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emospritelet · 4 years ago

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Twisted Fate - chapter 23

31: We have to let go

Last time, Belle and Gold made the final preparations for their baby, and Belle sought a reconciliation with her father. Here’s what happened next.

[AO3]

Gold pushed the jeweller’s glass into his eye socket, peering at the tiny cog on the square of black velvet. He reached for the pair of steel tweezers by its side, carefully picking up the cog and transferring it to the silver music box that lay open in front of him. He had been working on it whenever he had a spare moment whilst in Storybrooke, though in truth there had been little opportunity since he had effectively moved to Boston. Belle had not returned from visiting her father, and in order to distract himself from thoughts of marching over there to make sure she was alright, he had decided to concentrate on the music box. Over the past six weeks or so he had cleaned the mechanism, replaced the bent and broken pieces, and carefully and methodically put every piece in its place. This was among the last of them.

The sound of the shop doorbell made him glance up, and he shook his head, turning back to his work.

“A moment,” he called. “I’ll be with you in a moment.”

“It’s okay, it’s only me.”

Belle’s voice made him smile, and he put down the tweezers, removing the glass from his eye socket and turning on the stool to face her as she pushed the curtain aside and stepped into the back room. She looked a little strained around the eyes, but she was smiling.

“How did it go?” she asked, and he raised an eyebrow.

“That was going to be my question.”

“Oh…” Belle sighed, flopping down on the cot. “Okay, I guess. He apologised. Kind of. We talked. He’s not happy about you being in my life, but I told him he’ll have to get used to it.”

“Hmm.” Gold ran a hand through his hair. “Christmas will be fun.”

“Yeah, I’m trying not to think about that.”

Her tone was very dry, and it made him grin, even as he shuddered internally at the thought of having to spend the festive season with Moe French.

“The shop’s doing okay,” she went on. “I had a quick look through the accounts. He’s got a few weddings this month, which is always good for business. Keeps complaining about not having the time to do anything else, so I’ve tried to convince him to get some help in.”

“You think that’s likely?” he asked. “He always managed by himself before you helped him out. I presumed he’d do the same after you left.”

“Yeah, but I think he needs to,” she said. “Just a few hours. Maybe get one of the school seniors to help at weekends, or something. They could cover the shop while he does the wedding arrangements.”

“Well, perhaps he’ll take your advice,” said Gold, and Belle pulled a face.

“He doesn’t look too well,” she said then. “Says he’s been very tired recently. I told him to go to the doctor, but you know how he is.”

“You think it’s something serious?” he asked, and she shrugged.

“He’s overweight, diabetic, high blood pressure - I just worry his heart is gonna give out one day,” she said. “It’s not as though he looks after himself. The shop keeps him active, I suppose, but I bet he’s still drinking too much and avoiding veggies like they’re poison.”

“Well, you can only suggest a course of action,” he said. “It’s up to him to take it.”

“I know.”

She looked gloomy, and he tried to steer her away from talk of her father’s ill health.

“What did he say about the baby?” he asked.

“Asked when it was due, if I had everything I needed…” Belle put a hand to the small of her back. “He says he’ll visit when the baby’s born.”

“Great.”

It was said under his breath, and he winced at the reluctant tone of his voice.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I know you wanted to make things up with him. I’m happy for you, really. Don’t listen to my complaining.”

“Can I have that in writing?” She looked amused, and he smiled.

“You know how I feel about formalising agreements.”

“Well, I’d hate to hold you to a promise you can’t keep,” she teased. “How about you buy me dinner tonight and we call it even?”

“That sounds like a deal I couldn’t possibly refuse,” he said. “Are you ready to head back?”

“I think so.” She peered at the bench behind him. “What are you working on?”

“Oh - it’s a music box,” he said. “I’ve been restoring it for some time now. Almost finished.”

“Oh.” She heaved a breath, letting her shoulders drop as she let out a sigh. “You can finish it, if you like. I don’t mind waiting.”

Gold hesitated, glancing over his shoulder at the music box.

“No, it’s okay,” he said. “I’ll be here next week, after all. Gives me something to do in between dealing with business matters.”

She smiled, and he pushed to his feet, carefully putting the remaining pieces of the music box into a small pot and rolling up the square of black velvet. Belle was chewing her lip, staring off into the distance, and he folded his hands over the cane handle, looking at her.

“We can always stay another night, if you’re worried about him,” he said. “I could - uh - make dinner. You could invite him round. If you like.”

Belle glanced around at that, and the way her eyes lit up made him forget about any distaste he felt at the idea of spending an evening with Moe French.

“That’s very kind of you,” she said, her tone warm. “But I think we’ll take things one step at a time. I still haven’t talked to him about all those ridiculous lies he told you about me and Gaston.”

“Ah.” Gold wanted to scowl at the memory, but he kept his face neutral.

“Not sure I will,” she added. “At least not right now. I don’t think I have the energy.”

“Fair enough.”

“How did things go with Dr Hopper?” she asked, and he blew out his cheeks, huffing air.

“We’re making progress,” he said. “Slow, but progress all the same.”

"Good."

"The fact that it's slow is my fault, not his," he added, and she gave him a patient look.

"It's no one's fault," she said gently. "It's just a process, and it takes as long as it takes."

"Yeah." He sighed the word, looking at the floor. "I suppose there are no quick fixes, are there?"

"Exactly," she said. "So no giving yourself a hard time because you're not magically fixed after a few sessions, okay?"

"Okay." He looked up again and smiled at her. "Dr Hopper says the same. And the sessions are going about as well as could be expected, in the circumstances. So that's something."

“Well, that’s good.” Belle stood, shouldering her bag and rolling her shoulders. “You want to tell me about it in the car? I think I want to get home.”

“Of course.”

Gold took off the apron he was wearing and went to the small bathroom to wash his hands. When he returned Belle was peering at the music box with a tiny smile on her face.

“It’s so pretty,” she said. “What tune does it play?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“Is it for sale?”

“Perhaps,” he said. “We’ll see how it sounds. Maybe we can play it to the baby, get him to fall asleep.”

Belle straightened up, beaming at him.

“You think it’s a boy?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “That was a slip of the tongue. Honestly, I’d be happy with anything as long as it’s human.”

He grinned at her, and Belle bit her lip, looking amused.

“I think we can guarantee it’ll be human.”

“The rest of Storybrooke may question that, given that I’m the father,” he remarked dryly.

“Well, the rest of Storybrooke can kiss my arse, then,” she said, and Gold burst out laughing, reaching out to take her hand and pull her close.

“Oh, I’m not sharing that pleasure with anyone,” he murmured, and bent his head to kiss her.

Belle found that she grew nervous as April wore on and the time for the baby to be born drew nearer. She told herself it was fear of the unknown; no matter how many books she read or videos she watched on the birthing process, she felt that she knew nothing at all. Emma had been wonderful, patiently talking her through every minute of her labour with Henry, but Belle was well aware that Emma’s experience would not necessarily be her own. It didn't help that she was now extremely uncomfortable; the baby had moved, head down towards her pelvis, and she had been suffering from an ever-present backache and an overwhelming need to run to the bathroom. It reminded her that the baby would soon be outside of her, and that she would need to endure a lot of pain for that to happen. She told herself that women had been giving birth for thousands of years, and there was no reason she should find it any more difficult than they had, but she had made the mistake of reading about everything that could possibly go wrong in childbirth. It hadn't helped her nerves. At least her hospital bag was packed and ready to go. It sat in the hallway of the apartment and made her anxious every time she passed it.

She had expected Gold to be as nervous as she, given his past pain and the loss of his son, but he was surprisingly calm, and talked her down from a minor panic attack with soothing words and a bubble bath. He got in with her, sitting at the opposite end with his knees poking up through the fragrant bubbles, the hot water making his skin flush a little. Belle let him take her foot and start to massage it.

“Sorry I seem to be losing it,” she said, as she lay back. “How are you being so calm? We’re gonna be parents in like a fortnight!”

Gold grinned, his eyes soft, but still with that glint in them that she loved. His thumb worked magic circles on the ball of her foot, and she heaved a sigh, trying to relax.

“Yes, and I can’t wait,” he said. “Aren’t you excited?”

“Yes, but - mostly nervous,” she said. “I know it’ll hurt, but - but what if I can’t bear it?”

“You talked through your pain relief options,” he said. “You can speak to the doctor again, if you think it’ll put your mind at ease.”

“I guess.”

“I have every faith in you,” he added. “And in the medical staff. I know how independent you are, and how hard it can be to rely so completely on others, but in these circumstances, I think we both have to trust that they know better than we do. We have to let go.”

“Yeah.”

Belle chewed her lip, running a hand over the curve of her belly.

“I know you’re right,” she added.

“It’s perfectly natural to be nervous the first time,” he said soothingly. “I’m sure next time will be easier.”

“Next time?”

“Ah.” He squeezed his eyes shut, drawing his lower lip up over his teeth. “Forget I said that.”

“Hmm.” She was amused, and poked him with a foot. “Let’s get this one out before we think about the next, okay?”

“Agreed.”

He was grinning at her, and she couldn’t help smiling back, enjoying the easy banter. The fears were still there, whispering at the back of her mind, but she found that talking about them with him was helping.

“What if something goes wrong and they have to cut me open?” she said then.

“Then you’ll need to take things even easier after the birth and leave more to me, that’s what,” he said. “You’ll be in excellent hands. You have the best hospital staff in Boston caring for you and the baby, I promise.”

“I’d have a scar.”

Gold lifted her foot, kissing her toes.

“And it’ll be beautiful.”

“And - and even if I manage to give birth naturally, they’ll probably have to give me stitches,” she added. “That’s gotta hurt, right?”

Gold sighed.

“Look, I can’t pretend to understand your fears or to know what you’re going through,” he said gently. “But you are the bravest person I’ve ever known. I know you’re going to be just fine.”

He resumed the massage, thumb rubbing in slow circles, and Belle sighed, feeling the tension start to drain out of her.

“Sorry,” she said. “I just - I’ve been pregnant all this time and it’s like I’ve just realised I actually have to get this person that’s inside me outside. Does that make sense?”

Gold shrugged, grinning.

“I’m not sure I can ever entirely empathise,” he said. “I suppose I’ll have to settle for being as helpful as I can.”

“Well, you’ve certainly made yourself useful since you moved in,” she said, poking him with her toes again, and his grin widened.

“Indispensable, I would hope.”

“Absolutely.”

“Glad to hear it.”

Belle giggled a little, and wriggled a little, slipping down in the hot water and letting out a long, heavy sigh as she felt her body soften under the rhythmic sweeps of his thumbs.

“That’s better,” he murmured, moving his hands up to massage her calf. “Just relax.”

“Mm.” Belle watched him through half-closed eyes. “Emma, Neal and Henry are coming over Friday, by the way. Do you think you could make something for dinner? Nothing fancy, just anything I can shove in the oven.”

“I don’t mind cooking while you talk to your friends,” he said absently, and looked up. “Oh, unless you want me to find somewhere else to be, of course.”

“It’s not that,” she said. “Of course you could be here. It’s just I thought you’d be in Storybrooke most of the day.”

Gold pulled a face.

“You sure you want me to go?” he asked. “It’s the week before the baby’s due.”

“What about your therapy session?” she asked, and he sighed.

“True,” he allowed. “I suppose I really should try to make that.”

“Do you not want to go?”

Gold hesitated a moment, then shook his head.

“It’s not that,” he said. “It’s just - well, perhaps you’re not the only one who’s a little nervous. Maybe I’m just better at hiding it. I want to be here for you every step of the way, and I worry about leaving you alone for any length of time. Just in case.”

Belle smiled, reaching out to run a hand over his knee.

“It’s only a few hours away,” she pointed out. “And it’s only one day. I’m sure I’ll be fine. Besides, Emma and Neal will be here, it’s not like I’ll be alone.”

“Alright,” he said. “If you’re sure.”

He let go of her foot, and she slipped it back under the water as he reached for the other.

“You said your father was planning on coming to Boston,” he said. “Did he say when?”

“No, he said he’d let me settle in with the baby first,” she said. “He asked that I call him when it’s born, but I think he was planning on leaving the visit for a week or two.”

“Will he stay long?”

“I doubt it. He has the shop to run for a start, and unless he gets an assistant in like I suggested, there’s no one to cover. I imagine it’ll only be for a day or two.”

Gold nodded, and she gave him a wry look.

“I think he’s planning on making his own way here,” she added. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna ask you to go pick him up.”

He grunted at that.

“Good,” he remarked. “The idea of spending four hours in a confined space with Moe French doesn’t fill me with joy, I have to confess.”

“I expect the feeling’s mutual.”

A soft chuckle, and he glanced up at her.

“Don’t know how you put up with us.”

“Well, I’m an extremely patient person.”

“I noticed,” he said, with a wry twist to his mouth. “Far too good for the likes of me.”

Belle pressed her lips together.

“I thought we agreed you wouldn’t trash talk yourself anymore,” she said sternly, and he inclined his head.

“Work in progress,” he said.

“Hmm.”

“I’ve had years of practice, after all,” he added. “Old habits die hard.”

Belle sat forward, reaching up with one hand to cup his cheek. Bubbles ran over her arm, dripping into the bath around them, and she held his eyes with her own.

“You’re a good man,” she said gently. “And you’re going to be a wonderful father. Okay?”

Gold smiled, leaning into her touch.

“I’ll do my best,” he said. “I promise you that.”

“That’s all anyone could ask.”

He kissed her fingertips, and she settled back in the warm water with a sigh as he continued his massage. Two weeks until the baby gets here. We’re going to be a family.

The clock on the wall ticked slowly. Gold was sitting on the couch with his elbows on his knees, studying the rug between the shining toes of his shoes. Dr Hopper was waiting patiently for him to speak, and he threaded his fingers together and pulled them apart, a whispery sound of skin against skin.

“So you said the baby was due on May fifth,” said Dr Hopper. “How are you feeling about that?”

“Belle’s nervous,” said Gold, fingers moving restlessly. “I’ve tried to reassure her, but she’s anxious about the birth.”

“Well, that’s understandable, given that this is her first child.”

“I know. I’ve tried to tell her that, but I’m not sure I’m helping.”

Dr Hopper scribbled briefly.

“And how do you feel about it?” he asked. Gold shrugged.

“She’s in good hands. I’m sure she’ll be fine. I don’t want to see her in pain, of course.”

“And the baby?”

“The baby will be fine too.”

“That’s not what I meant,” said Dr Hopper calmly. “You said in our first meeting that you were excited to be a father again. Do you have any other feelings?”

Gold hesitated, ducking his head a little.

“I am excited,” he said eventually. “But there’s this underlying sense of - unease - I suppose.”

“About what?”

“About bringing this child into the world when I couldn’t hold onto the last,” he said, his voice soft. “About whether I’ll fail to protect it. Whether I’ll be - enough.”

“Do you worry that Belle will take it from you?”

“No,” he said, after a pause. “No, I don’t think she’d do that. Not really. Not now I’ve told her how much the thought of it scares me. Belle wouldn’t use my own fears against me like that. She isn’t cruel.”

