#Signs of liver damage
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Could your liver be silently suffering? Learn the early signs of liver damage and explore expert-recommended tips to boost its health. Take action now!
#Liver health#Liver damage#Liver care#Signs of liver damage#Liver health tips#Strengthen liver#Liver detox#Liver support#Liver wellness#Healthy liver habits
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so much wine to drink, so little time. Everyone under 30, prepare to be faced with the brutal realization that hard liquor may no longer allow you to function once you hit the tertiary age bracket. I had one of those microscopically small bottles of rum, the ones you see people on episodes of intervention scramble for at 6am when the real stores are still closed, and even that produced a level of dehydration and fatigue that made me nearly crash my car the day after additionally, your hangovers can and will last two days, minimum. Be warned, take advice from an elder, an expert in the field, a seasoned veteran of the sport of swimming in brown water you will know death, and it laughs in the face of your agony. you will look in the mirror and the abyss will stare back. smoking a cigarette with a tremored hand is not as amorously enticing as pictures of guys with tattoos makes it look
#beer guts are a byproduct of wanting to relive your 20s#i would sign the organ donor card but my liver at this point is damaged goods#might as well throw it off a truck#it might come out cleaner#thank god i'm neurotic as fuck and have adhd#i'd be a full blown addict by now otherwise
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Chronic liver disease #shorts #LiverDisease #LiverHealth #Hepatitis #Cirrhosis #liverfunction
#shorts Chronic liver disease #shorts #LiverDisease #LiverHealth #Hepatitis #Cirrhosis #liverfunction #liverdisease #liverdiseaseawareness #liverdiseases #liverdiseasebedamned #liverdiseasesucks #liverdiseaseawarenes #liverdiseaseandthesugars #liverdiseaseawarenessbracelet #liverdiseaseawreness #liverdiseaseandtransplant #liverdiseaseb #liverdiseasebracelet #liverdiseaseblows #liverdiseasebabies…
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#alcoholic liver disease#causes of liver problems#chronic liver disease#cirrhosis#cirrhosis of the liver#fatty liver#fatty liver disease#fatty liver treatment#feet and liver health#liver#liver damage#liver disease#liver disease symptoms#liver disease symptoms dr zee#liver health#liver problem signs#liver problems#liver problems dr zee#nutrition#scarring of the liver#signs of a liver problem#symptoms#top 4 superfoods that can heal a fatty liver#turmeric
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pairing: early seasons!spencer reid x sunshine!fem!reader genre: fluff, roommate au, childhood friends warnings: general criminal minds violence, not beta-read oops a/n: I renounce the MoReid shippers; they’re SIBLINGS !!!! also, apologies for lack of posts !! have been very busy with uni :( wc: 1.06k part 1 | part 2
Spencer was shot. It all happened so quickly– the sound of the gun firing, the grunt that he let out and the apprehension of the UnSub. Too quickly, but such is the fickleness of life. This was one of the rare occasions where the ballistic vest did not do its job, the bullet jamming into his side. Hotch was on the UnSub in seconds, the cuffs on his wrists before anyone could blink.
“Shit, Reid,” Derek gasps out, watching the way blood seeps through his once pristine white shirt, and he presses his hand against the wound. “Shit, Hotch! Hotch! We need a medic!”
***
“It’s going to be okay,” Aaron assures as best he can. His face is grim and Derek is shaking his head in frustration, hands trembling and cold from washing his hands over and over again. “It’s not your fault.”
“We missed him,” Gideon mutters, “he was right there and we missed him.”
“And Spencer got hurt because of it.” Elle’s gaze is set on the hospital’s sign in counter.
Aaron understands their guilt. They caught the UnSub in the end, so nothing was ever in vain, but it doesn’t change the fact that they didn’t anticipate that he was at the end of the hallway waiting for the perfect moment to strike– and Spencer paid the price of their mistakes. The bullet hit him in the side where the vest didn’t cover, the damage reaching his liver and kidneys. Aaron doesn’t think he’s ever seen that much blood before.
“Excuse me–” a voice loud enough to cut through their brooding chimes from the reception desk. “Hi. Hello, I’m here for, um, Doctor Spencer Reid?”
The clerk glances at her for a brief moment before turning back to his computers. “We don’t have a Doctor by that name on staff.”
“Um, no–” a nervous laugh splits the air. “No, he’s– he’s not a doctor here. He’s a patient? I got a call.”
He looks at her up and down before raising an eyebrow, mumbling something. “Is that you?”
“Yes. Yes, that’s me, is he okay? I came as soon as I could.”
“He’s in surgery. He’ll be out in a few. Take a seat over there–” He gestures over to where Aaron and the others are sitting– “and the doctor will call you over.”
“Right. Right, okay, thank you.”
Elle doesn’t try hiding her confusion, looking up at you from her seat with raised brows. “You’re here for Reid?”
You jolt in surprise, the heavy grip you have on your bag loosening in an attempt to calm down. “Hi? Um, yeah. He’s– well, we’re on each other’s emergency contact list.”
“It’s good to see you again,” Aaron says with a tight grimace. “I wish it were under better circumstances.”
Derek’s jaw unhinges. “You knew?”
“Emergency contact list.” Aaron offers you a glance. “Are you okay?”
“I just–” your voice wobbles, a choked whimper leaving your lips. “I just want him to be okay.”
The team shares your sentiments. It’s not often when there’s an injury as serious as this on the field, but the risk is there. The room is tense with worry, the sound of doctors and nurses rushing around through the halls does nothing to ease their anxieties. You’re already fearing the worst.
What feels like hours is only minutes as a nurse arrives in front of your little group.
“Doctor Spencer Reid?” She confirms, looking sympathetic as ever. “The surgery was a success. The bullet grazed against his liver so he does need to stay for a couple of days for monitoring, but he should make a full recovery.”
“Is he allowed guests?” You blurt out hurriedly, the receipt in your hands crumbled in torn from incessant worrying.
“He’s should be waking up now, but you’re welcome to see him. I’ll take you there.” The nurse offers a gentle smile. “Girlfriend?”
Heat roars against your cheeks and you shake your head adamantly. “No, no, he’s– we’re not– he’s my roommate.”
The nurse hums, a knowing smile on her face. “I see.”
After a few quick goodbyes towards Aaron and the rest of the team, you hurry after the nurse whilst clutching your bag of goods. She opens the door wide, letting you inside before closing it behind you while you pull up a chair.
“I am– I am so mad at you, Spencer Walter Reid,” you whisper, gaze fixed on his resting face and the hair that mats his forehead. You brush a few strands away from his eyes, your lips trembling briefly. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”
“So you’re not that mad?” Spencer croaks out, his voice dry and his head pounding as he manages to lift his eyes towards you.
“Spencer.” Your arms are around his neck in an instant, careful as not to disrupt the wires and tubes that surround him. “I’m going to kill you.”
“That’s counter intuitive.” He laughs quietly, wincing a little at the suddenness before allowing his free arm to wrap loosely around your waist. He finds it uneasy, the way your lips fall into a wobbly frown and how your eyes look red and puffy from crying. He’s only ever seen you look like this once before but that’s nothing compared to this. This time you look like that because of him– a silly little accident has lead to your pretty smile vanishing off your pretty face.
“You suck. I’m telling your mother.” He knows you won’t and he’s grateful that you’ve found it in yourself to make a joke. When you pull away, he immediately misses your warmth, watching as you rummage through your bag before handing him a sealed cup of red jell-o. “It was the last one they had.”
“You’re an angel, really, but I don’t think I’m allowed to eat for a couple hours,” he murmurs, his fingers grasping gingerly at the cup.
With a wordless nod in acknowledgement, you press a thick leather bound book into his hands, your eyes meeting his gaze. “Your favourite.”
