients, regardless of their medical needs, receive the attention they deserve.

The importance of a well-structured appointment system cannot be overstated, especially in a large medical institution like Rush. It acts as the first point of contact between the patient and the healthcare provider. A positive experience at this stage sets the tone for the subsequent stages of treatment and recovery. It builds trust, assures patients of the institution’s efficiency, and most crucially, eases the inherent anxiety that often accompanies medical consultations.

In conclusion, the appointment system at Rush University Medical Center is more than just a scheduling tool; it’s a reflection of the institution’s broader philosophy of patient-first care. By blending technology with empathy, precision with compassion, and efficiency with care, Rush ensures that every patient, irrespective of their health needs, is set on a path to recovery, healing, and well-being.

Rush University Medical Center Specialties

Situated in the heart of Chicago, the Rush University Medical Center stands tall as a testament to the relentless pursuit of medical excellence. Its reputation isn’t just a product of its state-of-the-art facilities or cutting-edge technologies, but a reflection of its diverse specialties that cover almost every aspect of human health.

At the forefront of its specialties is the renowned cardiology department. Recognized nationally for its groundbreaking research and treatments, Rush’s cardiology team addresses complex heart conditions with a combination of traditional practices and innovative techniques, ensuring patients not only receive the best care but also contribute to the evolution of cardiac treatments.

Neurology at Rush is another realm where miracles seem an everyday occurrence. With a multidisciplinary approach, neurologists, neurosurgeons, and researchers collaborate seamlessly to tackle everything from migraines to multiple sclerosis and Parkinson’s. The institution’s investment in advanced imaging technologies provides deeper insights into the brain and nervous system, paving the way for treatments that were once deemed impossible.

Orthopedics, a specialty where precision meets physical rehabilitation, is yet another feather in Rush’s cap. Whether it’s sports injuries, congenital conditions, or age-related orthopedic challenges, the center’s approach is holistic. Every patient undergoes a thorough evaluation, followed by a tailored treatment plan which may encompass surgery, physiotherapy, and even nutritional guidance.

The oncology department at Rush brings hope to thousands every year. Beyond just treating cancers, the focus is on understanding its root causes, its progression, and its impact on the human body. Through clinical trials and research, new treatments are continually being developed, making Rush a beacon of hope for many. Their cancer care doesn’t stop at treatment; it extends to post-treatment support, counseling, and rehabilitation.

These are just glimpses of the myriad specialties at Rush University Medical Center. Each department, from pediatrics to geriatrics, from endocrinology to gastroenterology, thrives on a culture of continuous learning and patient-centric care. Multidisciplinary teams ensure that every aspect of a patient’s health is considered, and the care provided is holistic.

What truly sets Rush apart, however, is its commitment to integrating education, research, and patient care. Being a teaching hospital, it nurtures the next generation of medical professionals, instilling in them values of empathy, dedication, and excellence.

In conclusion, the specialties at Rush University Medical Center aren’t just departments; they are hubs of innovation, care, and hope. Each specialty, while distinct in its focus, shares a common goal: to enhance the quality of life through exceptional medical care. It’s no wonder that when it comes to healthcare in Chicago and beyond, Rush is often the first name that comes to mind.

Rush University Medical Center School of Medicine

Located in the heart of Chicago’s vibrant West Side medical district, Rush University Medical Center School of Medicine has been a cornerstone of medical education, research, and patient care for over a century. As a premier medical institution, it offers prospective physicians an education grounded in both the latest scientific principles and a deep commitment to compassionate patient care.

The School’s history is steeped in a tradition of groundbreaking discoveries and innovative teaching methodologies. Since its inception, the School of Medicine at Rush has been at the forefront of medical advancements, from pioneering research projects to the development of novel treatment modalities. It’s this spirit of innovation that has solidified its reputation within the medical community both nationally and internationally.

One of the distinctive attributes of the Rush University Medical Center School of Medicine is its emphasis on integrating rigorous academic instruction with hands-on clinical training. The school boasts state-of-the-art facilities, which provide students with the opportunity to practice their skills in real-world settings. These facilities, coupled with its affiliation with the wider Rush University Medical Center, mean students are exposed to a diverse range of medical cases and patient demographics, enriching their educational experience.

Furthermore, the institution places a strong emphasis on holistic medical training. Recognizing that modern medicine requires more than just clinical acumen, the school fosters an environment where students develop a deep sense of empathy, ethics, and community responsibility. Various outreach programs, community clinics, and volunteer opportunities allow students to connect with the larger Chicago community, addressing not just individual medical concerns but also broader public health challenges.

Research is another pillar of the institution. The school is home to numerous research centers and institutes dedicated to various fields of medicine. Here, students have the opportunity to work alongside seasoned professionals on pioneering projects, often leading to breakthroughs in their respective fields.

Furthermore, the School of Medicine emphasizes interprofessional education, allowing students to collaborate with peers from other disciplines within the healthcare sector. This approach ensures that its graduates are well-prepared to work in today’s increasingly complex and collaborative healthcare environment.

In terms of faculty, Rush University Medical Center School of Medicine prides itself on its team of world-class educators and clinicians. These professionals bring a wealth of experience and knowledge to the classroom, ensuring students receive a comprehensive and up-to-date education.

In conclusion, the Rush University Medical Center School of Medicine is more than just a medical school; it’s a community of scholars, clinicians, and students united by a shared vision of improving healthcare outcomes. Through its innovative curricula, emphasis on research, and commitment to community engagement, the institution continues to shape the next generation of medical professionals equipped to tackle the healthcare challenges of the 21st century.

https://www.informationhospital.com/rush-university-medical-center-address-doctors-appointment-specialties-school-of-medicine/

[audisive]

♪ LET THE LIGHT IN.

౨ৎ simon 'ghost' riley | reader

synopsis: the mixture of love and hate is a dangerous, but ghost is no stranger to danger.

tags: angst, little bit of comfort, enemies to lovers (?), ghost is a blind bastard as well as stupid, mention of being suicidal (but not really), hate is mistaken for love, mention of unconsented touching

     Hate is a familiar word, ever the old friend. Strong and heavy. It's what fuels him and keeps him going – his strength, both a blessing and a curse. Hate, hate, hate. Ghost hates you; you drive him to hell and back with your word until the thin line between hospitality and hostility blurs and he steps over the other.

There's an old red monster that constantly crawls under his skin, corrupting his brain and his heart. Hatred consumes him at the sight of you. Ghost hates you. At least that's what he thinks.

Fleeting gazes are mistaken for heated glares, tensed jaw an unbreakable habit. There's a fire in his loins when your eye catches his at the right time. Ghost's heart speeds up because you make his blood pressure rise. His guts are twisted and turned to your accommodation without knowing, you're in his thoughts constantly because you're so awful.

Love and hate is black and white, color him blind. There's a fine line between the opposites, and he's ambivalent about you.

Of course he respects you; you're his teammate, – a remarkable one, at that – and he will trust you with his life and his heart in your hands, but as much as possible, he would prefer not having to.

Maybe ye're just no' inta women, LT. It's not that he hasn't considered it; can't help that he stares a little too long at anyone with bright blue eyes as engrossing as— Fuckin' 'ell, Johnny. Or perhaps his own were too dull, too icy, too bland. He lacked his sergeant's passion for nearly everything. A'm just pullin' yer leg.

Oh, but how Simon loves you.

Simon is familiar to you the same way the desert is familiar with the scorching heat of the sun, and despite how it warms you, kisses and burns and scars you, you miss every bit of it – the way he hurts you comfortingly. Loving him feels like snow meeting sand, – unfamiliar and impossible – but if snow can fall on the hottest desert, then who are you to be exempt?

Acknowledging the difference between love and hate is one, admitting that he doesn't feel the other way for you is another. It's not love; you're just part of the team. He repeats the mantra when his fist collides with the face of a man who made the mistake of touching you despite your lack of consent.

Your knuckles are split, sir. He repeats it to himself again when he's forced to sit with his thigh pressed to yours and feels the warmth of your skin against his. I can take care of m'self next time, Ghost.

I know, kid. It's not love. Not when he hushes you instead of yelling and barking orders at you as you bleed out on the floor of the warehouse. "Ghost," you plead for your life, weeping and gasping for air. Your voice breaks. His heart does, too. "I know, lovie. I know." It's not love. Not when he carries you singlehandedly in and out of the chopper, rushing to the medical ward before you can even lose consciousness. Not when he tends to the knife on your side before the bullet in his.

"Sure, the lieutenant isn't much for words, but the way he looks at you..." The knowledgeable (or maybe she just likes gossip) nurse trails off, searching for the right words in the back of her mind. "It's like there's no one else in the world but you – no, actually, he looks at you as if you're the world itself – he looks at you like a god, his. In a way that guarantees anyone that he'd live and repeat the horrors of this life in his next, just for you. And I've never seen him look at anyone like.. that. But now, I see him looking at you. Everyday."

She smiles at you, kind enough to continue. "Don't you think you deserve that kind of dedication? The kind that makes you feel like you're the center of someone's universe?"

You find yourself stunned by her words, your lips parting in the slightest manner. Speechless. She finds more words in your silence. "'Cause I think you do. You do deserve that," she smiles at you knowingly, as if she'd read your fate – as if the stars had told her all there is to know, "and something tells me he could give you exactly that." She's sure of it. 

But Simon is only the ghost of a Ghost. He's fleeting, a glance, a graze, and a kiss.

Too early, too much, not enough, too late. He'd used up every excuse like a box of tissues until he had none, until he'd been left high and dry, until he had no choice but to admit it: he's in love with you in a way that is looked down upon. Desperately, longingly, and horribly so.

If your love was a noose, then Simon is a suicidal man. He wants your love to dig into the skin of his neck, and please take his breath away.

The image of you leaving was embedded into his brain, the same way he had burned the image of you into his mind long ago. His tongue dries with the words and pleads of love, but he thinks he doesn't. So he doesn't. He wants to call out to you – say something that might cause you to pause and turn around, maybe take him with you – but the words don't come, and you leave, taking his heart with you. 

There's a longing that aches beneath his chest, an empty space.

All of the words in the world will not change the reality that he pushed himself into. Life has moved on without the two of you. He has so many things to tell you, but now is not the time.

He calls for your name.

Your breath hitches at his voice before you speak, "good night, lieutenant." You open a barrier between you and him just as you open the door, taking a step out of the seemingly unlived small apartment. His chest is unmoving as an unfamiliar feeling shoots through his veins. He should say something, anything. Say something, bastard.

With lowered pride, his mouth opens just a second too late. He hears the door click shut.

It never will be.

  divider by @cafekitsune !

[thatchickwiththecamera]

If I'm There

This is from a request sent to me by @lma1986

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Female Reader

TW: Death, Loss, Grief.  

Any and all feedback is appreciated!

Y/N groaned upon entering the hotel room and flung her body onto the crisply made king sized bed. The pelican case she had been holding was discarded somewhere along her journey. Noah, her boyfriend of two years, simply smiled at her antics as he rolled their remaining bags into the entryway. 

Noah’s band, Bad Omens, had just wrapped up their latest North American tour with a four day run of shows across central and eastern Canada. Y/N was a member of the band’s visuals team and worked as the lighting and video technician alongside Matt at Front of House. Her and Noah met four years ago when she was running visuals for one of the bands supporting Bad Omens on tour. 

Noah, Matt, and Nicholas liked her work and decided to extend an offer to join their growing team prior to the next tour. After two years of working with Bad Omens and two years of tip-toeing around shared feelings, Noah finally asked her on a date and as they say, the rest is history. 

With this tour coming to a close, it meant that they had the next two weeks off to do whatever they wanted before the guys had to be back in Los Angeles to finish tracking the new album. Everyone was scheduled to fly back to their respective home states at various times throughout the next day. While all of the gear was to be freighted back to the LA to either be stored in the warehouse until the next tour or to be moved into the awaiting studio space for recording. 

