#St. Francis Hospital

[wombocombo4x3]

St. Francis Hospital - Remix Cover (Trauma Center: Second Opinion) [Rema...

[kampalaedgetimes]

Trending: Fik Gaza, 3 Others Arrested for Robbery

[hoggleswart]

＂    i  wouldn’t  dream  of  it.      ⸻      i  grew  up  in  a  family  that  very  firmly  believe  snitches  get  stitches,  and  i  like  to  avoid  those  as  often  as  possible.  had  enough  to  last  me  a  lifetime.    ＂      it’s  as  simple  as  that.  not  because  seamus  overly  believes  in  a  tired  motto  himself,  but  because  he’s  been  here;    clawing  at  hospital      (    or  in  his  case,  infirmary    )      walls,  desperately  seeking  an  escape  from  the  haunting  silence.  it’s  the  very  same  reason  he  refused  treatment,  preferring  to  keep  injured  arm  in  sling  as  skele-gro  works  wonders.  it  seems  antigone  hasn’t  been  granted  the  pleasure  of  options,  though  he  can’t  pretend  he’s  surprised.  images  of  them  and  their  sibling  have  been  hard  to  shake  since  the  attack,  yet  another  traumatic  memory  to  add  to  his  never  -  ending  collection.  sometimes  he  wonders  if  his  mother  was  right  to  keep  him  back  in  ireland,  tucked  away  safe  in  muggle  world.    ⸻    but  then  he  also  wonders  what  might’ve  happened  if  he  let  her,  how  much  worse  events  could  be  with  one  less  person  to  defend  and  he  knows  he  prefers  to  be  present,  even  if  it  comes  with  consequences.  hefty  sigh  heaves  from  chest,  a  slight  shake  in  breath  that  stems  from  anxiety    &    unspoken    (    could  he  have  done  more    /    moved  faster?    )    guilt,  slowly  perching  to  sit  beside  them.      ＂    no  one  would  blame  ye’  if  you  were.  in  fact,  if  you  need  help  breaking  out,  just  blink  twice.  i’ll  jump  right  on  it.    ＂

𝙻𝙾𝙲𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽  :  ( outside ) st mungo's hospital, london  !

"don't tell on me," it's a simple thing, that request. almost laughable, at their age, but antigone has been subject to the whims of everyone but herself for the past week and as childish as it sounds, it's about what this amounts to - the difference between temporary freedom and a stuffy, private room that she has been forced to stand despite the discomfort that goes all the way down to bone boils down to whether her new companion feels inclined to tattle. she's not doing much. it's obvious she's not meant to be there, hunkered down on a stone bench in her dressing gown, hours past visiting and past the gardens being a warm and welcoming retreat, but anything is better than inside. she tells them, voice small, "i just wanted some fresh air. i'm not a flight risk. promise," and uses a bandaged hand to cross her heart. where would she go? the funny thing about loss is how it leaves you only wanting the person you'll never be able to run to again.

[royalty-nobility]

Queen Elizabeth of Hungary and the Court Painter

Artist: James Dromgole Linton (English, 1840–1916)

Date: c. 1910

Medium: Oil on canvas

Collection: Sheffield Museums, United Kingdom

Elizabeth of Hungary

Elizabeth of Hungary (7 July 1207 – 17 November 1231), also known as Elisabeth of Thuringia, was a princess of the Kingdom of Hungary and the landgravine of Thuringia.

Elizabeth was married at the age of 14, and widowed at 20. After her husband's death, she regained her dowry, using the money to build a hospital where she herself served the sick. She became a symbol of Christian charity after her death in 1231 at the age of 24 and was canonized on 25 May 1235. She is venerated as a saint by the Catholic Church. She was an early member of the Third Order of St. Francis, and is today honored as its patroness.

[2inx4inx8inbrick]

St. Francis Lifeguard two N493LG at CommonSpirit St. Francis Hospital

taken 2/27/25

[kaytheday]

The Weight of the Eldest Brother

Hello! This is my submission for Day 4 of @outsidersweek

This submission is pretty long. I know that today has been a difficult day for everyone (which is probably why this fic is so long 😭), if anyone needs someone to talk to or vent to, just PM me! I am here for anyone who needs it. More under the cut!

On the rare occasions that Darry Curtis Jr. got nervous, he would feel irritable. Sweating incessantly as his fuse was cut short. He knew that a nervous Ponyboy would start shaking, going pale and sometimes even throwing up. Ponyboy had confessed that the few track meets that college scouts had stopped by to watch, he’d been so nervous he’d thrown up. Soda would turn into a firecracker, unpredictable and unable to concentrate, sleep, or even sit still for more than a few seconds. His restlessness would only grow as the nerves ate at him. 