He breathes out his thanks, glancing up at you through the dim lights of the hospital room. “Are you going to stay?”
“As long as you want, Walter.”
***
From the other side of the door, Derek glances through the window at you and Spencer before looking back at Hotch. “They’re roommates?”
“Apparently.”
“No, but– they’re just roommates?”
“Unfortunately.”
reblogs are always appreciated !!
part 1 | part 2 | you are on part 3!
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#spencer reid x reader fluff#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x reader angst#spencer reid angst#criminal minds fluff#criminal minds x reader fluff#criminal minds angst#criminal minds x reader angst#matthe gray gubler#matthew gray gubler x reader#matthew gray gubler fluff#matthew gray gubler x reader fluff#matthew gray gubler angst#matthew gray gubler x reader angst
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I have the headcanon that Wade's healing factor isn't quite as advanced as Logan's, and it becomes a huge issue between them, because Wade is able to self harm in ways that aren't even possible for Logan, which makes it incredibly difficult for him to stop Wade from doing it.
For example, if Logan dislocates something, his body will push it back in place and heal it properly, no matter what.
If Wade dislocates something, he can hold it there, wait for the damaged tissue around it to heal it in place, and walk around for days not telling anyone he's in excruciating pain from his limbs not being where they're supposed to be.
Logan's body will push out bullets and then heal. Wade can bury anything in a wound and let it heal over, waiting for it to stab into him or start an infection or keep a muscle from healing properly, anything to extend the amount of time he's in pain.
The worst part is that on bad emotional days, his healing factor is slower. Wounds that take minutes can take days instead, which means when he's already enough of a wreck to consider self harm, he's able to really hurt himself bad.
Logan just straight up doesn't know what to do about it. He can't really chastise Wade, because he does the same shit for funsies, and he'll drink till his liver is slop if the mood strikes him, but with Wade it seems different. It's not a barely disguised kink, it's hardly even a coping mechanism anymore, it's just become an addiction that he can't stop, even on good days he'll be doing horrible things to himself that Logan has to try and sniff out, without any of the working knowledge of how their healing factors differ to know what signs to look for when Wade is actively self harming in very subtle but brutal ways.
He just wants Wade to be OK. He's tried yelling, tried talking it out, and that's where his emotional expertise ends. He's just tired of losing someone he loves to vices that eerily match his own.
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**Health update**
So I never wanted to make another post like this but here I am.. I was hoping to just get better and never bring it up again.
To get those of you up to speed. I was diagnosed with CKD back in late 2021. I’ve been battling that for a while now. I’m actually doing really well in that regard. During a routine MRI in Nov 2023 for my kidneys we found what looked to be a hepatic steatosis and splenomegaly. It was later determined and I was diagnosed with hepatic tumors and splenomegaly. I also had a fairly large gallstone and what appeared to be a tumor/cyst on my gallbladder. We decided it was just better to remove my GB and the tumors all at the same time. So in January of this year I had laparoscopic cholecystectomy/tumor removal. That’s what the scars on my stomach are from. The tumors were tested and were benign. That was a huge relief. But it left my liver fairly damaged. I wasn’t to concerned about because your liver can and will heal itself. I recovered well and felt great.
Fast forward 9 months. I wasn’t feeling very well. So I made an appointment with my PCP and she wanted me to do a bloodwork panel. This is normal. We actually do blood once a month but really only check kidneys, thyroid, and hormones. So I did the panel and when the test results came in my Dr called me immediately. She ordered another AST/hepatic function panel for my liver, kidneys and pancreas.
After those test results came in she had me come to her office. I was met with her and a Hepatologist. They broke the news to me that unfortunately my liver not doing well according to the bloodwork. My pancreas/kidneys are actually pretty ok rn which is cool. But my total bilirubin is 1.4 mg/dl. At 1.5 mg/dl total bilirubin is where we really start looking at the possibility of Cirrhosis. If you don’t know what that is. Google it. Now I’m not saying I have this rn but it seems to be looking that way 🫤
They were telling me they could see my bilirubin trending up over the course of the past few months of bloodwork. Also previously being diagnosed with Splenomegaly which is a tell tale sign of Cirrhosis apparently. They’re pretty sure I have it or will have it. They want to run more tests and see how bad or good it is and we’ll go from there. It seems like they have a pretty good plan. Also for those of you that are going to say get a second opinion.. I got a second and a third. They said the same thing go figure..
So again I find myself going in and out of the hospital again. I don’t wish this life upon anyone. It’s not fun. Being chronically/terminally ill is no fucking joke. If it’s not one thing it’s another. It’s tiring and I’m soo tired. Honestly I can’t wait until it’s all over.. forever.
Anyway I figured I’d give you a bit of an update on my health and such. A lot of you ask in my DMs. It’s hard to answer everyone so a post like this gets it out there. But yea if you made it this far thank you and I love you 🫶🏻
#im sick#still sick#always will be sick#if it’s not one thing it’s another#health#chronic illness#terminally ill#please dont feel sorry for me#I don’t want that#trans#transgender#trans pride#transisbeautiful#mtf#transgirl#girlslikeus#mtf hrt#maletofemale#transformation#trans woman#trans women#trans women are beautiful#transexual#actually trans#this is what trans looks like#trans people#trans positivity#mtf positivity#actually mtf#mtf pride
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ADDICTED — shoko ieiri
synopsis: a half-drunken bet with gojo means that shoko gives up smoking for a week, so she finds other ways (you) to get her fix.
warnings: shoko and gojo’s night out!, fluff, gojo being stingy and shoko bullying him for it, slightly ooc, mentions of suguru, shoko loves you and your lips more, shoko x fem!reader
it was another night out on the town with shoko and gojo who were on their third bar of the night. shoko nursed a vodka cranberry in one hand and a cigarette in the other whilst gojo was on his third highly syrupy sweet ‘mocktail’.
the atmosphere was lively and the conversation that was mainly fuelled by alcohol and high levels of sugar was non stop. they talked about everything from work, high school crushes to which gojo went on a 20 minute deep dive on the non sorcerer guy he briefly dated in junior year.
gojo would eventually find the guys socials but they were on private. which was a bummer but he still requested.
after a while they settled on the topic of health, shoko’s field of expertise. being in their late twenties meant that their bodies were beginning to pay for the late nights, the boozy nights that only came back in flashes and the constant stress and strain of being a jujutsu sorcerer.
“look what i can do!”
shoko hiccuped before taking a long drag from her cigarette and blowing the smoke out from her nostrils. the sugar rush was definitely hitting gojo as he looked at her in wondrous awe.
“whoa, sho did you eat suguru’s dragon curse because that was pretty cool. you’re like part dragon now!” satoru watched with childlike wonder as the tendrils of smoke dissipated into the dense air of the bar making him cough a little.
the sugar high dulled his senses to the point where he didn’t register the two security guards who wordlessly pointed at the no smoking sign dangling right in front of them. shoko quickly downed the contents of her drink before she was escorted out of the bar.
the cold late night weather sobered shoko and gojo up pretty quickly. even in their hazy minds the damage was being undone with rct. they both felt the quiet thrum of rct healing their battered pancreas and livers, the sensation feeling like unblocking a blocked nose.
shoko lit a cigarette whilst her and satoru walked to the nearest train station. “shokoooo.” he whined, crinkling his nose at the smell of smoke wafting through the air making him feel kinda dizzy.