“I am so ready to sleep in my own bed,” She exclaimed, voice slightly muffled by the pillows. “I think the mattresses in the bunks are getting worse with each tour.”

“Either that or we’re just finally starting to feel older.” he said, flopping down next to her, “I mean, we are almost thirty.” 

“Don’t remind me.” She groans.

Before she can raise the question of who gets first dibs at the shower, she is interrupted by the familiar sound of her sister’s ringtone chirping from the phone in the front pocket of her hoodie. 

“Yellow!” She tiredly exclaims, placing the phone on speaker. 

“Y/N” the serious tone of her sister's voice cuts through the speaker. 

She immediately sits up and looks over at Noah, now sporting a concerned look on his face that she was sure matched her own. 

Her sister rarely called her by her first name. Mainly using childhood nicknames. Never her given name. 

“What’s wrong?” Y/N questions. 

“Y/N…it's Olivia.” Her sister continued, voice shaky. “There’s been an accident.”

She went on to explain that Olivia, Y/N’s best friend since as long as she could remember, had been hit head on by a drunk driver on her way home from dinner with friends from work. She had been rushed to the local trauma center where the medical team had managed to stabilize her but they stated that the next 24 hours were going to be critical. 

Noah was immediately on the phone with Matt, who five minutes later knocked on their door ready to drive them to the airport. 

The small airport chapel was dark and empty. The smell of incense lingered in the air from a Mass held earlier in the day. Y/N sat quietly in the last pew staring up at the large crucifix hanging on the wall above the altar and tabernacle. 

Despite eventually developing a vehement disinterest in organized religion as an adult, Y/N had been raised in the Bible Belt of the deep south and had grown up in and out of church as a child and young adult. She had witnessed and experienced enough over the course of her life that made her unable to completely let go of the notion that there was a greater power at play somewhere in the universe. 

Her grandmother always expressed belief in the power of prayer and when her usual sage advice fell on the deaf ears of a stubborn teenager, she always told Y/N to ultimately pray about it. 

“Give it up to God,” she would say, “Put it in his hands.” 

There were no direct flights out of Toronto, which left them stuck at JFK in New York City for the next three hours due to a layover. Noah’s many years on the road made it possible for him to sleep pretty much anywhere despite his tall frame. But her anxiety prevented her from finding any respite of sleep on the uncomfortable metal chairs outside the gate. 

Which is why she now found herself sitting in the Our Lady of the Skies chapel talking to a wooden crucifix. 

“I don’t know how to talk to you or if you even are actually there and listening,” She states, eyes stinging from the tears that threatened to form, “But at this point I’m desperate.”

“If there is one person in this lifetime that deserves to live a long and fulfilling life it is her,” she continued, “she can be one of the most naive people I know, but she has only ever brought kindness and love into this world because of it.” 

“You’ve already taken so many from me…,” she pleads, unable to hold back the tears as a few escape and trail down her cheeks. “Please don’t take her too.” 

A moment later she felt the warmth of an arm wrap around her and turned to see Noah sit down next to her, their carry-ons bags sitting on the floor in the aisle next to the pew. 

She buried her face in his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, placed a tender kiss on her head and held her close as she finally let the tears pour out. 

Upon landing in South Carolina, Y/N's sister met them at baggage claim. She looked as tired and spread thin as Y/N did. She knew just how much Olivia meant to her little sister, and also considered her a good friend. But her bond of friendship was no wear near as unbreakable as the one that had been built between Olivia and Y/N over the years.

She wrapped Y/N up into a tight hug and let her know that Olivia had been rushed back into emergency surgery about an hour before they had landed. They had found internal bleeding that was previously missed due to the severity of the initial trauma sustained in the crash, causing her previously stable condition to quickly deteriorate. 

Upon arriving at Columbia Memorial Hospital, they quickly located Olivia’s parents in the waiting room outside the Intensive Care Unit. Olivia’s mother, Mary grabbed Y/N in a  bone crushing hug the second she saw her, thanking them for coming as quickly as they did. She followed the band and knew the journey they had made to be there. Before they could speak further, a man dressed in surgical scrubs emerged from the large bay door. She felt Noah take her hand and give it a squeeze.

Mary walked over to the doctor. He grabbed her hands and shook his head. Y/N couldn’t hear the words he spoke, but Mary’s reaction to them told her all she needed to know. 

Olivia was gone.

Y/N felt numb. She felt her emotions shut down. She wanted to cry, to scream, to fall to her knees but her body just remained frozen in place for what felt like an eternity. Noah’s hand never left hers and his grip never faltered.

They briefly expressed their condolences to Mary and other member’s of their family before leaving them space to grieve. There was no reason for them to stay at the hospital while Mary began the heartbreaking task of preparing for her only child’s funeral. 

The drive to her sister’s house was silent. She showed Y/N and Noah to the guest room and left them to unpack and prepare for bed. 

Y/N found little sleep that night. As sunlight began to stream in through the bedroom window, she turned to peer at the clock on the nightstand. 

It read 6:00am. She quietly rose so as not to disturb Noah’s sleeping form in the bed next to her. She quickly dressed, grabbed her sneakers, and headed out the front door. 

Y/N ran. 

She ran until her lungs felt like broken shards of glass. 

She ran until her legs felt like they were made of jello.

She ran until her feet were numb and weighed heavy like cinder blocks.

In school, she ran after her first heartbreak, she ran when her father died of cancer, she ran when her mother became absent in her own grief leaving her and her sister to fend for themselves, until she would eventually pass as well. 

She ran when all of life's problems seemed to pile up as high as the peaks of Mount Everest and bare down on her shoulders. 

When life didn’t make sense, Y/N ran. 

Olivia had always been the one to run with her. When her own body would grow tired she would remain on the bench at the trailhead of the old high school cross country course, making sure Y/N knew she wasn’t alone. 

But now Olivia was gone and the bench by the trailhead sat empty save for the water bottle Y/N had discarded at the start of her run. She tried to ignore the empty spot as she set out on her second loop. 

As she circled around again she spotted a second water bottle sitting next to hers on the bench. She felt the already growing agitation stir inside her further at the idea of having to interact with a stranger on the course. She prayed they would just run their route and leave her alone. 

Halfway through her third loop she heard the sound of another person coming up from behind her and expected them to call out what side they would be passing her and continue their run. 

Instead the person fell into stride next to her. She turned her head, ready to tell the stranger to politely fuck off, but stopped when she saw Noah running next to her.

He didn’t say anything, just kept running, never leaving her side as they continued to complete two more loops. He knew this was something she had to do, and despite his own fatigue, he wasn’t going to let her do it alone. 

Toward the end of her fifth loop, she felt her legs start to give way. Her toes snagged on a root sticking up in the middle of the path and she waited for her body to hit the dirt. She thought that maybe she would just lay there for a while and let the earth swallow her whole, but the impact never came. 

Instead she felt Noah wrap his arms around her. Pulling her firmly into his chest. The weight of everything she tried to hold inside started to fracture and crumble around her. The emotion she tried to run from rebounded back like a lightning bolt striking her directly in the heart. She thrashed against his hold and hit the bottom of her fists against his chest. 

She screamed out in rage as the hot tears streamed down her face. But despite her best attempts at getting him to let go, his hold remained firm. Noah was sure that his chest was red by the time she finally relaxed in his arms. He took the opportunity to kneel down and scooped the sobbing figure of the woman he loved into his arms. She didn’t have the energy to protest as he carefully carried her home. 

The funeral took place four days later. It was held at St. Joseph's Cathedral downtown where four generations of Olivia’s family had been baptized, confirmed, married, and eulogized. She could not deny that the Mass her family prepared had been beautiful despite Y/N not knowing much about the ways and traditions of the Catholic Church. 

After the service, Mary came up to the both of them and thanked them again for traveling back like they did and for staying for the service. 

“You were the closest thing Olivia had to a sister and even though it may not have seemed like it at times, you were and still are like my second child.” She stated. “Thank you for being her friend and being in our lives.” 

Tears once again formed in her eyes as Mary pulled her in for one of her soul squeezing motherly hugs that Y/N learned to cherish over the years. 

“I love you so much” she said, reaching up to grab either side of Y/N’s face, wiping away the tears with the pads of her thumbs. “And I am so proud of you.”

“I love you too.” Y/N replied, before hugging the woman once again. 

The next day they were scheduled to fly back to LA, but not before visiting Olivia’s grave. It was covered in layers of floral arrangements and marked by a temporary placard with ‘Olivia Renee Barber” and her dates of birth and death engraved on dark metal. 

Noah stayed back as Y/N paid her respects. He wished that he could take all of her grief and carry it on his own shoulders so she didn’t have to weather the burden. He knew from his own experiences that she had to go through this process at her own pace. Loss was not linear and there were no magical boxes to check as you grieve and heal.

There was one thing he knew for absolute certain. As long as he was around, she would never go through anything in this world alone. He’d be there to catch her when she’d fall and just as he knew she’d do the same for him in return.

[drarryspecificrecs]

2023.11 ~ Top 5 longest fics posted on AO3

1. Seagulls Cause Storms, or the Essence of Chaos by @writandromance [M, 311k]

►Alternate universes never seem as real as our own. Draco felt no differently. He never questioned whether, in a far-off knot of space, he started hating Harry Potter at eleven and never stopped. All he knew was that here and now, it was unthinkable not to love him. /// This is Draco’s story from eleven to seventeen, should the flap of a butterfly’s wing change fate just enough to coax him down a different path.

2. Recursion by @tessacrowley [E, 132k]

►A process is recursive when it defines or contains itself; e.g., the Fibonacci sequence, which determines the next number as the sum of the previous two. But not all recursive processes are mathematical. Recursion can happen in a temporal context when, for instance, the powerful magical force that is true love drags you back in time so it can create itself, endangering the fate of the Wizarding World—not to mention the very fabric of space and time—along the way.

3. Christmas Courting by Kai_Embers [M, 87k]

►‘Christmas Courting’ or ‘Yuletide Courting’ is an ancient ritual that many Pure-blood wizards - and all members of the Sacred 28 - go through when choosing their intended. [...] Draco has no family, limited prospects and a legacy he needs to live up to, so on the 1st of December his name is published on the Christmas Courting list with Blaise backing him through the process as suiters vie for his hand. The Malfoy name is still worth something in the right circles.

4. Strand's Seven Stars by @shewhomustnotbenamed [E, 83k]

►Draco seeks out the help of a detective who is known for his discretion. Despite rocky introductions, Draco and the detective, Harry Potter, become friends as Draco is forced to share very personal information that reveals more about himself than he would have ever admitted to under any other circumstance. Fortunately, Harry is not only understanding of Draco's sexual preferences but encourages him to keep doing what he loves--perhaps with Harry himself.

5. give me touch (‘cause I’ve been missing it) by yaz113 [E, 65k]

►Harry Potter is living the life he'd always dreamed about, happily married to his childhood sweetheart, Ginny Potter née Weasley and playing as the star seeker of the Montrose Magpies. One minor quidditch accident and one trip to the medical center later, Harry finds himself under the spell of Team Healer Draco Malfoy, inadvertently putting his dream life at risk.

—

※ Word count: 1k ~ 10k

※ Word count: 10k ~ 40k

change on the fly by @legen-wait-for-it-drarry [T, 30k]

the earth from a distance by @andthepeople [E, 15k]

The end is renown by @onehundredflamingos [E, 21k]

Falling For U by mik_exe [T, 13k]

The Hierophant by @hsvh-hp [M, 29k]

I Remember You... But It Wasn't Really You by @nakyrah [M, 32k]

Obliviate by ScarletTokugawa [T, 12k]

People You Know by Zoythren [M, 30k]

Rush by @mono-chromia [E, 10k]

Starting Over by Justlikewriting [M, 19k]

—

Ongoing Fest/Exchange

※ Fics would be listed elsewhere.