Now, Darry sat completely still on that hospital bench. He was sweating and staring at the floor and feeling like he might throw up. He was nervous. That’s what he assumed this feeling was anyway.

This felt worse than the time with his parents. Somehow, this was ten thousand times worse. He didn’t know what he would do if-

“Mr. Curtis?” He turned to find the coroner looking at him expectantly. “Are you ready to go down?��� 

Soda had been missing for upwards of three days. It wasn’t unusual for him to disappear for small stretches of time, it wasn’t like he lived at home anyway. But he usually found Ponyboy or Steve and went to hunt down some action. Neither of them had seen him since the fight. 

Darry and him had gotten into a terrible fight. The kind of fight that no longer becomes about what you were first fighting about, instead becoming a contest of who can say the nastiest thing. 

So Soda had stormed out. 

And Darry doesn’t even remember what it is that he said. He said a lot of terrible things that night, any one of them could have been the reason Soda stormed out. But he doesn’t remember. And now it might be the last thing he ever said to his brother. And he doesn’t even remember it. What an asshole. 

There in the hospital's ground floor, Darry just gulps and gives the Coroner a nod. Standing on shaky legs and following him to the hospital morgue… the same one where his brother might be lying. 

“Are you feeling alright Mr. Curtis?” Darry jumps a little, of course he’s not feeling alright. The last time he was here it was to identify two different members of the Curtis family.

It seemed like a lifetime ago but he still remembers it like it was yesterday. Their bodies were still fresh from the crash. Mottled and bloody but despite the disfiguration, Darry knew it was them. It just reminded him of something that his Momma used to say to him when he was little and wanted to help hold Ponyboy. 

“How come he only stops crying when you hold him?”

“Ponyboy loves you very much but sometimes babies just want their momma. A baby will always know his momma.” 

His mothers words certainly rang true on that terrible night. Even in death his mother was very beautiful. She would have been glad that her baby boy always knew his momma… even in death. 

He’d hoped that would be the last time he would ever receive a call from the coroner's office.

Luckily, it was his day off and even more luckily, he was the only one home. 

“Hello Mr. Curtis, this is Jeff Alberts. I am a chief coroner with St. Francis hospital, I may have some very bad news regarding your brother…” That was all Darry heard before his world shattered into a million pieces. 

Somehow this was worse. He thought the universe would have cut them a break by now, but this was worse. This was worse than his parents, worse than Johnny and Dally, worse than that damned draft letter that started this whole mess in the first place. 

“I feel fine.” Darry told the coroner. “Just a little lightheaded.” He doesn't know what it was in him that told the coroner that. Probably the fact that this coroner seemed like a real adult and Darry felt like the same scared little kid that had to identify their parents' disfigured bodies with his little brothers at home. Darry was still that same scared kid that stepped up to raise his two little brothers all while simultaneously messing things up even more. 

He didn’t have time to think about Ponyboy right now. He couldn’t imagine what Ponyboy would do if the body he found in the morgue was-

“I know these situations are very difficult, do you need to sit down for a minute? I can grab you some water if you’d like.” 

“No, I’m okay.” 

“Okay.” They went down a few more stairs. “The man we received in the morgue came in with a stab wound among other lacerations…” With each word Darry felt himself getting sicker. He needed to throw up or punch something or maybe both. “...also found various evidence that he may have been on drugs or with someone who was using.” Then the coroner launched into an explanation of the man’s physical description, a lot of which matched Soda exactly. 

Stay standing. Darry told himself. You can’t stop now. It was the same stuff he had told himself the first time he had come here. It was awful when his parents were killed. Darry had felt worse than he’d ever felt before. Beyond terrible, Ponyboy had been throwing up because of how hard he was crying and Sodapop looked about ready to combust at the way he was moving. But Darry was the one that couldn’t stop, the one that had to pull them together, take charge, and make sure everything was okay. Nobody else was going to do it. 

“Are you ready to go in Mr. Curtis?” Darry took a deep breath, steeling himself for the worst. He could say no, he could tell the coroner that he needed a minute. But it was better that he just do it now. It was better that he just went in immediately. Afterwards he would need to call Ponyboy and tell him that it was Sod-

“Do you need another minute son?” Darry couldn’t breathe. Just breathe. Just calm down. He tried to take another deep breath. “Son?” 

“Okay. Let’s go in.” 

The room smelled the same way that it had when he’d been there the first time. The body was underneath a sheet on a metal table. The table had some flecks of blood on its shiny exterior. Darry went and stood next to the body on one side. 

“I’m going to pull the sheet down now. Is it alright if I do that Mr. Curtis?” Darry bit his lip and nodded. He didn’t really have a choice, he had to know. He had to know so he could figure out a way to pull their family back together again. How would Ponyboy take this? Darry hadn’t even told him about this, Pony was at work anyway. Home from school for the summer but more importantly to see Soda after his tour  in Vietnam. Darry didn’t know what Ponyboy would do if he found out his favorite brother had been killed. Ponyboy had already lost so much. He couldn’t take losing one more. How could Darry take it?