“Of course not.”

Dr Hopper waited, and Gold ran a hand across the back of his neck, feeling awkward.

“It’s more a fear of what may happen in the future,” he said eventually. “That my child will leave and not come back. That I’ll drive him away; something that I say or do will be the last straw, and he’ll leave.”

“I see.” He could hear the sound of Dr Hopper’s pen scratching away. “Is there anything that sets off this train of thought?”

“Not really.” Gold thought for a moment. “Maybe. When I think about Bailey.”

“Your first son?” Dr Hopper nodded slowly. “You said he was two when his mother took him away.”

“Yes.”

“What was it that made her go?”

“I don’t know…” Gold sat back with a sigh. “She was seeing someone else. She was bored with me. I wanted financial and physical stability for our child, and she wanted excitement and - and drama for herself. The two were incompatible. We were incompatible.”

“Was there something specific that you said or did that made her leave?”

“Not that I can think of.”

“So the leaving was her choice.”

“Yes.”

“And your son had no choice in the matter at all,” added Dr Hopper. “Being two.”

“No, of course not.”

“Then why do you think it makes you worry about this child leaving?”

Gold hesitated.

“I suppose when you say it like that, it’s ridiculous,” he admitted, and Dr Hopper smiled.

“Oh, I find there’s very little that’s completely ridiculous,” he said. “Sometimes the reasons behind someone’s thought patterns may be a little convoluted, but there’s usually some basis in reality. Unfortunately, sometimes our minds focus on the least likely and most painful scenarios that may come from that.”

“Oh, I’m well aware of that,” grumbled Gold.

“So if you know that it wasn’t your son’s choice to leave,” said Dr Hopper. “Why do you fear your second child leaving you?”

“Because he never came back.”

Gold snapped his mouth shut, feeling tears prick his eyes, a heavy weight seeming to shift inside him. Dr Hopper was silent, waiting, and he forced himself to speak.

“He never came back,” he repeated, his voice a hoarse whisper. “I tried to find him for - for years. I employed private detectives and followed up leads and took out advertisements....” He broke off with a bark of a laugh. “I even went on some of those stupid shows where they try to reunite you with lost loved ones. I thought - I thought even if he didn’t watch them himself, maybe someone who knew him would see, they’d tell him. And - and nothing. He doesn’t want to be found. He - he doesn’t want me to find him.”

“Do you think that’s because of something you did?” Dr Hopper’s tone was careful, and Gold shrugged.

“Maybe it was what I didn’t do,” he said. “Milah always said I worked too much. I should have spent more time with him.”

“How much do you think he remembers?” asked Dr Hopper. “Given that he was two.”

“I don’t know…” Gold ran his hands over his face. “Why wouldn’t he look for his father? If she abandoned him, if she left him with Social Services, why wouldn’t he seek me out? All these years I’ve told myself that maybe he had no information to go on, that she told him nothing about me, but maybe that’s not the case. Maybe he chose not to look.”

“I understand how painful those thoughts must be,” said Dr Hopper gently. “Let’s consider your other child for a moment. You worry that you’ll do or say something to make this child leave and not come back.”

“Yes.”

“Some - confrontation, perhaps,” he went on. “I’m assuming you’re looking ahead to when the child is a teenager or a young adult.”

“Yes.”

“Conflict between a parent and child is the most natural thing in the world,” added Dr Hopper, his tone reassuring. “Especially when a child is maturing and starting to make its own choices.”

“I don’t want to be the reason my child leaves,” whispered Gold, and Dr Hopper smiled.

“Then how about you and I talk through some ways of communicating that should maximise your chances of avoiding something like that?” he suggested.

“Alright.” Gold nodded. “Yes. Good.”

“You’ll probably find these techniques useful in other relationships,” he added, and Gold gave him a wry smile.

“Good.”

“I’m going to give you some homework to do, as well,” said Dr Hopper. “Recording these unwanted thoughts. There are some worksheets I’d like you to complete. A kind of journal.”

“Alright.” Gold slumped a little in the chair, feeling drained. “It’ll give me something to do while we’re waiting for the baby to arrive.”

“So.” Emma slumped into one of the kitchen chairs, folding her arms across the back and eyeing Belle. “Not long now. You have your bag packed and ready?”

“It’s in the hall,” said Belle, sliding the casserole into the oven and closing the door. “You guys want a drink?”

“You sit down, me and Henry are on it,” said Neal. “I’m guessing some sort of tea?”

“Yeah, can I have fennel?” asked Belle, rubbing a hand over her belly. “This little guy’s been kicking so hard it gave me indigestion.”

“Wine for me,” said Emma, and grinned at Belle. “Hey, I can’t wait until the two of us can have a girls’ night. You can leave Gold changing diapers and come out and get wasted.”

“Looking forward to it.”

Belle sat down with a sigh of relief, still rubbing her belly. She had been having odd twinges all day, and it was getting on her nerves.

“I think he’d be in his element, anyway,” she said. “It’s gonna be a new thing for him, having a newborn to care for, but he’s been reading all the books. I think he’ll be great.”

“Wasn’t he around when his son was born?” asked Neal.

“I’m sure he would have been, had he known about it,” she said dryly, and Neal and Emma winced.

“Ouch,” said Emma. “Poor guy.”

“Yeah.” Belle slumped in her chair a little. “I get the feeling that’s not the only issue from his past that he needs to work through.”

“How’s the therapy going?” asked Emma, and Belle wrinkled her nose.

“He seems - less anxious about it,” she said eventually. “I think it took him a while to open up, but that’s no surprise. He’s committed to it, though.”

“Is that where he is now?”

“That’s the reason he went to Storybrooke, but he’s had his session,” said Belle. “I spoke to him this afternoon. He said he had a tenancy issue to sort out and then he’d be on his way back.”

She flinched as another spasm went through her. That one had hurt more than the last. Neal set a cup of fennel tea in front of her and gave Henry his cocoa before pouring two glasses of wine and slipping into the chair next to Emma. He was watching her with a tiny frown on his face.

“Are you okay?” he asked. “You keep wincing.”

“Yeah, just twinges,” said Belle, and Emma looked thoughtful.

“What kind of twinges?”

“Just - I don’t know, I guess the baby’s head is pressing on something. It’s been going on most of the day.”

“Does it hurt?”

“Well, it does now,” sighed Belle. “Figured it was Braxton Hicks. They’ve been driving me nuts this past month, but this is hurting more.”

“You got any backache?”

“Yeah,” said Belle, pressing a hand to her back. “God, I’ll be glad when this is over.”

“You may get your wish sooner than you think,” said Emma. “Sounds like you could be in early labour.”

“What?” Belle shook her head. “But the baby’s not due until next week.”

“Yeah, but babies don’t always stick to the schedule, and everything you just described could be early labour pains,” said Emma. “How often are you getting the twinges?”

“Oh, I dunno. Maybe a few times an hour?”

“Hmm.” Emma reached for her glass of wine. “You might want to time them. Could be nothing. Could be something.”

“Is the baby coming?” asked Henry excitedly.

“Maybe, kid.” Emma took a sip of her wine. “Belle, what time’s Alex getting back?”

“I don’t know, he said he’d call when he left.” Belle rubbed at her back, trying to ease the dull ache. “You think I should call him?”

“Not until you need to go to hospital,” said Emma. “If it is early labour you’ve probably got a good few hours before then. The baby probably won’t come until tomorrow.”

“Right.” Belle turned her mug of tea with nervous fingers. “Wow. Is this really it?”

Emma reached over to grasp her hand.

“You’re gonna be fine,” she said firmly. “We can time the contractions, and we’ll stay with you until Gold gets back, okay?”

“Okay.”

Belle tapped her fingers against the mug restlessly. The dull ache in her lower back was getting worse, and the pain wasn’t helped by her nerves.

“D’you want me to read you a story?” asked Henry. “I always feel better if I get a story.”

Belle smiled at him.

“Thanks Henry, that sounds great.”

“Cool! I’m gonna read you the one about Beauty and the Beast!”

He slipped from the table and ran through to the lounge to get the storybook he carried everywhere. Belle was feeling restless, fingers still tapping, and she pushed to her feet, almost toppling the chair over backwards.

“You okay?” asked Neal.

“Yeah, fine,” she muttered. “I’m just - excuse me a moment.”

She strode from the room, heading for the bathroom. There was wetness between her legs, a sudden rush of fluid. She had taken to wearing pads in the lead-up to her due date, as the literature suggested, and this felt like something that needed attention. A strong cramp went through her, and Belle stopped dead, pressing a hand to her belly with a groan, her heart thumping. How long since the last one? Ten minutes? Less?

“Belle?” Emma had put her head around the kitchen door and was eyeing her curiously. “You okay?”

Belle turned on her toes slowly, trying to steady her breathing as the cramping continued.

“Could you call Alex?” she asked. “I think my waters just broke.”

#fic: twisted fate #rumbelle fic #rumbelle #my fic

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thatmultifandomhoe · 4 years ago

Text

Type 2

Word Count: 10,755

Overview: You were diagnosed with Type 2 Diabetes in high school and ever since then, you’ve been able to manage it without a problem. Sticking to a schedule and monitoring your blood was easy, but then came Jimin and suddenly, you found yourself hiding it all from him. But when your blood sugar drops dangerously low in the middle of the night, Jimin’s the only one you can call for help.

Pairing: Jimin and Reader

Genre AU/Rating: - Established Relationship AU - Medical Condition AU - Slice of Life AU - Angst - Fluff Rated: PG-13

Warning: In order of appearance-: Implied bullying, extreme thirst, lack of appetite, weight loss, passing out, type 2 diabetes, drinking, swearing, insecurities, needles, mention of blood while using a blood glucose meter, extremely low blood sugar.

A/N: This is not the story of everyone who goes through Type 2 Diabetes. Not everyone has it when they’re in high school. This fic is loosely based on my experience with caring for my mother who is diabetic, and based on my own family’s history with this condition. My mother who almost her entire family is diabetic, so it was only a matter of time that she would become diabetic, except she was able to keep from being diagnosed until her mid to late 50s. That is not to say you can’t be diagnosed as young as high school or even in middle school, it can happen, I went to middle school with a girl who had a pump in 8th grade. This is just one story.

Master List:

Music Playlist:

Part of the Intimacy Anthology Project

©thatmultifandomhoe 2020. Do not repost, translate, or use my stories without permission.

It first started in high school.

But when you actually sat down and thought about it, the early symptoms were there a year prior in eighth grade. More often than not, your throat was dry, so you always had a water bottle next to you. Back then though it wasn’t as bad. Plus, any conversation with one of the girls who wore makeup every single day – it was always shocking when they announced that their mothers let them – swore that drinking a gallon of water a day, would help with maintaining clear skin.

Whether or not there was logic to this declaration was to be remain hidden – many years later you would learn that actually, there was no science between drinking water and having acne free skin – you and all the other girls hopped on the train. It was because of this promise of clear skin, that no one batted an eye when you began going through a bottle a day, or the fact that you were using the bathroom more often as well.

You were fourteen. Your body was changing, nothing made sense anymore. Happy one minute, then curled up in fetal position as that depressing Sarah McLachlan commercial played on the TV, and you were telling your parents that they needed to adopt a kitten because it was the right thing to do. How were you even supposed to know that what was happening, actually wasn’t all that normal?

Mom simply handed over your water bottle, a bag of the secret stash of chocolate, and a heated rice bag for the cramps, and everything was decently better.

You only thought the sudden extreme thirst was…part of it all.

In freshman year, you were going through bottles to the point that you bought a cute reusable water bottle that you decorated with stickers, never willing to admit how many times you had tipped it back for it to be empty. You weren’t exactly the poster child for going green and advocating climate change, but you weren’t stupid either and knew that the plastic bottles weren’t going to help the Earth.

The popular girls from eighth grade had surged up the ladder, and were now the queens of the freshman class and upturned noses. No longer were they giving compliments or suggestions on how to blend eyeshadow, or discussing the latest trends in fashion. Instead, they ignored the good mornings in the hallways from girls, and laughed as they slammed textbooks out of their hands. Smiles turned into grimaces, and helpful tips morphed into jeering and mean comments usually centered around everyone’s looks.

While you tried to not let their lies get to you, you couldn’t help but pause by a mirror and turn every which angle possible, trying to see the flaws that they pointed out all the time. It was confusing because to be perfectly honest, you were average. There was nothing that made you stand out from the crowd, nor did you hide in the shadows, you were simply in the middle and that never bothered you.

You never gave them the satisfaction of letting them see how their words affected you on the simple fact that they didn’t. Maybe you’d shrug, or raise an eyebrow, before turning away to drink from the trusty water bottle by your side. They meant nothing to you, but everyone around you thought that they did. Friends were quick to jump on the reassurance train, their gazes lingering on the food you barely touched. Even when it was taco Tuesday, you’d barely eat half of it or even less before getting full.

No one seemed to believe that you were full, or that drinking two whole bottles of water by noon made it impossible to shove more than a few bites down your throat.

Dinner was always hard. Sat between mom and dad, the looks they’d give each other as they watched you push at the small amount of food on your plate never went unnoticed. You’d lost track of all the times that mom came into your bedroom to ask if everything was okay, if the girls at school were saying things, or if there was perhaps a guy you were trying to impress. If only you’d gotten a dollar for every time someone asked you that, you would have been a millionaire by sixteen.

Soon you were making excuses to not have to eat around people, saying that you had made up a plate of whatever was left in the fridge and weren’t hungry. At school you started bringing a brown bag lunch. Since you weren’t eating the food you bought, it didn’t make sense to waste money on it. It took a while for your friends to get that you just weren’t hungry, but eventually they knew not to bring it up, letting you eat as little as you want and drink water.

That was fine with you. You were fine, that was what you told them and you wanted them to believe them. You didn’t want them to know that every night before bed you stood in front of the mirror on your wall, turning side to side and every which way to see the new curves from your chest to your hips, or the gap between your thighs.

They didn’t need to know that you despite the fact that you’d refill the water bottle three times a day at school, you’d refill it four additional times at home. Or how your belt now had extra holes that you had punched in it an attempt on your part to keep what was happening a secret.

Every weekend was reserved for sleepovers, movies, and at home facials with you and your friends, equally rotating between everyone’s house to keep it fair on who hosted. It was how you were able to relax and have fun, but it was hard to hide the sudden changes. At first, you started arriving already in your PJs, that way none of them had to see you change, but then they stared as you barely touched any of the snacks. The same ones that you all used to bake together. Then every time you got up to use the bathroom they’d sigh, having to pause the movie or wait for you to come back to continue playing whatever board game was out.

After three attempts, you stopped going to the sleepovers, giving some excuse that you weren’t feeling well, or that you were behind on a pile of homework. Whether they believed it or not, your friends accepted it without a second thought.