Harry/Draco Career Fair 2023 | @hd-fan-fair​

HD Sudsfest Lite 2023 | @hdsudsfest

HP No Nut November 2023 | @knot-your-mothers-mods

Sugarfest | @hpsugarfest

Shadows and Spells

[gejo333]

A Misunderstanding V

Father Miguel O’Hara x Mother Spider Reader

-> Pt. I -> Epilogue

Summary: Miguel finds out you were shot from a robbery gone wrong as he races to you in hope that you are still alive.

So if you read my last post. I said I would only post one more chapter for this series. I lied😅. I am going to write one last chapter for “A Misunderstanding.”

I apologize for any grammatical mistakes.

Enjoy!💕

Wc: 3.4k

____________________________________________

Miguel’s heart raced against his chest. His stomach felt like it was in his throat. He felt sick. You were shot. His mind raced to the worst thoughts, seeing your lifeless body when he arrived at the scene.

When the anchor said you got shot, he rushed out the door. Luckily he could be in his suit within seconds as he sprinted out of the bedroom window and swinged as fast as he could to the mall downtown.

His heart raced a mile a minute as it rang in his ears. He just got you back. He just got his family back. He couldn’t lose it after having it only for a few days. You couldn’t leave Mateo a motherless child. You couldn’t leave him.

Miguel smashed through a window from a department store as he made his way toward the scene. On his way, he saw people hiding, some injured from gunshot wounds. But he needed to get to you first. He needed to see if you were still alive.

As he turned the corner, he saw you holding your shoulder with your hand. Relief washed over him. Seeing that you were alive and standing. But seeing blood dripping from your shoulder down your arm made him livid.

You didn’t notice Miguel as you were focused on the gunman informing of you. You had shot a web towards his gun, sticking it to the wall behind him, but not before you were shot in the shoulder. It was painful, but relief washed over you when the bullet didn’t hit anywhere vital. The thoughts of Mateo swirled in your mind. What were you thinking of coming here? You just thought it was a simple robbery at the mall bank. But it wasn’t, and you were very close to having Mateo grow up without you.

Your mind returned to focus when you saw Miguel tackle the gunman before the guy could pull a second gun. The gun went off, which made you panic.

“Miguel!” You screamed as dread washed over you. You saw Miguel move the second gun from the gunman as he tied the man up. Miguel stood up as he breathed out. He was surprised by you as you tackled him to the ground in a hug.

"Y/n." Miguel sat up as he wrapped you in a tight embrace, making you wince. He quickly moved you away from his hold as he looked at your injured shoulder. The wound wasn’t in a fatal area. But the amount of blood seeping from you staining your suit, made him worry. He picked you up bridal style and carried you away.

“What about the gunman?”

“I broke the guns, and he’s tied up. The police and medics are on their way there. My focus is on you.” Once you both left the mall, Miguel opened a portal to HQ.

Arriving at HQ, Miguel went straight to the medical center, where a spider nurse took you both to a bed. It had only been a few minutes, and Miguel was growing agitated. With your good arm, you placed your hand in his and squeezed it to help calm him down.

“I’m alright, Miguel. Once the bullets are out, my healing will kick in. I’ll be completely fine in a few hours.”

“Where is the damn doctor,” Miguel growled out loud.

“Miguel.” You slightly tugged at his hand to make him look at you. His stern gaze softened when his gaze fell upon you. A sigh escaped his lips as he cupped your cheek. He rubbed his thumb against your cheek.

“I was scared, cariño. I thought the worst happened to you.” You leaned into his touch as you placed your hand over his.

“I’m sorry I worried you. I didn’t realize the robbery would escalate like that.”

“You should have woken me up. I would have gone with you.”

“I know. But I thought I could handle it.”

“Y/n, you are a very talented Spiderwoman. The best one out of all the universes. I knew you could easily beat me in a fight if you wanted to. But it has been a while since you’ve been Spiderwoman. And Im saying this in the best way possible, mi amor, but you haven’t fought a villain in a long time. If you want to be Spiderwoman again, which I know you do, you must train again at HQ. But it’s not just us anymore. We have Mateo.”

“You’re right. It has been a long time. I shouldn’t have risked my safety like that. I should have asked you to come. For Mateo’s sake. If the villain comes again, I’ll ensure you are with me.” Your words brought relief to Miguel’s face. He was about to lean down to kiss your lips lovingly. However, the curtain pulled back with the spider doctor right behind.

“I see you- oh, sir! I’m sorry if I was interrupting anything.” Said the doctor, becoming slightly nervous when he noticed his boss.

“It’s fine. You should have been here sooner.” Miguel scolded the doctor. You internally chuckle at Miguel’s protectiveness over you.

“Sorry, sir. Now here is a bit of numbing so you don’t feel any pain when I take the bullet out.” The doctor picked up the needle and pressed it against your shoulder. You hissed from the pain of the needle directly against your wound. Miguel held your hand and gave you a love squeeze as he kissed your head to help ease the pain. You smiled up at him and sighed in relief when the pain subsided, the drug already taking effect.

The doctor took the large tweezers and grabbed the bullet from your shoulder. It felt weird with the tweezers and the bullet moving inside you, but luckily, you didn’t feel any pain.

“There we go. All done. You should be fully healed by morning. Try to sleep on your back tonight.” The doctor patted you before throwing the syringe and bloody clothes in the hazardous bin.

“Thank you.” You say as you stand up from the medical bed. As you walk out of the medical center, you bump into Jess.

“Omg! Y/n, are you ok?” Asked Jess as she came to your side.

“A gunshot wound from a shooting. It’s nothing.” You reassure her.

“It’s not nothing.” Huffed Miguel as he gave you a soft glare.

“It was a robbery gone wrong at a mall. And I went on my own.” You nervously smile when you see Jess’ disapproval reaction.

“Y/n... that wasn’t safe. You should have had Miguel go with you.”

“Yeah...Miguel already lectured me about it at the medical center.” You lightly chuckle before going on your toes to kiss Miguel on the cheek to make him less grumpy at you, which happily worked when you saw his lips twitch into a small smile. You felt your phone buzz. When you checked to see who it was, all the blood on your face drained.

Shit. It was your sister.

“Shoot. My sister has been calling and texting me. She must have seen the news. We have to go, Miguel. Mateo must be freaking out.” Your worried look reflected off on Miguel as you both said goodbye to Jess before opening a portal back to your apartment.

You both got out of your suits and back into casual clothing before entering your apartment to see your sister sitting on the couch, staring at the tv playing the news. When she noticed you walk in, Nora shot off the sofa before bear-hugging you. You hissed in pain from her hug, which she moved back, sorry etched on her face.

“Thank god you are safe! They said you got shot! But they wouldn’t say anything else! And you weren’t picking up any of my calls or texts. I thought you were dead!”

“I’m sorry for worrying you. Is Mateo alright? Did he hear anything?”

“No, he doesn’t know anything. I told him you were running errands and would return soon.” Nora’s response brought relief to your mind. You were relieved that Mateo wasn’t traumatized. You rush to his room, where you see him play with his toy cars.

“Momma!” Mateo dropped his toys and ran into your arms as you picked him up, holding him tight against you.

“Hi, sweetie.” You kissed his head and cheek as you hugged your son tighter. Tears brimmed your eyes as the fear of leaving your child alone is the worse thing you could imagine.

“Momma, why are you crying?” Mateo looked at you with his big brown puppy eyes and pout on his face, now sad that his mom was tearing up. You quickly wiped your tears and smiled to show him you were alright.

“Oh, I’m alright. I just missed you so much.”

“I missed you too!” Mateo wrapped his arms around your neck in a hug. With Mateo in your arms, you walked back into the living room, where you saw Miguel leaning against the kitchen counter with a cup of coffee. When he saw you, he set it down and walked over to his family.

“Where did Nora go?”

“Some work emergency pulled her away. She said she would talk to you tomorrow.” He wrapped an arm around your waist and kissed your cheek.

“Eww.” Mateo giggled as he scrunched up his nose. Both you and Miguel smiled at your son’s childish attitude.

“Aww, papito, I’m only telling Mamma I love her.” Said Miguel as he gently ruffled his son’s hair. You smiled and kissed Miguel’s cheek.

“Eww! Mamma!” Mateo giggled.

“Like your papa said, I’m just showing that I love him. Like I love you.” You then place a kiss on Mateo’s cheek, which makes him giggle. Miguel then kissed Mateo’s cheek and began to tickle him, which filled the room with Mateo’s laughter.

Your heart melted at the sight. You wanted to remember this moment forever, and you wanted to have more like this one.

Mateo began to wiggle out of your arms, so you decided to set him down. Mateo then ran off into his room to go play with his toys. You turned back to Miguel, and your heart swooned at the sight. You had never seen him this happy, making you smile just as brightly.

You took a deep breath. The butterflies in your stomach reappeared, suddenly nervous around Miguel. Knowing you so well, Miguel picked up on it as he wrapped his arms around you and cupped your cheek.

“Qué es mi amor?” Miguel’s gaze scanned your face, trying to figure out what you wanted to tell him.

“Do you want to move in? I know it’s sudden since it’s only been a week since coming back into each other’s lives, but it’s been a great week. Mateo is so happy to have his father in his life, and I’m happy you are here too. But if it’s too sudden, you don’t-” Miguel interrupted your tangent with a kiss. You felt him smile against your lips which made you pull away, curious as to what he thought about your suggestion.

“Of course, I want to live with you and Mateo. You both are my world, and I can’t imagine not living in it.” His words made you so happy as your cheeks turned pink, and you smiled at him.

“Guess what, Mateo?” You said out loud, which perked your five your old’s interest as he ran out of his room.

“Yeah?”

“Papa’s moving in.”

“Yay!” Mateo yelled joyfully as he ran into his father’s arms. Miguel easily scooped him up and hugged him.

...

It had been a month and a half since you asked Miguel to move in, and it’s been amazing. You had gotten into a nice routine with your family.

In the mornings, you’d wake up to Miguel making breakfast, or he would wake you up at the ungodly morning hours to help train you back to being Spiderwoman. Though you never were a morning person who could wake up at 4:30 like your boyfriend, you did enjoy the showers you would take together after working out. Some mornings when Miguel was tired from monitoring the multiverse and being Spiderman, you could convince him that you would make breakfast, even though you would still hear him grumble across the kitchen counter, saying he should be making it since you do so much already.

After getting ready, the three of you would walk Mateo to school. After saying your goodbyes, you and Miguel would go to Spider HQ. You decided to quick your journalist job since it paid less and you didn’t enjoy it anymore. So you went full-time at Spider HQ. It was a way better job. The pay was better, better benefits; you got to be Spiderwoman, and best of all, you got to work beside Miguel all day.

It was nice being back at HQ, especially now that there are many more spiders. Six years ago, there weren’t that many, so your social circle was small, only including Miguel, Jess, and Peter B. But now your social circle was massive! It’s dwindle a bit, only because many spiders were interested at first in finding out that Miguel had a girlfriend since they only believed their boss was very aloof and angry. However, since you’ve been around, some spiders have told you that he has been a lot nicer to be around.

You did become close friends with a few rebellious spiders, which Miguel was initially annoyed by. Even in a short time, you’ve become a big sister/mother to Gwen, Hobie, and Pavitr. Even Miguel has acted like a father figure with the young spiders. Still, he would never admit it to anyone except you in private.

Your days at HQ usually consisted of training with Miguel, going on small missions, or helping with monitoring the multiverse. You would force Miguel to take a break and eat lunch with you on breaks. If he couldn’t remove himself from the screen, you would grab food with the young spiders and bring him food after your break.