The sheet came down. 

The relief that flooded through him was instant. It had him nearly swaying on his feet, his eyes growing hot and wet as he stared at the body that wasn’t Sodapop. 

He could understand how the coroner thought it was Sodapop, especially considering it was Soda’s wallet they found in his pocket. This guy looked nearly the same, but there were a couple clear differences. This guy's nose had been broken more than once and his hair was longer. Soda had barely had time to grow out his hair since the four months he’d been out of the army.  This guy was also missing the scar that Soda had on his neck from Two-Bit throwing a bottle at him three years ago. 

“Is this your brother, son?” 

It’s not him. It’s not Sodapop. 

“No, it's not him.” The doctor looked skeptical. 

“Are you sure? Sometimes in death our loved ones can-.” 

“I’m sure. It’s not him.” Darry interrupted. This wasn’t like the first time, with his parents. He had known immediately as soon as he’d seen their mangled faces that it was them. This was completely different. 

“Okay.” The doctor said softly, pulling the sheet back over the man's face. “You are free to go Mr. Curtis. Thank you for coming in.” Darry still had Soda’s wallet in his back pocket. He was relieved but still worried. If he wasn’t here, where was he?

Before he knew it Darry was putting a dime in the slot of the hospital payphone. 

“Hello?” Ponyboy.

“Hey kiddo.”

“Hey Darry, what’s going on?” He sounded genuinely confused and maybe a little worried. He had a right to be. Darry didn’t usually leave the house during his days off and then mysteriously call home and not say anything. 

Darry thought about telling him. He thought about telling him everything. The coroner's office, the guy who looked like Sodapop, the pit in his stomach. But he couldn’t tell Ponyboy. He shouldn’t even have to be worrying about Darry in the first place.  

“Just makin’ sure you made it home from work okay.” 

“Sure.” Pony said slowly, still confused. “You okay? Where are you calling from?” Of course the kid would pick up that something was wrong. 

“Just the gas station. I’m headed home in a minute.” 

“Okay, I’ll see you when I get home then.”

“Okay, bye Pone.” 

“Bye Darry.” And just like that the call dropped. At least he had one brother accounted for. 

Darry didn’t even really remember the drive home. He did that sometimes. His head filled with so much worry and stress that he simply went on autopilot, somehow managing to find the way home without crashing the car. Today was no different. 

He could hear the racket before he even stepped through the front door. Ponyboy and Steve were on the floor, a hand of poker set out before them and Soda… Soda?

Soda was home. The same Soda that had come back from Vietnam so different. The same Soda he had fought with and driven out of the house. The same Soda that he had driven to the hospital to identify. The same Soda that was sitting on the couch in front of him, unharmed and not dead in a hospital morgue. 

“...arry?” Ponyboy was looking at him, something like concern written in his eyes. 

“Sodapop?” He asked, completely ignoring Ponyboy for a moment. “Where you been?” 

“Around. Didn’t know if you’d want me back for a while after… that night.” He trailed off, obviously uncomfortable with everyone's eyes on him. 

“You’re always welcome here, no matter what.” Darry said in that no nonsense tone. Darry wiped his hands on his jeans. “You guys start dinner?” He asked, itching to change the subject. 

“I preheated the oven.” 

“Thanks Pone, I’ll finish it.” He felt their eyes on him as he went to the kitchen. Get a grip. He told himself. Of course Soda is fine. He began to slather the thawing chicken in sauce.  He went to get some butter out of the fridge when he nearly ran into Soda. 

“What’s this about?” He asked, running a nervous hand through his hair. 

“What’s what about?” Darry asks, taking some frozen vegetables out of the freezer. 

“You were lookin’ at me like you saw a ghost. That’s gotta be something.” 

“I’m fine, I’m just really glad you’re okay Sodapop.” Soda’s eyebrows scrunch in confusion. 

“Sure, I was only gone a few days. Are you still mad about our fight?” Soda asked.

Darry thought about telling him. He really did. About telling him everything. He thought about telling him that he thought Soda was dead and he was the one to blame. He thought about telling him about the smell and even mom and dad. He thought about yelling his head off that Soda should have called, should have told Darry where he was, that he could have been killed and it would be all Darrys fault. 

After all, Darry hadn’t had anybody to tell for so long.

But he didn’t.

Over the years he had a lot of practice of knowing which things his little brothers needed to know. His little visit to the coroner's office and hospital morgue was not something either of his little brothers needed to know about. 

“No, I’m not mad about that. Not anymore little buddy. Now how about you help me with dinner, huh?” 