“i don’t get how you enjoy those cancer sticks do you know—”
“yes i know all about how bad smoking is idiot, i heard all about it in med school.” she takes another drag of her cigarette, already sighing.
as if shoko could take another lecture, remembering the pointed gazes that fellow students used to give her whenever the topic of smoking and lung cancer came up in med school. those seemingly pitiful faces were nice until she remembered that she could drop dead and they wouldn’t care.
satoru was never surprised by her lack of tact, it was almost expected from her. he looked unfazed at her attitude, seemingly lost in deep thought which was something satoru did on a rare occasion. he was a man that was driven by impulse, solely held together by the bare bones of logic.
meanwhile shoko could recognise the cogs turning in his labyrinth of a mind, she wondered what spurred this lapse in thought. before the words could escape his lips shoko had already beat him to it.
“no.”
“what i didn’t even say anything!” he pouted, crossing his arms.
she stopped to face him tapping her foot impatiently, when you knew someone like satoru for this long it wasn’t that hard to gauge what he wanted. shoko gave him a look that said well…speak!
“i’ll give you 500 bucks and that special grade curse you’ve been pestering me about, if you quit smoking for a week.” gojo offered, his eyes twinkling with something akin to amusement.
shoko was lowkey offended at the low sum that he was offering her. for a trust fund nepo baby he was being very stingy right now which made zero sense to her.
in shoko’s eyes if you were rich the last thing you could ever be is stingy, especially in satoru’s case as he was heir to a multi million dollar fortune. plus it wasn’t like she needed the money anyways she just liked seeing him spend it on stupid shit.
“satoru i can’t believe that our 10 years of friendship is only worth 5000 yen to you!” she replied with mock offense, placing a hand on her chest for dramatic effect. she leans in closer to him before talking in a hushed voice.
“satoru are you…b-broke?” she gasps, eyes widening with shock. she knew that would hit him where it hurts. even though gojo repeatedly stated money wasn’t important to him, the tick in his jaw said otherwise.
satoru huffs as he fishes out his wallet from the deep depths of his pockets and pulls out several crisp 10000 yen bills. he wafts them in shoko’s face, to which shoko interprets as a desperate attempt to beat the broke allegations.
“now that i have shown you that i have the funds, do we have a deal?” gojo asks once more and shoko reluctantly obliges, taking her last hit of nicotine before she throws her cigarette away. “deal.” she replies, shaking gojo’s hand.
looking back shoko realises that she signed her own death warrant.
it has been three days since shoko made the fateful decision to give up smoking for a week and the withdrawals are hitting her more harder than she expected. she’s been painfully snappy with everyone ever since, especially with the main source of her distress, gojo.
by this time everyone gathered that the morning’s were the worst possible time to talk to shoko for anything, fearing of the wrath that would incur if you did talk to her. she got all the information through email or text
shoko tried to suppress her need for nicotine, from nicotine patches to chewing gum to eating crunchy foods, shoko felt like she was about to develop tmj from all the chewing she was doing and she honestly had enough of it all, she felt like a damn rabbit.
it wasn’t like she could go out and have a quick little smoke when gojo had bribed all the convenience store owners within a 20 mile radius, telling them not to sell any cigarettes to her.
by day five, shoko found a new way to cope with her withdrawal symptoms. you. kissing your sweet lips was what made this hell of a week much more bearable. at first they were fleeting, a quick kiss here and there before you left for work or one to your shoulder whilst she brushed past you in the kitchen.
if shoko wasn’t snacking or chewing she was kissing you every chance she got. "babee" you whined as you tried to break free of her unusually strong grasp. her strength always came as a shock to you even though you knew she trained with the best of the best before becoming a healer.
"why can't you just give me one more, babe?" she pleaded in that breathy whiny voice she knew that would drive you crazy as her dark brown eyes bored into yours. she was a sight to behold.
her moussy brown hair all tousled up, her flushed expression and her pretty pink puffy lips that was making it even harder for you to stay firm in your decision.
her hands still remained on your waist absentmindedly drawing patterns on your skin. "you know you don't have to go through with this." the way she had been going through the motions just to win a stupid bet that gojo would've let her win anyways was ridiculous.
shoko's lips were pressed into a hard line as she considered your response. you were right. regardless if she had won gojo would’ve caved but unfortunately she was stubborn as hell and wanted to prove a point.
so when day seven came rolling around shoko was ready to gloat in gojo’s as well as the all the naysayers faces who secretly bet that she wouldn’t make it through the week (cough cough meimei),
she strolled around campus trying to find the tall lanky white haired sadist who made her week hell but he was posted on another mission.
defeated, shoko headed back to her office her victory becoming less cool now that the person who she wanted to gloat to wasn’t even here. the staff group-chat sent their congratulations but it wasn’t the same. on her desk there was a card written in gojo’s familiar scrawl which read:
congrats for making it through the week! i hope you stop glaring at me in the hallways now, especially since i haven’t written a will yet lmao. i wish i could see you on your victory lap but duty calls hehe. enjoy your cigarettes! — gojo
shoko found the letter endearing and picked up the box of cigarettes he got for her. mild sevens or now known as mevius cigarettes. it’s not like she cared, she grew up calling them mild sevens and that’s what she’ll forever call them.
she grabbed her emergency lighter from her desk and slipped out the back of the building to have her celebratory cigarette. she was accompanied by a gorgeous sunset that the campus basked in making the school seem less eerie and unsettling. the motion of her pulling out a cigarette, lighting it and inhaling was muscle memory to her.
the first hit of nicotine after a week without it was like a relief, all the pent up tension just sliding off her soldiers with ease with each drag she took. a cloud of smoke left her lips as she sat with her back to the wall.
shoko really treasured these smoke breaks as they were a way to cope with the daily hell she experienced each day. the mangled corpses and curses she handled on the regular being just enough to fuel her nightmares for days.
however it wasn’t the worst sight she’s ever seen.
in retrospect the cigarettes paled in comparison to your sweet lips that she alone had the privilege of kissing each and every day. the dopamine rush she got each time rivalled any drug that she could think of.
shoko’s got a new addiction and it’s one that modern medicine cannot fix or provide a solution to, and it’s you.
#shoko ieiri x reader#ieiri shoko x reader#shoko x black!reader#shoko x you#shoko x reader#jjk shoko#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#shoko x y/n#jujutsu kaisen shoko#shoko ieiri#jjk x reader#shoko fluff#shoko smut#vina writes: jjk#shoko ieri x reader#shoko and gojo’s dynamic is everything 2 me!
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Your most vulnerable areas according to the signs
Disclaimer: These are based on personal observations and may not resonate for everyone with these placements. If it doesn’t apply, let it fly 🪽
Aries - Head, Face, Eyes, Brain, Muscular System
If you have significant Aries placements, you may be prone to migraines and headaches. If you play sports or work a highly active/physical job, be careful not to strain your muscles unnecessarily - learn the correct ways to lift and throw objects and maneuver your body. You're passionate and need lots of stimulation, but take time to rest and enjoy some quiet moment so that your eyes and mind get a break.
Taurus - Neck, Throat, Vocal Cords, Thyroid, Metabolic System
If you have significant Taurus placements, you may be prone to frequent colds, sore throat and earache. If you're a singer or heavily rely on your voice for your work, you'll want to take extra care to not damage your vocal cords, even accidentally. You may find that weight comes easily to you for seemingly no reason - have your thyroid checked regularly for signs of under-activity.
Gemini - Arms, Shoulders, Hands, Lungs, Nerves, Nervous System
If you have significant Gemini placements, you may be prone to coughs, colds, sinus issues and respiratory discomfort in general. Remembering to get enough fresh air and avoiding habits like smoking are probably in your best interest. You can also struggle with anxiety and fatigue from nervous exhaustion. Meditation and yoga can help tremendously in these areas.
Cancer - Chest, Breasts, Stomach, Uterus, Diaphragm, Upper Alimentary System
If you have significant Cancer placements, you may be prone to chest pains and digestive issues. Whether the pain is caused by stress, anxiety, poor breathing, or even having heavier breasts, you'll want to identify the root cause and take steps to resolve it before so it doesn't lead to depression. Therapy, meditation, improving your posture or investing in properly supportive garments can help in this regard.