When it was time to pick up Mateo, you and Miguel went to pick him up. At first, it was only you since Miguel had to reorganize his schedule so that Jess could have more leadership at HQ so that he could be with his family. When your little family was back together, you would spend time together by going to the park and then going back home for dinner.

On the weekends, you would have small family trips after Mateo’s soccer practice. You would either go to the beach or adventure somewhere in the city. And every other weekend, Mateo would go to your sisters so you and Miguel could go on a date and spend the night together without worrying about being a parent for the night.

You loved your little routine, not wanting a single thing to change.

“Go, Mateo!” You cheer on your son, kicking the ball down the field. In the past month since he started playing, he has improved. Well, to you, he did. You were his mother, after all.

“Here, Cariño.” Miguel passed you a bottle of water that he went to go buy from the nearest corner store.

“Thank you, Miggy.” You kissed his cheek as thanks before taking a sip of your water.

“How are you feeling now?” His eyebrows scrunched slightly as his lips put in a slight frown, concerned about you.

“The water helps, but I still feel pretty under the weather. I’m sure it’s nothing. I bet I’ll be fine in the morning.” You took his hand and gave him a love squeeze to ease his worries.

“I’m sure you will be.” He kissed your forehead as he smiled down at you before the two of you continued to watch your son kick around the ball with his teammates. After watching five-year-olds try to play soccer for another 30 minutes, the kids return to their parents.

“Did you see me kick the ball into goal?” Mateo yelled as he ran towards you and Miguel.

"Fuiste increíble, Papito!" Miguel picked up Mateo. Miguel has been speaking more Spanish to Mateo for the past few weeks to teach him, which you loved. Miguel had taught you Spanish when you first started dating. However, you weren’t really fluent. So you were happy that your son was learning to speak it.

Your smile quickly disappeared when you felt a sudden surge of nausea consume you. You rushed to the park restroom and into a stall as you hurled your guts into the toilet. The door to the bathroom slammed open as you heard someone come into your stall. You felt your hair gently pulled behind you to not get vomit on it as you felt Miguel kneel next to you.

“Mi amor, are you alright? Are you feeling ok?” Miguel rubbed your back to make you feel better as you hurled into the toilet. You leaned away from the toilet when you felt you wouldn’t puke again as you placed your hand on your chest to control your breathing. Miguel quickly grabbed a few tissues as he gently wiped your face. Your heart melted at his gesture. By how vast the multiverse was, how did you find such an amazing man?

“I’m fine. It must be a stomach bug or something. Thank you.” You blow him an air kiss since you just hurled your guts out.

“Of course.” Miguel rubbed your back as you stood up and went to tidy yourself up by the sink.

“Wait! Where’s Mateo?” Panic rose in your face as you turned to Miguel.

“I asked Georgia to keep an eye on him.” Relief washed over you when Miguel reassured you that Mateo was fine. However, your stomach sat unsettled as the thought of your son made another thought pop into your head.

You both walked out of the bathroom towards the soccer field with the group of parents and kids.

“Hey, Georgia! Thank you so much for watching him.” You thanked her as Mateo ran into your arms.

“Of course! Hope everything ok?” Georgia asked, slightly concerned. Over the past month, Mateo and Simon have become good friends, and so have you and Georgia. At first, you bonded over your annoyance with Emily and her posse, but you both learned you have some things in common.

“Yeah! I’m good. Just something I ate, probably.”

“Well, feel better! See you at drop off on Monday!” Said Georgia before you, and Miguel said your goodbyes before you went on your way back home.

Before entering the apartment, you gently grabbed Miguel’s bicep to stop him. He turned to you, brows furrowed, curious for the sudden stop.

“I need to make a quick stop at the corner store.” The three of you walked into the store as Miguel followed you to your destination with Mateo in his arms. You stopped right in front of the pregnancy tests. You looked up at Miguel, who looked back at you with eyes slightly wide.

“Do you think?” He asked.

“Maybe. I am two days late on my period. And there might have been a chance I missed a pill.” You bit your lip as you picked up your desired brand and went to pay for it.

After returning to the apartment, you quickly walk to the bathroom. Doing the deed, you know pace back and forth in your bedroom while waiting for the test results. The alarm on your phone startled you as you pressed the button on your phone for it to stop. You look at Miguel as he stands beside you, also nervous.

Going over to your nightstand, you pick up the test as the both of you sit on the bed.

Pregnant

You were pregnant again. You look over to Miguel, who looks back at you. Your heart banged against your chest, eager to know his answer. A wide toothy grin appeared on his face, showing his dimples as his reddish brown hues were filled with so much love and joy.

A smile spread across your face as tears brimmed in your eyes. Miguel cupped your cheek and placed a loving kiss on your lips. You kissed him again before separating as Miguel said, “Guess we need to find a bigger apartment.”

____________________________________________

Hope you enjoyed it!💕

Tag List

@theprettyarachnid

@crowleysthings

@gryffinclawstuff

@toaffes

@miggyyyyohara

[eretzyisrael]

By Diana Bletter

In a world first, researchers at the Hebrew University have discovered a distinct cellular pathway in the brain that indicates markers for future onset of Alzheimer’s disease, some 20 years before symptoms would be exhibited. This early detection could eventually lead to a treatment to prevent the degenerative disease.

“The study shows that Alzheimer’s disease is not just a form of accelerated aging but follows a different cellular path,” said Prof. Naomi Habib, and PhD students Anael Cain and Gilad Green of Hebrew University, who led the team of researchers at Columbia, Harvard University, and Rush Medical Center in Chicago.

Now that research has found the “molecular markers,” she said, “we can predict if an individual is on the cellular path to healthier aging, or a path to Alzheimer’s.”The video player is currently playing an ad.

This discovery will help lead toward appropriate treatments.

“We now believe we know what’s driving the disease, but we need to prove that changing the response would reverse that,” she said.

Using a data set from the prefrontal cortex of 437 aging brains, the researchers mapped 1.65 million brain cells and showed that these cellular changes — that start at least 20 years before the first signs of dementia — determine the fate of the aging brain and the progression of Alzheimer’s Disease.

The study was published last month in the peer-reviewed scientific journal Nature.

[btsuga-d]

Can You See Me || Chapter I ʚɞ

↬ ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ

𝚂𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚘𝚢𝚜, 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚝. 𝙸𝚜𝚎𝚞𝚕'𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚊𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖, 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚜𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍, 𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚕𝚕. 𝙴𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚞𝚖𝚞𝚕𝚝𝚞𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚝, 𝚊 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚞𝚖𝚊 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎. 𝚆𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝙸𝚜𝚎𝚞𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚊𝚕𝚕, 𝚘𝚛 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚜?

↬ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ

𝙳𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝙼𝚒𝚗 𝚈𝚘𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚒 𝚡 𝙱𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝙾𝙲!𝙻𝚎𝚎 𝙸𝚜𝚎𝚞𝚕

↬ ᴛʀᴀɪʟᴇʀ

➤ 𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚔

↬ ɢᴇɴʀᴇ

𝙼𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎, 𝙳𝚊𝚛𝚔, 𝙰𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝, 𝙼𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚝, 𝙿𝚜𝚢𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕, 𝚁𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎, 𝚂𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚕, 𝙷𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚛, 𝙸𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎, 𝙰𝚄, 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚕, 𝙺𝚒𝚖 𝚂𝚎𝚘𝚔𝚓𝚒𝚗!𝙳𝚘𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛, 𝙼𝚒𝚗 𝚈𝚘𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚒!𝙿𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚝, 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝙹𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚗!𝙿𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚝, 𝙺𝚒𝚖 𝚃𝚊𝚎𝚑𝚢𝚞𝚗𝚐!𝙿𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚝, 𝙹𝚎𝚘𝚗 𝙹𝚞𝚗𝚐𝚔𝚘𝚘𝚔!𝙿𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚝, 𝙹𝚞𝚗𝚐 𝙷𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚘𝚔!𝙿𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚝, 𝙺𝚒𝚖 𝙽𝚊𝚖𝚓𝚘𝚘𝚗!𝙿𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚝

↬ ᴡᴏʀᴅᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ

3.0ᴋ

↬ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ

𝙼𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚞𝚖𝚊.

↬ ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ

𝙷𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚘 🌸! 𝙷𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚢𝚜𝚖, 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚒𝚝. 𝙸 𝚊𝚖 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜, 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝙸 𝚊𝚖 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚊 𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚔. 𝙻𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚕𝚞𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝. 𝙸 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚊𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚊 𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝙴𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚛, 𝚜𝚘 𝙸 𝚊𝚙𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚒𝚣𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜!

↬ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ ʟɪꜱᴛ - 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘯

ᴍɪɴ ʏᴏᴏɴɢɪ ʟᴇᴇ ɪꜱᴇᴜʟ ᴋɪᴍ ꜱᴇᴏᴋᴊɪɴ ᴋɪᴍ ɴᴀᴍᴊᴏᴏɴ ᴊᴜɴɢ ʜᴏꜱᴇᴏᴋ ᴘᴀʀᴋ ᴊɪᴍɪɴ ᴋɪᴍ ᴛᴀᴇʜʏᴜɴɢ ᴊᴇᴏɴ ᴊᴜɴɢᴋᴏᴏᴋ

↬ ɴᴀᴠɪɢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

ᴘʀᴏʟᴏɢᴜᴇ - ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ʟɪꜱᴛ - ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪɪ

June 9, 2018

“Breaking news: the seven boys who went missing about eight months ago have been found on the outskirts of Incheon. Their condition for the time being remains unknown, but police said they will be immediately transferred to Asan Medical Center. One of them is in a serious state of unconsciousness. We remain awaiting updates.”

I opened my eyes, basking in the light that was hitting my face. I turned my head to the side to check the clock radio. Every morning, the darn thing would treacherously wake me up by making a deafening noise. As if that were not enough, Bomi was always joining in with that little concert, forcing me to bury my head under my pillow.

That morning, however, the din had been replaced by the morning news. Strange, I was sure I had set the alarm clock. I understood why when I focused on the red number that was flashing on the alarm clock: 0:00. The damn thing had broken again. I jerked up throwing the covers in the air, ending up ruinously on the floor. Bomi rushed into the room beginning to bark like a madman. I don't know why, but whenever he heard commotion, he had to do his part. Apparently, he found satisfying to make me lose hearing early in the morning. I would have preferred an ice-cold shower.

"Sssh, Bomi! Good boy..." I tried to calm him down, but the aforementioned dog launched himself at me as I was on the floor. I felt his tongue licking my cheek, and I started laughing like crazy in the middle of the room. He was tickling me.

“Iseul! What are you still doing here!” shrieked my mother.

I quickly got back to my feet, trying to get Bomi off me.

“Sorry, Mom, the alarm clock broke again.”

“But it’s your first day at university. Blessed daughter, how many times have I told you to buy a new alarm clock?”

I didn’t answer her, burying my face in the closet. I took a black pant suit and an old rose-colored blouse, just so I wouldn’t look like a tramp on my first day of university. Usually, my style was very different. I loved wearing ripped jeans over the knee and extra-large sweatshirts. Not forgetting my inseparable converse shoes. But that morning I forced myself to wear an inch or two of heels to make it clear that I was at least 18 years old. I usually looked 15. They would have wondered what a high school girl was doing wandering around the university. To say I would have felt uncomfortable is an understatement.

I moved toward the dresser with Bomi at my heels. That dog wouldn’t leave me for a second. When I had found him six months ago in the middle of the street, he had stuck to me like chewing gum. Needless to say, I had taken him home immediately. My mother’s sermon had been of no avail. That dog and I were destined, I could feel it. And I was never wrong.

I put on some makeup to give myself an even more grown-up look, but contouring my light blue eyes with eyeliner was not at all easy. Already, although I was Korean, my father had English ancestry. My light blue eyes I had inherited from him. For me it was a kind of consolation. Whenever I looked in the mirror, I could feel my father’s gaze through mine. It is strange to say, but I had the feeling that I was looking at him. And I missed him a little less.

