#Surgical Instruments for professionals

[amaproducts]

The Task Mayo Instrument Table from AMA Products is a versatile and mobile solution for medical professionals. Measuring 60 x 40 cm, this table features a shallow tray, providing ample space for organizing and accessing instruments during procedures. Its sturdy construction and mobility make it ideal for use in various healthcare settings, ensuring efficiency and convenience for practitioners.

[kdlmedtech]

Fistula Needle Guide: How to Choose the Right One

Fistula needles may not be a household name, but they play a crucial role in the lives of many individuals who require regular hemodialysis. These specialized needles are designed specifically for accessing a fistula, a surgically created connection between an artery and a vein, which allows for the removal and return of blood during dialysis treatment. In this blog post, we’ll dive into the importance of choosing the right fistula needle and provide some helpful tips for properly using them.

What is a Fistula Needle? A fistula is a type of vascular access used in hemodialysis, where blood is removed from the body, filtered through a machine, and then returned to the body. The creation of a fistula involves connecting an artery to a vein, usually in the arm, to create a larger, stronger blood vessel that can withstand the repeated puncturing required for dialysis treatments. A fistula needle is a specially designed needle used to access the blood vessel in your arm for dialysis treatment.

Why is Choosing the Right Fistula Needle Important? Choosing the right dialysis fistula needle is crucial for several reasons. First, it ensures the safety and comfort of the patient. Second, it allows for optimal blood flow during dialysis, which is essential for efficient treatment. Finally, using the correct needle can help prevent complications such as infections or clotting, which can be life-threatening for individuals undergoing dialysis.

Factors to Consider When Choosing a Fistula Needle • Gauge Size: Needles come in various gauges. Smaller gauges are generally more comfortable but may not provide the necessary flow rates for dialysis. Common sizes include 15, 16, and 17 gauge. • Needle Length: The length of the needle should be enough to reach the walls of the fistula without being too long, which can cause damage. It’s essential to consult a healthcare professional to determine the appropriate length for each patient. • Bevel Design: The bevel is the slanting edge of the needle. A bevel design that is too sharp can cause damage to the fistula walls, while a bevel that is too dull can result in difficulty in puncturing the skin. The ideal bevel design will vary for each individual depending on the size and condition of their fistula. • Needle Material: Aseptic Fistula needles should be made of high-quality, medical-grade materials to reduce the risk of infection. It’s crucial to choose needles from a reputable av fistula needle manufacturer to ensure safety and durability.

The Different Types of Fistula Needles There are various types of fistula needles available, including straight needles, winged needles, and buttonhole needles. Each has its advantages and disadvantages, and the type chosen will depend on the individual’s fistula and their treatment needs.

Tips for Properly Using a Fistula Needle • Always wash your hands before handling the needle and use proper sterilization techniques to prevent infection. • Make sure the needle is inserted at the correct angle and depth to prevent damage to the fistula. • Use a gentle twisting motion when inserting and removing the needle to minimize pain and discomfort. • Monitor the flow rate and adjust as needed to ensure proper blood flow during treatment. • After each use, discard the needle safely and promptly to reduce the risk of infection.

Conclusion In conclusion, fistula needles are a critical component of dialysis treatment for individuals with a fistula. Choosing the right needle and using it properly can make a significant difference in the safety, comfort, and efficacy of dialysis treatment. Consult with a healthcare professional to determine the best type and size of fistula needle for your specific needs. Remember to follow proper sterilization and handling techniques to ensure the best outcomes.

Source : Fistula Needle Guide: How to Choose the Right One

[anthonyhoffmansworld]

Top Medical Equipment Supplier Worldwide

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[won4kiss]

𖠵 . ׅ ࣪ ⌇𝐼𝑇’𝑆 𝐴 𝐷𝐴𝑇𝐸 !

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 𝑆urgeon rival! 𝓁ee 𝒽eeseung x 𝑓! reader 𝒢enre. angst 𝓢ynopsis. in which your rival takes an argument too far ! 𝑤𝑐 𐙚ㅤㅤ 1402 ⸝⸝ not proof read argument surgery mentioned cursing kissing ୭ৎ — 𝓁ibrar𝓎 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖

PLEASE LIKE & REBLOG ! ໒꒰ྀི ≧ ᗜ ≦ ꒱ྀིა

THE STERILE SCENT OF THE ANTISEPTIC FILLED THE AIR AS YOU SCRUBBED IN FOR ANOTHER GRUELING AND TIRESOME SURGERY.

as a cardiothoracic surgeon at one of the top hospitals in the country, you were used to the high-pressure environment.

however, one thing you could never get used to was working alongside lee heeseung.

heeseung, with his sharp intellect and even sharper tongue, and his annoyingly angelic face— contrasting to his devilish personality was your professional rival.

as much as you hated to admit— he was as brilliant as he was infuriating, and every time your paths crossed, sparks flew—mostly in the form of heated arguments.

today was no different. you glanced at heeseung through the glass of the scrub room, noticing the way his jaw tightened as he prepared for the surgery. — more under cut !

he caught your eye and held your gaze for a moment longer than necessary with a small grin before it faded into a cocky smirk looking away, a silent challenge lingering in the air.

as you walked into the room, you felt yourself immediately grow agitated already at heeseung’s words.

“are you sure you should be near this patient, it would be a shame to put him at risk because of some dumbass with no surgical skills whatsoever..” he finished as the nurses around you sighed at the bickering to come.

“come on lee, you’re annoying everyone in the damn room. shut your pretty mouth and put those hands to use.”

“oh i know how to put these hands to use alright—“

“oh my fucking god, lee heeseun—“

before you could rebuttal, the nurse interrupted.

“um— the patient is under now.. could you do your job and talk about ‘putting those hands to use’ later?”

you winced at how informally you were talking in front of the nurses— lee heeseung sure does bring out the worst in you, alright.

“right… I’m sorry everyone!”

as the surgery began, you fell into the familiar rhythm, focusing on the delicate sutures and balance required to save a life.

the patient, a middle-aged man with severe coronary artery disease, was in an extreme critical condition.

every move had to be precise, every decision planned and flawless.

despite the tension between you and heeseung, both you and heeseung were professionals, completely focused on the task at hand.

the surgery proceeded smoothly until a complication arose—an unexpected tear in the arterial wall.

"we need to act fast," you said, your voice steady despite the panic and urgency.

"i know," heeseung replied tensely. "suction, now!"

you worked in quiet, the room silent except for the beeping of monitors and the soft clink of instruments.

finally, after what felt like an eternity, the crisis was under control, and the patient's condition stabilized.

as you stepped back, heeseung's eyes met yours again.

"good work," he said, but there was no warmth in his tone, only a grudging edge.

he was usually in a positive mood after a surgery had finished, but today something different— cold, almost angry sparked in his bambi eyes, leaving you in a sour mood.

the surgery had taken its toll, and you were completely exhausted.

you headed to the break room, hoping for even a small moment of peace with your growing headache, but heeseung followed you.

you could feel his eyes boring into your back as you poured yourself a cup of coffee.

"do you ever think before you act?" he snapped, breaking the silence.

you turned to face him, frowning at his accusatory tone.

"what are you on about now, lee?"

"if you hadn't hesitated, maybe we wouldn't have had that complication," he said, his words like a slap to the face.

you felt your blood boil. "are you seriously blaming me for that? we both know it was an unpredictable complication."

heeseung's eyes flashed with anger. "maybe if you paid more attention to the patient's history, you would have anticipated it."

“are you kidding me, heeseung? please, i can’t do this today—“

unfortunately, heeseung failed to notice the trembling in your voice and continued the growing argument.

“you can’t do this today? be so serious y/n, that man almost died today— you almost killed that man!”

the argument escalated quickly, voices rising as accusations flew back and forth.

finally, heeseung said something that cut deeper than any scalpel.