Those months of confusion and sudden changes felt like they were moving at a snail’s pace, but then one day you blinked and it was two days before Christmas, and none of your clothes fit you anymore. Everything was hanging on you, you were in the bathroom multiple times within a couple hours, and your throat felt like it was filled with sand that no matter how much water you drank, never seemed to offer any relief.

It was a vicious cycle that no one could ignore anymore. You weren’t yourself anymore, barely even a shell of the human who you had once been.

The morning it happened you had once again been in the bathroom going pee. When suddenly, your head felt heavy, too burdensome for your shoulders, so you leaned back against the wall to relieve yourself of some of the weight. Black dots filtered in your vision as you cleaned yourself up, the toilet flushing as you stumbled to the sink. The water rushed from the sink as you stood in front of the mirror, barely able to make out your own reflection and going fuzzy when you walked out of the bathroom, forgetting to turn off the water or the lights as you left. You didn’t remember even opening the door.

Someone had been walking by at the moment, although they didn’t know it, you felt like your mind was underwater, unable to think let alone speak as you tried to go back to your room. It was your mother. She stared wide eye at you stumbling around the hallway like a drunk and when she called out your name, you didn’t even hear her.

She called your name again. Then a third time. It was on the fourth that you looked over at her, your mouth moving and filled with sand, only nothing come out. The last thing you saw was her running towards you. Then it was dark.

The next time you’d open your eyes it was with a stark realization that you were no longer at home. A glance to your left revealed box monitors and tubes of all types, one of them connected to the IV in your arm and the other going to a monitor that was attached to your pointer finger. The bed wasn’t comfy and at some point, someone had changed you out of your PJs and into a light green hospital gown.

The door opened as a nurse in blue scrubs walked in, her blond ponytail pulled high up as she carried a chart, smiling when she saw you.

“Good to see that you’re awake,” she said, coming to your side to read the numbers, marking some notes down. “How are you feeling?”

Wetting your lips, you tried to speak but like always, your throat was dry.

The nurse glanced over and seeing your struggle, held up a finger as she walked to the connected bathroom, water suddenly running before being turned off as she came back with a plastic cup.

“Go slow,” she instructed, helping to bring the mattress up so you were sitting as she gave you the cup.

It took a few minutes, but when your throat wasn’t so dry, you tried again. “What happened? Where…where are my parents?”

She was changing out the IV bag for a new one, and you wondered if your body had really emptied that packet dry. “You passed out hun, but don’t worry, your parents just went to get some snacks from the vending machine. I’ll go get them and then the doctor will be right in to explain everything.”

“Am I okay?”

Her badge turned right side, showing her ID and that her name was Jenna. “Everything will be fine. The doctor will explain and answer any questions.”

You watched as Jenna connected a new IV bag, once again reassuring that she’d be back with everyone before leaving the room as the cold liquid entered your veins, surprising you with how good it felt.

Jenna kept her promise. First bring round your parents who hurried to hug you, telling you how worried they were about you and asking how you felt. In only a few short minutes the doctor came back with the nurse, smiling as she pulled out a chair to sit on.

It wasn’t cancer, nor was it anything uncommon that would puzzle the doctors on how you got, but rather something that you had heard of all the time in health classes.

You were diabetic. Type two to be exact.

They had run some blood tests and from what they were able to tell, your blood sugars had dropped low during your sleep and hadn’t gone back up when you woke. Combined with the loss of weight and dehydration you were experiencing, your body’s natural instinct was to protect itself and, in this case, that meant passing out.

The doctor reassured that it at least explained the various changes you had been experiencing, and as grateful as you were to finally understand what was going on, it now meant that your way of life was going to change, again.

Now your life revolved around using a glucose meter to check your blood sugar throughout the day, taking medicine that would help regulate your numbers, cutting back on sweets and various other foods that had tended to make them high. Slowly but surely you were able to gain back some of the weight you had lost, and the trips to the bathroom slowed down. You were living a new life trying to find the perfect balance.

One thing had been made clear by the doctor that day. This was lifelong. It was never going to go away; it was something that could only be managed.

So, you managed. All through high school, and then all through college, you managed to maintain your numbers, discovering that when you felt sluggish and off it usually meant your blood sugar was either really high or really low. Besides that, you normally felt fine and took shots at mealtimes and before bed to help regulate your levels.

That was the second, biggest change in your life. Every pill and medicine that the doctor prescribed to help with your levels had its side effects, and the world must have had a grudge on you because every single one made you ill or have a reaction. Usually insulin was a last resort option, but in your case, it was the only thing that appeared to help.

Downside to taking the shots were the prices, they were the true killer, but like everything in your life, you managed it all. Your parents of course worried, and the day you had moved out was perhaps the most nerve wracking for them. You were going to be on your own for the first time ever, it was a big moment, and as much as you appreciated and loved them, it was time for you leave home.

Having this new lifestyle didn’t mean you couldn’t do anything; your life was perhaps more or less the same as any other adult that you knew who was your age. Went to work five days a week as a dental hygienist, spent the weekends catching up on chores, and binge watching the latest shows on Netflix.

The only thing missing, was a love life.

It wasn’t that you didn’t try. There were multiple first dates and a couple second dates, but rarely was there a third. No matter what you did or how you tried to explain it, they all got uncomfortable when you mentioned that you were diabetic. At first it didn’t seem like it would be an issue. But when you’d get up a few minutes before the meal came and you’d explain that you needed to take a shot, they all clammed up. Like they were suddenly realizing that what you were more trouble than you originally appeared to be. That you actually had a condition that affected your life.

After that they’d stop calling, the texts they’d send were more apologetic and that they were busy. There were never anymore dates after that, and unable to help yourself you’d check their social media, not surprised when there were new pictures with a new girl, usually captioned with some type of heart emoji.

If they were dumping you for something that was out of your control, then you were the lucky one for avoiding what could be a toxic relationship. At least, that’s what you told yourself. It was good that you were waiting for the right person, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. How could anyone decide that you weren’t worth the time simply because you needed to take insulin?

You were a human being. Nowhere did it say you didn’t deserve love.

Despite that mindset, you once again found yourself coming home from a date that had no future of a third. Tossing your keys on the bed, you rummaged around your purse for the two cases stashed inside, still dressed in the cute outfit that had taken a majority of the morning to decide on. The cases themselves were adorable, and pretty cheap on Amazon. The first was purple and no bigger than your palm while zipped up. The second one was a light blue wristlet that was slightly longer.

You sighed while setting them on the nightstand, resentment filling your heart. The purple bag contained your pen and glucose meter with the test strips, and the other had your insulin, alcohol wipes, and spare needles. They were the very things that you needed to stay alive. They told you your numbers, it was how you decided on how many units to take with meals, and yet, they appeared to be a part of the reason that you couldn’t seem to hold on to a relationship.

It just fucking…sucked.

No longer caring that you had spent several hours to get the curls just right, you ran a hand through your hair. Mike had made it clear after your explanation for why you needed the light blue case just to go to the bathroom, that there wasn’t going to be a second date.

Which is fine, you thought, kicking off your heels and pulling your legs up to sit criss cross on the bed. He only talked about himself the entire time. And his ex-wife.

Maybe it was because you were telling them early on. Wasn’t there some unwritten rule about not talking about medical things on the first couple dates? Granted, a majority of them wanted to go out to eat for the dates and you couldn’t exactly not take a shot, but it wasn’t like you were doing it right there at the table. You always went to the restroom and used the stall with the changing table to be able to lay everything out.

Glancing at the two cases, you pressed your lips together. This was a major part of your life; it was part of your identity. But maybe…maybe if they didn’t know? What if you hid this from the next guy? It probably wouldn’t do much, if it did, were you really going to hide such an important part of yourself in the name of love?

They always seem to run off when I tell them, you thought. What’s the harm in waiting, and seeing if it’ll last more than a few dates before I tell?

It seemed pretty extreme. But there was only one way to find out.

As you settled back against the pillows, turning on Netflix once again, you couldn’t but hope that this didn’t backfire on you.

“You did what?”

Pressing your lips together, you rested your forehead against the fridge. It was a bad idea to tell you best friend what you had done. You knew that she’d say it was wrong to lie, to hide such an important part of your life from him. She was the voice of logic and reason, which was terrifying at times, but that was Kayla.

Grabbing the milk from the fridge, you glanced over your shoulder. She was staring at you, eyebrow raised as she tapped her nails against the table, waiting to hear your excuse.

“I…I haven’t told him.”

“And you’ve been dating for how long now?”

You stirred the mug until it was caramel in color, starring down at the coffee and partially wishing that you could shrink and run away from her reaction. “Three months.”

“Dude!”

Wincing, you stashed the milk away to carry the two cups of coffee to the table, setting Kayla’s down on the cozy you had out. She thanked you, absentmindedly stirring the spoon out of habit.

It was a Saturday ritual the two of you had since meeting in college. The two of you bonded while waiting in an excessive line for coffee on campus, and despite it being ridiculously long, neither one of you was willing to leave. Coffee was what you considered your life blood, and funny enough, so didn’t Kayla.

That day forward, the two of you always got coffee together before classes, and on Saturdays you bought a box of munchkins with iced coffee before retreating back to the lounge to relax and bitch about anything and everything. She knew about your diabetes, didn’t mind that you could only have a few treats before stopping, and when she hung out in your dorm room, she hadn’t been uncomfortable with seeing you having to take a shot.

After that semester, the two of you became roommates for the reminder of college. Even after graduating and moving out in the real world, getting real jobs, Saturdays were still for coffee and bitchin’.

“Walk me through this decision again?” She asked, reaching over for one of the glazed munchkins.

You lightly tapped the spoon against the rim of the coffee mug, slouching in your seat as you wrapped your fingers around it. The warmth spread through your fingers instantly, soothing a few nerves for the moment. Kayla was your best friend yes, but she also had very strong opinions.

“I was just, sick of finding dead ends,” you answered, staring down at the mud colored coffee. Just the way you liked it. “Every time I had explained that I needed to take a shot to manage my blood sugar, they all froze up. And then they’d tell me after the date ended that it wasn’t going to work, or they’d ghost me without any warning.”

It sucked. It really did, but for once you just wanted to be with someone and be happy. There had already been too many times that you’d gotten your hopes up over a guy only for it to end, without even an explanation no less.

Kayla covered your hand with hers, gently squeezing when you looked up at her. Her red hair was pulled up in a ponytail, her freckles scattered across her face and body. She refused to cover them up with makeup, and even then, you wouldn’t dare let her do so either. As much as you treasured her, you had witnessed first-hand her attempting to do makeup so badly that it nearly sent you to cardiac arrest.

“Hey,” she softly said. “Those guys were dick bags, there’s no need to beat yourself over them.”

Chuckling, you raised the mug to your lips, glancing in the living room. The apartment wasn’t the largest or the fanciest, but you were able to leave a piece of yourself in each room. Sunlight streamed through the bay window and through the dream-catcher you had hanging on the lock. Bailey, Kayla’s little teacup terrier, was taking advantage of said light and was napping on the couch.

“I’m guessing I should have sent them all to you?”

“Of course,” Kayla agreed, leaning back in the chair. “I would have kicked their asses and told them what type of scum they are.”

You reached over for your own munchkin, placing it on the saucer to break it in half. “Sorry, but I think you’ve missed your chance.”

“Dammit.”

Amused, you popped a piece into your mouth, enjoying the sweetness of the chocolate. Life had certainly taken the two of you in directions that neither of you expected, but you treasured these Saturdays. It was like nothing had changed and you were back in college, talking about the classmates that annoyed the crap out of you, pointing out the cute ones, and procrastinating on the assignments that needed to be done.

“So, are you going to tell me about him?” Kayla asked. “Last thing you said was that your neighbor was setting you up. Does he deserve the best friend approval?”

At the thought of Jimin, you were grinning into your coffee, coyly trying to avoid eye contact with her as she squealed. Her reaction was so strong that it woke Bailey up, causing her to bark a few times. Which was more adorable than it was intimidating like the dog probably thought.

Flipping your phone screen side up, you went to go find a picture of him for her. “He’s very, very sweet,” you said, handing the device over for her to scroll through. “And kind. He works at the animal shelter in town, loves to take Polaroid pictures, and he indulges in my coffee addiction.”

“I love him already.”

You grinned at that, taking a drink as she cooed and laughed at the various photos, and you began to tell her the story about how you met him.

As much as you hate to admit it, you had been apprehensive about your downstairs neighbor set you up with his friend for a blind date. It wasn’t that you were complete strangers with Taehyung - the guy was pretty chill and kept things interesting with constantly dying his hair - it had been more along the lines that you didn’t know much about him besides the conversations the you shared before going your separate ways.

According to your neighbor, your dating life – or non-existent one – hadn’t gone amiss on him either, and conveniently had a friend who was also in the single pool for quite some time, so he thought it would be nice to help you out. Actually no, he flat out told you he was setting the two of you up for a date. With only a moment’s hesitation were you able to say no dinner dates before he disappeared inside, tossing a thumb’s up over his shoulder for you and shut the door.

The next morning when you left for work, there was a sticky note on your door telling you to be at the 10th annual Flower Shower festival that Saturday for one. Jimin would be waiting at Paws for Days, the animal shelter.

The Flower Shower festival the town’s way of sharing their love of flowers and nature with everyone. Every shop that decided to participate in the event was assigned a different type of flower, and with that, they decorated their stores with it. They were then automatically entered into a contest to see who was the most creative with their assigned floral. First place was given a trophy stating that they were the winners of that year’s festival, and second and third were given ribbons and a plant of their choice.

What made it such a hit, was perhaps was the event that gave it its namesake. During the day, not only were there flowers decorated on the storefronts, but each company was able to hand out coupons for their flower that could be turned in at one of the many floral shops in the area. There were stalls for making and selling flower crowns, jewelry, perfumes, anything and everything imaginable that could incorporate flowers into a product filled the streets to be sold. Even food vendors went all out with all the stops.

Filling in any empty spaces were local artists, using any and all varieties of flowers to create sculptures, sometimes of small animals that a person could hold in their hands, to ones so large that it required ladders and multiple hands to help. Face and body painters had kids and adults of all ages waiting in line, eagerly handing over the few bucks to be decorated with flowers and various other decorative forms of flower power.

It was like the hippie movement met modern times for a day.

Perhaps the most beautiful of all the events, was the parade that happened at the end of the day. The festival couldn’t last all night since it would be hard to see the flowers, so the ending parade occurred at six. All the contest participants and winners walked along with the vendors and painters, each carrying baskets with flower petals or single flowers to throw out to the crowd, and while they held the attention of everyone, up on the rooftops of all the buildings were volunteers who waited for their to cue to toss buckets of petals on to the crowd below. It was as if the entire world was hitting pause on the bitterness of life, to enjoy a moment of beauty to take a shower, made out of flowers.

You never knew what it was about flowers that had the entire town obsessed with them, there were at least six shops dedicated to flowers and bouquets – one at least in particular focused mainly on gardening tools, sculptures, and fountains – within the downtown area.