Once my makeup was fixed, I gave my hair a quick check. It was certainly the part of me that attracted the most attention. They weren’t black or blond like the other girls. Or maybe I should say just black or blond. One day, my head had expressly forced me to go to the hairdresser and force him to give me dark purple highlights. I say forced because the guy was absolutely against it. According to him, such a look was not for me.

Well, he had to reconsider within a few hours. Not only the purple locks were beautiful to look at, but they went well with my eye color and complexion.

One for me. Zero for the hairdresser.

I turned back to the clock radio. Had I heard right? Those boys had disappeared four months after my father. At the time, that news caused a stir, not least because they had been the only ones to disappear one after the other in a span of barely 11 days. During 2017, exactly 25 people had disappeared in Korea. Among them was my father, who disappeared precisely on June 13.

I was happy that those guys had returned. That gave me the strength to keep hoping.

I lifted my gaze to one of the portraits that papered the walls of my room. My father’s eyes stared back at me. A happy expression, which I had drawn myself, was etched on his smiling face. I smiled too, imagining that at that moment he had that same serene expression wherever he was.

“Iseul,” my mother called me. Apparently, she had noticed what I was staring at. “You’re going to be late, honey.” Her gentle tone let me know that she had caught a glimpse of my slightly glazed eyes. A year had passed, but I still hadn’t been able to move on. Perhaps, I never could.

Before leaving the house to catch the bus, I turned on the threshold to greet my mother. I carefully observed her face. I usually never did this, but that morning I paused to look at her cheeks that were slightly rosy because of the spring day. Her hazel eyes were lightly made up and her black hair shone in the sunlight, stopping at shoulder height. How beautiful she was, my mom.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked, running a hand over her cheeks. “Do I have something on my face?”

I burst out laughing and tucked an unruly wisp behind her ear.

“Can’t I just look at you because I feel like it? Is that forbidden?”

“No, it’s just weird. You usually never do that.” She looked at me with a skeptical expression. “You’re not trying to memorize my face to make a portrait of me, are you?”

I huffed, rolling my eyes. “Even if I were, you know very well I wouldn’t need it. You’re my mother. Besides, I have a photographic memory.”

“Lee Iseul, don’t you dare.”

I burst out laughing again. Mom was perhaps the only portrait painter in the world who hated having her portrait taken. I mean, really? It was like saying she was a hairdresser who hated having her hair done. I didn’t understand the logic.

Yeah, anyway, I’m obsessed with hairdressers today.

“You are really weird.”

“Says the daughter who hates portraying men except for her father.”

Touché, but I wasn’t going to let that get in my way. “Can you blame me? Women have more delicate features. It certainly takes less work.”

“Iseul, go to university. You’re about to miss the bus.”

I turned toward the huge blue and white bus that was approaching the stop. I widened my eyes and quickly threw my arms around my mother’s neck.

“I love you!” I shouted as I let go and picked up the bag I had left on the ground. Bomi tried to attach himself to my leg, but my mother held him by the collar. “Yes, I love you too, Bomi!” I got a few yelps in response.

I rushed to the crowded bus, trying to reach the seats at the back. Of course, they were all occupied. The driver pressed down on the accelerator, and I lurched slightly backward, extending an arm to grab onto one of the yellow metal rings. I aimed my eyes at the little old lady in front of me. She reminded me of my grandmother.

Once I arrived at my stop, about 20 minutes later, I got off the bus, walking down the tree-lined driveway that led to the University gates. It was spring, and cherry tree petals covered the road, blown by the wind. I paused in the middle of the avenue to contemplate the spectacle of colors before my eyes, the contrast of pink and blue sky blending to create a heavenly atmosphere.

I breathed in the spring air and threw my bag over my shoulders again. The myriad faces passing by me made me want to grab my pencil and sketchbook. Too bad about the bad timing. I didn’t have time for such things, and besides, they would have taken me for a fool if I started staring at their faces for no apparent reason.

Or at least that was what I would have done.

Although it wouldn’t have taken me who knows how long. Photographic memory, remember?

I laughed at myself and crossed the entrance to the University. I headed for the graphic arts department, checking the map hanging on the walls over and over again. When it came to finding my way around, I was really good. I could have reached my house even in the dark. Sometimes I felt like I had a compass built into my brain.

Apparently, I wasn’t just good at memorizing people’s faces.

I cut along the courtyard and looked at the clock on my wrist, realizing I was extremely late. Yikes. The bus had taken far too long.

Suddenly, my eyes shifted to the giant screen in the middle of the university courtyard that was broadcasting another breaking news. What the hell was going on today? The conductor’s metallic voice caught the attention of a few students who were heading to class like me.

“Updates from Asan Hospital. In addition to the seven missing boys, the body of a middle-aged man has been found. His identity has not yet been made public, but it is believed that he may be one of the men who went missing last June in Seokgwan-dong district. One of the seven boys helped authorities find the man’s body and…”

My blood froze in my veins. The conductor’s voice grew more and more distant, and an annoying buzz began to eat away at my brain. Tears stung my eyes, I felt my hands shaking convulsively, and a choked sob escaped my lips. I couldn’t breathe. My heart was beating wildly and I could no longer hold back the tears. They began to run down my cheeks as I brought my hands to my mouth to calm the sobs. I kept my eyes fixed on the screen, but the only thing I could see was the fine print: “dead body found.”

My mind collapsed. I turned on my heels and started running like a desperate woman. I didn’t care about the people I ran over on the way. I didn’t care about their grim looks, the people who looked at me as if I were crazy. I was crying and running down the street, but my only thought was to reach that damn hospital as soon as possible. To reach it to make sure it was all a stupid misunderstanding. To assure myself that my doubts could not be founded. That my father could not be dead.

“Seokjin, what the hell happened to you…”

My colleague’s voice rang in my ears as I kept my head down. I had a tremor at hearing that name again. My name. It had been so long since I had heard it. I was well aware that I looked terrifying. I was sitting on a stool in the doctors’ meeting room, my elbows resting on my knees, my gaze on the floor. Tears still wet my face and I could feel my eyebrows twitching to try to send back the ones that were trying to come out. I ran both hands over my face and wrapped them in my damp black hair.

I looked up and saw Jungsun’s pleading eyes. Mine moved to the glass of the window that stood behind him. Raindrops began to tap against the surface, crashing on the transparent pane, almost as if they wanted to shatter it. My heart felt the same way: attacked from the outside, naked and defenseless. Broken into a thousand pieces.

Perhaps because I was too caught up in my own thoughts, Jungsun leaned toward me to hold my hand between his. I immediately denied him that contact, drawing back and making my stool feet crawl against the marble floor. From his expression, I could tell he was somewhat shaken.

“Seokjin, please talk to me. You are a psychologist yourself; you know very well that keeping it all inside will hurt you even more. You must try to think clearly.”

I sneered. I couldn’t help myself.

“I was the only one in there with a clear mind.”

“What?” Jungsun leaned slightly toward my face to better capture my words. My vocal cords were so battered that I couldn’t help but whisper, but I knew he still managed to hear me. “In there where, exactly?” he pressed me; his eyes wide with anticipation.

I didn't answer his question. Suddenly, I felt the need to ask him something.

“The others … Where are they?”

“The others? You mean those guys who were with you?” I nodded, thinking back to each of their faces. “They’ve been hospitalized. Some have bad injuries. You seemed to be the only one who could hold a conversation. One of them is in a coma, the youngest boy. But we are keeping him under observation. We will soon be able to diagnose each one.”

“There’s no time,” I told him as I stood up abruptly, staggering slightly. Jungsun jerked back at my sudden movement and lifted his neck to look at me with wide eyes. I had certainly surprised him. “They cannot stay here. They must be transferred immediately.”

“Transferred where?” he asked doubtfully, then his gaze deepened. “You... You’ve already diagnosed them, haven’t you?” he asked, standing up as well. We were almost the same height, but he had to lift his chin slightly to look me in the eyes.

“They can’t stay here, it’s dangerous.”

“Dangerous to whom? To themselves or to others?”

I remained silent to ponder the answer. I lifted my eyes.

“Both.” Jungsun continued to look at me as his worried expression seemed to be accentuated by the sound of raindrops. The sky was dark except when it was casually illuminated by a few flashes of lightning. Spring thunderstorms were the worst. “I suggest you to sedate them, the transfer of some of them will be easier.”

Jungsun looked at me puzzled. My hair was still stuck to my face because of the rain. I was wearing a threadbare black shirt with a white number tattooed on the back, baggy pants of the same color, and knee-high brown boots. My face was bruised and scratched, not to mention my arms and legs. I had the feeling that my body was opening in two. But the worst thing was definitely my mind. My eyes felt heavy and I thought I might fall asleep at any moment. I needed to sleep. But first I had to warn Jungsun.

“To one of them… you must be especially careful. Never leave him alone,” I murmured. My tongue was slurred, but my eyes were alert enough to catch the surprised look on my interlocutor’s face.

“One of them? Who exactly?”

“The patient in room 103.” I hesitated to even utter his name. “Min Yoongi.”

I didn’t know where I was going. I just knew I had to keep running, careless of the rain that was soaking my hair. I grabbed my cell phone to call my mother, but the damn thing had run out of power. I put it back in my bag and headed for the white complex at the top of the climb. The huge sign read: ASAN MEDICAL CENTER.

I darted through the sliding doors and hurriedly reached the reception desk. The girl behind the counter looked at me puzzled when I planted my hands against the latter to stop my run. But it didn’t even take her a second to recover from her surprise. Surely, she was used to such scenes. We were, after all, in a hospital.

“Can I help you?” she asked gently.

“I – The man found by the police, can you tell me – What room is he in?” I recited those words with bated breath, still exhausted from my earlier run. The girl’s expression changed to a sincerely compassionate one.

“Miss, he’s not in any room. The body has been moved to the morgue.”

My heart froze. Of course, what a stupid question.

“Yes… That’s right. That’s what I meant.”

“Are you here to identify the body?” She looked at me with a glint of expectation in her eyes.

I swallowed. “Yes.” How difficult it had been to utter that simple syllable. It had made it all too real. I felt like I was living in a nightmare.

“Take the elevator on the far right. All you have to do is go to floor -1.”

I thanked her, but I didn't even give her time to finish what she was saying, which was that she would call the appropriate police services in case of recognition. I walked down the hall and meanwhile passed two men who had just arrived from upstairs. One of them was wearing a medical white coat, while the other was really young and handsome. And quite tall, too. But definitely badly reduced.

When our gazes met, I saw that the boy stopped in the middle of the room, his brown eyes fixed in mine. The doctor at his side imitated him and whispered if everything was all right. But he kept looking at me. For a few seconds, I couldn’t take my eyes off him. He stared at me as if he was… frightened? Intimidated?

Once again, I reminded myself that I was in a hospital. He must have been a patient with some psychological problem.

I turned my head, leaving the boy’s troubled eyes behind me. However, I managed to catch an excerpt of their conversation with a nurse who had just approached him.

“Doctor, the patient in room 103… has disappeared.”

© 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. || 𝐔𝐧𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝/𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬, 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦, 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 || ⚜ 𝐁𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐚_𝐃 ⚜

© 𝐁𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 ❋ 𝓐. 𝓜𝓪𝓵𝓯𝓸𝔂𝓩𝓪𝓫𝓲𝓷𝓲 ❋. 𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝.

[lesbianfeminists]

From heart disease to IUDs: How doctors dismiss women’s pain

Several studies support the claim that gender bias in medicine routinely leads to a denial of pain relief for female patients for a range of health conditions

One woman was told she was being “dramatic” when she pleaded for a brain scan after suffering months of headaches and pounding in her ears. It turned out she had a brain tumor. Another was ignored as she cried out in pain during a 33-hour labor. She was supposed to be getting pain medication through her epidural, but it had fallen out. Dozens of women complained of torturous pain as their vaginal walls were punctured during an egg retrieval process. They were told their pain was normal, but, in actuality, they were getting saline instead of anesthesia. These are just some of the stories of women who say their pain and suffering has been dismissed or misdiagnosed by doctors. Although these are anecdotal reports, a number of studies support the claim that women in pain often are not taken as seriously as men.