"maybe if you were more competent, our patient wouldn't have been at such risk of death because of you and you only!."

the room fell silent. his words hung in the air, heavy and unforgivable.

you felt your throat tighten, tears threatening to spill. without another word, you turned and walked out, leaving heeseung standing there, a look of shock and regret on his face.

days passed, and you avoided heeseung like the plague.

you switched shifts, took your breaks at odd times, and even walked the long way around the hospital to avoid running into him.

you knew it was petty— but you couldn't help it.

his words had hurt more than you wanted to admit.

heeseung, for his part, seemed increasingly frustrated. you could see him out of the corner of your eye, his gaze following you whenever you were in the same room.

he tried to approach you several times, but you always found a way to slip away before he could say anything.

your colleagues noticed the growing tension and ultimately decided on avoiding the two of you in the same room altogether.

it wasn't until you found yourself alone in the on-call room that heeseung had finally managed to corner you.

you were resting on the stiff bunk bed, trying to catch a few minutes of sleep when the door swung open.

to your surprise— heeseung stood in the doorway, his expression a mix of determination and desperation.

“oh, you’ve got to be kidding me—“

"we need to talk, y/n.." he said, closing the door behind him.

you sat up, crossing your arms defensively.

"there's nothing to talk about."

"yes, there is," he insisted, stepping closer.

"look— i didn't mean what i said the other day. i was angry and tired, and i took it out on you. it wasn't fair, and i'm sorry."

you looked away, the hurt still fresh. "you can't just say something like that and expect everything to be okay."

heeseung sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"i know. and i don't expect you to forgive me right away. but it hurts when you ignore me. we work together, and i... i can't stand the thought of you hating me."

you felt a pang of sympathy despite yourself.

"heeseung, it's not that easy. you really hurt me this time."

"i know," he said softly.

"and i'd do anything to make it right. even if it means losing all my dignity saying this."

you couldn't help it—a small giggle escaped your lips.

the idea of the usually stoic heeseung talking about losing his dignity was too much.

heeseung's eyes lit up at the sound, and a soft smile spread across his face.

"there it is," he said gently.

"that's the smile i've missed."

you shook your head, still smiling.

"you're impossible, lee heeseung."

heeseung took a step closer, his expression earnest.

"i mean it. i'm really sorry. can we.. start over?"

you hesitated for a moment, then nodded.

"okay lee. but you owe me."

heeseung grinned. "anything you want. just name it."

"how about a date?" you suggested, your eyes widened, surprising yourself with your boldness.

heeseung's eyes widened in surprise, then softened. "a date? i'd like that."

he reached out, his hand brushing against yours. the touch was warm, comforting.

slowly, he leaned in, his lips nearly touching yours as he looked into your eyes with a gentleness.

“can i…”

“get on with it already, heeseung—“

suddenly his lips crashed against yours, meeting yours in a soft, delicate kiss.

it was gentle, feeling all the unspoken words and feelings from all these years of working together, bickering and the childish arguments.

when you finally pulled away, heeseung was smiling.

"so, about that date... when are you free?"

you giggled, the tension between you finally broken.

"how about tonight after our shift ends?"

"it's a date," he said, his eyes sparkling with genuine happiness and adoration.

as you left the on-call room together, you couldn't help but feel that maybe, just maybe, things would be different from now on.

© won4kiss 2024

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[oneshotnewbie]

Hey, could you do an Amelia Shepherd x fem!reader where they are in the OR and one of the interns is just starring at Amelia the whole time and reader gets mad (reader is the head of cardiothoracic surgery and she and Amelia have been together for a long time now)

Authors note: I promised you, so here is a new story from me. I hope you like it & I'll try to post and write a little more from now on. I promise ♥

ᕚ---ᕘ

The fluorescent lights of the operating room cast harsh shadows on the concentrated faces of the medical team gathered around the operating table. The atmosphere was tense, the silence broken only by the quiet hum of medical equipment. Dr. Amelia Shepherd stood at the head of the table, her gaze focused on the tiny area of the brain she was trying to operate on with extreme precision. Next to her stood you, the head of cardiothoracic surgery, whose hands calmly and confidently guided the instruments to stabilize the patient's heart.

It was a highly complex operation in which every movement had to be precise to the millimeter in order to preserve the patient's life. The surgical light shone into the interior of the open chest, and despite the bright light and busy, intense activity of the situation, you noticed something unusual out of the corner of your eye.

One of the interns, a young doctor in training, who was attending the procedure didn't seem to have his attention focused on the operation, but instead stared steadily at Amelia. His looks weren't one of admiration for her surgical skills, but of something else - something you couldn't approve of.

A feeling of anger and annoyance rose within you as you noticed the inappropriate attention from him. Why couldn't he concentrate on his work and why did he have to stare at your partner like she was the only thing that mattered?

You felt your heart rate increase and you forced yourself to stay calm so as not to jeopardize the operation. But the sight of the intern looking at Amelia with obvious interest gnawed at her. Was it jealousy you felt? Or just annoyed at the lack of professionalism?

Determined to clarify the situation, you abruptly turned to the intern, your expression serious and stern. "Hey, eyes on the operation!" you snapped, your voice sharp and unmistakable. "Dr. Kwan, this is not an act, this is a vital operation. If you are unable to concentrate, please leave this operating room!"

The intern jumped as if snapped out of a daydream and quickly looked down, his cheeks reddening with embarrassment. "I'm sorry, Dr. l/n. I'll concentrate on the operation immediately," he murmured before hastily shifting his gaze from the neurosurgeon and focusing back on his tasks.

You took a deep breath, your anger slowly fading as you saw the intern focusing back on his work. But the feeling of unrest remained. As you continued to run the operation, you felt a pang of worry in your heart. Was there more to your emotional outburst - an unpleasant hint of jealousy that you couldn't ignore? Was your relationship really as strong as it seemed, or would the shadows of insecurity and jealousy tear you apart before you even had a chance to grow closer?

The situation in the operating room became increasingly complicated when Dr. Kwan continued to stare at Amelia with inappropriate looks minutes later instead of concentrating on his work. Despite your previous admonition, the young doctor seemed unable to take his eyes off the brunette, and this distraction was beginning to negatively impact the quality of the operation.

Suddenly, in the middle of an intense moment, the monitors around you started beeping wildly and a critical condition jeopardized the entire course of the operation when the intern made a mistake. The patient's vital signs spiraled out of control when an important instrument slipped from his hand, further aggravating the patient's already weakened condition.

"Damn, we're losing him! Y/n, talk to me, what happened?" Amelia shouted, desperately trying to control her position on the brain. The brunette felt the pressure in your body rising as the entire team around you reacted frantically, feeding you everything you needed to avert the impending loss of the patient. "Pericardium was injured. I'm trying to repair it."

You didn't have time to talk. You reacted quickly and precisely, your hands working to the rhythm of a well-oiled mechanism as any professional duty outweighed any personal sentiments. But despite your quick efforts, the patient's condition didn't seem to be improving. Time seemed to stand still as you found yourself in a desperate fight to save the life of the person lying on the operating table in front of you.

Minutes passed, but for you and Amelia it felt like an eternity. The exertion and stress began to take its toll, but you continued to fight, every move crucial before another unexpected complication arose, making the situation even more desperate. An artery that was directly underneath where the instrument slipped began to bleed uncontrollably, and the blood streamed into the surgical area, dangerously close to the patient's heart.

"Damned!" you scolded, pushing the intern, who was still standing at your side in shock, out of the way to give you more space. "Y/n, you can do it. Keep a calm head, you know how it works. You're the best in your field." Your partner spoke calmly and you took a deep breath before sharpening your focus, her voice and words always keeping you at bay.