Leo - Chest, Upper Back, Heart, Spine, Cardiac System
If you have significant Leo placements, you may be prone to heartbeat irregularities and high blood pressure. If there is any lesson you must learn from the king of the jungle, it is how to take time to relax. Be mindful of your energy levels and practice keeping calm even in the most infuriating situations. Eat heart-healthy foods and don't be afraid to walk away from people and places that trigger you to roar.
Virgo - Abdomen, Intestines, Lower Liver, Alimentary Canal, Spleen
If you have significant Virgo placements, you may be prone to weight problems (under or over) and stomach/bowel issues. You carry most of your stress in your midsection and have ongoing issues with your appetite and tolerance for food. Either you don't get enough due to stress and food aversions/complications, or you indulge too much in an attempt to relieve your anxiety. You're highly observant and don't miss too many details, so you're in a good position to listen to your body and find a routine that suits your mood and lifestyle.
Libra - Lower Back, Skin, Kidneys, Bladder, Ovaries, Blood
If you have significant Libra placements, you may deal with sensitive skin and also digestive issues. If you like to eat a lot of rich foods, you may need to cut back. Go easy on your stomach. It's okay to have the things you like but do so in moderation so you don't end up feeling constipated or having other bowel issues. Take a little extra time to moisturize your skin and drink a lot of water.
Scorpio - Genitals, Groin, Colon, Sex Organs, Gall Bladder, Rectum, Urogenital System
If you have significant Scorpio placements, you must absolutely take care of your sexual and hormonal health, otherwise you could experience more issues with your libido than others. Nothing wrong with being celibate or abstinent, but if your reasons are because you simply cannot get in the mood, you should get things checked out. And of course, if you have the opposite situation, stay safe and avoid STDs like the plague. Everyone should, but you can have an especially bad or treatment-resistant reaction.
Sagittarius - Hips, Thighs, Sciatic Nerves, Lower Spine, Liver, Autonomic Nervous System
If you have significant Sagittarius placements, you may be prone to falls And injuries that impair your ability to walk. If you have nerve issues or eyesight problems, you want to especially be careful to avoid accidents. As you may experience worse or consequences than some others. Even if you don't experience any major injury, you may notice that you have an unusual walk/gait, or others may point this out to you. Take care to maintain good posture and avoid reckless behavior/dangerous situations.
Capricorn - Skin, Hair, Knees, Bones, Teeth, Joints, Skeletal System
If you have significant Capricorn placements, You may be prone to broken bones or have already experienced this. You're not necessarily a weak person. Rather, you may have strong enough bones, but are just likely to break them if you're not careful about exerting too much force and not paying enough attention during physical activities. The main advice for you is to simply be careful and look before you leap. Literally. I have Capricorn moon and broke a finger playing volleyball and a toe playing soccer. I know two Capricorn suns who broke their arms from doing parkour. My 5H Capricorn BFF broke their wrist from skateboarding. You've been warned. On the bright side, you likely have strong, distinctive, or good looking teeth, maybe even both.
Aquarius - Lower Legs, Calves, Ankles, Circulatory System, Elimination
If you have significant Aquarius placements, you are either smooth in your movements, or you are clumsy and prone to stumbling and running into things. You may also have issues with the circulation in your legs, or have weaker ankles that don't support you very well when walking or standing still for long periods. This may not be something you can do much about through at-home remedies, but if you experience things like varicose veins or discomfort in your legs, have a doctor refer you to a specialist who can recommend corrective shoes or other treatment options.
Pisces - Feet, Toes, Body Fluids, Lymphatic System
If you have significant Pisces placements, I hate to tell you this, but you Are likely to have a weaker immune system than most. You are prone To worrying, or at least overthinking, quite a bit, which doesn't Help matters in the slightest. On a less serious, but no less irritating note. You may also deal with several food issues, including bunions, plantar fasciitis and fungal infections. All of my Pisces sun friends have complained to me about getting athlete's foot from walking around change rooms without slippers, or being unable to wear shoes they liked because of a bunion. But on the bright side, you folks usually have nice feet. Even the men. And I am not a foot person at ALL, so that's saying something coming from me.
𓆩♡𓆪
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In My Time of Dying | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual ?)
Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, hospitals and death and fun stuff like that
Word Count: 2997
A/N: Surprise! It's time for season 2! And as an extra treat, I'm gonna publish episode 2 with this one since it's a little short. Happy reading!! Thank you guys for all the love and support!
Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist
Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist
Supernatural Series Rewrite Playlist
You were completely pinned down beneath the side of the car that had been pushed into your lap in the accident. You clung to Dean still, afraid to move your upper-half and unable to move your bottom. You listened to the slowing rhythm of his heartbeat and willed him to stay alive for you.
Your eyes opened at the sound of Sam groaning.
“Sam!” you exclaimed.
He groaned again, moving his head a little to the direction of the sound of your voice. “(Y/N)?”
Suddenly, the hinges were ripped off the driver’s side door to reveal the demon-possessed driver of the eighteen-wheeler that had struck the Impala.
“Back. Or I'll kill you, I swear to god,” Sam stated firmly.
“You won't. You're saving that bullet for someone else.”
Sam cocked the Colt. “You wanna bet?”
You looked on in fear before the demon poured out of the man, and he collapsed to the ground. You heard the sound of the gun uncocking, and Sam dropped his head back in relief.
“Oh my god!” you heard the trucker’s voice say. “Did I do this?”
“Dean, come on,” you whined. “Please.”
Sam called his brother’s name and told the trucker to call 911. He did so despite his panic. After what felt like forever, emergency services were to you. The EMTs had to pry you off of Dean, and you wailed in agony as they moved your sore body away from him. “No, please! I have to stay with him!”
“Ma’am, don’t fight us, please. We don’t want to hurt you more,” the EMT strapping you into a stretcher and neck brace said. She began to shout your blood pressure and vitals to the uniformed people surrounding you as you called out to Dean again. “Please! Just tell me he’s okay!”
No one would answer you.
“Is he even alive?!”
***
As soon as the doctors told you you could go see Dean, you leapt out of the bed as well as you could on your throbbing leg and bruised rib cage. Thankfully, that was as serious as your injuries got. You had no idea what the Winchesters’ situations were.
You limped down the hallway to Dean’s room just down the hall from yours and took a sharp breath in horror. Wires were hooked up to every part of him. He was intubated, and machines steadily beeped around him. His chest was exposed with electrodes hooked up to it. His forehead had a deep cut running down the center of it, and his body remained lifeless. You tentatively walked over to his bedside and sat in the empty chair next to it. You held his hand tightly and kissed it repeatedly. “Dean, you have to come back to me, please.” Tears streamed down your face.
Sam walked in the room just after you did, giving you his puppy dog eyes at the sight of you holding his brother’s hand and Dean’s body. “Oh, no,” he said.
You dropped Dean’s hand long enough to hobble over to Sam and hug him as tightly as your damaged body would allow. “I’m so glad to see you, man. Are you okay?”
He nodded. “Are you?”
“All things considered, yeah,” you replied.
A doctor entered the room behind you and Sam. “Your father's awake. You can go see him if you like.”
“Doc, what about my brother?” Sam asked.
“Well, he sustained serious injury: blood loss, contusions to his liver and kidney. But it's the head trauma I'm worried about. There's early signs of cerebral edema,” the doctor explained.
“Well, what can we do?” You looked between Sam and the doctor worriedly.
“Well, we won't know his full condition until he wakes up.” The doctor paused. “If he wakes up.”
Your eyebrows shot up. “If?”