Which made having your first date with Jimin at the Flower Shower festival all the more pleasing. It was more exciting and had plenty of things to do than going to another restaurant, but at the same time, a bit nerve wracking. Not only was it another first date, with a guy that you’ve never met in your life, hoping that your neighbor hadn’t set you up with some weirdo. This was the first date you were going on with the decision to not tell him about being diabetic.

Even though you weren’t going to bring it up, you still packed the cases into your purse, not wanting to risk needing it and not having them on you. After dressing in shorts and a loose flowery blouse with sandals, even doing your makeup lightly to match with the summer theme, you were ready to go out. Butterflies were fluttering in your stomach, but your hand had been shaking to the point that you had to set down the mascara brush or stab yourself in the eye with it.

This was your first chance at seeing if it really made such an impact on your love life, making it felt like you were stepping into the dating scene all over again. That was what made it terrifying. This simple date would tell you whether or not you weren’t able to hold a relationship because of your lifestyle, or if it was because of you.

If it was because of the needles, then that you could understand. Not everyone was fond of them, and dealing with having to give yourself shots four times a day can be annoying at times, but if it was because of you in general…well, that was the ultimate sucker punch to the gut.

Before you could let yourself get lost in the sink hole of self-doubt, you forced yourself to leave, locking the door without even thinking to double check that you had everything that you needed. Luckily, you did.

It was to your advantage that you lived downtown. Walking to the shops only took five, maybe ten minutes if you were feeling lazy and with the location of Paws for Days in mind, you headed down the street in its direction.

The sun was high in the sky, occasionally blinding you when you passed by the tall buildings and gaps in the trees, but you felt the heat of the sun on your arms, and saw the clear bright blue sky overhead. It all helped to take your mind off what Jimin was like. Hell, you didn’t even know what he looked like. All that Taehyung wrote was that he would be outside by the shelter’s sign.

Nearing the heart of town, you weren’t all that surprised to see that nearly everyone in town was walking the streets, making it almost impossible to tell them apart from the people who were working.

Paws for Days was a street down from being smack in the center of town, and resembled a large farmhouse with floor to ceiling windows on the front entrance, allowing everyone to look in and see the cats and occasional dog walking around the front of the store. They took in animals of every breed, and were also a no-kill shelter. During the warm months it was common to hear dogs barking in the larger fenced in area behind the building as the animals played and ran about, enjoying the time out in the sun.

As you neared the shelter, it was the sound of barking and kids laughing that made you smile. In their front lawn, staff had set up play pen areas for the smaller dogs to sit out on the grass and roll around. Parents with babies carefully held them as they leaned down, allowing their child to gently pet animals and laughing as their palms get licked. There were other areas for the larger dogs, but a large banner that was attached to the shelter’s roof stole your attention.

Paws for Days 10th Annual Adoption Day!

You hadn’t realized that in addition to it being the tenth anniversary of the Flower Shower festival, it was also an anniversary for the shelter as well. Staff was walking around with blue shirts with the name of the shelter written in black, a little black paw print serving as the period. Flower crowns made out of orange cream roses sat on everyone’s head, and as you looked around, a group of people around your age appeared to be constructing a giant sculpture of a…well, it had paws and the lower half of an animal body.

Maybe later you’d come back and see what it turned out to be.

Continuing towards the shelter, you tried to look for the sign, but with a swarm of people walking in your way so they could either play with the animals or actually go inside to adopt, it took a little longer to reach your destination.

When you finally broke through and stepped away to the side to catch a breather, you were able to see the shelter’s wooden sign. To no one’s surprise, there was a stone statue of a cat and dog sitting next to each other, with a bird on top of the dog’s head. It was adorable.

The man standing next to the sign however, was godly looking.

“No, fucking way,” you said, taking advantage of the fact that he was looking at his phone to stare at him.

The fact that his hair was dyed wasn’t shocking – you had partially expected that considering Taehyung was always dying his – but the mix of pink and orange hues suited Jimin so perfectly that it appeared natural on him. The sunlight glinted off of the silver chained earring he wore along with the silver rings on his fingers, all while standing out in a black t-shirt and jeans despite it being warm out. To top it all off, an orange cream rose flower crown that matched his hair color perfectly, was carefully placed on his head to resemble a halo, and he held on to a spare in his free hand.

Taehyung had completely, and utterly, forgotten to mention that his single friend, was insanely hot.

Maybe…maybe that’s not him, you thought, carefully wetting your lips as you walked over to him. Maybe this is some other guy, standing right where Taehyung had said, and was waiting for someone else.

He slipped his phone into his pocket before you were able to reach him and looked up, meeting to meet your gaze. The wire framed sunglasses he wore were tinted with pink lenses.

“Hi,” he said. His voice was soft and gentle, putting your nerves at ease as he smiled widely when you got closer. “You’re Taehyung’s neighbor, right?”

You shyly smiled, nodding as you supplied your name, which only helped to make the corner of Jimin’s eyes crinkle as he repeated your name. To you, your name was just that, a name. Nothing more and nothing less. But hearing he say it, it was like a pretty melody slipping out of his mouth.

Jimin held up the spare flower crown, pressing his lips together as he chuckled. “I hope you don’t mind, but I got you one. Is it okay if I…?”

“Of course,” you answered. It was sweet that he had gotten one for you, and as he stepped closer to put it on your head, you felt your cheeks warming up at how close he was. You were even able to catch a whiff of his cologne, just the faintest scent that wasn’t overwhelming like how some people tended to bathe in perfume.

“They’re roses,” Jimin explained, adjusting the crown so it sat on your head like his. “Orange roses. I had to ask for them specifically in case any of the animals tried eating them. Roses at least, are not as poisonous as a lot of other flowers.”

“They’re still toxic to them though, right?”

Jimin leaned back, quirking an eyebrow as his smile softened to grin. “Well, I don’t recommend eating them, for either animals or humans. They’ll probably make you sick...”

“He’s a smartass just like us,” Kayla interrupted, grinning as she handed you back your phone.

Laughing, you nodded in agreement. “Yeah, he can be. But he’s just, one of the sweetest guys I’ve met.” Double tapping your phone, the lock screen revealed itself to be a picture of Jimin. You had taken it one day when you went and visited him at the shelter. He had been holding one of the calico cats, even rubbing his nose against hers, and your heart melted at the sight. Now your heart melted every time you turned on your phone.

“And he really has no idea?”

The room fell silent then. Which wasn’t surprising considering that the two of you were introverts at heart, but together, you were loud and proud. Add in coffee and the entire world better watch out.

“Jimin’s seen me check my blood,” you slowly answered. The phone screen went black when you didn’t swipe it. “He saw the meter one day, so I explained that with my family history, that I have it as a way to monitor my blood.”

Usually, you had been so good about hiding your meter and needles when Jimin came around to your home. For some reason on that day, it had slipped your mind and the next thing you knew, Jimin was holding it up and asking about it.

You weren’t outright lying. The family history wasn’t that decent, and you did have to check your blood, so it was more of a partial truth. Maybe it was because he had seemed curious and interested in the item, but ever since that day, guilt had been gnawing away at your heart. You were still avoiding the truth, and if you wanted this relationship to work out, the only way it could would be if you told him.

Looking away from the coffee, you pressed your lips together upon seeing the way Kayla was gazing at you, her eyes softening as she opened and closed her mouth repeatedly. There were no words needed however. You knew that it wasn’t going to end well if you remained silent, but the lingering fear was still there.

What if it was too much for Jimin? What if after you told him, he decided that it wasn’t worth it? That you, weren’t worth it?

It was all just…terrifying.

“You know,” Kayla gently said, reaching out and reassuringly squeezed your hand. “If for some reason, it doesn’t work out…Bailey and I got a spare room for you to have.”

She had offered you the spare room more times than you could remember, especially after graduation, but you loved the town you grew up in. It was home and had everything you always wanted. But you squeezed her hand back tightly, looking up at her with a smile.

“I thought that was Bailey’s room?”

“Oh, it is. She’s fucking spoiled rotten. You’re the only human being I’d sacrifice my queen-sized bed for a bunk bed.”

Laughing, you shook your head as Kayla joined in. Even Bailey tried barking at the sudden noise.

You had to tell Jimin the truth. There was no if, ands, or buts about it. For right now, you were willing to pretend for a little bit longer, wanting to savor in his love before it all came crashing down.

You leaned over Jimin, stretching your hand out for the wine glass on the coffee table, his palm sliding down your back to your hip as you moved about. When you settled back against his side, the wine glass in hand, his chest shook as he chuckled when you tried to take a sip only to realize that you would have to sit up to get a decent drink.

“Oh shush,” you murmured, lightly swiping at his shoulder.

It only made Jimin giggle even more though, and a glance at his own wine glass that was sitting on the wooden floor by the couch revealed it to be empty. You were still on your first, knowing full well that there was a chance that a glass of your beloved Witching Hour Red Blend wine might spike your blood sugar, but Jimin had finished his first one within a half hour after arriving for dinner.

Not that you were going to judge. It was Friday night, neither of you had work tomorrow, and it was so damn good. There was no harm in letting loose and indulging in the fun adult drinks.

His keys were on the coffee table next to the black wine bottle along with his phone, and you must have eyed them for longer than you thought because next thing you knew, his hand was trailing up your back as he pushed himself up, capturing your attention.

“Sleepover?” Jimin said, locks of his pink hair falling into his gaze.

Smiling, you hummed in agreement, partially relieved that he wouldn’t go out driving, and partially thriving at the idea of waking up next to him tomorrow morning.

“Good, that means I can do this then…”

You frowned at first, suddenly gasping as the glass clinked against the rings on his fingers when he took your glass and raised it to his lips, successfully drinking about half of it in one gulp.

“You have your own glass,” you whined, pouting at the small amount he had left for you.

Jimin only grinned, setting the glass down on the table before pulling you close until he was able to claim you for a kiss. His lips tasted rich like cherries, and whether it was the wine talking or not, but he felt more intoxicating than anything you’ve ever had.

He swiped his tongue against your bottom lip before slipping in, his arms wrapping around your waist as the kiss grew in intensity, your hands unashamedly going under his t-shirt to roam up his body. Before you were able to crawl on top of him, he broke the kiss.

“No offense,” Jimin said, kissing your forehead to make up for suddenly stopping. “But your couch sucks to have sex on.”

That put a halt to where you mind had been going, recalling the one time the two of you ended up fucking on the couch. It had been rushed and both of you were too horny to even think about going to the bedroom.

“Yeah,” you agreed, giggling as you stood, taking the bottle and slipping your own glass between your fingers. With a coy smile, you walked backwards to your bedroom. “Good thing I have a fucking awesome bed though.”

His laughter filled the room as he swiped up his own glass, hurrying after you, and not just because you were holding the rest of wine hostage with the promise of sex, but because you were the one sweetly carrying his heart.

Blinking your eyes open, you frowned as you stared up at the ceiling, cold sweat making your hair stick to your forehead, the sheets wet underneath your back. You glanced to your side, the bright red numbers of the clock reading 3:00 A.M in the dark room, and on your right, Jimin’s soft snores reassured you that he was still asleep.

So why were you wide awake?

With careful movements, you moved so you were sitting on the edge of the bed, ignoring how the air hit your wet back. It was as if someone had turned up the heat despite it being summer. Everything was pointing towards a bad dream, it wouldn’t have been the first time that you woke up from a nightmare, unable to recall it but be drenched in sweat. It was with that mindset that you leaned down to pick up Jimin’s shirt, slipping it on to go to the bathroom, but the moment you stood on your own feet, the world slanted.

You barely caught yourself against the wall as you stumbled forward, feeling lost in a haze as you kept walking until you felt the sharp coldness of wooden floors on the bottom of your feet. The faint glow of the orange nightlight in a socket was blurry, acting as a guide as you stumbled around, trying to reach the kitchen table.

The meter. You needed your meter.

Head heavy, your heart raced in your chest when you suddenly felt the floor underneath you. A sharp pain slicing through your hip and a harsh whack had your leg aching, but it cleared away the haze, allowing you to think as you leaned against what you felt to be the couch.

Your eyes had adjusted to the darkness but you didn’t dare risk standing, but you couldn’t just sit there. There was nothing within your reach for you to grab and make noise. The last time something like this had happened was back in high school, and that had been when you ended up in the hospital. Whimpering, your body felt heavy as you tried to move, the soft pap sound of footsteps echoing in the short hallway barely catching your attention.

“Baby? I heard a thud, you okay?”

The light suddenly came on, burning your eyes as you tried to move, but like when you had first stood up, your head felt twenty pounds heavier, forcing you to lean back against the couch.

“What the fuck? Baby?!”

Jimin’s feet slammed against the floor as he hurried to sit in front of you, eyes wide awake as he cupped your cheek and wrapped an arm around your waist to bring you to rest against his chest. His fingers were blissfully cold compared to your heated skin, and for several moments, all you could focus on was his touch, unable to hear him call out your name several times.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you shakily inhaled as you tried to focus and ignore the way the world seemed to suddenly tilt again. “My meter,” you said, your voice hoarse. “I need to check my blood. Something…something’s wrong.”

Vaguely you pointed towards the kitchen table, but luckily, Jimin had seen you place the meter there on multiple occasions. After leaning you against the couch again, he hurried to the table, pushing random notebooks and mail out of the way to find the purple bag. With a tug at the zipper, it revealed the meter and pen you needed.

“Hey baby, stay awake, please.” Jimin said, gently touching the side of your face, still holding on to the bag and its contents. Despite having watched you use them; he didn’t understand how to work the machine.

Maneuvering his way behind you once again, his legs were on either side of you as he pulled you to his chest. The shirt you wore was damp and he tried to move your hair off your neck and forehead.

It took a few moments, hands fumbling as you put a test strip into the meter and using the pen to prick your finger, the blood pooling up without even having to squeeze the area. The screen beeped as it calculated the glucose level, beeping again with a final result.

“It says fifty,” Jimin read aloud. “Is that…is that not good?”

“No,” you said, eyes wide as you stared at the meter, knowing that it would get worse if it got any lower. “It’s too low, I need…sugar. Orange juice, ice cream, something.”

Lifting your hand up to the arm of the chair, you tried to pull yourself up to get something, but Jimin’s heart raced at the prospect of you trying to walk around in this state, so he held you tighter to keep you on the ground and stood up himself.

“I’ll get it,” he said. He didn’t even give you a chance to argue. Instead he hurried to get the food you had mentioned, already figuring that you needed stuff that either had natural sugars, or were found in the junk food.

His arms were full with food and dishes when he came back, not knowing what exactly you wanted or would be best for this situation. Even though he wanted to help out, wanted to make this easier and go away, he had no idea what to do. Never in his life had he come across a situation that was like this. All he knew was that from the way you were moving so slow and how there was little to no color to your skin, this wasn’t normal.

This wasn’t how you wanted to tell Jimin. Out of every scenario that you’ve mulled over, this wasn’t even in the top twenty. To find you in a state like this so soon in the relationship must be a scene out of a nightmare for him.