You worked feverishly to control the bleeding while the neurosurgeon tried to continue the brain procedure. Time seemed to continue to stretch and distort, each second becoming an eternity as you were caught in a desperate dance between life and death.

Despite all the odds, you didn't give up. You continued to fight, your hands melding together in a choreographed dance of survival. And amidst the chaos and hustle and bustle, you finally managed to stop the bleeding and save the patient from imminent death.

But the anger towards the intern was bubbling inside you. When the immediate danger had passed and you could turn your attention back to the root cause of the operation, you turned your burning anger on the young doctor.

"What the hell are you thinking, acting like a schoolboy in love while we're here fighting for someone's life?" you shouted at Dr. Kwan, your voice filled with a mixture of anger and disappointment. "You have a responsibility to this patient and the entire medical team, and your unprofessional attitude of pandering on my wife not only endangered his life, but also the career of everyone in this room!"

The young doctor lowered his eyes in shame, his cheeks once again coloring with shame. "I'm sorry, Dr. l/n. I was careless and it won't happen again." he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Damn right it won't. For the time being, you won't be able to see the inside of an operating room anymore." You spoke, taking a deep breath, your anger slowly giving way to exhaustion as you felt the tension inside you slowly release. You turned back to the patient, your mind focused on the final task in front of you as you ordered the intern to leave the room.

In the hours that followed, Amelia and you worked tirelessly to continue to keep the patient stable and ensure he would survive the surgery. And as the first signs of success appeared and the monitors flashed gently in confirmation, you felt a moment of gratitude.

But amidst the triumph of saving someone's life also lay an uncomfortable realization - that the lines between professional duty and personal emotions could sometimes become blurred, and that life's challenges exist not only in the operating room but also in the relationships between people.

[sadseungmin]

ahh it’s nice to find a skz writer who is into darker content and dead dove. those kind of fics are the ones i enjoy most. could you maybe do something with minho and darker role play? any type of play you want!

♡ dark sexual roleplay with psychotic lee minho ♡

psychotic lee minho x reader | gender neutral | dead dove | nsfw (MDNI)

p.s. i hope this is to your liking, anon! if you're not too shy, tell me in my dms, ok?

『 ↳♡･ﾟ psychotic!minho likes...doctor & patient roleplay ೃ⁀➷

Minho would turn his bedroom into a makeshift medical room, complete with an examination table, surgical tools, and various medical supplies. The cold, clinical atmosphere would be designed to unnerve you, to make you feel vulnerable and exposed.

You will be naked, lying on the examination table, which is really just his king-sized bed covered with freshly laundered white sheets. Minho, dressed in a lab coat, would play the role of the doctor with unsettling enthusiasm.

"There's no need to be scared, kitten. You're my favorite patient, after all. I just need to conduct some...special examinations."

Minho's touch will be clinical and intimate, his hands tracing over your body slowly with practiced precision. He will explain each step of the examination in a detached, professional tone, but the dark intensity in his eyes will be easily noticed by you.

His hands slowly slip between your thighs, hooded eyes locked with yours...

"Be a good kitten and open your legs wide for me. Hook your arms under your knees and pull your legs as far back as possible. I need to do a thorough physical check."

The idea of medical control is exciting to him. He will use various medical instruments to heighten your anxiety, the cold metal against your bare skin sending shivers down your spine. Minho's favorite instrument to use is the speculum.

He takes the bivalve and slowly drags the cold instrument down your inner thighs.

"Do you know what this is for, dumb kitty? This is to measure how wide that pretty hole of yours can stretch. I wonder how far I can stretch it before it starts to tear and bleed?"

He will test your reactions, his touch alternating between gentle and invasive. His questions will be probing, his tone demanding honesty.

He inserts the very tip of the instrument into your entrance and watches in fascination as your hole uselessly clenches around it.

"How many fingers do you use to fuck yourself open when I'm not around, hm? You're too much of a whore to use just two. Do you use three? Or, maybe you use four? There's no need to lie to me, kitten. Patient-doctor confidentiality, remember? Besides..."

Minho slowly pushes the cold instrument further into you, and you whimper as the cool metal burrows deeper into your sensitive walls. You will want to close your thighs, but you know better than to disobey.

"I'm going to find out the truth regardless. I'm a doctor; it's my job to know everything about my favorite patient."

Psychological domination appeals to his psychotic side. Throughout the examination, Minho will assert his dominance, reminding you of your helplessness.

He begins to slowly open your entrance with the instrument, and watches intently as the cold metal pushes your walls farther and father apart. The feeling is unfamiliar; it burns but it accompanies the heat building in your lower abdomen. You whimper pathetically as you are stretched wider and wider, to the point where a part of you fears you might actually tear. There are hot tears beading in the corner of your eyes, and you're trembling and breathing erratically, yet your legs stay wide open for doctor Minho.

"I don't care if it hurts. You need this, kitty. You trust me, right? I'm only doing this for your own good."

The mixture of care and control in his voice will be disorienting, leaving you unsure of his true intentions.

Minho pulls the instrument out of you carefully, leaving you gaping; it's humiliating and the look in his eyes is unsettling. Minho leans forward, and spits. You watch as a big glob of saliva pushes through his pursed lips and falls directly into your open hole. The heat of the liquid coats your walls as it slowly slips deeper into you. You release something between a strangled gasp and a moan, toes curling as any sense of shame dissolves into pure arousal.

Minho reaches into the pocket of his lap coat, pulling out a blue pair of latex gloves. He pulls them on, looking at you with a darkened stare, tone still detached and professional.

"I know you're already fucked out from having your walls opened, but this is far from over. With a hole that wide, further examination is necessary. The next step is double fisting. Are you ready, kitten?"

[baki-tiene-un-simp]

Characters Hanayama, Yujiro (medically? He can see people's health), Baki + maybe Kureha? Hedkanon on how the reader was fine at first, but then their stomach got sick and they didn't know from what. The guys take them to Kurekha for a checkup, who was more or less free and they find out that the doctors left one of the medical instruments in the reader after the last surgery (Yujiro examines them with his eyesight, he's probably surprised? He takes the reader to Kureha).

Situation: Your S/O suffers complications after surgery / Su S/O sufre complicaciones tras una cirugía.

Characters: Baki Hanma, Kaoru Hanayama, Kureha Shinogi and Yujiro Hanma.

Baki Hanma.

He's in anguish when you start to slow down, I swear you look paler with each passing day, is it really just a tummy ache?

He can't stay calm despite your insistence that he pay you no attention, you can't even stand up on your own without doubling over in pain.

He drags you to the hospital, he had been so stubborn not to be treated in the past, but now it's different. Now it is Baki who is in the opposite place, now he is the one who suffers seeing his partner suffer, he must do something.

Kureha is quick to help them and asks for an abdominal X-ray to see what the problem is, Baki is nervous, why can't he come with you and why does he have to stay in the waiting room?

Baki is so alarmed when Kureha says that you have a surgical instrument lodged in your abdomen, apparently it's a blunt object, but being in a complex place it can't stay there any longer.

The Hanma clenches his fists when you remember even while doped on strong painkillers, mention that your doctors performed surgery on you by accident, something about your instructions getting mixed up with another patient who needed a gallbladder removal.

Baki is anxious after you enter the operating room, he is starting to get delirious, his brain has absurd thoughts that are supported by worry.

He can only breathe easy when you get out of danger, he wants to hold you close, but he holds on to let you heal properly. He is holding your hand and won't let go.

Kaoru Hanayama.

Perhaps the second fastest acting, as soon as you start having pain is when Hanayama rushes you to the hospital.

His men patrolling the entire corridor where you are taking a consultation to avoid any inconvenience, you explain to Kureha that you have had persistent pain in your lower abdomen that is increasing every day.