“Sure Dar.” Soda says easily, knocking his shoulder against Darrys. “Though we might be having blue chicken.” Darry laughs, thinking about how close he was to thinking Sodapop was dead. How he had felt like this might never happen again. Everything would be fine. Soda was alive and Darry would keep it that way if it killed him. 

[catherinetheprincessofwales]

The Irish Princess and her dynastic marriage to a Norman that helped shape Europe. Aoife, Princess of Leinster -> Catherine, The Princess of Wales. The Princess of Wales is Aoife, Princess of Leinster and Richard de Clare, Earl of Pembroke 26th Great-Granddaughter  via her paternal grandfather’s line.

** Aoife or Eva, Princess of Leinster, played a pivotal role in the history of Ireland and the Norman expansion. She was the daughter of Diarmaid MacMurrough, King of Leinster, who sought the help of the Normans to secure his throne and defeat his enemies. As part of this alliance, Aoife married the Norman leader Richard de Clare, known as ‘Strongbow,’ on 25 August 1170. This marriage marked the arrival of the Normans in Ireland, just 104 years after their conquest of England by William the Conqueror.

Through their daughter, Isabelle de Clare, The 4th Countess of Pembroke, the union of Aoife and Strongbow forged a lineage that would shape the future of European nobility. Isabelle became an ancestor of nearly every reigning monarch across Europe. Within a few generations, her descendants included much of the European aristocracy, including all the Kings of Scotland since Robert the Bruce (1274–1329) and every monarch of England, Great Britain, and the United Kingdom since Henry IV (1367–1413). 

Family Line

Aoife MacMurrough, Princess of Leinster and Richard de Clare, 2nd Earl of Pembroke. Painting of their wedding, depicting the political and cultural consequences. 

Isabelle de Clare 4th Countess of Pembroke m. William Marshall 1st Earl of Pembroke. 

Eve Marshall m William de Briouze, born  Pembroke Castle.

Eve de Briouze m. William de Cauntelo, Coat of Arms

Millicent de Cauntelo m. Eon la Zouche, Coat of Arms

Eva la Zouche m. Maurice de Berkeley, 2nd Lord Berkeley, buried St Mary's Church, Portbury. 

Thomas de Berkeley, 3rd Lord Berkeley m. Catherine Clivedon

Sir John Berkeley m. Elizabeth Betteshorne, burial location.

Eleanor Berkeley m. Sir Richard Poynings, burial tomb.

Eleanor de Poynings m. Henry Percy, 3rd Earl of Northumberland

Lady Margaret Percy m. Sir William Gascoigne 

Anne Gascoigne m. Sir Thomas Fairfax - Gawthorpe Hall, family seat.

William Fairfax m. Anne Baker - Gilling Castle, family seat. 

John Fairfax m. Mary Birch - Master of the Great Hospital at Norwich, Norfolk

Rev. Benjamin Fairfax m. Sarah Galliard - Preacher at Rumburgh, Suffolk.

Benjamin Fairfax m. Bridget Stringer - died in Halesworth, Suffolk.

Sarah Fairfax m. Rev. John Meadows - died in Ousedon, Suffolk.

Philip Meadows m. Margaret Hall

Sarah Meadows m. Dr. David Martineau

Thomas Martineau m. Elizabeth Rankin - buried at Rosary Cemetery, Norwich.

Elizabeth Martineau m. Dr. Thomas Michael Greenhow - died in Newcastle upon Tyne, Northumberland.

Frances Elizabeth Greenhow m. Francis Lupton

Francis Martineau Lupton m. Harriet Davis

Olive Lupton m. Richard Middleton

Peter Middleton m. Valerie Glassborow

Michael Middleton m. Carole Goldsmith 

Catherine Middleton m. Prince William of Wales

*Catherine is also a descendant of Aoife via her mother Caroles maternal line.

[melorasmushrooms]

Saint Jude - patron saint of hope and lost causes. Occasionally confused with Judas Iscariot. Patron saint of hospitals as well, which is why a certain sect of children’s hospital is named for him. Also the patron saint of the Chicago PD??

Saint Lawrence - patron saint of “those who work with open fires” (ex: cooks, bakers, brewers), known for giving to the poor. Martyred for saying that the poor were the church’s treasures (at least the way I read it?) and reportedly said “I’m well done on this side. Turn me over!” In the midst of being martyred.

Saint Francis - patron saint of the animals and the environment. His feast day is also world animal day

I was curious to see if the different saints used as code names by the Santo Patron folks might have any significance and well, I can kind of see it.

Lawrence/Stocks is this Everyman used by an organization, if he dies in the field he dies in the field and someone else will take up that name in his place. It’s very fitting for someone who is out doing dangerous work.