“I have to be honest, most people with this degree of injury wouldn't have survived this long. He's fighting very hard. But you need to have realistic expectations.”
Your chest felt like someone was squeezing the air out of you. You began to hyperventilate as you made your way back over to Dean. Using his bed for support, you eased yourself back down into the chair and picked up his hand again.
Sam looked at you sadly before exiting the room, presumably to go see his father.
“It’s gonna be fine,” you muttered. “John ‘ll know what to do. You’re gonna wake up, and I’m gonna tell you everything. You have to come back to me, so I can tell you.” Tears streamed steadily down your face. “You have to come back, Dee. You’re my best friend. I don’t know what I’d do without you, man. I… I need you here. I need you.” You brought his hand up to your lips and just held it there as you sobbed. After a while, you drifted off, crying and holding onto Dean tightly.
***
It had been hours of sitting next to Dean and praying to a god you didn’t believe in that he’d wake up and this would all be over. You needed to tell him the feelings you’d been holding in for the better half of a year now. You needed him to know how much he meant to you.
You just needed to talk to him. And so, you did. “Dean, I’ve never told you this— in fact, I feel weird saying it now— but you matter more to me than anybody else in my life has. You just… you make my day better just by being in it. And I hope I do the same for you.
“Y’know, I never really hated you. You frustrated me so fucking much, but I could never hate you.” You drew in a breath. “I figured out that the reason I thought I hated you was because you challenged me. You told me you found me intimidating, but you never treated me like I was. That’s the difference between you and most other people. You’re fearless. Completely. It scares me sometimes, honestly. But you make me stronger, Dean. And I just… I hope I make you feel half as much as you make me feel. There’s so much I have to tell you when you wake up. I probably won’t say any of this to you while you’re awake— y’know, vulnerability and all that— but… I just needed to say it in case—” Your throat caught. “In case I never see you again.”
***
Another hour had gone by of you sitting with Dean. You refused to move from your spot to eat or drink or go to the bathroom. All that mattered was that you kept your eyes on him. You told yourself that if you could still feel or see him, then he was here. And that was enough.
You stared at his peaceful features. You remembered for a moment what he’d looked like sleeping, and you could almost see it now. However, the wires and tubes obstructing your view kept you grounded in the horrible reality that was the present moment: you and Sam may be leaving without him.
Your heart rate picked up as that thought crossed your mind and began to race even more as Dean flatlined.
“Help, help!” you screamed. You raced out into the hallway. “Code Blue, room 202! Code Blue!”
Doctors and nurses immediately responded to your call and rushed behind you into the room. You watched in horror as they began to try and resuscitate him.
Sam had apparently heard your cries and ran down the hallway to you.
“Sam, he flatlined, he—” You buried your face in his chest, and he guided you into the room against the far wall.
“Still no pulse,” a nurse said. You couldn’t bear to watch as they shocked his lifeless body.
Sam suddenly stiffened against you just as the frantic beeping of the monitors quieted.
“We have a pulse. We're back into sinus rhythm,” the nurse said.
You let go of Sam and breathed deeply as you turned to his brother. You couldn’t get to him due to the doctors and nurses still fussing about, but you smiled briefly at the fact that he was still here. You looked up at the younger brother. “What is it?”
“Nothing, I just thought I heard something,” he said looking around confused. “It felt like Dean.”
You furrowed your eyebrows at him. “What do you mean?”
“Like, he was there, just out of eyeshot or something. I don't know if it's my psychic thing or what, it— But do you think it's even possible? I mean, do you think his spirit could be around?”
You shrugged, suddenly feeling embarrassed of the things you’d admitted to Dean’s unconscious body. “Anything’s possible.”
“Well, there's one way to find out.” Sam began to leave Dean’s room.
“Where are you going?”
“I gotta pick something up. I'll be back. Let me go tell my Dad.”
***
About an hour later, you still sat holding Dean’s right hand. You couldn’t let go now that you’d almost lost him a second time. Sam reentered the room. He was clutching a brown paper bag with an oblong object in his arms.
“Welcome back,” you said. “What’s that?”
Sam seemed embarrassed. “I, uh, almost don’t wanna say.” He pulled out a Ouija Board.
You snorted. “Seriously?”
He ignored you and looked around the room at nothing. “Hey. I think maybe you're around. And if you are, don't make fun of me for this, but um, well, there's one way we can talk.” He sat the box and board on the floor in front of Dean’s bed. You looked on eagerly.
“Dean? Dean, are you here?” He put two fingers on each hand on the planchette. Moments later, it moved to “YES” on the board.
“Sam, don’t tell me you’re doing that,” you breathed out. “Or do, I don’t know which answer I want.”
“It's good to hear from you, man,” Sam laughed. “It hasn't been the same without you, Dean.”
The pointer began to slide around the board. “Dean, what? H? U? Hunt? Hunting? What, are you hunting?”
The pointer slid back to "YES."
“It's in the hospital; what you're hunting? Do— Do you know what it is?” Sam paused and gained his composure. “What is it?”
The pointer slid across the board too fast for you to read from your position next to Dean’s body.
“A reaper. Dean. Is it after you?”
You watched with bated breath as the pointer slid to “YES.”
“If it's here naturally, there's no way to stop it,” Sam murmured. “Man, you're, um—” He got up from the ground and began to pace.
“No, no, no,” you said, looking over to Dean’s peaceful features. “You’re not fucking leaving me, dammit. There’s gotta be a way.”
“Dad'll know what to do.” Sam rushed out of the room, leaving the Ouija board on the ground.
You slowly stood and moved over to the board. You immediately missed the feeling of his hand in yours, even if he couldn’t hold back. You sat before the board and let out a shaky breath, placing your hands on the planchette. “Dee, you still here?”
The planchette slid to “YES” before returning to the middle of the board.
You huffed out an anxious breath. “Did you, um, did you hear what I said earlier?”
It slid back to “YES.”
“Oh, God, um, I’m sorry, I didn’t want to tell you until you were awake again,” you rushed out. “I didn’t— I’m sorry— Can you—”
“S” “L” “O” “W” “D” “O” “W” “N” the board spelled out.
You laughed shakily. “Sorry.” You paused. “Do you— Do you feel the same way?”
The planchette hesitated before sliding over to “YES.” A smile you couldn’t contain spread across your face. “Well, I sure as hell ain’t lettin’ you die now.”
Sam returned moments later carrying his father’s journal. “Hey. So Dad wasn't in his room.”
“Where is he?” you asked.
“Who knows? Maybe there's something here.” He tapped the journal before leafing through it. He stopped on the page that said “Reapers.”
“How’s this supposed to help us, Sam? We already know we can’t kill ‘em,” you stated.
“I know, I know, I just… I thought maybe there’d be something else here. A way to… bargain with ‘em or something.”
You smiled at him sadly. Not knowing what else to say, you told him, “I know he appreciates that you’re not givin’ up on him, Sammy.”
***
Hours later, Sam had poured through almost every page of the journal. He paced around the room and began talking to Dean’s spirit. “Dean, are you here? I couldn't find anything in the book. I don't know how to help you. But I'll keep trying, all right? As long as you keep fighting.
"I mean, come on you can't, you can't leave me here alone with Dad. We'll kill each other, you know that.” He stopped and stood over you, looking down at his brother. “Dean, you gotta hold on. You can't go, man, not now. We were just starting to be brothers again. Can you hear me?”
***
You had even slept with Dean’s hand in yours through the night. Sam had gone in and out of the room a few times, but never John.
“Sam, what do we do, man?” You brushed a hand over your eyes, feeling exhausted and fueled by emotion all at once.
He shook his head. “I’m thinkin’, okay?” he snapped.
“Sorry,” you muttered after a moment.
“Me, too,” he said.
Suddenly, Dean shot up and gasped, choking on the tube in his throat.