Since you admit that the pain is still tolerable, Kureha will simply check on you. He palpates the area, but superficially he can't say anything out of place. He indicates an X-ray to clear up doubts.

He speaks with concern when the results come back and questions if you've had any previous surgery. You say yes, it was a minor surgery that was done very quickly, in the words of your regular doctor.

Kureha explains that your doctors left a surgical tool inside your abdomen when they closed after the operation was finished and that was what was causing the pain. Before you or Kaoru can react, he reassures them, he says how it can be fixed and that it's an advantage that you came to get help as quickly as possible.

Kaoru wants the procedure done as soon as possible, he will pay whatever it takes, he might even refuse you to try to use your health insurance; he doesn't mind paying any amount of money as long as you're okay.

Your doctors will be visited by Kaoru's men, I just want to add.

Almost like Kaoru is waiting right by the door of the operating room, he wants to see you as soon as the surgery is over, he wants to make sure you're okay and out of danger.

Kureha Shinogi.

He is talking about the deterioration of the professionalism of doctors, how little interest must you have in your work and in your patient for things like that to happen? It's just ridiculous, are medical schools giving away degrees? I could be in a bad mood all day because of it.

He's complaining loudly, but he's seriously worried. He is just looking for a viable way out, but intrusive thoughts and negative scenarios assail him.

Is it really safe to open a wound that hasn't healed yet? What if it gets infected when they remove the stitches from the previous operation? It would be troublesome, but leaving the instrument there is more troublesome.

He is only hot-headed, but returns to his rational self after calming down. You'll be fine, you're in his hands and he wouldn't let anything bad happen.

The grudge he feels for his colleague, who performed the surgery on you, doesn't go away as quickly as one would hope. Kureha is professional, very professional, but he won't forget this.

He wants to be the one to handle the extraction, he just wants to make sure it's okay, and besides, he needs to get rid of that nagging little voice that tells him that others won't be able to deal with this like he can. It may seem like it's his pride talking about him, but no, it's anxiety.

He does not back down despite the refusals, and since he is the splendid doctor Kureha Shinogi, there is no other way than to allow him to assist during the operation. It's not what he wants, but he reluctantly agrees, at least he'll be around in case something happens.

In the end everything worked out, you're fine, he's fine and that little voice is gone.

Yujiro Hanma.

He may notice how lethargic you have become, slower, and more sensitive to pain in your lower belly. He doesn't mention it because he always complains to you about how "insensitive" it becomes when he tells you that you are weak for not taking pain.

Honestly, he is annoyed that a simple pain can take away your strength and mobility, he believes that you make a fuss over nothing.

He can see that something is wrong, a jagged anomaly that's in the wrong place, something that simply shouldn't be there. But he's an idiot and he's convinced that you're just a crybaby.

He complains all the way about how wasteful it is to go to the doctor, yet he is the one who is dragging you to the hospital to be treated.

"It's either this or lock you out of the house so I don't have to listen to you complain," he shrugs and replies with a frown.

He is capable of throwing you on top of the first stretcher he sees when entering the hospital, walk a few steps behind him to avoid this, he is a man of his word.

He'll probably disappear for as long as you're in the OR, though the doctors insist they felt like they were being watched all the time, like someone was pointing at their foreheads to pull the trigger at the slightest mistake.

He picks you up from the hospital, he hopes you get well soon, not good wishes.

Versión en español.

Baki Hanma.

Está angustiado cuando empiezas a ser más lento, juraría que te ves más pálido con cada día que pasa, ¿realmente es solo un dolor de vientre?

No puede estar tranquilo a pesar de tus insistencias de que no te preste atención, ni siquiera puedes pararte por tú cuenta sin doblarte sobre ti mismo a causa del dolor.

Te arrastra al hospital, él había sido tan obstinado a no ser tratado en el pasado, pero ahora es diferente. Ahora es Baki quien está en el lugar contrario, ahora es él quien sufre al ver a su pareja sufrir, debe hacer algo.

Kureha es rápido en ayudarles y pide que te hagan una radiografía abdominal para ver cuál es el problema, Baki está nervioso, ¿por qué no puede acompañarte y por qué debe quedarse en la sala de espera?

Baki se alarma tanto cuando Kureha dice que tienes un instrumento quirúrgico alojado en el abdomen, al parecer es un objeto sin filo, pero al encontrarse en un lugar complejo no puede quedarse allí por más tiempo.

El Hanma aprieta los puños cuando haces memoria aun al estar dopado por fuertes calmantes, mencionas que tus médicos te hicieron una cirugía por accidente, algo sobre que tus indicaciones se mezclaron con el de otro paciente que necesitaba una extracción de vesícula biliar.

Baki está ansioso después de que entras al quirófano, está empezando a delirar, su cerebro tiene pensamientos absurdos que son apoyados por la preocupación.

Solo puede respirar tranquilo cuando sales de peligro, quiere sostenerte cerca, pero se aguanta para dejar que te recuperes debidamente. Está sosteniendo tu mano y no la soltará.

Kaoru Hanayama.

Quizá el segundo que actúa más rápido, tan pronto como empiezas a tener dolor es cuando Hanayama se apresura a llevarte al hospital.

Sus hombres patrullando todo el pasillo en donde estás tomando consulta para evitar cualquier inconveniente, le explicas a Kureha que has tenido un insistente dolor en el abdomen bajo que cada día va en aumento.

Como admites que el dolor todavía es tolerable, Kureha simplemente te revisara. Él palpa el área, pero superficialmente no puede notar nada fuera de lugar. Indica una radiografía para salir de dudas.

Habla con preocupación cuando los resultados llegan y cuestiona si has tenido alguna cirugía previa. Dices que sí, era una cirugía menor que se realizó muy rápido, en palabras de tu doctor habitual.

Kureha explica que tus doctores dejaron una herramienta quirúrgica dentro de tu abdomen cuando cerraron tras finalizar la operación y eso era lo que te generaba el dolor. Antes de que Kaoru o tú puedan reaccionar, los tranquiliza, dice como puede solucionarse y que es una ventaja que hayan venido a buscar ayuda lo más rápido posible.

Kaoru quiere que el procedimiento se lleve a cabo lo antes posible, pagara lo que sea necesario, podría rechazar incluso que trates de usar tu seguro médico; no le importa pagar cualquier suma de dinero con tal de que estés bien.

Tus doctores recibirán la visita de los hombres de Kaoru, solo quiero agregar.

Casi que Kaoru espera justo junto a la puerta del quirófano, quiere verte tan pronto como la cirugía termine, quiere asegurarse de que estés bien y fuera de peligro.

Kureha Shinogi.

Está hablando sobre el deterioro del profesionalismo de los doctores, ¿Qué tan poco interés debes tener en tu trabajo y en tu paciente como para que cosas así sucedan? Simplemente es ridículo, ¿acaso las escuelas de medicina están regalando los títulos? Podría estar de mal humor durante todo el día por ello.

Se está quejando en voz alta, pero está seriamente preocupado. Solo está buscando una salida viable, pero los pensamientos intrusivos y escenarios negativos lo asaltan.

¿Es realmente seguro abrir una herida que todavía no sana? ¿Qué tal si se infecta cuando quiten los puntos de la operación anterior? Sería problemático, pero dejar el instrumento allí lo es más.

Solo tiene la cabeza caliente, pero vuelve a su racional yo después de calmarse. Estarás bien, estas en sus manos y él no dejaría que nada malo sucediera.

El rencor que siente por su colega, quien te realizo la cirugía, no desaparece tan rápido como cualquiera esperaría. Kureha es profesional, muy profesional, pero esto no lo piensa olvidar.

Quiere ser quien se ocupe de la extracción, solo quiere cerciorarse de que esté bien y, además, necesita deshacerse de esa insistente vocecita que le dice que los demás no podrán lidiar con esto como él. Puede parecer que es su orgullo hablando, pero no, es la ansiedad.