St Jude I think could read a couple of ways. If he’s the one who brings people into the organization, he might be the patron of those who were down on their luck but molded by the organization to be something more. On the other hand, it could be that what they’re doing as an organization is bringing hope to people in lost cause situations.

Unclear on St Francis but I have a feeling it may come up later in the season EDIT: the neurons shook hands. This doesn’t relate to the name specifically but St Francis fell off a train and hasn’t been found - a la Bucky Barnes. He’d 100% been Winter Solider’d and Barsimmeon is running around in his body (see the super soldier Jennifer/Russell encountered)

[karin-gespenst]

what will become of Nonnatus House?

the series finale gave us Sister Hilda and Sister Julienne talking about the order and the future, and pears.

Now with a new young woman joining the order it's interesting to see how she approaches the vowed life and faith, and how her sisters are by her side on this journey.

At some point Call the Midwife as a TV show will end, or change very significantly, and I'd like to know ahead of time when that will happen. How they will complete the many storylines, wrap up the plot and not leave everyone hanging.

From Jennifer Worths books we know a little about the work of the order that was actually "The Community Of St John The Divine"

https://csjdivine.wordpress.com/history/ and how it changed over time. A little research into the actual order working in Poplar shows that the TV Show writers are not the first ones to take liberties whe sharing facts. Jenny did change a number of facts and invented characters, so I have no qualms that the TV show does this as well. The website notes that the work of the Sisters in Poplar ended in 1978, but some of the nuns continued to work in hospitals in other parts of London.

So do we expect to see this development played out in the TV show with our beloved Nonnatuns leaving? Or will they find a way to continue portraying the history of medical work in a different way? Time will tell.

I also took a look at the nuns living and working where I grew up in the 80s and 90s. This is not an in depth analysis or an article claiming a wide knowledge of the subject. It is a little personal story about art mirroring life and how humans everywhere are the same as well as different.

One difference: the nuns I met in my childhood were catholic, a part of the order of Saint Francis of Assisi. Their particular group was founded 1921 to help families at home, including mothers after birth. The need was great and the order grew fast and the first hospital was opened for mothers to give birth in and have a proper rest afterwards. Those nuns were educated at the midwifery school, but not all were midwives or nurses, some had just a few weeks of training in nursing care for mothers and infants. Over the decades the order has welcomed women of a wider variety of occupations, like secretaries for example.

The order is situated in southern Germany and well recognized until today in the towns where their members live and work(ed). There was secular staff as well in their hospitals, for example my mother worked there in the lab for 15 years. From what she tells me the nuns were as welcoming and caring as the Nonnatuns, and I remember that friendly, family-like atmosphere from visiting her at work on occasion as a child. Many of the nuns still recognize her today.

Recently my mom and I visited the mother house together to see the exhibition about 100 years of the order. I wanted to learn more about the history and mom enjoyed the trip down memory lane. Here are a few tidbits :

This photo is from 1969, in that year the Sisters attended just shy of 3000 births.

I learned that the midwife who delivered my kid plays the contrabass. She is a Sister Evangelina type, and now approaching 70. One of the sisters sings in the choir with my mom, they chatted about the new songs they're learning for a bit. We met a few of the nuns who are in the Sister Monica Joan age range, rolling along towards the chapel with their walkers. They loved seeing my mom again and were very sweet. One of the younger ones spotted us and gave us coffee and cake.

There's no maternity ward anymore in the town today. The Sisters stopped working in midwifery around 2008, focusing their work on the other care work they have been doing since the 70s. Caring for the elderly, offering quiet time for people seeking solace, spiritual care for patients in the hospitals, organizing a medical care center including home help, nursing care in the home, a doctor's office and so forth. They founded the first hospice in the region twenty years ago.

knowing all this I believe I have an idea how things went for the order in Poplar. It is entirely possible that the Ctm writers have something similiar in mind. Or not.

see you in a handful of years when we have a spin-off-series, comic books and online multiplayer game!

[divinum-pacis]

March 2025: Vatican City People gather in St Peter’s Square to follow a live broadcast from Rome’s Gemelli hospital, where Pope Francis made his first public appearance since he was admitted to hospital last month with pneumonia Photograph: Gregorio Borgia/AP

[birdofcauthon14]

All That Remains: A Preview

So I'm about to clinically cease to exist, but after being validated in my long-term plot decisions by the finale and also rendered unto a state of permanent hype high by said finale, I furnish unto all of you, fellow Pitt fans, a preview of my upcoming dive into OC cringe fanfic hell: All That Remains.

And by special request: @lavenderdaisychain

Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. November 11, 2025. Day One. 6:45 A.M.

As the closing notes of Moskau by Dschinghis Khan gave way to Waterloo, the first famous song of the band whose music had kept her sane for the better part of her entire life, Ylva Elise Thorn jogged down the three steps of a small concrete staircase and turned onto the next sidewalk on her way to a new beginning.