This year, the Journal of the American Heart Association reported that women who visited emergency departments with chest pain waited 29 percent longer than men to be evaluated for possible heart attacks. An analysis of 981 emergency room visits showed that women with acute abdominal pain were up to 25 percent less likely than their male counterparts to be treated with powerful opioid painkillers. Another study showed that middle-aged women with chest pain and other symptoms of heart disease were twice as likely to be diagnosed with a mental illness compared with men who had the same symptoms. “I was told I knew too much, that I was working too hard, that I was stressed out, that I was anxious,” said Ilene Ruhoy, a 53-year-old neurologist from Seattle, who had head pain and pounding in her ears. Despite having a medical degree, Ruhoy said she struggled to get doctors to order a brain scan. By the time she got it in 2015, a tennis ball-sized tumor was pushing her brain to one side. She needed surgery, but first, she rushed home, hugged her 11-year-old daughter and wrote her a letter to tell her goodbye.

Ruhoy did not die on the operating table, but her tumor had grown so large it could not be entirely removed. Now, she has several smaller tumors that require radiation treatment. She said many of her female patients have had experiences similar to hers. “They’re not validated with regards to their concerns; they’re gaslit; they’re not understood,” she said. “They feel like no one is listening to them.”

Doubts about women’s pain can affect treatment for a wide range of health issues, including heart problems, stroke, reproductive health, chronic illnesses, adolescent pain and physical pain, among other things, studies show. Research also suggests that women are more sensitive to pain than men and are more likely to express it, so their pain is often seen as an overreaction rather than a reality, said Roger Fillingim, director of the Pain Research and Intervention Center of Excellence at the University of Florida. Fillingim, who co-wrote a review article on sex differences in pain, said there are many possible explanations, including hormones, genetics and even social factors such as gender roles. Regardless, he said, “you treat the pain that the patient has, not the pain that you think the patient should have.”

Women say reproductive health complaints are commonly ignored

Women often cite pain bias around areas of reproductive health, including endometriosis, labor pain and insertion of an intrauterine device, or IUD. When Molly Hill made an appointment at a Connecticut clinic in 2017 to get an IUD, she said she was warned it would be uncomfortable, but she was not prepared for “horrific” pain. Hill, now 27 and living in San Francisco, recalled that during the procedure, she began crying in pain and shouted at the doctor to stop. “We’re almost done,” she said the doctor told her and continued the procedure. “It was full-body, electrifying, knife-stabbing pain,” she said. After it was done, she said she lay sobbing on the table in physical and emotional pain. “It felt violating, too, to have that pain that deep in your core where you feel the most vulnerable.”

Studies consistently show that women who have not experienced vaginal birth have much higher pain during IUD insertion compared with women who have given birth. A Swedish study found that among 224 women who had not given birth, 89 percent reported moderate or severe pain. One in six of the women said the pain was severe. Although numbing agents and local anesthetics are available, they are rarely used.

In some cases, women have sued physicians for ignoring their pain. Dozens of women sued Yale University claiming that during an egg harvesting procedure at its infertility clinic, they were supposed to be receiving the powerful painkiller fentanyl. But some women were getting only diluted pain medication or none at all, according to lawsuits filed in the state Superior Court in Connecticut. Later, the clinic discovered a nurse had been stealing vials of fentanyl and replacing the painkiller with saline solution. The nurse pleaded guilty last year and was sentenced for tampering with the drugs. One of the plaintiffs, Laura Czar, wrote about her experience for Elle magazine, describing it as “a horrible, gut-wrenching pain,” and told a doctor at the time, “I can feel everything you’re doing.” Despite her protests, the doctor continued. Yale said in a statement that it “deeply regrets” the women’s distress and has “reviewed its procedures and made changes to further oversight of pain control and controlled substances.”

Racial disparities in pain management

For Sharee Turpin, the pain of sickle-cell disease sometimes feels like tiny knives slicing her open. Sickle cell disease is an inherited blood disorder that can cause suffering so severe, its attacks are called “pain crises.” But when Turpin, who is Black, experiences a pain crisis, the 34-year-old does not rush to the ER in Rochester, N.Y. Instead, she combs her hair, mists some perfume and slips on her “Sunday best” in hopes that the doctors and nurses won’t peg her as a drug seeker, she said. Sometimes, Turpin gets a care team that understands her pain. Other times, she is treated as a bother. “I’ve even been told ‘shut up’ by a nurse because I was screaming too loud while I was in pain,” she said.

Abundant research shows racial bias in pain treatment. A 2016 study found half of white medical students and residents held at least one false belief about biological differences between Blacks and Whites, and were more likely to underestimate Black patients’ pain. “The management of pain is one of the largest disparities that we see between Black people and White people in the American health-care system,” said Tina Sacks, an associate professor at the University of California at Berkeley and author of “Invisible Visits: Black Middle-Class Women in the American Healthcare System.”

Labeling women “hysterical” or blaming psychological causes

Research shows men in chronic pain tend to be regarded as “stoic” while women are more likely to be considered “emotional” and “hysterical” and accused of “fabricating the pain.” Carol Klay, a 68-year-old from Tampa, had endured years of chronic pain from arthritis, degenerative disk disease and spinal stenosis. During a hospital stay last year, her doctor noted in her medical record that she was crying “hysterically.” Klay said she was crying because she was unable to sit, stand or walk without agony, and the doctor had removed morphine from her cocktail of pain medications. She wonders whether the doctor “would have called me hysterical if I was a man,” she said. Tampa General Hospital said it could not discuss specific patients, but stated: “Patient treatment plans, including medication orders to reduce pain, are prescribed by multi-disciplinary clinical teams.” Research shows women’s physical pain is also often attributed to psychological causes.

Jan Maderios, a 72-year-old Air Force veteran from Chipley, Fla., said the trauma of having pain dismissed by doctors has stayed with her for years. She saw about a dozen doctors in the early 1970s for pelvic pain. When clinicians could not identify the cause of her pain, she was referred to a psychiatrist.

“You start to doubt yourself after so many medical experts tell you there’s nothing wrong with you,” she said. After a hysterectomy in 1976, Maderios learned that fibroid tumors in her uterus had been the source of her pain. She said learning her pain was real — and physical — “made all the difference in the world.”

Why women’s pain complaints often aren’t taken seriously

During a 33-hour labor with her first child in 2011, Anushay Hossain, 42, of D.C., opted for epidural pain relief but said she still felt it all — every contraction, every cramp and every dismissal of her pain by her medical team. The doctor reassured her that she was getting the maximum dosage of pain medication.

In fact, she wasn’t getting any at all. She said her epidural had slipped out. By the time the error was caught, she was shaking uncontrollably and in need of an emergency Caesarean section, she said. “There’s a pain gap, but there’s also a credibility gap,” said Hossain, author of “The Pain Gap: How Sexism and Racism in Healthcare Kill Women.” “Women are not believed about their bodies —period.”

This pain gap may stem, in part, from the fact that women have historically been excluded from medical research. It wasn’t until 2016 that the National Institutes of Health (NIH) required sex to be considered as a biological variable in most studies it funded. “We’re making progress,” said David Thomas, special adviser to the director of NIH’s Office of Research on Women’s Health. “But we do have a long way to go because there’s this whole institutional approach to doing research — pain and beyond — where it tends to be male-focused.”

Nearly 95 percent of U.S. medical school students said instruction on sex and gender differences in medicine should be included in curriculums, according to a 2015 survey. But only 43 percent said their curriculum had helped them understand those differences and only 34.5 percent said they felt prepared to manage them in a health-care setting.

“It is changing, but it’s changing very slowly,” said Janice Werbinski, immediate past president of the American Medical Women’s Association and chair of the mentorship committee of the association’s Sex and Gender Health Collaborative.

How women can advocate for better pain care

It took decades to solve the mystery of Maureen Woods’s chronic pain. Woods, 64, of Myersville, Md., started having joint pain in her teens and, over the years, told dozens of doctors her pain was “debilitating,” she said. Some told her it was all in her head. In 2017, she was diagnosed with hypermobile Ehlers-Danlos syndrome, a connective tissue disorder often causing loose joints, dislocations and chronic pain. She said women who are not being heard should keep advocating for themselves. “You have to go with your gut — something is wrong and I need to find a doctor who can figure it out,” she said. Marjorie Jenkins, dean of the University of South Carolina School of Medicine Greenville, urged women against feeling pressured to accept an “everything is normal” non-diagnosis. “If your provider does not appear to be listening to you or believing what you’re saying, then you need a new provider,” Jenkins said. “You are the client, you are the customer and you are the owner of your health.”

Women can also take a family member, friend or other support person who can corroborate their stories, said Alyson McGregor, an emergency medicine professor at the University of South Carolina School of Medicine Greenville and author of the book “Sex Matters: How Male-Centric Medicine Endangers Women’s Health and What We Can Do About It.” Particularly in emergency departments, she said, there can be an inherent bias. “There’s this assumption that women are emotional and they’re anxious and that that’s the main issue,” she said.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Annelise Hanshaw at Missouri Independent:

A St. Louis judge on Friday determined Missouri Attorney General Andrew Bailey has no right to access unredacted private health information of transgender children treated at the Washington University Transgender Center at St. Louis Children’s Hospital. St. Louis Circuit Court Judge Joseph Whyte ruled that Washington University does not have to provide the unredacted medical records sought by the attorney general’s office as part of his investigation into the clinic’s practices.  Whyte found that the health information sought in Bailey’s demands is protected, and the data is not relevant to an investigation under the Missouri Merchandising Practices Act, which is the state’s consumer protection law.  A third layer of protection for the information, the judge ruled, is the Health Information Portability and Accountability Act, or HIPAA, which prohibits the disclosure of personal health information without authorization.

[...] Bailey began looking into gender-affirming care at the Washington University Transgender Center in March 2023 after the center’s former case manager Jamie Reed provided an affidavit alleging rushed treatment. The attorney general’s office sent civil investigative demands, which are similar to subpoenas, for health records to Washington University and other providers of gender-affirming care to minors, and four facilities filed suit against his requests for information.

Missouri AG Andrew Bailey (R) lost yet another of his frivolous lawsuits, as Bailey had no right to access unredacted private health information of trans children at WashU’s Transgender Center.

See Also:

The Advocate: Judge blocks Missouri AG from accessing medical records of transgender minors

[shadowmaat]

Daemonized

Everyone knew that clones didn't have daemons. It was why the practice was outlawed in the Galactic Republic. It was also why everyone knew that the clones of the GAR weren't really people. How could they be, if none of them had a daemon?

The clones themselves hadn't known they were different. Not at first. After all, the Kaminoans themselves were cloned and modified and they didn't have daemons, either. The trainers did, and they were the first ones to drive home the fact that the clones were different; that they were wrong, and the only way they'd ever find acceptance in the universe was by being good soldiers.

There were rumors that some of the siblings who got Disappeared had been removed for asking too many questions about daemons and so, while questions remained, it was understood to be safer to never ever talk about it.

The Jedi, when they finally entered the picture, had a lot of questions about it, but the clones did their best to deflect, redirect, and ignore. The Jedi, recognizing the sensitivity of the issue, stopped asking, but they never stopped wondering. After all, if the clones were as soulless as everyone said, how come they felt so distinct and vibrant in the Force?

The answer wasn't one anyone could have predicted.

The first recorded incident was, of course, on a battlefield. Katkazza and her troops were crossing a bridge when they were ambushed. An explosion collapsed one of the center supports. Most of the troops managed to get to safety, but Lt. Striper was swept over the side by a piece of debris.