No retrocede a pesar de las negativas, y como es el espléndido doctor Kureha Shinogi, no hay de otro que permitirle asistir durante la operación. No es lo que él quiere, pero acepta a regañadientes, al menos estará cerca por si algo pasa

Al final todo salió bien, estás bien, él está bien y esa vocecita se fue.

Yujiro Hanma.

Él puede notar lo aletargado que te has vuelto, más lento y más sensible ante el dolor que experimentas en tu vientre bajo. No lo menciona porque siempre te queja de lo "insensible" que llega a ser cuando te dice que eres débil al no aguantar el dolor.

Sinceramente, le molesta que un simple dolor pueda quitarte la fuerza y la movilidad, cree que haces un escándalo por nada.

Él puede ver que algo va mal, una anomalía irregular que está en un lugar incorrecto, algo que no debería estar allí simplemente. Pero es un idiota y está convencido que solo eres un bebé llorón.

Se queja todo el camino sobre como es un desperdicio ir al doctor, sin embargo, es él quien te está arrastrando al hospital para que seas tratado.

"Es esto o dejarte fuera de casa para no tener que escucharte mientras te quejas" levanta los hombros y responde con el ceño fruncido.

Es capaz de lanzarte encima de la primera camilla que vea al entrar al hospital, camina unos pocos pasos por detrás de él para evitar esto, es un hombre de palabra.

Probablemente desaparezca durante todo el tiempo que estés en el quirófano, aunque los doctores insiste en que sentía que eran observados todo el tiempo, como si alguien estuviera apuntando a sus frentes para jalar el gatillo ante el más mínimo error.

Te recoge del hospital, espera que te recuperes pronto, no son buenos deseos.

[toyybox]

Spiderwebs #40: Parasite

Masterlist

content: lab whump, organs, starvation

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

However disastrous his attempt to leave may have been, it didn’t change a lot between them. Heather was upstairs all the time, so he was left to his own devices. They eventually returned to a sort of peace.

That morning, Jackie was curled up on the sofa, reading and gazing out the window at regular intervals. He had not spoken to Heather for about a week now, so he was startled when she burst into the living room.

She seemed to be preoccupied, with her hair in a rough ponytail, her white lab coat somewhat disheveled, absent-mindedly holding a pen in one hand. “Jackie, I’ve figured it out.”

He relaxed a bit, once he realized she just wanted to talk. “Yeah?”

“Yes, I’ve got it.” She hovered by the doorway, leaning one hand against the frame and clicking the pen with the other. “I think it’s a type of chemosynthesis. Wait, I’m sorry, I’m rushing—“ She held up a hand to pause him. “There’s parasites—actually, they’re probably symbiotes, but that’s not relevant. Microscopic ones. Inside you.”

“There is?” He frowned. “Can we get them out?”

“No, Jackie, you don’t understand. I’ve figured out why you’re immortal. The—the organism, it’s adapted for a specific purpose, and—“ She made a few grand gestures, trying to explain whatever abstract concept this was. “It’s… stem cells, you know?”

He did not, in fact, know. He shook his head. 

“It’s—never mind, I’ll explain it later.” She ran a hand over her hair, which only messed it up further. “I need you to come upstairs with me. To the laboratory.”

“You have a laboratory?”

“Yes, it’s upstairs.” She was already turning heel and making her way out. “Hurry up, this is absolutely crucial for my studies.”

“Okay, okay, give me a moment.” He set the book down and hurried after her, since she’d already reached the hallway by that point. He did wonder what she was doing up there. It must have been important, considering how impatient she was acting.

He followed her up the stairs. The second floor was similar to the first, with a hallway leading to three different doors, plus a hatch in the roof above a folded ladder. He had only been here once, and he was blindfolded then. Heather stepped into the farthest door.

Jackie had been expecting something more theatrical, neon acids and smoke wisps and heavy-duty machinery, but it was a clinical place. Mostly clean slates of white, flat tables and counters. Very sanitized. She kept it tidy. It smelled overwhelmingly of chemicals, the same chemicals she cleaned her surgical tools with, which he recognized instantly. There were a few microscopes and sets of glassware, and other instruments he couldn’t name or recognize. Behind another door was a smaller area, what might have once been a walk-in closet or perfume room. There stood a deep freezer, buzzing and humming in the background, and shelves of storage, even more tools and containers all neatly lined up.

“Nice place,” he told her.

“Thank you.” She turned to him, holding a scalpel. “Don’t worry, I just need your skin.”

Ah. His… skin. “All of it?”

She shook her head with a slight, amused smile, before returning to neutral professionality. “A very small amount. I’m studying your cells, you see. I wanted a fresh sample.”

He did not trust her around scalpels, but it was better to just get it over with. He held his arm out. “Go ahead.”

She nodded once, then slid the blade across the side of his arm, where the skin wasn’t so close to the bone. It was a quick and precise motion, like ripping a sticker off. He winced and bit back a hiss of pain. She then placed the cut of skin onto a small, transparent plastic rectangle. It must have been satisfactory, because she nodded in its direction and set it down on a table.

Jackie watched blood well up in the wound, shallow though it was. Heather reached over and pressed a cotton band-aid over it.

“Thanks.” He lowered his arm. “Was that all you needed me for?”

“Yes, but you’re welcome to stay, if you’d like.” She moved a few things around, set a few things up—he wasn’t sure what exactly she was doing, as she had her back turned to him. “As long as you’re quiet. I prefer working in silence.”

He entertained her offer for a few minutes but quickly grew bored. Whatever she was working on, he didn’t understand any of it. He didn’t even know where he would start asking questions—maybe why do I have a parasite in me, for starters. But he was sure that she would explain it all in good time, once she finished her examinations. 

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Then they were back to their normal routine, back to the experiments, though Jackie thought these ones were much more pleasant than the drugs and the cassette tapes. They mostly did not involve him. He spent his days like that, reading or lounging by the window, sleeping on the couch or in the basement, killing time. He was allowed to wander around and do as he pleased, though he did visit Heather from time to time.

The organism, as it turned out, was what allowed him to heal so quickly. It had something to do with stem cells, although she couldn’t give him a straight answer. The important discovery, so she said, was that the organism could only exist inside his body. There was some special thing in his tissues that it needed to live. That was why it was keeping him alive. But she couldn't say what that special thing was, not for certain. Not yet, anyway.

“I don’t think you’ll age,” she told him once.

“Really? At all?”

She gave a noncommittal shrug. “I suppose you might age until thirty or thirty-five, but you won’t grow old. Aging is a form of tissue decay. If your cells can regenerate, they should be able to repair that damage. But I guess I wouldn’t know. We’ll see.”

Alive, even when it was inconvenient for him. Parasite was the right word. It was not symbiosis. 

“That’s cool,” he said.

“Yes, it’s all very fascinating.” She continued musing over a few microscope slides.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

She explained how the organism’s eggs hatched within seconds, the way it could multiply like a hutch of rabbits given a few minutes. The mature specimens could be killed with prolonged pressure or radiation, but the eggs were much more difficult to get rid of. Unless they left his body, at which point they would promptly die. She explained the marvelous regeneration of his stem cells, their undifferentiated, pluripotent, embryonic nature. She spoke of how it was nearly impossible to separate them from his tissues to prevent healing, how a lone cell could divide itself until they repopulated. He was even present for a few of her more exciting experiments.

“Wait behind me,” she said.

She had allowed him to follow her outside, where she had set up a Roman candle. She lit the base of a punk-stick with a lighter then tipped it forwards.

The Roman candle smoldered for a few seconds. She stepped back at a safe distance, meanwhile, putting her arm against his chest so he would do the same.