Pittsburgh, it had to be said, was not - as the saying went - on Ylva's initial bingo card when she had been considering the move. At the time, all she knew was that Boston had ceased being an option and that, because if it, the cabin outside of Nashua also had to go unless she could find something in New Hampshire instead. That had almost become the goal - until the job opening which had brought her here.

A bit of wiggling. A touch of maneuvering. A new cabin, this one across the river from Aliquippa, Pennsylvania. And now…

Newness. The wondrous terror of newness, that eternal fuel for those seeking another chance and that eternal bane of autistic people.

Newness, and Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Hospital. Ylva was given to understand that its emergency department was known as the Pitt to those who worked within its walls. It was part of a strategic collection of things she had been told on her preliminary visit to the hospital on Friday, where the administrator of PTMH - a fussy woman named Gloria, who Ylva suspected of covertly running for political office - had provided her the layout of the hospital, the emergency department, and the staff with whom she would be working.

Broadly, at least. One never knew others until one was amongst them. Ylva knew that of old, from her old life at St. Francis Memorial Hospital and lives even before that, but understanding it had been a more recent endeavor powered by loneliness and the patient determination of the woman who was now her best friend.

Well. That and the efforts of - others.

Some with her.

Some not.

[eri-pl]

I read Book of Lost Tales 3: the Valar & Valinor

First we get more info on more of the Valar.

Varda thought of "light that is white and silver" (as opposed to golden light, I think, which is… Vána's?) and of the stars. Also, Manwë and Varda fly on magical wings, which is lovely.

Long post continued below cut.

We get a description of the layers of the air: dark Vaitya (outer-space-ish???), blue Ilwë, and grey Vilna where the birds can fly.

Also, we get a mention of lesser spirits (smaller even that the Maiar in the silm, because they have a "species" name): the Mánir and the Súruli. Basically, sylphs. I want them in my canon.

But Melko got there first anyway, "having rushed headlong flaming through the stars at the impetuosity of his speed" and there's a powerful impact when he lands. I love the mental image of Melko meteoring down, face-first, flames all around his stupid expression (see: my new year post).

I know it's supposed to be an act of serious evil, but it has the energy of a drunk guy saying "hold my beer" and doing something that will end in a hospital, or at least in the "10 funniest fail videos of the year".

"Manwë beholding this was wroth". Huh. I get that this is a bit of vandalism (especially that Arda is much more finished here than it would be at this stage in the Silm), but. 😐

At least the prose is beautiful.

Aulë and Ulmo join the party, Ulmo brings only Salmar with him. Ulmo is so introverted. I think I'll start HCing Salmar as a water cat. Maine Coon, maybe? And Ulmo was "silent and aloof and haughty even to the Ainur".

Aulë is more sociable, with him is Palúrien (=Yavanna, but 20 times cooler, but Iĺl be calling her "Yavanna" anyway, because this is already one of her names).

I love this. I know it clashes with the later worldbuilding, but i wish there was a way for it not to clash. (I feel like if we prayed enough to St francis, maybe we'd get some ideas how to get it together. seems like something he would like.)

And sprites of trees and woods and all the plants. And those have names! Nermir, and Tavari, and Nandini, and Orossi, and some English names: brownies, pixies, leprawns (leperchauns, I guess). And they are very different thing from the eldar, we are reminded. And they are from before the world and … I don't get the text, but they didn't participate in making it? Or they did? Anyway they find the world funny.

Now we have Ossë (who is not a servant of Ulmo, but more like his rival) and Ónen (later Uinen). Both are much the same as in the Silmarillion. Oh, wait, no. Ossë is a vassal to Ulmo, but out of fear and reverence mostly. I don't think this relationship is very visible later in the text tbh. Ossë keeps being upset at Ulmo and they both just dislike each other a lot.

We meet Tulkas (yay!), and the Fánturi (later Feanturi) whose names at this point are actually Mandos and Lorien. Mandos is the patron of death, more explicitely than in the Silm.

she is fain of gloom and tears.[…] she is Núri who sighs and Héskil who breedeth winter, and all must bow before her as Qualmë-Tári the mistress of death

Aaand we get first of the Valar that are not in the Silm, or are very widely changed. Fui Nienna (I'll be calling her Fui), who is very much unlike Silm!Nienna and is technically not evil (=not allied to Melko), but honestly? She's evil. Oh, and also she's the wife of Mandos, not his sister.

Hmm… Mandos' wife, who sighs and who is the lady of death Makes me think more of the strange connection between Vairë, Miriel Serinde, and Ungoliant (and the Norns!). There is some kind of vague pattern in here.