Katkazza managed to grab him with the Force, but all of them were now taking heavy fire and she wasn't sure she could get him to safety.

There was a ripple in the Force and the world seemed to lurch. Kat roared as Striper was pulled from her grasp, but before she could try to grab him again he was gone. Instead, an enormous shyyyo bird tumbled through the air before snapping open its wings.

Kat was sure she was seeing- and hearing things, because it sounded like the bird screamed "I'M FREE!"

She turned to concentrate on the advancing droids, deflecting blaster fire and trying to cover the rest of her men.

The shyyo bird reappeared, grabbing a droid in its claws and flinging it off the remains of the bridge.

"I got this, General!"

It was definitely the bird talking. Except not quite a bird and far too brilliant in the Force.

When the fighting was finally over- the bird making their victory decisive- Kat and her troopers gathered around as the bird landed and then sank fully to the ground.

"Wow! So tired! But I did good, right General?" It blinked. "Oh! I'm... Saasa? But also Striper?" The bird's beak gaped wide in a yawn. "I think we have a lot to talk about."

Its- her- eyes fluttered closed, even as the troopers shouted questions at her.

There was another ripple, felt in the Force as much as seen with the eyes, and the bird was gone, leaving an unconscious but mostly unharmed Striper.

Pinch, the medic, rushed in to check him even as the rest of the troopers cheered at the return of their lost brother. Kat tugged at the fur on her head. A lot to talk about rather understated the situation, in her opinion.

If her hunch was right, though, she may have finally found the answer to the question of the clones and their daemons.

[madamlaydebug]

Leafy greens

Of all of the foods included in the MIND diet, which was developed by researchers at Rush University Medical Center in Chicago, leafy green vegetables stand out as an especially important category.

People between the ages of 58 to 99 who ate a heaping half-cup of cooked leafy greens, or a heaping cup of uncooked greens like lettuce each day, had less cognitive decline — the equivalent of 11 years less — than those who hardly ate any leafy greens, say researchers in one study published in the journal Neurology. MIND diet researchers recommend getting at least six such servings per week.

Get more: Start your day with a kale and mushroom omelet; mix a cup of baby spinach into pasta; dress your dinner plate with a handful of arugula before placing your entrée on top.

[beardedmrbean]

Las Vegas police on Tuesday arrested eight teenagers on murder charges in connection with the death of Jonathan Lewis, a 17-year-old who was pummeled by a mob of his classmates in an alley outside their high school, authorities said.

The eight suspects charged with murder are between 13 and 17 years old, said Las Vegas Metropolitan Police Department Lt. Jason Johansson in a news conference on Tuesday. Police along with the district attorney's office are beginning the process to charge them as adults. Johansson added that there's no evidence indicating the attack was "a hate crime."

On Nov. 1, students from Rancho High School, including Jonathan, met in an alley just across the street from the campus to fight over "stolen wireless headphones and, possibly, a stolen marijuana vape pen," Johansson said. Police believe the items were stolen from Jonathan's friend but once they were all in the alley, it was Jonathan who fought instead.

Johansson said as soon as the first punch was thrown, 10 people swarmed Jonathan, pulled him to the ground and began kicking, punching and stomping him.

After the fight, a passerby found the teenager unconscious in the alley and carried him to the school, where staff performed CPR. First responders rushed him to the University Medical Center of Southern Nevada, where it was soon determined that he had suffered "non-survivable head trauma," Johansson said. Jonathan died several days later.

Police search for two more suspects, ask public for help

Videos of the incident – called "extremely disturbing" and "void of humanity" by police officials – circulated social media and were used by investigators to identify eight of the 10 suspects. On Tuesday, police and the FBI coordinated arrests of the eight students and executed search warrants at nine homes throughout Las Vegas. Johansson said clothing worn by teenagers in the video and cellphones were recovered.

Las Vegas police will be releasing photos of the remaining suspects and urged the public to assist investigators in identifying them. Johansson asked that people submit footage of the incident to police and called on parents to speak with their children about the videos, which have been shared widely across multiple social media platforms.

"If you're a mentor with youth, if you're a parent, you have to assume that your kids have seen this video ... don't put your head in the sand," Johansson said. "Please talk with your kids about it and explain – people need to know right from wrong and that this act was heinous."

Jonathan's father seeks 'deeper justice'

Jonathan Lewis Sr., an electrician who lives in Austin, Texas, said his son was "a hero" who stuck up for his friend.

"That's just the kind of person he was," Lewis, 38, told USA TODAY. He described his son as an avid hip-hop fan who liked to make digital art.

Lewis said when he got the phone call that Jonathan was attacked and in the hospital, he could "could barely walk."

His family arranged to get him a flight to Las Vegas, where he and Jonathan's mother stayed at their son's bedside for days. During that time, they started planning a foundation that would address youth violence issues through counseling, mentorships and after-school programs.

Lewis created a website for the foundation, Team Jonathan, and is beginning to work on what he hopes becomes a nonprofit that'll prevent incidents like what happened to his son.

"Justice is a much much deeper issue to me than these children go to prison," Lewis said. "This is an all-encompassing issue that involves all of humanity and how we behave and the lack of empathy and compassion that we have. I just feel like my son's legacy deserves a deeper justice."

[bpod-bpod]

Limiting Osteoarthritis

Greater understanding of the role of the interaction between a molecule called nerve growth factor and its receptors in limiting inflammation and in remodelling and repairing joints affected by osteoarthritis – with potential for exploitation as a treatment

Read the published research article here

Image from work by Lan Zhao and Jian Huang, and colleagues

Department of Orthopedic Surgery, Rush University Medical Center, Chicago, IL, USA

Image originally published with a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International (CC BY 4.0)

Published in Nature Communications, April 2024

You can also follow BPoD on Instagram, Twitter and Facebook

[xoxiu]

my house of stone, your ivy grows - yoongi x reader

chapter nine table of contents masterlist

taglist

discord

summary: yoongi carried himself with a sense of pride within himself and his belongings. he worked hard to get to where he was- ethically or not, it made him the man he is today. his latest toy, a young college girl from america, will become his magnum opus. he just needs to work out the kinks.

tags/warnings: mafia au, kidnapping, daddy dom!yoongi, smut, autistic!reader, spanking, stockholm syndrome, little!jimin, vminhope, drug mention, namjin, fluff, domestic discipline

taglist: @allamericanuniverse @llallaaa

Kiwo sat in the center of the bed staring down at the Nintendo Switch in her lap. It was one of the gifts from Yoongi, and one of the things she wanted the most. It felt weird, however, to get one under these circumstances. 

She had rules with it- no playing it without permission, no internet, and no more than two hours on it. Yoongi had gotten so many things to play with, and he didn’t want her to rot her brain on video games all day. They were all in a box under the bed- some yarn for Kiwo to crochet with, slime, board games, books, and other little things she had little to no interest in just yet. 

Yoongi had gone all out during his shopping trip. A large dog kennel sat in the corner of the bedroom close to the bed, with a large fluffy dog bed inside. There were pink blankets and stuffed animals in there as well, and fairy lights decorated the outside. Some of the bigger stuffed animals sat on top of the kennel. Kiwo looked away with disgust, only for her eyes to fall on the bedside table. 

There sat three pacifiers in pink, blue, and white. Kiwo wanted to be disgusted by them, but with her need for oral stimulation, she secretly wanted them. She would never give in, though, especially if it meant satisfaction for Yoongi.

Kiwo hissed as her headache throbbed harder, and laid down on the bed, Switch abandoned next to her body. She was now face-to-face with the pacifiers. The familiar flips in her stomach only broke her gaze, and she rushed for the en suite bathroom.

“For a research university, I expected Yonsei to have higher web security,” Hoseok remarked from the couch behind Yoongi. The office was currently inhabited by the hacker, Hoseok, and Taehyung. Yoongi ignored the younger’s voice and continued to view the files in front of him. 

As an international student, Kiwo had to send over various medical records to the university for insurance reasons. Since she was still deathly ill, Yoongi figured he could check her medical records to see if there were any pre-existing conditions. Hoseok and Taehyung, however, visited only in the hope of meeting Kiwo. 

A file marked ‘outpatient psychiatric services’ caught Yoongi’s eye, and he quickly downloaded the record.

”Kiwo Louise is a 17-year-old female with a history of Autism Spectrum Disorder, social anxiety, depression, and a panic disorder.” Yoongi’s eyes widened at the opening statement. He was completely unaware that Kiwo was autistic. He browsed the document for any other information.

”The patient was diagnosed with autism around the age of 6 or 7. She has a history of self-harm but currently shows no intent to harm herself. She has a history of sexually acting out.

“She has a history of social awkwardness, emotional outbursts, and infantile behaviors. Her emotional state appears to be delayed, placing her near a 7-year-old’s milestones for emotional intelligence.

”She has a slight speech delay with the /r/ sound in all forms, as well as consonant digraphs. Ms. Louise has attended speech therapy since Kindergarten.”

All Yoongi could do was stare at the screen. All this information was considered vital to Kiwo’s health and well-being, and Yoongi felt inadequate in his handling of it. 

“That’s quite the cocktail of drugs, hyung,” Taehyung said as he leaned against the back of Yoongi’s chair. He read the files over the elder’s shoulder much to Yoongi’s dismay.

”Probably sick from withdrawal, poor thing.” Hoseok got up from the chair to look at the files as well. The three silently stared at the computer screen until Taehyung finally spoke up. 

“I could easily get you the medications- it’s not like antidepressants are illegal.”

“Can I come with you?” Hoseok asked. Taehyung simply shook his head no, but Hoseok’s smile never faltered. 

“Hoseok,” Yoongi said, “Watch my email to see if anything work-related pops up. I’m going to check on Kiwo for a bit.” 

Yoongi stood up and left the two other men in the office. They stared at each other with concern over Yoongi in their eyes. 

“He’s been fidgety since Kiwo arrived,” Hoseok took a seat in the desk chair, and took one quick spin on it. “And I’m sure her getting sick suddenly isn’t helping.”

Taehyung agreed and politely dismissed himself to get what Yoongi needed of him. Hoseok whistled out of boredom at the computer desk, refreshing the email client every few minutes. 

He wished he could see Kiwo- Yoongi has been very secretive over her and rarely let any of them see her. From what Seokjin had said, she’s a shy but polite young girl, with a very cute round face. Hoseok wished he could go into Yoongi’s room to see for himself, but had no reason to do so. 

An email came through. It was a video conference reminder for Yoongi. Hoseok finally had his chance to see Kiwo. He quickly got up and headed for Yoongi's bedroom only to find Taehyung exiting the room. The younger man gave him a huge smile before speaking. 

"She's asleep right now, but you should see her. It's just the cutest sight."

Taehyung patted his back as he passed him. Hoseok stood in front of the door for a moment, reveling in his excitement before finally opening up the door slowly. The room was dark sans the light from a bedside lamp illuminating Yoongi's face. The elder sat with his back against the headboard, scrolling aimlessly on his phone. Kiwo was splayed across the bed horizontally, with her body all sorts of twisted up while her head lay on Yoongi's lap. Hoseok's smile widened at the cozy sight. His eyes eventually fell upon something blue sticking out of Kiwo's mouth. 

A pacifier.

Hoseok almost felt his heart leap out of his chest. The sight of her small face, flushed cheeks, and a pale blue pacifier was almost too much to take in at once. 

"What's up?" Yoongi asked, putting his phone on the bedside table next to him. 

"This cannot be the Kiwo you've been telling us about," Hoseok shook his head in disbelief, "she could never hit you upside the head with an encyclopedia."

Yoongi chuckled at the memory and gently moved Kiwo's head and arm from his thighs so he could get up. When he arose, he gave a big stretch before looking back over at Hoseok. The man finally came back to his senses to inform Yoongi of the upcoming meeting. The elder closed his eyes with an exhausted sigh before speaking up.