“Help! I need help!” you called into the hallway.
***
“I can't explain it. The edema's vanished,” the doctor explained. “The internal contusions are healed. Your vitals are good. You have some kind of angel watching over you.”
“Thanks, doc,” Dean said.
Your stomach sank knowing Dean didn’t remember what you’d said to him while he’d been unconscious, but you felt comforted knowing he felt the same way. You’d tell him when he was out of that crummy hospital gown, that somehow, he still managed to make look attractive.
Dean turned to his brother. “So, you said a Reaper was after me?”
You and Sam nodded.
“How'd I ditch it?”
You shrugged. “We don’t know. You really don’t remember… anything?”
“No. Except this pit in my stomach. (Y/N), something's wrong.”
The three of you turned your head to a knock at the door. John limped in for the first time you’d seen him since the accident. You fought the urge to start yelling at him about how he hadn’t come to see his son.
“How you feeling, dude?” John asked his son.
“Fine, I guess. I'm alive.”
John smiled sadly for a reason you couldn’t place. “That's what matters.”
“Where were you last night?” Sam was angry.
“I had some things to take care of.”
Sam scoffed. “Well, that's specific. Did you go after the demon?”
“No.”
“You know, why don't I believe you right now?”
John half-smiled despite the situation. “Can we not fight?” he pleaded. “You know, half the time we're fighting, I don't know what we're fighting about. We're just butting heads. Sammy, I— I've made some mistakes. But I've always done the best I could. I just don't want to fight anymore, okay?”
Sam cocked his head to the side. “Dad, are you alright?”
He nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I'm just a little tired. Hey, son, would you, uh, would you mind getting me a cup of caffeine?”
Sam left you and Dean with John.
“I, uh, have a thing. At a… place,” you mumbled awkwardly, leaving the room. You stood outside and waited for Sam to return, bouncing on your heels and thinking about how and when you were going to tell Dean how you felt for the second time.
You were pulled out of your thoughts by John putting a hand on your shoulder. Strangely, he pulled you into a hug. “I’m happy I ran into you in Jericho. Thanks for watching my boys.” And with that, he left. You watched him retreat back to his room for a moment before heading back in to see Dean.
“Hey,” you said awkwardly.
“Hey,” he responded, seeming a little out of it. “What’re you nervous about?”
“I feel like the timing’s really bad for me to tell you,” you responded. "Especially with your dad and his cryptic thing he did just now."
“Well, now you definitely have to,” Dean half-smirked.
You took a deep breath. “While you were… out… I told you something.”
He looked at you expectantly.
You huffed out a quick breath. “You remember that stupid pinky promise I made you make? You told me I confuse you, and you promised to tell me why someday. Is… Are you? I mean— Jesus, I’m never like this—”
Before you or Dean could continue, you suddenly heard Sam screaming, “Help! Somebody, help!” from down the hall. You and Dean jerked to attention and looked at each other briefly before leaping off the bed and running down the hall. When you reached the doorway, John was being taken away from Sam and Sam was shoved out of the room.
A nurse tried to shove you and Dean away as well. “No, no, no, it's our dad. It's our dad!”
She stopped pushing you and allowed you to stay by the door.
“C’mon, John,” you muttered. “C’mon.”
“Okay, stop compressions.”
Your heart sank watching Dean’s horrified face as they called the time of his father's death.
Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld
#dean winchester#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x you#dean winchester x y/n#dean x reader#dean x you#dean x y/n#spn#spn series rewrite#supernatural#supernatural series rewrite
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How often have you been involved in cannon warfare? It's almost a cliché at this point. You and a couple of the guys from law school get a bit tooled up, steal a galleon from the dock, and set out for the open seas and a life of adventure. Trouble is, you forgot to let the Spanish navy know that you were just borrowing it. Now they're shooting four-inch chunks of red-hot steel at your dumb ass, and you suddenly remembered you don't know how to swim.
What do you do in this increasingly-common dilemma? The obvious thing to do is to fly the flag of surrender. Throw up a white sheet on the main mast and hope for leniency. Of course, this assumes that someone on board is both A) sober enough to climb, and B) brave enough to climb at the same time, which is a rare pairing of qualities in your flunky friend group. Plus, everyone knows chicks dig it when you fight back against the vicious whims of an unjust government that wants you to return their boat. Cowardice is right out.
Here's my pitch, instead. What you should have done before you pickled your liver this evening was buy Seat Safety Switch's Ship Stealing Sinsurance. For just a mere five doubloons a night (assuming you've been paying us for at least 40 nights of debauchery before any claim,) we'll negotiate with your local belligerent government for a ceasefire and a return to civility. Sure, you'll have to bring back the ship, but at least you'll do so mostly intact. And with your legal training, I'm sure you can talk your dumb ass out of the guillotine (or firing squad) afterward. No problem at all.
Are you not planning on stealing any ships? That's what they all say, but that's where the real beauty of our scheme – I mean financial instrument – comes in. If the ship you're on is stolen by pirates, then you can also claim any damages to your person and goods! Don't even think of claiming against those menacing kraken attacks, though. Squid is not covered by our basic or professional policies.
So sign up today, and take the future into your own hands, as long as you read your entire policy first. You really don't want to be trying to wage war at sea against the Dutch and find out that you only covered the longboats because you're trying to save a few bucks.
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Why the Spleen Sucks
The spleen is a really shittily placed organ, making it prone to injury. This injury is usually severe and can lead to death if not properly managed. We're going to look at the function of the spleen, what happens when it is damaged, and how to write about.
Where is the spleen? It's in the upper left quadrant of the abdominal cavity, nestled right against the ribs (typically 9-11) at the midaxillary line. It's behind the stomach and is considered intraperitoneal. The main thing is that the spleen is very vulnerable. It is literally right up against the ribs without much protecting it. It's shaped like a little bean and is purple in humans. It is fed by the splenic artery, which comes off of the celiac trunk (which sticks off of the abdominal aorta).
What does the spleen do? Its main job is to filter out old and malformed red blood cells. It also holds immune cells. Certain diseases can cause the spleen to enlarge, including cirrhosis of the liver (it's connected to the hepatic portal system), sickle cell anemia (RBCs are stuck in it), and autoimmune disorders. The spleen also holds about 250 mL of RBCs in reserve in case you need them.
What happens when it is injured? The spleen can be ruptured and lacerated kinda easily. Blunt trauma to the ribs can cause it to rupture, and this is seen in contact sports and car accidents mostly. Because of those giant gaps between the ribs, it's also prone to injury from knife attacks. Gunshot wounds are another common cause, as well as broken ribs penetrating it (broken ribs are very sharp, like way sharper than you imagine). Rupture is more likely when someone has splenomegaly.
When the spleen is damaged, you're going to get a lot of intraperitoneal hemorrhaging. The spleen filters a lot of blood and has blood in it, so there's going to be a lot of blood in the abdomen (obviously). This will lead to distention, guarding (abs are tense), and hypovolemia. The left upper quadrant will be painful, and there can also be referred pain to the left shoulder (Kehr's sign).
If the patient has a small laceration, the symptoms aren't always as dramatic. Sometimes they'll just have low hemoglobin (which is on RBCs), maybe some thrombocytopenia (lots of platelets in the blood).
How do you fix this? If the injury is small and the patient is hemodynamically stable, they can usually be given a blood transfusion and the spleen can heal itself. Sometimes surgery is also performed to clamp a vessel or repair the outer layer of the spleen.