Also: winter? Here even more than in the Silm, she would be a better match for Melko than for Mandos. Oh, and we still haven't gotten to her most evil part.

Now we get more Valar, and Vána (who along with Fui is one of the more important female Valar, those two are the mistresses of Death and of Life), and Oromë (who is less important and the son of Aule and Yavanna). they have more names than those, but I'll be using the Silm names for those Valar that are similar. Which is: all except Fui.

Aaand Makar and his sister Meásse, who later got kicked out of the canon for excessive violence XD (they are also on the non-Melko side, but this is the only good thing about them). And even here we are told that everything would be better without them "for both were spirits of quarrelsome mood" + they brought a lot of Melko's fans with them. For unclear reasons (probably: lack of thinking).

And the Vala who got removed I don't know why: "Ómar, who is called Amillo, youngest of the great Valar".

The Valar decide to go find Melko and deal with him. Manwë sends Mandos (because he has fear aura) and Tulkas (because he has muscles), the two that Melko fears.

and Tulkas whose heart misliked the crooked guile of Melko gave him a blow with his fist

No, no provocation is mentioned, except the general evilness. And this is, I think, after those two constrained Melko? I don't think Tulkas would beat up a captive, but it does sound like he punched Melko after the situation was clearly won. Rude.

But I love the prose here.

Melko is taken in front of all the other Valar, starts lying his way out as usual, many believe him, Ulmo randomly leaves in the middle of the debate and nopes out to the great ocean. As an introvert, I relate.

We get a random geography interlude (why...), the notable thing is that the outer seas have no tides, and are very cool and thin (I think it means "not dense, airy", not "shallow"?) and only Ulmo's magic fish and his magic car can go there. Yes, we'll be seeing the word "car" a lot in this book.

So, Melko.

However the "let us build a dwelling" sounds somewhat ominous to me, but I'm probably wrong. But they do kinda focus on "Melko is so powerful". But maybe it makes sense here. And "to most Gods it seemed a good counsuel". Huh. Sir, I am getting mixed messages here. Which may be the point?

I learn a new word: "rede". It means… advice or counsuel. So, at the rede of Aule and Yavanna, the Valar do not spread and separate (as Melko suggested) but team up and go live together in Valinor, so that Melko cannot defeat them one by one. Smart.

This post is so long already. I will end here.

Oh, right, I probably forgot to mention: the alternative name for the Valar is Gods with capital G.

Next: Melko helps build the lanterns XD

[venicepearl]

St. Elizabeth of Hungary or The Miracle of the Roses by Gustave Moreau, 1879

Elizabeth of Hungary (7 July 1207 – 17 November 1231), also known as Elisabeth of Thuringia, was a princess of the Kingdom of Hungary and the landgravine of Thuringia.

Elizabeth was married at the age of 14, and widowed at 20. After her husband's death, she regained her dowry, using the money to build a hospital where she herself served the sick. She became a symbol of Christian charity after her death in 1231 at the age of 24 and was canonized on 25 May 1235. She is venerated as a saint by the Catholic Church. She was an early member of the Third Order of St. Francis, and is today honored as its patroness.

[anastpaul]

St Elizabeth of Hungary TOSF (1207-1231) Widow, Princess, Third Order Franciscans, Mother, Apostle of the poor, the sick, the needy.. She was Canonised on 27 May 1235 by Pope Gregory IX at Perugia, Italy. Patronages – hospitals, nurses, bakers, brides, countesses, dying children, exiles, homeless people, lace-makers, widows. all Catholic charities and the Third Order of Saint Francis. About St Elizabeth: https://anastpaul.wordpress.com/2017/11/17/saint-of-the-day-st-elizabeth-of-hungary-1207-1231-t-o-s-f/ Her Feast Day is 19 November – movedto the 17 November in 1969

(via St Pontian, Pope and Martyr, St Elizabeth, Widow and the Saints for 19 November – AnaStpaul)

[girlactionfigure]

 THURSDAY HERO: Rabbi Abraham Joshua Twerski

Rabbi Abraham Joshua Twerski was a Hasidic rabbi and psychiatrist who authored dozens of books, helped tens of thousands recover from addiction, and was a blessing to everyone he met.

Born in Milwaukee in 1930, Rabbi Twerski was the scion of two illustrious Hasidic dynasties: Bobov and Chernobyl. His father Rabbi Jacob Israel Twerski was a Russian immigrant and leading rabbi who was beloved by the Milwaukee Jewish community. Abraham was one of five brothers and the first to be born in America. He was raised in a traditional Orthodox home but attended public school.