Seeing the Ben and Jerry’s ice cream he had gotten out, you reached over and grabbed it along with the spoon. The treat was rarely touched since it was stashed away for special occasions that you treated yourself to, but this time you took a spoonful of the Half Baked delight, wishing that this was a chance where you could relax and enjoy it.

While you were eating that spoonful, Jimin quietly removed himself from you. He didn’t speak as he went into the bathroom, the water running loudly in the otherwise silent house before it was turned off just as quickly, and returned to his place behind you. It was without a word that he gently gathered your hair, bringing it into the messy bun that you always threw it up in when the two of you decided on having a lazy day. The task at hand was almost all but forgotten when the cold cloth was set on the back of your neck.

The gesture itself had your eyes stinging, the reality of everything suddenly crashing around you and how this could have gone if Jimin wasn’t here. The shirt was originally Jimin’s and while his clothes usually hung on you, had been clinging to your skin and making it impossible for you to forget about. It hadn’t been the biggest concern you had at the moment, which forced you to put it to the back of your mind for the time being.

A stray whimper escaped your lips, capturing Jimin’s attention as you set the ice cream container down to cover your face with your hands, silencing the cries and trying to hide from him. He wasn’t running away or staring at you like something was wrong, nor was he accusing you of lying and deceiving him. Instead, he simply rested his chin on your shoulder, leaving soft kisses on your neck and cheeks.

“Don’t cry baby,” Jimin murmured, tilting his head to add a kiss to your shaking shoulders. “We’ll discuss this later. Right now, let’s get your blood sugar where it needs to be.”

As reassuring as that was, it only made you cry harder, the tears slipping through your fingers and dripping on to your thighs. He was right. You needed to focus on your blood sugar, but his soft whispers and the way his hands gently rubbed and squeezed your legs meant so much more.

For the first time in so long, a guy wasn’t disgusted by you. Instead he was here, doing the things that he could to help, and he was loving you.

When you finally felt like you could keep going, you sniffed and lifted your head, the lightest of touches caressing your cheek had your heart thumping. Again, you checked your blood. It went up ten points, but you sighed, and scooped out another spoonful of the ice cream in an attempt to raise it. It would probably be sky high by the time morning arrived, but it wasn’t going up fast enough at the moment.

Over the course of an hour, you sat on the floor in-between Jimin’s legs, checking your blood every ten minutes to see if it had gone up, and alternating between spoonsful of ice cream, cups of orange juice and peanut butter crackers, a combination that had your nose scrunching up every time.

Jimin stayed the entire time, only getting up to put away some of the food that you weren’t eating. Even after that he retook his spot and held you just tight enough to remind you that he wasn’t letting you go.

By the time it finally reached one hundred, you pushed the container of ice cream away from you and leaned back into Jimin’s embrace. It was still low. No longer did you feel out of control of your body, the sweat had dried to your skin and if you were to stand, you were certain that there wouldn’t be any more stumbling on your part. Although you doubted that Jimin would let you out of his sight for the next few days.

Neither of you spoke right away.

Wide awake in the dead of night, apparently not seeing any other option, Jimin reached out for the ice cream and took a spoonful for himself. The gesture itself was so simple, so ordinary, as if the two of you always woke up at the hour dedicated to artists who found solace under the stars and moon, to share a pint of ice cream on the living room floor, that you giggled.

Raising an eyebrow, the corner of Jimin’s mouth curled upwards at the sound of your laugh. He hadn’t realized that this scare would make him miss such a pretty sound so much. Licking the rest of the spoon clean as he maintained eye contact with you, he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively to make you laugh once more.

As much as you would rather spend the rest of the time making each other laugh and eating to your heart’s desire, you knew that he was owed an explanation to everything that’s happened.

“I was diagnosed in high school,” you said. Your gaze fell from his face to the floor, only then noticing that Jimin didn’t have any pants on. He had come rushing out in only his boxers and stayed in them this entire time. “I’m a type two diabetic, which means that my body produces the insulin that it needs, but for some reason my body doesn’t process it and rejects it.”

Jimin patiently listened to your explanation. As you spoke, the invisible weight that had settled on your shoulders when you decided to hide this part of your life was being chipped away at, piece by piece until it felt like you were free. The nerves didn’t fly away, instead they settled nicely in your stomach for the time being, not making themselves known until you closed your mouth, waiting for his reaction.

He took a deep breath, moving his hand to run it through his hair. “Does this happen a lot? Your levels dropping like this?”

“No. This…” you set a hand on his thigh, shaking your head. “I don’t know what happened. I took my shot before dinner, and then I took my night one.”

“Baby, I never saw you take any shot.”

Pressing your lips together, you closed your eyes, the butterflies having found the perfect moment to take flight right then and there. This was it, the moment you had been dreading this entire time. “I… I had my bag with my insulin pens and needles hiding in the bathroom.” You admitted.

His eyes scanned over you, making a mental note that you wouldn’t look at him and how your kept on rubbing your arm. Suddenly it made sense why you were always sneaking off to the restroom anytime the two of you went out to eat, and how you’d tap your nails and watch for the waiter when it took longer than you expected for the food to come out. “How long have you been hiding this?”

“Since we started dating.”

Jimin’s arms tightened around your waist, the reassuring weight of his head on your shoulder was now gone, and in that split second, your heart stopped. He was moving away, he didn’t want this, he didn’t want to be with you anymore, he—

Suddenly you were no longer staring at the floor in front of you, but Jimin’s bare chest until his fingers lifted your chin, forcing you to look him straight on. His dark brown eyes that usually disappeared when he was smiling and laughing, appeared to be drowning in the tears that slid down his cheeks.

“Why…why wouldn’t you tell me?” He asked, his voice light and cracking with every word while his bottom lip trembled. “What if I wasn’t here? You…you could have been on the floor until morning. And if this is how you get when it’s this low, it would have been worse if you waited to get help, or until someone found you.”

His hands were roaming around your back as he spoke, unable to settle down, like he had to constantly reassure himself that you were conscious and talking to him. It was only when he shook his head, a soft coo leaving his lips as he cupped your cheeks to run his fingers underneath your eyes, that you realized that you were crying too.

Leaning down, he pressed his forehead against yours, trying to wrap his mind around the fact that you had hid this from him. All he could think about was you being alone when this happened. It tore at him the possibility of you ending up in the hospital, or worse, you laying on the ground until you either made your way to a phone, or someone stumbling upon you on accident.

It plagued his heart, making it ache as he tilted his head to gently kiss your forehead. “Baby, why didn’t you tell me?”

It was such a simple reason for why you didn’t, but one that was without a doubt, rooted in your own selfish desire to protect yourself. Most importantly, to protect your heart from having to deal with constantly being let down by the men you let into your life. The idea had sprung out of fear and doubt, but every day that you spent with Jimin was enough to set those thoughts aside.

All the silly dates. The terrifying night where he let you help him dye his hair, the way his fingers traced your body with paths he long since memorized, and an afternoon where the two of you stayed inside while rain pattered against the windows when he suddenly said I love you, were enough to make you realize that Jimin wasn’t going run away.

Your eyes stung and tears slipped faster down your cheeks as you moved to press your forehead against his chest, his arms hugging your tightly. There was nothing for you to grip on to except his body, but you held on to him anyway.

Sensing that this ran deeper than you were ready to admit, Jimin gently kissed your cheek, resting his head against yours as he held you, softly stroking your back. His own back was sore from being hunched over for the last hour or so, and sitting on the floor was starting to leave an ache in his ass, but he was going to stay right there. As long as you needed him, he was going to be there, wherever and whenever you wanted him.

“It’s okay baby,” he said once your tears slowed down in volume. “We’re in this together, I promise.”

Those words had you wanting to cry all over again. For the first time in so long, someone wanted to stay with you, to help you, to love you for you, and that included the fact that you needed to constantly check your blood sugar and take insulin with your meals, and an additional one before bed. It was terrifying, a first, but so freeing at the same time.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, shakily kissing his chest in an attempt to fix some of the damage your secret has done. “I’m so sorry Jimin.”

He didn’t speak. Instead, he kissed your cheek again, his arms tightening just the slightest. Condensation from the ice cream was pooling on the floor and the mini candy bars that he had found were scattered about. Your meter was right beside him. Outside, the birds that had made their homes in the trees near your apartment were singing their sweet lungs out, a noise that usually made both of you want to bury your faces in the pillows. This time, it had Jimin looking towards the bay window and the sheer yellow curtains.

It was still dark out, but within an hour, the night sky would give birth to morning.

Glancing down, he saw that your legs were already wrapped around his waist. With no other reason not to, Jimin carefully stood up, using one arm to pull himself up by the couch and the other keeping a hold on you. He ignored the yelps and questions that left your mouth.

Instead, he settled down on the bay window and stretched his legs out in front of him, only loosening his grip on you when he was certain you wouldn’t slip and fall on the ground.

“What are you doing?” You said, cautiously letting go of Jimin to straighten up. It wasn’t the first time that he ever picked you up without warning, in fact, his habit of doing so was close to becoming normal. That didn’t mean you wouldn’t like a warning in advance occasionally.

He leaned backwards against the window pane, drawing his right leg up until he was able to prop his arm on his knee as he smiled at you. “Have you ever seen the sun rise?”

The question was so random, so opposite of everything that had been happening for the last hour and yet, your mind honed in on it and took advantage of the its simplicity. Shaking your head, Jimin’s smile grew as he tapped his thigh. His own way to gesture for you to turn and rest against his chest that you had learned early on in the relationship.

“The ice cream’s going to melt.”

You turned around however, once again leaning backwards against Jimin’s chest as his free arm encircled your body, pulling you firming in place.

“We’ll take care of that later. We’ll take care of everything later, I promise. Right now, I just want to watch the sun rise, with you.”

“You’re not mad at me?” You suddenly asked, staring at the early morning sky.

The other apartments and houses in the neighborhood were nothing more but shadows for the time being, and you weren’t entirely sure if the living room was facing the east or not. You didn’t tell him that though.

“No baby,” Jimin softly said, staring at the sky as well. “I’m a bit disappointed, and honestly, I’m still a little scared about what happened. But I’m not mad at you.”

Feeling his chest lift with a deep breath, you relaxed in his embrace. This wasn’t the end of the conversation. He deserved a real explanation for why you never told him, and he would get it this time.

As you shifted slightly, Jimin adjusted his arm with your movements, a soft chuckle escaping when you played with some of the silver rings that he had forgotten to take off before going to sleep.

“I love you.”

Your fingers paused, watching his fingers move and lace themselves with yours, calming your heart so it was no longer racing. Any butterflies that had been hanging around in-case there was a to be a second round of sudden doubt finally settled down, allowing you to enjoy this moment with Jimin. Instead of fear, a blanket of content draped itself on top of you.

“I love you too,” you said, bringing his hand up to your lips to kiss.

Somewhere out there, a bird was returning the melody of another song under the moonlight, and running on only a few hours of sleep wasn’t ideal. While it wasn’t the night that you planned or expected to have, as you waited for the sun to rise, Jimin occasionally running his thumb over your knuckles, there wasn’t anywhere else you wanted to be.

It wasn’t planned, nor was the leading up to it ideal, but it was pretty damn perfect.

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aboredchica · 3 years ago

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I need to rant about my uncle. He was sick tge day my mother (may she rest in peace) got admitted into the hospital and to his thousands of twitter audience and his private audience he's playing it off as if he got sick when he heard that she got admitted. And when he got better he thanked his followers for their prayers and well wishes while writing an essay on how her sickness and then death caused him to get even more sick and got him admitted into the hospital. Bitch you had a virus which made you vomit everything you eat and you got admitted because of your diabetes and dehydration!

And now because the rest of my aunts and uncles gave up their inheritance from my mother stating that they didn't want to take anything from her daughters, my aunt told us that he was mad at them for doing that because now he's forced to do it to keep face. And he kept asking about our houses. One of which my parents had the foresight to give it to us legally 10 years ago, and the other is a registered charity.

Long story short, he would have made us sell the house or at least have us buy his share of the house if my aunts and uncles didn't give up their inheritance. So his charade to the public is nothing but a play because he never cared enough about her even though she gave him almost everything he has today.

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 5 years ago

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Humans Are Space Orcs, “ER”

Short story for Krill this morning. Hope you guys enjoy.

Dr. Krill was back on Earth. He had no idea why he always seemed to end up in this insane hellscape, but here he was…. again. only the other day he had been caught out in an electrical storm while trying to commute his way to work, which he hadn’t particularly appreciated, especially not when massive balls of frozen ice came pelting from the sky with enough power to tear open skin.

Even the humans had been running for cover, and that was saying something.

He would very much have preferred a job where he wasn’t in constant danger of getting murdered by the elements on a regular basis.

But this was earth, one day he could be enjoying the sun, the next he was risking heat death, the next he was almost blown away by the wind, and the day after that he was almost whisked away by minor flooding.

Of course, it was either walking to work or taking public transit which was probably even more dangerous considering that it had humans on board. Humans who were half asleep, humans who were strung out on drugs, humans with children, humans with dangerous pets. Then of course there were the more than mildly xenophobic humans, who were, somehow, under the impression that Krill was there to still earthling jobs, which was not the case at all considering that he had volunteered him time for free.

Krill had no need of monetary compensation, to him, the work was the reward.

He leaned something new every day.

And now, with his current stint working in a human hospital, he was becoming even more acquainted with humanity… not entirely sure if that was in a good way or not.

OF course, Krill more than missed the simple life aboard the harbinger where most humans were relatively educated and competent, where most stupid injuries came about by overly idiotic actions rather than ignorance -- a point could be argued to which one of those things was worse, but, for the moment, Krill was under the impression that willful idiocy was still better than ignorance because at least they knew why they were stupid, and generally openly admitted it to krill whereas working with the general populace forced him to have to be patient and understanding towards people who just didn’t know any better.

Apparently telling people they are stupid to their faces is seen as off-color in the human medical world even though that is probably exactly what some of the people needed to hear.

Again, he found himself wishing for the harbinger, and for the return of the captain – the biggest idiot of them all.

He idly wondered how he was doing on his little trip across the universe.

He wondered how Sunny was doing exploring the human world on her own two feet/

He wished he knew when they would be back together.

The UNSC had given them extended shore leave, but they had never specified how long it was going to be seeming to hint that it was contingent on how the captain felt. Well Krill was under the impression the captain needed to get his ass back here so krill would stop having to pull things out of people’s butts.

Speaking of pulling things out of people’s butts’ he was on ER rotation today. He found that the ER could be the most interesting, or the most infuriating part of a hospital. Just the other day he had led the surgical team that reattached someone’s arm, but then the day before that he had been in the ER to inform a woman that yes your shortness of breath likely comes from the run you just went on after years of never having exercised.

He took his clipboard and walked into the human waiting room.

He could write a paper on what sort of things it was important for a medical professional to keep in mind when treating humans. But here was an example of his typical day.

· Isn’t this the second time I have seen little Jimmy in here for sticking something up his nose? I understand that he really loves playing with those toys, but you have to understand there is a reason the label says five and up. Yes, it would probably be best if you did not allow him around things he could get stuck in his face.