If the injury is major, then surgery will be performed. If the patient is less critical, they may go in and try to fix the problem. If it can't be fixed, they may do a splenectomy (remove the spleen). In a critical patient, they might forgo the nice pretty incision on the left side, and instead just split the patient down the middle. In these situations (in my experience), there isn't a lot of time to waste. One thing that we aren't going to waste time on is anesthesia, for example. This is with a lot of very critical surgeries, at least from what I have seen. Like the surgeon will start cutting as they are working on knocking out the patient, but usually they are in so much pain that they don't even register it.
If you remove the spleen, the patient is more at risk for infections, but with modern medicine and vaccinations, it's not as much of a big deal as it used to be. The patient will probably be fine.
Writing tips: (new section idea, hope you guys like it, lol) As with any injury, you have to make sure that you are giving them an acceptable mechanism of injury. With the spleen, this is either blunt trauma or penetration/laceration. Getting tackled, getting stabbed, getting shot, all great MOIs.
Second thing, present the appropriate signs and symptoms. A sign would be like bruising, hypotension, tachycardia, etc. A symptom would be LUQ pain, Kehr's sign, etc.
Next, figure out what you're going to do and where you're going to do it. In the field, there probably isn't much you can do. The most would probably be a laparotomy and clamping the splenic artery, but I mean, when I was an EMT, we were not doing this. There's a lot of stuff you can theoretically do, but never gets done. But I mean you can write it. If the patient makes it to the hospital, I think it would be more fun to do emergency surgery and just split them right down the middle. There's going to be a lot of blood in the greater omentum, very high stakes and exciting.
Anyways, hope you guys liked this, please let me know if I got anything wrong. I wrote this off of my personal experience and a few good textbooks, but there can always been mistakes in things.
#medicine#med student#medical school#biology#med school#med studyblr#whump writing#anatomy#spleen#hospital whump#surgery#emergency medicine#medical writing#writing reference#injury
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my liver shows signs of fatty liver disease. they discovered this in June and I did not hear about it until January. I’m getting a scan tomorrow to examine it. the doctor said “it’s probably nothing to worry about it’s probably because of your diet” I eat very little and what I do eat is light on my tummy so I asked her if it could possibly be because of the cocktail of drugs I’m on and the fact I live on Tylenol since I’m in constant fucking pain and they do nothing about it. she says no. I go home and google the strong immunosuppressant I’m on. the first side effect listed is liver damage. ahahahahaha. I want to throttle somebody. it’s like I’m screaming at the top of my lungs and cannot be heard. wish me the best of luck!
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Pretty when I cry by Camila Cabello for TASM!Peter Parker.
Or
Birds of a feather by Billie Eilish for TASM!Peter Parker.
Pretty When I Cry
wc: 0.8k
tasm!peter parker x reader
this is a bit angsty so beware!
You look good, really good. In the way that Peter doesn't know what he should be doing anymore. Makeup smudged all around your eyes, a shiny dress of some kind and the most beautiful clear tears adorn your cheeks like small crystals. You always get sad when you're drunk, and he always takes you home when you're drunk.
Peter hates clubs. He always has. When he was younger, he couldn’t stand places with too much noise or too many people or too many random stains, and all of his dislikes increased abundantly after he got bit. It’s been so many years and Peter still hates clubs, he can’t fathom why anybody would ever willingly spend their Friday night in one. But, ever since you both turned old enough to frequent one, you would bring him there and he would look after you. And without a doubt, every Friday since he broke your heart, Peter continues to lurk in the club near your apartment and watch over you.
Yes, your friends can look after you, and it’s dingy and dirty and downright disgusting, but you’re there too. Every Friday, you’re there, so every Friday, Peter will be there too with a watchful eye.
You were Peter’s classmate, then the cute girl who found out about his double life, and then his girlfriend. You both had grown up together. Your first drink was a shot shared with Peter; it was sour and caused a visceral reaction, and that night, he gently lay you in your bed after the alcohol had suspended you in a drunken stupor. Peter promised you that night that he would be there for every drunken evening, and he hadn't yet broken that promise.
Every Friday, you would dress up in your finest party outfit, anything that you could scrummage from anywhere to try to get your mind off the love of your life's swift abandonment. And you knew you were doing something right, because without a doubt, Peter would end up taking off your shoes and draping warm blankets over your tired body. The liver damage was worth the potential undoing of the damage that Peter inflicted on your heart.
Your arms begin to drop more when you dance; Peter knows your tells and he can see that you are exhausted from the hours of dancing and drinking. He looks so out of place, in a dark hoodie with some darker jeans to let him blend into the background; he must be naive if he thinks you don’t notice him even in the dark. Peter shoves through people. He’s going to take you home: seat you in his car, play your favourite music and hold the back of your seat to pretend that he is holding your hand and resting alongside you. You both participate in this routine every week like clockwork. He picks you up out of the crowd and drives you back to your place, he helps you get unready and takes off your makeup and whispers whatever he wishes he could say when you’re sober, and then he breaks off completely and leaves you alone in your apartment without a note or a message or any indication that he still cares.
But today, something feels different, you’re completely silent in the car. No humming or mumbling or even moving, something has washed over you. Your eyes are even glossier than usual, a telltale sign of an incoming sob- but you’re still dead quiet. “Hey, are you ok?” Hif voice is soft and it floats around you like music.
“Why did you leave me,” in the lowest whisper you can muster up. If Peter’s car was any older and louder, he wouldn’t have been able to hear that question, and for a fourth time, he feels his heart shatter.
How can he properly explain to you all of the guilty nights, knowing that you were in danger. There were a myriad of villains who hated him enough to try to find you, to try to hurt you, and everyday that you loved him felt like another death sentence. So he ended it. Looking after you from afar was still looking after you, and even if it felt like a prison of his own making, he was keeping the promise he made you. Maybe it was selfish, but he hadn't taken the time to consider how horrible you felt too. “Just… you keep coming back, and I keep wanting you to come back, but then you leave again.”
Your voice seems so small now in comparison to how much space and attention you try to take up on the dance floor. And you look so pretty, then and now, even with your mascara making trails down your cheeks and your lipstick smudged and your tears wet. “I’m sorry,” is all he can muster up.
“Just take me home.” You turn to the window and watch whatever drives by. Next week and the weeks after that, Peter won't be there, and eventually you will stop frequenting that club. But he won't stop taking care of you, even if you don't know and you don't stop missing him, not until he comes home to you.
#my writing#tasm!peter parker angst#tasm peter parker#tasm!peter x reader#tasm!peter x you#tasm spiderman#tasm 2#tasm!peter imagine#tasm fanfiction#tasm andrew garfield#tasm fic#peter parker#peter parker x reader#andrew garfield#spider man#spiderman#marvel#mcu
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How Planets Affect Our Health and Body
People with exhalted sun, or sun with fiery planets like Mars and south node could suffer from baldness.
Debilated sun, like in libra or cancer could cause you heart problems.
Sun afflicted by south node or north node or when gets debilated libra or water signs, could give eyes related problems, or bones issue.
Sun or Mars in Scorpio though considered exalted could give piles
Mars when gets debilated in water signs like fourth house, or twelfth house or afflicted by south node or north node could give skin problems.
Debilated Jupiter in Capricorn or when afflicted by south node north node or when combust with sun could cause liver problems and cholesterol.
In extreme case, bad Jupiter could cause cancer as well.
Bad Venus or when afflicted could cause impotency in men especially when Venus is with south node.
Venus is always exalted in water signs in fourth house and in pieces.
Fast moving planets like Mercury and moon in twelfth house could give you insomnia.
Moon is in when sixth, eighth and twelfth could give you mental issues, as you can't let things go easily from you.
Remedy is too give power to moon.
Issues, like migraine and bloating, pain in legs and teeth are caused by bad Saturn.
Bad ketu or south node in chart could give problems of back pain and urinary tract infection and problems related to ears..
Bad north node or rahu could give you hallucinations, schizophrenia and phobias and disconnect you from reality.