The explosive set off, amid a patch of ground cleared from snow. His heart—removed from his body, of course, and placed beside the explosive—was decimated to a few chunks of char. Bright sparks popped in the sky above them. And then, slowly but surely, the marred lump reformed, cracking and blooming into another heart. The flesh was rather discolored and misshapen. It wasn’t a pretty thing, but it was there.

“It would heal better in your body,” she explained. “The other tissues could provide healthier cells. It’s the same thing with low levels of radiation—it’s replaced your natural immune system, by the way.”

“Oh?”

“That’s why you never get sick. Even if something gets damaged, its destroyed and replaced. That does leave the possibility of autoimmune diseases and allergies, but you were lucky in that regard.”

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Unfortunately, not all her research involved organs safely separated from Jackie. He enjoyed his break from being a subject, but there were some things hearts and skin samples couldn’t test. 

They were in the kitchen, about a week later. Or, Jackie was in the kitchen, and Heather had just entered. She was hovering near him with a conflicted expression, which wasn’t making it easy to enjoy his breakfast.

“Do you need something?” he finally asked her.

“Yes.” She hesitated. “I need you to not eat anything for three days.”

He glanced at the open pantry. “Starting now?”

“That would be ideal.”

He pushed the pantry door closed with a disappointed expression. “Whatever you say, doc.”

It was a great contribution to science, she told him. It could help a lot of people, she told him. It could be incredibly valuable! Really, what was three days when compared to this piece of eternal knowledge? They could learn how he managed to survive without food—they could discover how he accomplished the impossible! It was a small sacrifice in the grand scheme of things. Still, whatever she told him couldn’t change the fact that he had to starve for seventy-two hours. He had done it before, and he could do it again, but he wouldn’t enjoy it. 

During this period, he mostly lay in his bed in the basement, trying not to think of the kitchen with all its glorious treasures, every piece of food just out of reach. He considered stealing, but ultimately decided against it. Mainly because all the food was locked away. A padlock on the fridge, and one on each pantry door. Where Heather got all those locks from, he had no clue. But he would have given in if he could. The first hours of hunger were always the worst.

By the end he was rewarded with a bowl of pasta, and Heather with her answers: the organism produced energy for him when his body starved. It could create the necessary substances under certain circumstances, using certain chemical reactions, although it was only enough to keep him alive. Hence, the headaches and the fatigue. Jackie barely listened to any of this, however. The food preoccupied all his attention.

In the end, Heather might have thought these things were crucial discoveries, the crux of scientific knowledge, but he couldn’t care less. His worries had narrowed mostly down to base needs—food, water, shelter, a safe place to sleep. It concerned him a little, that he had reverted to such an undignified state of mind. Only animals thought of survival. People thought of living beyond that, to understand their nature, to have awareness and choice. But he wasn't in a position to want something more.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Taglist:

@theelvishcowgirl @lthrboy @whumpy-wyrms

@yassifiedinformation @creppersfunpalooza

@vidawhump

[heardatmedschool]

A quick guide on what different titles mean in my posts

(Since education AND healthcare systems vary around the world).

Medical Student (4.5-5 years)

You can get into medical school straight out of high school. College degrees do exist, but they are not the norm, not for medicine, and not for any career, tbh.

You fist 2-3 years are mostly theory. Calculus, chemistry, biology, anatomy, histology, embriology, physiology, pathology, physiopathology, microbiology, pharmacology…. That period end with semiology, and you get a Bachelor’s Degree in Medical Science.

Then, for the next 2 years, you have your clinicals, in which you spend half of the day in the hospital, with patients, and half the day in class, but definitely more focused on patient care and management.

Med student in clinicals = baby of the team (most of the time).

When you finish, you get your Academic Degree, Licenciate in Medicine.

Medical Intern (1.5-2 years)

No longer a student, you are now in your professional practice. Although you are technically still in med school in your university, you can say goodbye to classes, since you’re now a worker.

Probably bottom of the food chain, and probably does all the paperwork that nobody wants to do, but it’s a period where you gain a lot of independence and knowledge through work.

When you finish, you get your Professional Title, Médico Cirujano, but also need to pass a national test (EUNACOM) in order to be able to work.

Once you are a Doctor, you can work with that, or you can specialize.

Resident Doctor

A doctor, who is both working and studying towards a specialty.

Staff

Doctor who is on charge of a team. Tends to be an specialist.

Other titles that may cause confusion:

CNA: I use CNA to refer to TENS (Técnico de Enfermería de Nivel Superior). Technical degree (2.5 years). Takes care of patient’s basic needs, vital signs, may administer non-prescription medications.

Scrub tech: An specialized TENS. Takes care of the surgical instrumental and the sterile field in the OR.

Other TENS specializations: (that aren’t shared with other workers) Ambulance paramedic, anesthesia tech, trauma tech (takes care of plasters).

Medical Technologist: University degree (5Y). In charge of handling the machines and advanced technology equipment. They have 5 sub-specialties: ENT, ophthalmology, morphophysiopathology, blood bank and radiology.

Kinesiologist: University degree (5Y). They encapsulate both Physical Therapy and Respiratory Therapy.

Midwife: University Degree (5Y). Kind of like L&D nurses. Also in charge of reproductive health (i.e inserts IUDs, tests for STIs). Can assist births without a doctor if uncomplicated.

Other professionals that may not need further explanation:

Nurse.

Nutritionist.

Speech therapy.

Occupational therapy.

[the-monkeies-girl]

Hi Em and POTA fam 🫶🏼 *deep breath & wipes away tears*

I’m having a difficult time with my career choice and where I’m at in life.

I’ve been accepted into this amazing internship to be a surgical tech (sort assisting but mainly setting up for the cases and passing of instruments) and get on the job training- it’s been something I’ve been wanting to do and I felt like it was something I was going to be like so in love with but- I don’t think I do. At all. And I hate that. Thinking about it long term I just don’t think I can truly see myself doing it. I’m finally doing something that my family is proud of me doing and all but like at the same time they thought I was going to be a sterile processing tech (just cleaning and organizing surgical instruments) in their minds ya know - easy work. Which was depressing to find out once I knew why they encouraged me to do so.

But anyways yeah- I don’t know what to do and I just could really use some words of encouragement and guidance .

A part of me just wants to leave and find another job while I’m studying for medical coding. I’ve been studying for this as it has been my backup plan just incase.

Hi, Hi. I'm so heartbroken to hear about the dilemma you find yourself in. Finding and paving a career is truly something that is not talked about often enough because at the end of the day, we only hear about the success of it all and never the true endeavor it takes for someone to get there. There's no timetable. That's advice I will give to anyone. There's no shame in trying something out and not liking it. There's no true way to tell if you'd like it unless you give it a try! And if you don't want to? No shame in that either, you know yourself the best and you make the choices YOU want to make, not the ones that your family feel are best for you. That's something that's really hard to break away from, I understand. I spent a lot of my young adult life comparing myself to my siblings or doing things that never sparked my interests as far as careers go and it was very depressing. Like I said, I know it's a hard cycle to break but I would start there. Self-reflection is a powerful tool.

We all deserve to do something we love, either professionally or career wise. I work a full time job on top of writing because that's how much it means to me. I really wish I had better words for all of this, it's a really hard decision to make but just know...

You have time.

You are your own person and NOT who your family is expecting. You have the devotion to change your life if you want, not them. It's great to have a backup too. My husband didn't score his dream job until he was 33. He loves it, he's happy now but it look literally all of his twenties building himself into it and to realize that he wanted a career in the field he chose.

Just know. You have time to figure it out, there's never a timetable. Do what you feel is right for you and no one else.

I love you, I will support you no matter what happens. Send me a message when you decide what to do, I will be here to cheer you on.

[killed-by-choice]

“Tara Roe,” 32 (USA 2005)

“Tara” was a 32-year-old Black woman who died after three consecutive abortion attempts.