"Can you wait here in case Kiwo wakes up? Maybe try to give her the medication when she does?" Yoongi walked over to his closer and attempted to look nice and presentable by throwing on a blazer over his dress shirt. Hoseok nodded and sat on the chair in the corner of the bedroom.

He was so excited for Kiwo to wake up.

The sun was setting and Hoseok was growing tired, yawning and closing his eyes every few seconds. Kiwo had yet to wake up, and Hoseok doubted she would before Yoongi's meeting ended. 

Hoseok watched the pacifier fall out of Kiwo's pouted lips and gently land on the blanket next to her. She stirred slightly and slowly began opening her eyes when the bedroom door suddenly opened. 

"That was the most bullshit meeting ever," Yoongi stated, throwing his blazer to the side. "Did you know the company president was acquiring another hotel chain? We can't possibly afford that!"

Yoongi suddenly remembered that Kiwo was sleeping, and his raised voice most likely woke her up. He peered over towards the bed only to see half-opened eyes peeking out at him and puffy pouted lips. 

“Hi, sleepy girl. Did I wake you?” He asked walking over to the bed and running a hand through her tangled bed hair. There was no response other than Kiwo gently closing her eyes and sighing. 

“Have you said hi to Hoseok oppa yet?” 

Kiwo turned away with a whine, her perky butt now facing Yoongi. The blond sat on the bed and lightly tapped her bottom twice, just hard enough to get her attention. Kiwo once again let out a whine before saying a sharp ‘hi’. 

Yoongi clicked his tongue and shook his head.

”So disrespectful, you brat,” Yoongi said. “Need to teach you some respect and manners.” 

Hoseok let out a small laugh before talking to Kiwo in a baby voice, “Hi Kiwoie! Can Hobi oppa see your pretty face?” 

Small feet kicked out in response, but Kiwo did sit up. She hid her flushed face in her hands. 

“Can you be a big girl and take your meds for me?” Hoseok continued to talk to her as if she were a child, and it appeared to be working somewhat. 

“We got your medication for you to help you feel better,” Yoongi said as he picked up the bag full of bottles. “Just so you can trust us, you can take them yourself. There’s water on the table.”

Kiwo removed her hands from her face but kept her head down. She grabbed the bag from Yoongi’s hand and grabbed one of the bottles. It was, in fact, one of her psychiatric medications, so she felt no fear in taking them. 

It was even the name brand of them. 

“Taehyungie oppa brought them for you,” Hoseok said, doubting that Taehyung got to meet Kiwo. She most likely was still asleep then.

Feeling uncomfortable with the stranger near her, Kiwo just fiddled with the plastic bag anxiously. Finally, she felt somewhat comfortable with Yoongi- he wasn’t that bad of a guy, he didn’t hurt her and was very accommodating. This Hoseok, however, Kiwo felt unnerved by. He smiled and was a bit too cheerful, and it almost felt like he was hiding something malicious from Kiwo. 

Yoongi must have picked up on Kiwo’s nerves, and sent a look toward Hoseok. The younger man understood and stood up to take his leave. 

“I better get going now, have a good night Kiwo and Yoongi hyung!”

Kiwo looked up to watch Hoseok leave. Then she took her meds, one by one, with big drinks of water to wash them down. 

Yoongi smiled. He slowly was beginning to understand Kiwo better. Even though it may be different than he initially planned, he was determined to know Kiwo inside and out. 

[mariacallous]

In February, a dermatologist in New York City contacted the state’s health department about two female patients, ages 28 and 47, who were not related but suffered from the same troubling problem. They had ringworm, a scaly, crusty, disfiguring rash covering large portions of their bodies. Ringworm sounds like a parasite, but it is caused by a fungus—and in both cases, the fungus was a species that had never been recorded in the US. It was also severely drug-resistant, requiring treatment with several types of antifungals for weeks. There was no indication where the patients might have acquired the infections; the older woman had visited Bangladesh the previous summer, but the younger one, who was pregnant and hadn’t traveled, must have picked it up in the city.

That seemed alarming—but in one of the largest and most mobile cities on the planet, weird medical things happen. The state reported the cases to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, and the New York doctors and some CDC staff wrote up an account for the CDC’s weekly journal.

Then, in March, some of those same CDC investigators reported that a fungus they had been tracking—Candida auris, an extremely drug-resistant yeast that invades health care facilities and kills two-thirds of the people infected with it—had risen to more than 10,000 cases since it was identified in the US in 2016, tripling in just two years. In April, the Michigan Department of Health and Human Services rushed to investigate cases of a fungal infection called blastomycosis centered on a paper mill, an outbreak that would grow to 118 people, the largest ever recorded. And in May, US and Mexican health authorities jointly rang an alarm over cases of meningitis, caused by the fungus Fusarium solani, which seemed to have spread to more than 150 clinic patients via contaminated anesthesia products. By mid-August, 12 people had died.

All of those outbreaks are different: in size, in pathogen, in location, and the people they affected. But what links them is that they were all caused by fungi—and to the small cadre of researchers who keep track of such things, that is worrisome. The experts share a sense, supported by incomplete data but also backed by hunch, that serious fungal infections are occurring more frequently, affecting more people, and also are becoming harder to treat.

“We don’t have good surveillance for fungal infections,” admits Tom Chiller, an infectious disease physician and chief of the CDC’s mycotic diseases branch. “So it’s hard to give a fully data-driven answer. But the feeling is definitely that there is an increase.”

The question is: Why? There may be multiple answers. More people are living longer with chronic illnesses, and their impaired immune systems make them vulnerable. But the problem isn’t only that fungal illnesses are more frequent; it is also that new pathogens are emerging and existing ones are claiming new territory. When experts try to imagine what could exert such widespread influence, they land on the possibility that the problem is climate change.

Fungi live in the environment; they affect us when they encounter us, but for many, their original homes are vegetation, decaying plant matter, and dirt. “Speculative as it is, it's entirely possible that if you have an environmental organism with a very specific ecological niche, out there in the world, you only need a very small change in the surface temperature or the air temperature to alter its niche and allow it to proliferate,” says Neil Stone, a physician and fungal infections lead at University College London Hospitals. “And it's that plausibility, and the lack of any alternative explanation, which makes it believable as a hypothesis.”

For this argument, C. auris is the leading piece of evidence. The rogue yeast was first identified in 2009 in a single patient in Japan, but within just a few years, it bloomed on several continents. Genetic analyses showed the organism had not spread from one continent to others, but emerged simultaneously on each. It also behaved strikingly differently from most yeasts, gaining the abilities to pass from person to person and to thrive on cool inorganic surfaces such as plastic and metal—while collecting an array of resistance factors that protect it from almost all antifungal drugs.

Arturo Casadevall, a physician and chair of molecular microbiology and immunology at the Johns Hopkins Bloomberg School of Public Health, proposed more than a decade ago that the rise of mammals over dinosaurs was propelled by an inherent protection: Internally, we’re too hot. Most fungi flourish at 30 degrees Celsius or less, while our body temperature hovers between 36 and 37 degrees Celsius. (That’s from 96.8 to the familiar 98.6 degrees Fahrenheit.) So when an asteroid smashed into the Earth 65 million years ago, throwing up a cloud of pulverized vegetation and soil and the fungi those would have contained, the Earth’s dominant reptiles were vulnerable, but early mammals were not.

But Casadevall warned of a corollary possibility: If fungi increased their thermotolerance, learning to live at higher temperatures as the climate warms, mammals could lose that built-in protection—and he proposed that the weird success of C. auris might indicate it is the first fungal pathogen whose adaptation to warmth allowed it to find a new niche.

In the 14 years since it was first spotted, C. auris has invaded health care in dozens of countries. But in that time, other fungal infections have also surged. At the height of the Covid pandemic, India experienced tens of thousands of cases of mucormycosis, commonly called “black fungus,” which ate away at the faces and airways of people made vulnerable by having diabetes or taking steroids. In California, diagnosis of coccidioidomycosis (also called Valley fever) rose 800 percent between 2000 and 2018. And new species are affecting humans for the first time. In 2018, a team of researchers from the US and Canada identified four people, two from each country, who had been infected by a newly identified genus, Emergomyces. Two of the four died. (The fungus got its name because it is “emerging” into the human world.) Subsequently, a multinational team identified five species in that newly-named genus that are causing infections all over the world, most severely in Africa.

Fungi are on the move. Last April, a research group from the Washington University School of Medicine in St. Louis examined the expected geographic range in the US of what are usually called the “endemic fungi,” ones that flourish only within specific areas. Those are Valley fever in the dry Southwestern US; histoplasmosis in the damp Ohio River valley; and blastomycosis, with a range that stretched from the Great Lakes down the Mississippi to New Orleans, and as far east as the Virginia coast. Using Medicare data from more than 45 million seniors who sought health care between 2007 and 2016, the group discovered that the historically documented range of these fungi is wildly out of step with where they are actually causing infections now. Histoplasmosis, they found, had been diagnosed in at least one county in 94 percent of US states; blastomycosis, in 78 percent; and Valley fever in 69 percent.

That represents an extension of range so vast that it challenges the meaning of endemic—to the point that Patrick Mazi, an assistant professor of medicine and first author on the paper, urges clinicians to cease thinking of fungal infections as geographically determined, and focus on symptoms instead. “Let’s acknowledge that everything is dynamic and changing,” he says. “We should recognize that for the sake of our patients.”

Without taking detailed histories from those millions of patients, it can’t be proven where their infections originated. They could have been exposed within the fungi’s historic home ranges and then traveled; one analysis has correlated the occurrence of Valley fever in the upper Midwest with “snowbird” winter migration to the Southwest. But there is plenty of evidence for fungal pathogens moving to new areas, via animals and bats, and on winds and wildfire smoke as well.

However fungi are relocating, they appear to be adapting to their new homes, and changes in temperature and precipitation patterns may be part of that. Ten years ago, CDC and state investigators found people in eastern Washington state infected with Valley fever, and proved they had acquired it not while traveling, but locally—in a place long considered too cold and dry for that fungus to survive. A group based primarily at UC Berkeley has demonstrated that transmission of Valley fever in California is intimately linked to weather there—and that the growing pattern of extreme drought interrupted by erratic precipitation is increasing the disease’s spread. And other researchers have identified cases of a novel blastomycosis in Saskatchewan and Alberta, pushing the map of where that infection occurs further north and west.

The impact of climate change on complex phenomena is notoriously hard to prove—but researchers can now add some evidence to back up their intuition that fungi are adapting. In January, researchers at Duke University reported that when they raised the lab temperatures in which they were growing the pathogenic fungus Cryptococcus deneoformans—the cause of a quarter-million cases of meningitis each year—the fungus’s rate of mutation revved into overdrive. That activated mobile elements in the fungus’s genome, known as transposons, allowing them to move around within its DNA and affect how its genes are regulated. The rate of mutation was five times higher in fungi raised at human body temperature than at an incubator temperature of 30 degrees Celsius—and when the investigators infected mice with the transformed fungi, the rate of mutation sped up even more.

Researchers who are paying attention to rising fungal problems make a final point about them: We’re not seeing more cases because we’ve gotten better at finding them. Tests and devices to detect fungi, especially within patients, haven’t undergone a sudden improvement. In fact, achieving better diagnostics was top of a list published by the World Health Organization last fall when it drew up its first ranking of “priority fungal pathogens” in hopes of guiding research.

Multiple studies have shown that patients can wait two to seven weeks to get an accurate diagnosis, even when they are infected with fungi endemic to where they live, which ought to be familiar to local physicians. So understanding that fungi are changing their behavior is really an opportunity to identify how many more people might be in danger than previously thought—and to get out in front of that risk. “Patients are being diagnosed out of traditional areas, and we are missing them,” Mazi says. “All of these are opportunities to achieve better outcomes.”