· Your pregnant. Yes of course I am sure. I can do a blood test if you like. I know you said you are not sexually active, but I have looked at this blood test twice and a stick test twice and it says you are pregnant. Well what do you consider sexually active…. mmhmmm…. Mmmhmmm…. well I think it is probably my job to inform you that it is still sex even if the woman is on top.

· You just…. fell on it huh? So, you were doing household chores…. Naked…. And you just so happened to slip and as you were slipping this item was magically vacuumed up into your colon. Mmmmm hmmm, quick question where was this potato located for you to have fallen on it like that? Well no sir, I am afraid that we probably won’t be able to get it out manually you are going to need a gastrointestinal specialist for that.

· Yes sir, your chest pain probably has something to do with all the cocaine you have been snorting. Cocaine tends to do that to people.

· Ok you are a diabetic trying to control your blood sugar. Ok, I am glad to hear that you have worked on toning down your sugar consumption, that’s good, but I am still very concerned about your sugar levels. This is far to high and I am extremely concerned. Let’s go through your diet and see what you have been eating. Have you cut back on soft drinks? Yes, and now you drink a lot of fruit juice…. ahh… I see. Well ma’am fruit juice just so happens to contain a lot of sugar which might be why your blood sugar is so high. Might I suggest drinking some water.

· Ah finally, a real emergency. Yes, your grandmother’s breathing problems worry me greatly. Let’s get her back in to do an EKG, make sure nothing is gong on with her heart. I am glad you brought her in when you did.

· Yes, little Susie is going to be fine. I am glad she knew how to use her epi-pen, excellent work Susie.

· No, I don’t care that you have been waiting four hours to se the doctor. Your child has a mild stomach ache, their child is having intermittent seizures. No, I will not be calling the medical director in to see you about this.

· Well that’s probably why it hurts so much. The condom is not supposed to cover the balls too.

· No matter how much you deny your use of opiates, when you came in here you weren’t breathing and when I gave you Narcan you started breathing again, so I know where my vote is. Please try not to deny these things to your medical professional next time. It is not my job to call the cops. No, I am not going to rat you out. Yes, you could die if you don’t tell me about past drug use no matter what it is.

· You got a WHAT in your WHERE. Why would you stick a toothpick in there? No sir generally most people are not ailed with an itchy urethra, in fact I am pretty sure that is not a thing. Look, I am not judging you sir, but please stop sticking pointy things up into places where they do not belong because you could cause permanent damage.

· Ouch… now remind me again why you were trying o ride your skateboard down the stairs. And you openly admit that you are not good at skating…. Because you saw a video. I am very glad you know it was a dumb idea because at least I don’t have to say it.

· Ma’am this says analgesic not anal-gesic, the pills are taken orally not as a suppository.

· You have been bleeding once a month for ten years and you are just now coming in about that? I am sorry, but how old are you again. Yes, ma’am this is very normal, here let me get you a pamphlet to read, and if you have any questions feel free to ask one of the nurses.

· So you don’t have any medical history. Well are you taking any medications. That sure is a lot of medications for someone who does not have any medical history. This one looks like it is for high blood pressure. Sir just because the medication is helping you manage your high blood pressure does not meant that your high blood pressure is cured.

· When I say clear liquids that does not include vodka

· I know vodka does have alcohol in it, but pouring it on your open soar sure did not help anything, and now you are probably going to need a plastic surgeon to fix this.

· No ma’am you have to put ear drops in both ears. No, the ears are not connected. Yes, your eardrums and you know… your brain are kind of in the way. No there is not a tube that just goes straight through.

· Please stop licking your wound.

· Um no, those bumps on your tongue are not cancer…. They are taste buds.

· Yes, that it a uvula…. Yes, it is supposed to be there.

· What made you think sticking ice cubes up your anus would help with your fever. Well it will not and now you have frost bite in your rectum.

· So it was the smell that got you to come in and not the…. Maggots?

Krill groaned in relief as he went to clock out.

‘Tough day?” Someone asked

“I think something needs to be done about medical education on your planet.”

The human laughs, “We have been trying for more than two thousand years. Good lucky making it any better than it already is.”

Please, Adam finish your journey of self-discovery soon because if I have to explain how to use a condom one more time, I might just loose it.

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i-bounced-byeeee · 3 years ago

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Don't mind me just trying to process and assess my mood lately. I've been in a rut and I'm not entirely sure what kind of rut it is. I don't really feel depressed but I also know I'm not okay mental health wise. I'm just having a hard time pinpointing what exactly it is.

So in gonna ramble. Long post incoming and no read more because I'm on mobile.

January, 2021 I found out my Cat, Sparta had Diabetes. I was trying to do everything I could to get his insulin for him so he'd be a healthy happy kitty. My sister had to help with this and it's thanks to her we were able to get him started. I also fell down the stairs a week after all this and then a week after that I suffered a stroke but didn't know it.

I had been out that day and when I came home I took something for a headache and laid down to nap, and when I woke up the back of my neck and all down my leftside was tingling like it had fallen asleep and wouldn't wake up. After a few hours of this I went to the nearest hospital where they did a CT, some blood work, and a urinalysis. They didn't see anything unusual ams since I wasn't displaying any otherbsymptoms of a stroke they just gave me a baby aspirin and sent me home with a referral to an outpatient MRI and said if it got worse to come back.

It did. I went back and the doctor that saw me confirmed I had tingling in my left side, said it might have been because of my fall down the stairs a week prior, and to take a Valium with motrin and Tylenol. Then he sent me home. I made an appointment with a neurologist who was extremely worried because of my gait, I could barely walk and I was a fall risk. He had me admitted to the hospital, they did a bunch of blood work, an MRI, and a spinal tap. They discovered I had a stroke in My right cerebellum and I had 3 or 4 lesions on my spinal chord and we aren't sure if they're related to the stroke or not.

Now I've gained sensation in my left side since then but it still does t feel quote right and my right side is super sensitive and sometimes feel like I've got a cat constantly scratching me, usually on my thigh and right side of my waist.

In February I started occupational and physical therapy, I also celebrated Lucian's 5th birthday. I spent most of my time in bed playing resident Evil games and watching TV shows.

In March, my cat started to go down hill ad showed signs of ketoacidosis so my mom took him to the vet. They did some tests because his numbers weren't as high as they should be for that and learned he had pancreatitus, and started treating him for that, however he began to get worse and needed hospitalization, which would have cost us $6000 which we didn't have and hisboutlook over the weekend was very verybgrim.. my cat died March 27th. I had him for 12 years and I don't think I've fully even processed he's gone. Everything feels... weird. Surreal almost.

In April my mom found a cat up for adoption and we went to meet him, I liked him and so we paid a rehoming fee and brought him home, I named him Zagreus! He kind of helped ease the pain a little. I also started looking for a dog because I wanted a dog for my son yo play with. The search was hard and we couldn't find a dog that was a good fit for us. Either the dogs we'd find weren't good with kids, cats, or they were too rowdy or too old. I looked for a dog from sometime in April until June when I decided maybe another cat would be better, none of the cats we had currently would play with Zagreus so wanted to get him a friend.

I adopted Purrsephone the first week of June. She settled in really well! And she is doing great. I also had started really gardening after Sparta Died so on top of the kitty care I am also gardening and working outside. I also work for my moms pet sitting business when I can so I can earn some extra money.

In July I went to visit my dad in California. I wasn't feeling well that whole day we spent traveling and puked when we got there. We didn't get to go camping because there were fires everywhere, but I still enjoyed my visit it was hard at first because of my anxiety but it eventually calmed down.

I came back last week, I'm not sure how I feel about my upcoming birthday because even though I want to do stuff and have fun, I also don't have the money to do much at all, and I don't really have any friends to invite over. I'll also be losing my dad's insurance coverage on my birthday so I need to start the process of getting on the state insurance.

I've had some pretty severe baby fever, I've also been wanting to get my own place, to get stuff for my own space, stuff for my garden, stuff for grooming, stuff for Lucian to get him prepared for kindergarten this year. I've been designing adopts which haven't sold yet, and I've been trying to draw but I'm having a hard time because I feel like my art falls flat.

I've been wanting to do everything but don't have the motivation to do all the things I want to do, I've also been incredibly fatigued and my right side has been in some pain thanks to possible nerve damage. I've been trying to roll with the punches and things see. Pretty alright currently but there's a part of my brain that's struggling with something and idk what so I can work on it.

#cryptid mumbling #venting #long post #its personal

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fightagainstcovid · 4 years ago

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Fight Against Covid

Before we talk about Fight Against Flu it is important to understand communicable and non-communicable diseases (NCD - also referred to as chronic disease). Communicable diseases are those that are caused by germs and they spread from one person to another. Non-communicable diseases on the other hand do not spread from one person to another, they last longer and progress slowly. Most common NCD are Heart Disease, Diabetes, Respiratory disorders like Asthma and COPD, Cancer, Arthritis, GI disorders etc. Challenges of managing communicable vs. non communicable diseases are vastly different and they are managed through different strategies. The strategies used to fight communicable disease are – develop immunity against the pathogen using a vaccine, breaking the chain of infection, treat the infected person using approved therapies.

It has been observed that the immune responses to the virus develop severe patches in the lungs. Hence, in order to manage these patches, the standard treatment followed at present is use of anticoagulants. If that does not work, then start with steroids on day 5 – 6 after the onset of Covid.

Before I go further into the reasons for lung infection and its subsequent treatment, I would like to share my own story. I have suffered from GERD for a very long time. GERD is accompanied by comorbid conditions like Asthma, and/or COPD. My lungs became very weak with severe phlegm and cough all the time. Additionally, I used to get fever every three months. Whether this was some bacterial infection or viral/flu is difficult for me to say because I had all symptoms viral fever but my doctors always prescribed antibiotics and I got better with that. Meanwhile, I started experiments with Yoga and diet management to deal with my GERD and lungs related problems. During this time I realized that my symptoms, particularly coughing, would aggravate whenever I had intestinal spasms. Over the next few years I focused on this aspect which I am going to explain now.

In my view intestinal spasms have an important role to play in most lungs related problems. And if we can manage intestinal spasms we can reduce the impact on lungs.

Let me introduce one more topic here – the Bristol Stool Scale.

The Bristol stool scale is a diagnostic medical tool designed to classify the form of human faeces into seven categories. It was developed at the Bristol Royal Infirmary as a clinical assessment tool in 1997. The scale is defined as follows.

Type 1: Separate hard lumps, like nuts (difficult to pass and can be black)

Type 2: Sausage-shaped, but lumpy

Type 3: Sausage shaped with cracks (can be black)

Type 4: Sausage shaped, smooth and soft (average stool)

Type 5: Soft blobs with clear cut edges

Type 6: Fluffy pieces with ragged edges, a mushy stool (diarrhoea)

Type 7: Watery, no solid pieces, entirely liquid (diarrhoea)

Type 1 and 2 indicate constipation,

Type 3 and 4 ideal stool condition

Type 5 indicating lack of dietary fiber

Type 6 and 7 indicate diarrhoea

What I observed is that intestinal spasms have a strong correlation to the Bristol stool scale and that if we can maintain a patient, suffering from lung infection, at the type 3 and 4 on the BSS it would ease out their symptoms including fever. Following chart explains the relationship between BSS and fever.

In case of COVID 19 or any viral infection if a person is kept on a diet that would help a patient’s stool formation to be at Type 3 or 4 then time to recovery would be faster and require less hospital resources.

I recommend a high fruit diet which will help in bringing the fever back to normal with 24 – 36 hours. Once fever is under control Covid infection will go away in 1 to 2 week time.

Here are some key features of the high fruit diet:

Start the day with a fruit. No coffee/tea etc.

Give a gap between fruit and breakfast

Give atleast 4 hour gap between breakfast and lunch. During this time, have only fruits. No snacks/tea/coffee etc.

Follow each meal with a fruit within 20 – 30 min

Again give a 4 hour gap between lunch and dinner

Finish dinner before 6 PM

End the day with a fruit or salad after dinner

I am sharing my personal encounter with Covid 19. So far I have been able to help 8 patients recover from Covid – 6 in first wave and 2 in second wave.

My In-laws

In August 2020, my in-laws tested positive for Covid 19. Both in their mid 70s, one of them being a cancer patient too, were quite scared of getting admitted to the hospital. Both had been running fever for past few days and were feeling weak. However, their condition was not serious. So, we opted for home isolation and I decided to stay with them. From the start of the pandemic I have felt that high fruit diet is a best solution to cure a Covid 19 infection. I put them on high fruit diet which brought their fever down within 24 hours. They did not develop fever after that and fully recovered in 5 days. I, having stayed in close contact with them, throughout this period, have not had any infection either.

My Wife and Daughter

In November 7, 2020 my wife also got Covid infection. She tested with CT value of 16. A day later my daughter also complained of severe headache and high fever. Both got isolated at home in one room. Again, we treated them with high fruit diet treatment. Both recovered from fever and headache in 36 hours. We got second RTPCR test done after 14 days. My wife still tested positive even though she had fully recovered and had no symptoms. Best part of this plan is that it does not leave the person with weakness or any after-effects.

My Neighbor

In Feb 2021 my neighbor knocked on my door. She said that her daughter in-law who lives in Dubai has tested positive for Covid. She was running fever of about 100 C for three days and on the fourth day her fever shot up to 102 C. My neighbor wanted to know how did we manage Covid when my wife had it. I asked her to share the contact of her daughter in-law and I will discuss with her. Again, I suggested her the same high fruit diet and within 24 hrs her fever had come to normal. She still had diarrhea for another day but she fully recovered in 3 days.

My Friend post Covid

A friend of mine suffered from Covid and got admitted to the hospital. I got to know of his condition after 7-8 days of his treatment at the hospital. He had mostly recovered by then but he was feeling very week. I suggested him the same high fruit diet. His doctors did not allow him fruits while his stay in the hospital. However, after his discharge he followed my diet plan. He said that he greatly benefited following the diet plan and returned to normal life very quickly.

A friend observed Covid symptoms. He contacted me and started following the diet plan as I recommended. It took a week for him to fully recover. He did not get into any complications except fever for 4 days. This was in the second wave of the Covid

A neighbor tested positive for covid he recovered within one day by taking high fruit diet for his dinner.

Munish Aggarwal

About the Author

I have been leading IT solutions for Healthcare for about 25 years. During this time I have managed multiple different type of projects including clinical trials for pharmaceutical drugs, Healthcare analytics to support population health and wellness. I have also done a certification in Population Health Nutrition from Indian Institute of Population Health.

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buckysrighthanddoll · 5 years ago

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Baby Girl

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Enhanced!Reader

Warnings: Angst, mentions of past trauma and illnesses, infertility, fluff

(Y/N) loved Steve with everything she had. He put the moon and stars in the sky, and she was mesmerized. There was no end to what she would do for him, and the same rang true in reverse. Steve worshipped her like the goddess that she was. Aphrodite had nothing on her beauty, Athena couldn’t match her ferocity in battle, Artemis couldn’t shoot her bow straighter than she could. (Y/N) was perfection in Steve’s eyes, despite any faults that she obsessed over.