Tara initially went to an abortion facility for a surgical abortion. However, this attempt failed because of a fibroid that blocked attempts to insert tools into her endocervical canal.

The abortionist administered mifepristone for a chemical abortion on May 21 and sent her home with instructions to take 600 mg of misoprostol on May 24. However, Tara reported that the pill fell out of her vagina. (Note that mifepristone suppresses the immune system and that the FDA had never approved use of the drug as a vaginal suppository.) An ultrasound showed that she was still pregnant.

A third abortion was attempted, this one surgical. The abortionist managed to carry out the abortion despite the fibroid, but Tara suffered severe bleeding as a result. (It is likely that surgical instruments were forced past the obstruction and caused damage.) The bleeding reportedly stopped spontaneously and Tara was discharged despite having low hematocrit from all the blood loss.

Tara later went to the emergency room. It was reported that she “apparently looked OK” but had a white blood cell count of over 14,000, abdominal pain, subjective fever and low hematocrit. She was admitted to the ward.

24 hours later, Tara suffered decompensation, hypotension and shortness of breath. She was transferred emergently to the ICU and had to be intubated. Workup for a pulmonary embolism started, but her condition became so bad that she was brought to the OR for a hysterectomy.

Unfortunately, Tara was so sick that even hospitalization in the ICU, intubation and hysterectomy were not enough to save her. She died on the operating table at 11:20 P.M. on June 22, 2005.

Tara’s family decided not to have an autopsy performed. Pathology findings from her uterus, however, shed light on her condition. The uterus showed necrotic breakdown and endometrial inflammation. The endometrium contained serosanguinous pus. Cultures from the uterine cavity grew Peptostreptococcus. The fibroid that had blocked the first abortion attempts was now degenerated and full of thick, foul-smelling green pus. Cultures of the fibroid grew Prevotella. The CDC listed the cause of her death as “delayed onset toxic-shock like syndrome.”

While the medical professional who submitted a report of Tara’s death to MedWatch did not believe that mifepristone or misoprostol were the cause of her illness, they noted her surgical abortions. It is possible that when the instruments were forced past the fibroid and triggered the bleeding, the injury became badly infected. The CDC included Tara’s death as a maternal death after mifepristone/misoprostol abortion.

MedWatch report

[scotianostra]

John Rattray, the Scottish Jacobite Surgeon and golfer was born on September 22nd 1707, Craighall Castle, Rattray, Perthshire.

John’s father was an Episcopalian priest who became the Bishop of Dunkeld, then of Brechin and was elected Primus of the Scottish Episcopal Church. On his death in 1743 his elder son James became clan chief and inherited the estate. As the second son John had no such inheritance and he trained as a surgeon in Edinburgh by apprenticeship to the surgeon John Semple between 1728 and 1735, when he began surgical practice in Edinburgh. To enhance his professional status he applied to become a freeman (or fellow) of the Incorporation of Surgeons of Edinburgh (later the Royal College of Surgeons of Edinburgh) This involved sitting a series of four examinations which were held in the later months of 1740, and, having passed these, he was admitted a freeman of the Incorporation in November 1740.

In his spare time John Rattray was a keen sportsman he joined , The Royal Company of Archers in 1731 winning the archery competition for the silver punch bowl on 4 occasions and The Company’s most prestigious prize, the Edinburgh Arrow, twice. He was also a skilled golfer and his prowess at golf is recorded in this extract from the mock heroic poem ‘The Goff’ by Rev. Thomas Mathison published in 1743, the first poem devoted to the sport of golf.

North from Edina eight furlongs and more, Lies that fam’d field, on Fortha’s sounding shore. Here Caledonian Chiefs for health resort, Confirm their sinews by the manly sport. Macdonald and unmatch’d Dalrymple ply Their pond'rous weapons, and the green defy; Rattray for skill, and Corse for strength renown’d, Stewart and Lesly beat the sandy ground, And Brown and Alston, Chiefs well known to fame, And numbers more the Muse forbears to name. Gigantic Biggar here full oft is seen, Like huge behemoth on an Indian green; His bulk enormous scarce can 'scape the eyes, Amaz’d spectators wonder how he plies. Yea, here great Forbes, patron of the just, The dread of villains and the good man’s trust, When spent with toils in serving human kind, His body recreates, and unbends his mind.

John Rattray was one of the men who drew up the first ever Rules of Golf and on March 7th, 1744, the City of Edinburgh Council provided the Gentlemen Golfers at Leith (now the Honourable Company of Edinburgh Golfers at Muirfield) with a Silver Club on condition they draw up regulations for their competition and rules ‘for the goff’.The following month Rattray won the first ever competition for the Silver Club, was duly appointed ‘Captain of the Goff’ and became the sole signatory of the first known written ‘Rules of Golf’.

18 months later the Jacobites entered Edinburgh and Rattray’s older brother James, the Laird of Craighall, suggested he offer his medical services to Bonnie Prince Charlie, I say suggested, as Clan Chief he chose which side to be on for family members.

Please note not all followed their Clan Chief, this split many families down the middle, you had brothers taking different sides during th ‘45 Uprising.

As the Jacobites mobilised ahead of Prestonpans, Rattray, who lived at South Foulis Close off the High Street, rode to the East Lothian encampment along with John Lauder, a fellow of the Incorporation of Surgeons,according to their records he tended the wounded and travelled as surgeon with the army as it advanced into England and then retreated from Derby, eventually becoming surgeon general and personal surgeon to Prince Charles.

Records also show Rattray and Lauder were captured on the battlefield at Culloden on April 16 1746. The pair were held in a church in Inverness and their medical instruments removed, according to accounts. They were moved to Inverness Prison three days later. Their detention, however, was short lived after Lord President Forbes sought a direct reprieve for Rattray and Lauder from the Duke of Cumberland, Forbes, the same Forbes mentioned in the poem, and a friend of the surgeon.

Following his release, Rattray headed to Culloden House, the family home of his golfing companion.

One account of his release in The Lyon in Mourning, a collection of papers, letters and speeches of Jacobite supporters of the ‘45 Uprising, said: “Mr John Rattray came to Culloden House after his liberation at Inverness. President Forbes told the said Mr Rattray that he had obtained his liberation upon condition that he should become evidence.”

John Rattray was horrified by the prospect of becoming a witness for the state, according to the account.

It added: “This provoked Mr Rattray so much that he told the President in a passion that he would far choose to give himself up in a second and to return to the miserable situation of a prisoner once more than to become an evidence.”

Lord President Forbes convinced him not to surrender with the law man sure he was able to spare the surgeon. The medics returned to Edinburgh and Rattray confided in a friend about Lord Presidents’ offer.

It is said the Lord President, who died the following year, was so taken aback at Rattray sharing details of the proposal that “it had bad effects upon the President’s health, and even hastened his death.

“It is indeed a prevailing opinion that the President died of a broken heart,” the account said.

Rattray was quickly seized in the capital and was again taken prisoner on 28 May 1746 before being sent to London, by Cumberland’s orders, to act as a witness.

He was finally released on January 7 1747 and eventually returned to his usual routine of work and sport.

In 1751, he won the Silver Club for the third time. Today, you can visit a statue of John Rattray on Leith Links, close to the first hole of the original course that was played 276 years ago. He died in Edinburgh on 5th July 1771.