After being ordained as a young man, Abraham served as his father’s assistant rabbi, and was in awe of his father’s ability to connect with people and counsel them. He later said, “I didn’t see my life as a performer of rituals, and I felt that if what psychiatry is doing is what my father used to be doing, well, then that’s where I’ll go. So I went to medical school to become a psychiatrist to do what I wanted to do as a rabbi.” He graduated from the medical school of Marquette University  in 1960 and served as clinical director of the psychiatry department at St. Francis Hospital in Pittsburgh for many years.

In 1972, Rabbi Twerski founded Gateway Rehabilitation Center in Pittsburgh, a program so successful that there are now 22 Gateway centers in Pennsylvania and Ohio, serving both Jewish and non-Jewish patients. The current CEO of Gateway, James Troup, said “Dr. Twerski is our founder, inspiration leader and the person we think of every day as we execute our mission and vision.”

His granddaughter Chaya Ruchie Twerski remembered growing up with her beloved zaydie. “My grandfather used to pray on Saturday mornings in Chabad and when we would walk home from synagogue, every single Shabbos was the same thing. Cars would honk, people would roll down their windows and shout, ’Sending our love,’ or ‘Five years clean, Dr. T!’”

At that time it was rare for an Orthodox rabbi to be an expert in secular subjects such as medicine. It was also a common belief in the Jewish community that alcoholism and addiction were gentile problems. Rabbi Twerski challenged both assumptions by becoming a prominent psychiatrist who wrote over 80 books and helped thousands of Jews and non-Jews recover from substance abuse – all while maintaining his identity as a pious and visible Hasidic Jew. He tackled subjects nobody else in the Jewish world was addressing, such as domestic abuse and drug addiction.

Those who knew Rabbi Twerski remembered that his favorite word was “gem” because he believed that every human being is a precious gem. Rabbi Moishe Mayir Vogel, executive director of the Aleph Institute in Pittsburgh, said of his beloved rabbi, “He would never throw anyone away. He would say, ‘We just have to polish them off and wipe away the dust.’”

Rabbi Twerski was the first Jewish leader to embrace the 12-step program created by Alcoholics Anonymous, despite the program’s association with Christian teachings. A renowned expert in spiritual and secular subjects, Rabbi Twerski wrote dozens of best-selling books, all with the same theme – self-esteem. A fan of the Peanuts cartoon, Rabbi Twerski co-wrote two books with Peanuts creator Charles Schultz. Noted psychologist Rabbi Dr. Tzvi Hersh Weinreb said of his mentor, “He was a great believer that there was no contradiction. A person could be a person of great faith and a rigorous scientist.”

In his long life, Rabbi Twerski made use of every moment. Besides treating patients, authoring books, and traveling the world to lecture and advise, Rabbi Twersky founded multiple organizations including Nefesh, an organization for mental health workers, the Kollel Learning Center, and Transitions, for boys from Orthodox homes battling substance addiction. Pittsburgh resident Mike Pasternak, co-founder of Transitions, described Rabbi Twerski as “an amazing person who cared about everyone. Every day I spent with him was an experience seeing someone be the ultimate mensch, caring for everybody.”

Besides his work as psychiatrist and spiritual leader, he was a gifted singer and composer. Rabbi Yisroel Rosenfeld of the Lubavitch Center of Pittsburgh said that Rabbi Twerski “had a beautiful voice and was a great composer of songs… He was an unusual kind of person. A person that was down to earth, but at the same time very spiritual. He had a foot in and was able to reach out and be effective in the entire world.”

Rabbi Twerski died in Israel on January 31, 2021 at age 90 and was survived by his wife Dr. Gail Bessler-Twerski, four children, and many grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and great-great grandchildren. His first wife Golda died in 1995. Rabbi Twerski’s will specified that there should be no eulogies at his funeral, instead mourners should sing a melody he composed for the words of Psalms 28:9, “Deliver and bless Your very own people; tend them and sustain them forever.”

For saving lives and blessing the entire world with his saintly presence, we honor Rabbi Abraham Joshua Twerski as this week’s Thursday Hero. May his memory be a blessing.

[cultivating-wildflowers]

"The leader of the long-running study said that the drugs did not improve mental health in children with gender distress and that the finding might be weaponized by opponents of the care."

And from Wikipedia:

In December 2024, Olson-Kennedy was sued by a 20-year old female detransitioner, alleging she had caused permanent harm by a rushed diagnosis of gender dysphoria "mere minutes" after first seeing the plaintiff at age 12, who went on to receive puberty blockers and a double mastectomy at age 14. The lawsuit also names the St. Francis Hospital in San Francisco and a second doctor as defendants, alleging that the latter had "rubber-stamped" the mastectomy. The same day, a group of Republican senators announced an inquiry into her unpublished NIH study. All senators involved except for one had previously sponsored a ban on youth gender-affirming care.

Worth noting: The leader of this study, Dr. Johanna Olson-Kennedy, is married to a trans-identifying "therapist" who runs a gender clinic.