They were a great couple. Not territorial or jealous, hardly ever fought, always communicated, the works. The entire team, as well as she and him, were all certain that they would be together forever. They would eventually marry, retire their superhero positions, get a house, have a couple of kids, get a 401-K, and retire and live a long life. They were the definition of the apple-pie-life that many members of the team fantasized about having.

Steve most certainly wanted to marry and start a family with her. She was his everything, after all, and he wanted to have everything with his everything. The thought of having a little version of her running around the tower or their own home made Steve’s heart smile in the best of ways.

She had considered children in the past, although she didn’t want them anymore. She used to be in a serious relationship for all four years of high school--got engaged and started planning a wedding--but she realized that he was actually incredibly toxic, plus she had certain abilities that he didn’t know about.

She had gotten her abilities after an experiment gone wrong. She had been type one diabetic since she was seven years old, and she hated it with everything in her. So when the doctors referred her to an experimental “cure” when she was 17, she jumped at the opportunity, as well as her parents. It was a serum of sorts that was supposed to restore her beta cells and change her immune system so that she could produce insulin. It worked, for sure, but she went to plug in her phone one night at the hospital and was electrocuted. She was dead for twenty minutes before the staff had saved her, but now she had these powers she couldn’t explain.

It was after that when she realized just how bad she didn’t want that apple pie life with the guy she was with. She no longer wanted to marry him, no longer wanted kids, no longer wanted to go to college. She wanted to save people.

(Y/N) was twenty-nine when she had met Steve Rogers. She had been taking her own “missions” for eleven years, but she didn’t know that Steve had been sent on the same mission by Tony Stark. Steve didn’t see the man in the corner of the room that had spotted him, but she did. So, naturally, she flipped herself onto his shoulders and broke his neck with her thighs. It was the sexiest thing he had ever seen.

Steve caught (Y/N) before she had slipped away from him, and he brought her back to the compound to conduct an interview. Tony was in the room as well, and both of them listened to her story, conflicts, and her new-and-improved outlook on life. They took her in and trained her properly, and she fell in love with Steven Grant Rogers.

There was a part of (Y/N) that wanted kids with Steve. There was a larger part of her that didn’t, though. She knew how shitty her own genetics were, and how shitty the world was, and the direction it was going in. And she would be damned if she would raise a kid into this. But that didn’t stop her from perhaps wanting to give it a try, just because it was Steve and she would do anything for that man. He was like kryptonite.

(Y/N) had to admit that she adored how good he was with kids. Whenever you went into public and he stopped to take pictures with children who approached him, her heart fluttered in her chest and a warm smile found its way onto her face. Whenever they would go to her family’s house for the holidays, he would play with her nieces and nephews and cousins, and her parents would ask when she would have a child. She would just smile and shrug, not wanting to break their hearts by telling them that she didn’t plan on giving them another grandchild.

Even the team would tease the living hell out of them. Tony and Bucky were the worst, but even Wanda had her own quips and remarks that she would throw in conversation. Everybody seemed to know that they would live out the apple pie life and get married, settle down, and get a mortgage. They had been dating for five years now; it seemed like any day Steve would pop the question and (Y/N) would say yes a thousand times over. She was just terrified to tell him that she didn’t want kids. She just knew that he would want to leave her and find another woman who wanted to give him a family.

It was at a routine check-up that her doctor found abnormalities. They ran scans and tests and took a biopsy and found out what was going on.

The years of diabetes plus newly found endometriosis had rendered (Y/N) infertile. She physically couldn’t have children. Couldn’t give that to Steve. Nausea hit her so hard that she thought she was going to vomit everywhere.

It was one thing to not want kids. That was something that perhaps be changed with time. But this was something else. This was years of medical history smacking her in the face--no, the uterus--and taking away her Steve. She couldn’t comprehend that this was real. Her choice was suddenly taken away from her, and now there was no way she could be with Steve. He deserved a woman who was whole. And that wasn’t her.

That same day, there was a team breakfast. She hadn’t told Steve yet, she couldn’t figure out how she wanted to say it. (Y/N) just wanted to cave into herself through the entire meal.

“You know, Morgan could use a friend around here,” Tony trailed off, smirking at (Y/N) and her boyfriend, who was holding her hand under the table. Multiple pairs of eyes flitted over to the two of them, smiling cheekily as Steve smiled.

“Yeah, we’ll get right on that,” Steve quipped, although it felt more genuine than a joke.

“I admit, a little version of Steve and (Y/N) would be adorable as hell,” Sam chimed in, sitting back in his chair as he smirked a bit.

She was getting uncomfortable, and that same pit dropped into her stomach as it did when the doctor gave her the news. Her hand unintentionally squeezed Steve’s a little harder, but he had misread it as something comfortable for both of them.

“Could you imagine a kid with Steve’s eyes and (Y/N/)’s hair?” Nat mused. “Adorable.”

“And you know that child would be athletic as hell,” Bucky added, shoving a fork full of eggs into his mouth afterward.

“Would you want a boy or a girl?” Clint added. “Both are hard to raise, though.”

(Y/N) couldn’t handle it anymore. She stood up abruptly, pivoting on her heels and practically running off to her and Steve’s room. She started grabbing armfuls of her things, moving them back into her old room that was three doors to the right of Steve’s. She knew that he wouldn’t want her now. It would have to come out eventually that she wasn’t enough, wasn’t whole enough for him.

Steve knocks on his door just under a minute later. Almost all of her belongings were moved out already since she didn’t see the point in cluttering his room when she had a perfectly good room.

“(Y/N)?” He asks cautiously. “Can I come in?”

She opened the door, tears threatening to spill as much as she detested it. “It’s your room, Steve, you can come in whenever you’d like.”

He stepped in and quietly shut the door, resting his hands on her shoulders as he inspected her facial expressions. “What’s wrong, baby girl?”

She heaved a heavy sigh, aiming her gaze downward so that she didn’t have to see the disappointment that was bound to find its way on to Steve’s face. “I can’t have kids,” She mutters quietly. She was sure that he wouldn’t have heard it if it wasn’t for the serum in his veins.

“What?”

(Y/N) cleared her throat, closing her eyes as she repeated herself a little louder this time. “I can’t have kids, Steve. The doctor told me that I’m infertile.” A stretched silence ensued, so she stepped away from him and moved toward the door. “I get it, Steve. I wouldn’t want to be with me either. I’m not whole, and I understand that.”

“Are--do--are you breaking up with me?” He asked, turning back toward her.

“Don’t you want to be with someone better? Who can give you a family?” She asked, her eyes trained on the floor in front of his feet. She couldn’t look him in the eyes. Not now. Not when she knew she was losing him.

“(Y/N), baby girl, it doesn’t matter that you’re infertile,” Steve said. She could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke, and she finally, finally brought her gaze up to look him in the eyes. “I love you as you are. Your sister told me a while ago that you didn’t want children, not since high school. And I understand,” He says, stepping toward her and pulling her toward him. “I’m perfectly content living with you. If you were to ever change your mind, we could adopt or get a surrogate, if you’d like. Kids aren’t what’s important right now. Right now, it’s just you and me, me and you, and we’re going to get married, and when we retire, maybe we could get some dogs or cats and settle down. But only when we’re both ready.”

She clung to him, crying into his shirt as he held her soothingly. “You mean that?”

“Every word, sweetheart,” Steve said into her hair, kissing there as well. “You are whole. You are enough. And I love you.”

“I love you, too, Steve,” She smiled, pulling away just enough to lean up and kiss him. It was smooth, gentle, and reassuring--exactly what she needed right now.

“And I’ll talk to the team about it if that’s what you’d like. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

“You are literally the best,” She laughed. He steps away from her and kisses her forehead.

“Only for you, baby girl.”

The team stopped talking about it after that. Steve talked to them at that same breakfast, telling them that she was heartbroken about it, but that it was going to be okay.

It was going to be okay because (Y/N) loved Steve wholly, and he loved her deeply. They would go to the ends of the earth for each other, and not being able to have children certainly wouldn’t stop that love. Nothing could.

#baby girl #babygirl #marvel #one shot #marvel one shot #steve rogers #captain america #steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #fluff #angst

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discjockeyetc · 4 years ago

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How I Got Here: One Year (and 85 pounds) Later

On October 14th, 2019, I began a journey that would change my life (and my health) for the better. I’ve told the whole story to a few people here and there, but never really put the whole thing down in to words. I figured the one year anniversary would be a good time to do that.

On October 14th, 2019, I weighed 250 pounds. As I’m writing this today, on October 14th, 2020, I weigh right at 165 pounds.

With that, here’s what happened, and how I got here... one year (and 85lbs) later.

It all began on Friday, October 11th at about 12:00pm. I was working from home, Jill was at work, and Turner was at school. Sydney had been dealing with a nasty body rash, so we had kept her home from school. We were dog sitting Jill’s parents’ dog Goldie, so Sydney and I were standing on the patio watching Goldie and Freddie play in the backyard. As we were standing there, I suddenly felt this rush of numbness take over the entire left side of my body. From the top of my head to my toes. Total numbness. My left hand felt like I had been sitting on it for a half hour. My mouth had that sensation (or lack of sensation, as it were) of just receiving a shot of novocaine from the dentist.

This was, as you can imagine, pretty strange, so I quickly gathered the dogs and Sydney and went back inside. I sat back down at my desk while the episode was happening. After about 60 seconds, it stopped. Just went away. I didn’t pass out or get dizzy or anything. I didn’t get droopy-faced or drop anything I was holding. Just numbness (with a little tingling).

It would happen a couple more times that afternoon and each time would last about the same amount of time; about 60 to 90 seconds or so. I had a wedding to do that Saturday (which I was NOT going to miss) and had multiple episodes of this random numbness throughout that day and night.

That Sunday, we made our annual pilgrimage to Burt’s Pumpkin Farm and Hillcrest Orchards, and it would pop up a couple times that day. All in all, from Friday around lunch time to Sunday night, I had probably 20 of these little episodes.

[Quick important side story: I made two BIG mistakes here, and I’m not afraid to admit them. Mistake number one: I didn’t want to make a big deal out of this, so I did the stereotypical “male” thing and swept it under the rug. I had a wedding to do, and we had our pumpkins and apples trip... and I didn’t want to miss ANY of that... and I absolutely would have. Mistake number two: I didn’t really tell Jill what was going on, and that’s one of my biggest regrets in ALL of this. I needed to tell her, but I didn’t really mention it until Sunday night. This is a mistake I will NEVER make again... and I only share this as a testimony for all married couples on what NOT to do in serious situations like this. We had just celebrated our 17th wedding anniversary... and even though we’ve been married a good long time, I still got this wrong... but never again. Okay... back to the main story]

I didn’t have a primary care doctor at the time, so I figured I’d go to the urgent care near my house first thing Monday morning. Now, I realized that an urgent care can’t “fix” this, but I had to start somewhere, right? After I described what I experiencing, the PA did all of normal cognitive tests (”squeeze my fingers”, “What year is it?”, “push against my arms”, and so on). The PA went to talk to the main doctor at the primary care, and while she was gone, I had another episode. I popped my head out of the exam room to let them know. No sooner than I did that, the PA was returning from her conversation with the doctor... and they were ready to point me in the direction I was seeking. That direction was the emergency room.

Jill and I were both working from home that day, so I reached out to her and let her know that I needed to go to the ER. The urgent care wouldn’t let me leave on my own, so I either had to take an ambulance, or have someone come pick me up. Jill ran right up to the urgent care, and off we went to the hospital.

I showed up at the emergency room VERY nervous and unsure about what would happen, but I explained what was going on, and they checked me in. Remember, this was pre-Covid, so I was able to get in with no issue and very little delay. I reached out to my work supervisor to let him know what was going on and that I’d be away from my desk for a while. All good there. I was taken back to the ER area and got the ball rolling.

After my vitals were taken, tests were immediately ordered. Luckily, the BIG tests (MRI, CT scan, heart ultrasound) appeared to be normal. *whew* Good news there. I also did the whole gauntlet of blood and urine tests. Now, I always knew that I was pretty overweight and that my eating habits were NOT good. I was also expecting my blood pressure to be less than spectacular (whih it was, of course). I hadn’t taken any medications for cholesterol or BP. This was mainly due to a condition that Jill and the ER nurses referred to as “manitis” (aka male stubbornness). %100 guilty of that FOR SURE.

While all this is going on, I would have a couple more episodes of that same numbness while sitting in an ER bed.

I wouldn’t end up talking to him until later in the day, but the Neurologist who ordered and reviewed my tests instructed the staff to inform me that I would be admitted to the hospital right away. That’s when the fear REALLY sunk in.

I was taken to a room on the fifth floor and got settled in. The IV was installed, and I got “dressed” in my gown. Private room, too. Not bad. They continued to monitor my vitals... especially my blood pressure which was still far too high. I was started on a drip and began taking medicine to help my BP.

The Neurologist came by to tell me what he believed was going on. In his estimation, the numbness was probably caused by blockages in microscopic veins/arteries (NOT a stroke or a series of mini-strokes), so, this was welcomed news. Blockages are treated with cholesterol medication (something I figured was coming at some point).

It was around this time that another person (a nurse, I believe) came in and said something to the effect of “Oh, and by the way... you have type 2 diabetes.”. Wait, what??

The results of the blood work I had done earlier showed my A1C level was WAY WAY WAY too high. If you’re not familiar with A1C, it’s a three month average of your blood sugar. A normal, healthy person’s A1C is probably 4.5 or so. Mine was 11.1. As my work supervisor said, I should have been in a diabetic coma! That’s an incredibly high and dangerous number. So, not only did I begin treatment for high cholesterol to help ease these numbness episodes, I immediately began treatment for type 2 diabetes. This included regular insulin injections throughout the day... in addition to the medication I had begun taking for the blockages.

The meds I was taking for the numbness seemed to have worked. I had one last episode around 5:00pm the day I checked in to the hospital. And now, exactly a year later, I haven’t had another one since then. I was told that I would stay the night in the hospital for further observation. If my BP could get under control, I would be able to go home... tomorrow. I was spending the night in the hospital.

I’m not going to lie. I was incredibly scared at this point. How would I explain to Turner and Sydney what was going on? How long would I have to stay here? Am I going to be okay? What’s actually going on? The questions were swirling. Jill brought the girls up to the hospital that evening and I explained to them, in plain english, exactly what was going on. They understood, which is good... because I didn’t want to hide anything from them (or Jill) anymore.

A new journey was already underway.

After Jill and the girls left for the night, I had a little bit of a meltdown. Okay, maybe two... but they were interrupted by the constant flow of nurses coming to poke me with needles. I’m a good patient, though, and complied with all of the instructions I was given. The way I figured, if I followed instructions and did what I was told, I would get to go home sooner.

It worked. I was ultimately discharged at about 5:30 on Tuesday... about 36 hours after arriving.