[whumpy-daydreams]

The operation

Masterlist

No, I am not going to fit the entire process of every operation into one post. That's stupid. Instead I'm going to talk about protocols and practices that happen in most (elective) surgeries (in the UK). Nevertheless this might be a long one so buckle in folks

Terminology (that I use)

Sets - trays of instruments. They're labelled e.g. D&C, small hand, tonsillectomy set. The instruments inside are the same in each type (normally, but more on that later)

Soft packs - contains drapes, kidney dishes, swabs, sutures, blades, and other miscellaneous things. These are made for different surgeries/specialties e.g. knee arthroscopy pack, hand pack

Swabs - sterile cloths used to soak up blood and clean surgical sites

Scrubbing in - a surgical handwash and method of making yourself sterile. Once you're scrubbed in you can only touch other sterile things

Scrub nurse - is scrubbed in and therefore sterile, hands things to the surgeon

Circulator - not scrubbed in, helps the scrub nurse with anything non-sterile

Prep - a liquid that sterilises the surgical site prior to incision. Usually either alcohol or iodine based

Patient safety

WHO checks - a series of questions asked through the entire surgical process to make sure we're doing the right operation on the right person and know any allergies, consent, etc.

Surgical count - all instruments, needles, blades, and swabs need to be counted at the beginning (before the first incision) and end of (before the wound is closed) surgery. This is to make sure nothing has been left inside the patient and requires 2 people. It is done by the scrub nurse and a circulator. Everything opened is written down so you don't forget how much stuff you've got

Checking drugs - any drugs that are given e.g. injections to surgical site, have to be checked. Most are checked with the anaesthetist/surgeon by looking at drug name, strength, and use by date

Sterility - nothing unsterile touches anything sterile. If something sterile is suspected to have been contaminated, it should be removed and replaced. This is to prevent infection

Preparing and starting surgery

Usually the surgeon doesn't help with setting up. The nurses and other healthcare professionals do that to protect their fragile egos (this is a joke, surgeons are usually doing something else)

Once the scrub nurse is sterile, they begin to set up their sets and count them against a list with the circulator. The circulator opens extra equipment, swabs, needles etc. without touching the inside to keep it sterile and this is written down.

When the surgeon is scrubbed in they check patient details and start prepping the surgical site: using prep on the skin and applying drapes around it (this may be more complicated on limbs when using a tourniquet)

Before the first incision everyone stops and does a check (right patient, right operation, risks, expected blood loss, etc.). After that everyone's ready to go!

When the operation's done and the surgeon starts to close the final count is done. Everything (and i mean everything) gets counted again, and stuff starts getting packed away. Provided everything's accounted for, the wound can be completely closed. It's usually cleaned a bit and then a big old plaster goes on top.

All the drapes come off and everyone starts cleaning manically! There's one last check (name, operation, total blood loss, all drugs prescribed, iv flushed, any concerns) and then it's time to wake the patient up!

[bouncyballcitadel]

“Wellness Break” - A Short Snippet

Davy/MC + surgery interns + pumpkin carving

You've figured out that there are two types of people: those who put on gloves before scooping out their pumpkins and those who just go in raw. 

As your co-interns start carving out their pumpkins, you sneak a peek at everyone's progress. Xiao, predictably, has gone all in - pulling out goopy fistfuls of pumpkin seeds with a "I fucking hate this" look on his face. Riley, on the other hand, is just pulling on his gloves, looking at Xiao with visible disdain. 

And you? You have pumpkin juice under your fingernails. 

You glance at Davy beside you, notice that they've laid out the pumpkin carving tools like surgical instruments on a paper towel. You watch as they slip on gloves and then delicately carve out the pumpkin stem before removing the innards with a spatula. 

"How's the patient?" you ask, lightly bumping your hip against them. 

You see the corner of their mouth curve up. "Could be better."

"Do you need an assistant?"

Davy looks over at your "patient" who now has had all its viscera excavated. "What about yours?"

"I'll put in a consult." You pass your pumpkin over to Reese. "Think you can handle one more?"

Reese nods solemnly. "I'm ready."

"You two are ridiculous," Davy says. "You should never scrub in together."

"Excuse you, I'm a consummate professional." You wipe your hands on a paper towel, pull on gloves. "All right, doctor. It's a beautiful day to save lives."

"If you're Derek Shepherd, does that make me Meredith Grey?" Davy sets their spatula down. "Scalpel."

You pass the scalpel to Davy's outstretched hand, feel a thrill of pleasure run through you when their fingers curl around yours for just the briefest squeeze. "Nah. The real McDreamy is Dr. Grey."

"Should I be jealous?"

"Absolutely not." You press lightly against Davy's side before lowering your voice into a purr. "I'm yours."

Davy looks over to you, and even though you're surrounded bv all your other co-interns, it's easy to pretend that it's just the two of you in the room. They have that effect on you, especially when they're so close, their gaze molten. If someone asked you what you found most attractive about Davy, the answer's easy: not their body, not their talent, but the way they look at you with their undivided attention, the way you feel seen.

"Hey," you say softly. 

"Hey," they say back. 

"Can we keep it PG-13?" Xiao interrupts. "Your obvious love and intimacy is making me gag."

Davy snorts, and you laugh - the moment broken. 

"I'm not the one making goo-goo eyes at Diana and Ari every five minutes," you say. 

"I do not!" Xiao huffs. 

"You do," Riley says. "It's sickening."

"I hate you." 

"I think it's cute," Reese chimes in. 

You see Xiao's cheeks flush an even deeper pink. "I hate all of you."

[medtalksmy]

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[lastlycoris]

Rant start. Had to interact with a gem of a patient this morning. I operated on her two days ago. Did my surgical rounds, and patient immediately started threatening to sue me for ruining her bikini body because I did open surgery (exploratory laparotomy) when I could've done laparoscopy instead.

--

Exploratory laparotomy is the standard of care in unstable abdominal trauma. It essentially involves cutting a vertical line through the abdomen to expose the organs and get the lay of the land quickly.

Laparoscopy on the other hand involves poking three relatively small holes in the abdomen using trochars (pointy hollow tubes), maybe the diameter of the bellybutton each. And you then inflate the stomach with CO2 to get maximum distention- and then you place the instruments and camera through the holes / trochars and operate that way. Laparoscopy is considered minimally-invasive surgery.

---

First of all, ma'am, you drove drunk at 100 mph and crashed straight into the divider at 1 a.m. You're lucky to be alive. And that's before the mess in your abdomen that I had to deal with. The Emergency Department barely started processing you before you started crashing.

You got taken to the OR where I was waiting because the paramedics already suspected you had internal bleeding, and I had 6 bags of type O blood waiting for you. And I immediately ordered more blood when I opened you up and blood started gushing out like a bad martial arts anime.

As it was, you shattered your spleen, which was why you were bleeding to death. You also lacerated your pancreas and kidney, but given that the bleeding was minimal from those organs and your pancreatic duct was miraculously intact, I defered these issues in favor of the problem actively killing you. I had to take out your spleen and ligate the associated artery. I transfused a little more than 10 U of blood - I practically transfered your entire body's worth of blood.

Dealing with that using laparoscopy - three trocars / viewport with a severely limited field of view? I would've immediately had to convert to open surgery cause your organs were swimming in blood and I wouldn't have been able to see a thing. You probably would've died from that delay.

You're lucky I still value being professional. Otherwise, my explanation would've been a lot more mockery. I don't have to be polite. I'm not getting reimbursed by Medicare or actually getting paid propeely for my work- thus I am not at the whims of Patient Satisfaction Surveys.

As it was, she then yelled at the nurse to get the "real doctor" in here. And I think nurse Abbey who knows the conditions of my employment here is giving me imploring looks as if asking "Please don't commit violence on the patient."

I just stated that I am her surgeon - and tried to do a physical exam and got rebuffed. Took that as my cue to leave. Except then she started yelling that I can't leave and tells me how I'm going to make up for this or else she'll sue.

Back to square one apparently.

I finally did what I should've done a conversation back - and told her that because she brought up litigation that I am no longer allowed to speak to her - and she can speak to Risk Management instead. And then I left with the nurse amidst her yells. I am literally not getting paid enough to deal with this.