Bad or afflicted Mercury could cause you ADHD, anxiety, learning issues and speech problems like stammering, stutter and lisp.
If the fifth house is damaged by rahu, ketu or Saturn or if Jupiter is afflicted or debilated in women then it can cause, infertility or trouble during childbirth.
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I think another thing that is hard with writing Harry's alcohol use is that it's very likely that he has cirrhosis (??)
I'm not a doctor but I think that's irreparable liver failure. usually asymptomatic until its later terminal stage, called 'uncompensated cirrhosis'. almost always fatal in a matter of months/years unless someone gets a liver transplant.
I don't think Pain Threshold is wrong. a loved one of mine died like this. to me it seems like with Harry's symptoms a MONTH would be generous. with these signs Harry is ACTIVELY dying.
I struggle to ignore the fact that it's almost outright stated by the narrative. tho to be fair it's just aside dialogue by Kim and during the game you can go on drinking and not die
(also this dialogue is from early in the game and Kim gets better. but great show of priorities, Kim. thanks for that. also 'the organization would miss you' lol. lmao, even. /s)
there's also the matter of alcohol withdrawal. for a game written by addicts (correct me if I'm wrong) who faithfully represent the experience it's also puzzling that Harry seems to exhibit no symptoms of withdrawal. I will update with a source but at some point I remember the devs mentioning that a couple of them prefer the sobriety route. so it's weird that this isn't touched on
now I personally interpret the game as a semi-hopeful one and idk with the tone of the game it doesn't FEEL like Harry's going to canonically die like 2 weeks after the game ends. it could just be a handwave from the writing because this is a video game with video game mechanics and not a medical documentary but.
I personally headcanon that there's something entroponetic that's keeping Harry alive. (the city? pale exposure? a miracle? THE miracle? all of those and more?) that might explain the lack of withdrawal symptoms and. everything else
it might explain why he can CHANGE HIS BIOLOGY and no longer 'benefit' from alcohol or drugs just by completing a mind project (see the thoughts 'Wasteland of Reality' and 'Opioid Receptor Antagonist') also why he can reverse PHYSICAL DAMAGE by using a damn nasal spray and a blister pack of panadeine forte. why he can dance right after taking two bullet wounds.
aaand I forgot the point I was trying to make when I started writing this. just food for thought. I haven't seen anyone else mention this
#disco elysium#harry du bois#anyway please please correct me if I am wrong#I just wanna bring this up and talk about it it's been driving me up the wall#ah. I have once again forgotten to take my ADHD medication
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Erin Brockovich: What’s at Stake in November
July 30, 2024
By Erin Brockovich
Ms. Brockovich is an environmental activist.
Every day, I get emails from people asking for help. They think I’m a lawyer. I’m not. They want to know what caused their cancer or why their farm has tested high for chemicals they’ve never heard of. They want someone to fight for them.
The recent Supreme Court decision overturning the 40-year-old Chevron precedent, which allowed federal agencies to interpret the laws they oversee, should wake us up to how truly alone we are when it comes to environmental health protections. If Donald Trump wins in November, things could go from bad to worse. Progress to protect Americans from dangerous chemicals could reach a standstill.
I could list dozens, if not thousands, of contaminants we come in contact with, some regulated by federal and state agencies, and others not. I’ll focus on per- and polyfluoroalkyl substances, or PFAS, a class of thousands of synthetic chemicals that are finally being recognized for the damage they cause.
PFAS are known as “forever chemicals” because they persist in the environment and in human bodies for decades. These chemicals have been used to make common items from textiles to adhesives to food packaging to firefighting foams to nonstick cookware.
The health problems associated with exposure to PFAS include fertility issues, developmental delays in children and increased risk of certain cancers and of obesity, according to the Environmental Protection Agency. Scientists have detected PFAS chemicals in the blood of almost all Americans.
Sign up for the Opinion Today newsletter Get expert analysis of the news and a guide to the big ideas shaping the world every weekday morning. Get it sent to your inbox. What’s frustrating is that we’ve known for decades which industries use these chemicals, and we’ve known they are accumulating in the environment. But companies and our regulators delayed action.
Take just one example. From the 1950s through the 1970s, 3M dumped its PFAS waste into pits around Minnesota’s eastern Twin Cities metro area. That led to a more than 150-square-mile plume of contaminated groundwater. Subsequent testing revealed that by 2004, more than 140,000 Minnesotans had tainted drinking water. Years later, a young woman named Amara Strande grew up near the plume.
In 2023, Ms. Strande testified in front of Minnesota lawmakers in support of legislation that would restrict PFAS, which she believed caused her rare form of liver cancer. She died weeks before legislation known as Amara’s Law banned the use of PFAS in Minnesota. She was 20 years old. There are more cases like hers.
The number of U.S. communities reportedly contaminated with PFAS compounds continues to grow. Last year, one or more types of PFAS were detected in almost half of the nation’s tap water.
People like to talk about the risks of federal oversight and regulations. But without those basic guardrails in place, large companies get to do whatever they want, and hard-working Americans get sick.
Some much needed action was taken on PFAS at the national level recently. In April, the E.P.A. mandated that municipal water systems remove six PFAS chemicals from tap water. Such efforts are now at risk.
Under the Supreme Court’s recent Chevron ruling, federal judges get the final say on how laws including the Clean Water Act and the Safe Drinking Water Act should be applied. This weakens the ability of regulatory agencies to do their jobs protecting the public’s health from problems such as PFAS. Future pollution cases could meander through the federal court system for years while drinking water remains contaminated.
Companies will take advantage of this ruling. Water utility and chemical manufacturing companies have filed challenges with the E.P.A., calling the rule “arbitrary, capricious, and an abuse of discretion.”
Now imagine you take these kneecapped regulations and pair them with a second Trump presidency. President Trump rolled back decades of clean-water protections and dozens of environmental rules. The E.P.A. is still reeling from the exodus of more than 1,200 scientists and policy experts during his administration. One of his political appointees meddled with a PFAS assessment, weakening the toxicity value of a chemical.
The E.P.A. already had its problems, but the agency fared even worse under Mr. Trump. He repeatedly tried to slash the E.P.A.’s budget and many staff members fled, meaning fewer inspectors, fewer resources to study the impact of toxins and more companies contravening environmental regulations.
I recently reviewed Project 2025, a playbook for the first 180 days of the potential next Trump administration. (Mr. Trump says he doesn’t support the project, though many of his former White House employees are involved.) In the E.P.A. chapter, PFAS are mentioned twice. Project 2025 says the administration should revise groundwater cleanup regulations and policies to reflect the challenges of contaminants such as PFAS, which seems fair. But then it also says the administration should revisit the E.P.A. designation of PFAS chemicals as “hazardous substances” under the Comprehensive Environmental Response, Compensation, and Liability Act (CERCLA), also known as Superfund. That seems contradictory and ill advised. The designation helps make available CERCLA’s enforcement tools and cost recovery, ensuring that the polluters, not taxpayers, fund or conduct investigations and cleanup.
I’m not giving Democratic administrations a pass. We need more accountability for the environmental ills that have passed under their watch. These include the water crisis in Flint, Mich., and Jackson, Miss. The state and federal responses to the toxic train derailment in East Palestine, Ohio, left much to be desired. We must expect more from those we put in office; our lives depend on it.
The E.P.A. used to have bipartisan support. The Reagan administration changed that when President Ronald Reagan appointed a corporation-friendly E.P.A. administrator who railed against government regulation.
Rules are effective only if they can be enforced. State and federal agencies have done a poor job of building meaningful enforcement into the well-intentioned regulations that have been enacted, and they must do better. Americans’ health is at risk.
https://www.nytimes.com/2024/07/30/opinion/erin-brockovich-pfas.html
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