I met with a diabetic counselor to start the learning process (which is ongoing until this very day). I started on insulin while I was in the hospital and began checking my sugar (finger pricks) 4 times a day. I also made an appointment with a new primary care doctor for later that week. I was on my way!

After meeting with my doctor (which I’ve done regularly for the past year), I was able to get on a path to wellness. I used to eat absolute garbage... and HUGE portions of it, too. I also dropped the diet coke right away. To this day, I still don’t take in ANY caffeine. I immediately went low/no carb, low/no sugar, HIGH protein. I did have to drop beer, which is sad. I really enjoyed my nice, locally crafted IPA’s, but they have WAY too many carbs. I switched to bourbon, though. A suitable replacement, if you ask me. Ha ha! All throughout this process, I found that I have far more self control and will power than I ever imagined. At the risk of sounding cliche’, if *I* can make these changes, literally anyone can.

In more recent days, I’ve found that I can take in a bit more carbs (and even some sweets) and still keep my sugar under control. I still can only eat smaller portioned meals and get full much quicker than I used to. I’m good for usually one big meal a day (usually dinner). I still keep the carbs way down, though. I’ve been able to learn how my body reacts to certain kinds of carbs and adjust my meals based on that. For instance, pizza doesn’t really affect me too terribly bad. French fries, however, aren’t as good. It’s stuff like that I’ve had to train on. It’s been a lot of trial and error, but in the long run, it’s worth it.

It hasn’t always been easy. There were plenty of times where a delicious piece of cake was waved under my nose... or a big pile of french fries were put in front of me. It was that fear of poor health that kept me away from those things, though. It was the motivation of wanting to walk my daughters up the aisle at both of their weddings. It was the notion of growing old with Jill, holding our grandchildren, and living a FULL. Once I found that motivation, it got easier.

Early on in the journey, I would do things that weren’t so smart... like purposely withhold meals. I would say I wasn’t hungry, when in truth, I was afraid of food. I’m not proud of this and it’s definitely NOT the way to go. But you have to understand... I was making a complete 180 degree change in my lifestyle, and I didn’t really know what I was doing. There was also a medication had the main purpose of controlling my blood sugar levels. One of its side effects was that it would completely zap my appetite. That also caused me to skip a lot of meals. These days, my appetite is much better and healthier, and I rarely ever skip a meal. If I do, it’s because the previous meal was on the bigger side.

In the months that followed, I would make regular visits to my new doctor (which I still do to this day... about every three months). I have also been able to adjust my medication to almost nothing. Eventually, I was able to drop the insulin (and later, the metformin which is a popular drug for diabetics). I still take one pill to control my sugar as well as medication for cholesterol and blood pressure.

The main thing that’s helped me was diet... because I HAAAATE exercise. Definitely not a fan. I admit that I probably would have gotten much further much quicker had I done literally ANY kind of exercise, but it is what it is. These days, I could probably stand to do some kind of exercise just to tone up what I have... and what I have is still kind of a “dad bod”... it’s just 85 pounds lighter than it used to be. ha ha!

I’ve had to get a completely new wardrobe, too! I went from a 40 inch waist to a loose 34 (33 would be perfect). I was squeezing into XL sized shirts (2X in some cases)... now, I’m mostly wearing size MEDIUM. Depending on the brand, LG shirts are sometimes a bit too loose. I tell ya what... the clothing part ALONE absolutely blows my mind! I had taken MANY BIG BAGS of clothes to a local thrift store. Also, we took Turner and Sydney to Old Navy a couple weeks ago to get new pants for the fall. While we were there, I decided to try on a couple shirts. You see, Old Navy doesn’t make clothes for people like me (or like how I used to be). The occasional XL sized t-shirt, maybe. But generally speaking, Old Navy wasn’t my store. Well, not only was I able to fit into a shirt, it was MEDIUM sized... not even large! Not gonna lie...I teared up a bit. That was a moment for sure. I brought home about 6 or 7 new shirts for the fall that day. I mean, wow.

I’ve been writing this blog in my heads for several months, and I feel like I’ve gotten everything written out, so I’ll wrap this up. I never knew how miserable I was before until I actually got healthy. I feel better now than I ever remember feeling. I’m sleeping better (and not snoring anymore, according to Jill), I have SO much more energy, and life, in general, is just.... better.

As of today, I’m 85 pounds down, my blood pressure and cholesterol are at normal, healthy levels, and most importantly, my A1C is 5.0... well below the diabetic range. Even though my numbers are good, I’ll *always* be a diabetic, so I’ll always have to be careful about what I eat.

Thank you to everyone who has expressed their congratulations. It means a lot... and hearing “Wow, you look great!” never (NEVER) gets old.

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swiftie6999-blog · 5 years ago

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Soon you'll get better

This song was the hardest to make through without crying..m I started crying right at the beginning...

Thank you thank you thank you Taylor for finding words for such a delicate feeling where you know you are helpless even after having every thing in your life to support that one person who means world to you...

I really wish Mama swift gets well soon...

I relate a lot to how this this situation and all the feelings

My father was never there for me while I grew, yes he was there physically but never was supportive and was very criticizing about every thing I do... That's a story for another time, but his place was taken by my grandpa, my "Baba" he was my everything... Literally everything

I still remember how he used to take me for walks and if I got tired, used to carry me on his shoulder, he would always sneak in chocolates and sweets whenever mom used to get angry and scold me, he was always up for mischievous things like hiding stuff that would piss off my granny, he was too supportive of everything I have ever done, he was the backbone I had.

During my 10th standard ( Indian school system) he was diagnosed with gangrene and his leg had to amputated, I was broken by the fact that the light of my life was literally fading away, he stood 6 feet tall, and was always proud of me for taking up on his height, we used to go for walks and runs. But after this amputation, all this strenuous work was limited, I used to help him up and down everything after all he was the one who taught me how to stand up and run... I felt like I was paying back all his lovez little did I know I had very little time with him...

He used to joke about his health a lot, would say "you'll look after your granny once am gone" and I was like "nah you aren't going anywhere just yet, you'll see me get married and play with my children too"...

I saw him through all hospital visit but he never showed a bit of discouragement on his face even after most doctors gave up on his health due to Diabetes...

Due to limited exercise, he was suddenly losing interest in everything, but he still greeted me with warmest hug, I still feel his arms around me whenever I think about it... Oh how I miss him...

Then after two years, during my most important year ( when we chose our graduation degree/ entrance exams) He got admitted just after a few days of my birthday, I could see he was in pain, I couldn't bring myself to face the truth that he's in pain he will be at peace somewhere else...

I was there everyday and night beside him, cause if I lost him, I would never have been able to live, I told myself that he'll make it out like every other time he has...

But God had another plans for him, he passed away on 24th September 2016...

The year was hard enough for him, I couldn't even imagine the pain he had to go through after amputation or during heart attacks...

God took my angel to a much better place where he has no pain...

But @taylorswift all these feelings, I have never been able to open up, I never have, not to my mom, nor dad no one... Cause I never had the courage too or I didn't even knew how to express without me losing sight of present.... But thanks for such a beautiful song which will always be like a journey back to our favourite memories, the scare of losing him, waiting in hospitals, all these memories, though painful I hope I'll overcome and become stronger one day from them

I don't know if you will ever read this, but just know this song is everything for me, a collage of our memories I remember...

@taylorswift @taylornation

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ahopkins1965 · 10 months ago

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Peace I leave with you, My peace I gives to you; not as the world gives do I give to you ; Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid. This means that Jesus Christ is responsible for giving us true peace and not as the world gives to you. Let not your hearts be troubled. This means that we should not worry and become stressful over needful things. I know that for me Jesus Christ is responsible for giving me the right peace that I am talking about. I will admit that I used to cry out and be stressful over small things and not of matters of the heart.

Next, I used to be a person who would demand things from other people. What really changed my overall behavior tremendously is that I got into a car accident with my best male friend in Dayton, Ohio on the Corner of East Third Street and Keowee back on April 9, 1984. I was going on 19 years old during that time. I will also admit that I was intoxicated due to drinking alcohol and smoking marijuana two hours earlier that day. I was rushed to Miami Valley Hospital for 72 hours of observation. Three months later, I had broken my left hand playing basketball intoxicated due to drinking alcohol and smoking marijuana earlier that day. I had hand surgery on my entire left hand. I remember when I was playing basketball with some friends and suddenly I got faked out by one of my friends on the basketball court at Edison Elementary School in Dayton, Ohio. I was not able to play basketball for almost two years. I had to go through Physical and Occupational Therapy for two years. Afterwards, I started having seizures in public. I have had seizures more than several times during a three year period.

Further, whenever I think of this Bible verse, it reminds me of Jesus Christ walking on the water, and the Disciples thought He was a ghost. Jesus Christ said to them be of good cheer, it is I do not be afraid. That is in Matthew 14:27. This is the truth about the disciples on the boat and Peter asked Him can he walk on the water with Him, He said Come! This reminded me of all of my fair weather friends who used to use and abuse me in the process. It has taken me a long time, but I forgave everyone who had used me and abused me physically and mentally.

Moreover, I consider myself a very good person for forgiving all of my accusers. There are people who are still angry with me over their foolish deeds that were done by them to me. I am very happy that God has spared my life right now. I am very happy for being among the living right now. My life up to this point is based on my ups and downs behaviorally for the past 28 years now. Although I was seeking help for my behavior issues. I have been through a lot of adversity during the past 14 years now.

Finally, I am better right now. I do not argue with anyone else anymore. I pray and read the Bible every day of the week. I have to admit that I am suffering from Alzheimer's and Schizophrenia right now. I also suffer from Type 2 Diabetes Full Blown. I have a lot of pills to take each day of the week for a long number of ailments physically and mentally. The Lord God has been right by my side. I am losing my memory right now. I love all of you for your friendship, prayers, and support. I am trying to complete my fourth book. Authorhouse Publications in Bloomington Indiana is my Publishers. Thank you for keeping me and my family members in your prayers and thoughts. Lord Jesus, please teach me how to cope with my mental illness called Schizoid Affective Disorder and Schizophrenia. Thank all of you understanding my situation and praying for me and my family members. Thank you for reading my essay.

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rpgwrites · 5 years ago

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Diabetes Day: My Story

For Diabetes Day I decided to say how my experiences have been over the years including how I was diagnosed. Please know I’ll only talk about Type 1.

I also have a diabetes blog @lifeofadiabeticlove

Warnings for needles and medical equipment. And please note that I was diagnosed at the age of six.

So, I have been a diabetic for 16 years which is a very long time. I remember when it was 10 years I had to stop and think. Because, I couldn’t believe that I had this thing for so long. If I remember correctly it was in a doctor’s office. Another person asking how long I had this for, I started to count on my finger as I’ve done countless time and then I realized...it’s been 10 freaking years.

But, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Let me first tell the story of how I was diagnosed.

Although I was diagnosed at the age of 6 I showed clear symptoms at 5. My mom used to say I already had diabetes by then. I remembered the symptoms I’ve shown. I was so tired all the time. I slept a lot. Thirst was a big big problem with me. I would have this thirst that would never go away. I would drink and drink until I was so full of water, but yet my thirst wasn’t clenched. Later my paents, my mother mostly, had this rule of not drinking anything past 6pm. And this was really hard for me. I also went to the toilet A LOT. Like really a lot. And so so hungry. People used to say they couldn’t believe how I could eat so much yet be so thin. My family used to joke there was a hole in my stomach to where all the food disapeared too.

These are the most memorable symptoms I had. I also remember what I now know is to have a low. My hands were shaking my tongue felt numb and I felt weak. But after I ate something I felt so much better.

My mom is a nurse and she used to talk to her co-worker and friend about these symptoms I had. She used to tell my mother to just test my sugar. Months went by where she didn’t until one day she took a testing meter from work. They said she could borrow it. The one morning I was getting ready for school, not wanting to go to school at all because I hated kindergarten. So she told me to sit on my bed I thought I did something wrong but did as she told. Then she began to test my sugar. It was strange, I didn’t understand why she pricked my finger or why my blood was needed. She was shocked by the results. Please forgive me it has been 16 years and I was really young at that time but the results were nearby 32 point something. And that’s really high.

But I didn’t need to go to school which I was very happy about. We went to the doctor’s office and the doctor called one of his co-workers. The other doctor thought I was in a coma and was shocked to hear I was playing with toys at the time. I went for blood tests and I remember this so well. My mother promised if I behave well she buy me a chocolate. Which of course I wasn’t even allowed to eat. I can’t remember if I ever got the chocolate or not. But the funny thing about me at that age was that I didn’t have much love for sugar, sweets, cookies, etc. I loved healthy food and fruit, that type of thing.

Things were strange when I admitted at the hospital. I didn’t understand what was going on. And when the trolley with sweets came and nurses said I’m not allowed to get any I didn’t understand why. But lol the girl that was in the bed beside me gave me something(maybe she saw how shocked I was) for which I was thankful for. At visiting time my mom came so I told her about this incident. She gave me a strange look and explained to me that I’m a diabetic and I’ll need to make some lifestyle choices. My kindergarten classmates made me this book of pictures they made to wish a speedy recovery. Then the nurse came with my insulin just before she wanted to inject me my mother stopped her. “She should do it,” my mother said.

I looked at the injection and didn’t want to do it. “You need to learn how to inject yourself,” she explained. I thought it was cruel. I didn’t understand why I should do it. I didn’t want to put a needle into my skin, it seemed unpleasant. The nurse excused herself and my mom looked at me and said, “You’re a big girl now. Kids you’re age learned this a long time ago”. So for just the sake of proving myself I did it. And it wasn’t so bad.

In the end I was thankful that I learned then to do it. Adults would come to me with sorry looks, which I hated, and they couldn’t believe that a 6 year old could inject herself. And then the comments came.

Comments like, “Why are you a diabetic? Did you eat too much sugar?” It made me mad because what they said was that I did this to myself. And today I hate comments like this. But if you hear something a lot you’ll start to believe it. And I started to think, that maybe it was my fault and I had this struggle. Because I knew I didn’t eat too much sugar. I knew a lot of other kids ate a lot more than I did, so I wondered, why did I have to become a diabetic but they don’t. It didn’t seem fair. So one day I asked my mom if this was my fault, if I ate too much sugar. She assured me it wasn’t true, that, that wasn’t a cause of diabetes.

And speak about all of this because I was a kid that was diagnosed if you feel sorry for them because they need to go for blood tests, prick fingers, and inject themselves do it so that they don’t see it. I get it. I really do. A kid doing these things isn’t the best mental image but they don’t see it like that. I can only say how it was for me. For me it was like a basic need. We do it because we have no other choice.

As a kid I’d get these awful lows. It was attacks. I’d wake up screaming like something horrible was happening. And yes, I made some people freak out. Not on purpose of course. This was terrible experiences for me. But thank goodness I don’t get them like this anymore.

As a kid my mom used to say, “You can be a sick diabetic or a healthy diabetic.” I get what she was saying and that is all good and well. But if you try and not succeed it’s not the best thing. Which leads me to this. Do not talk about other people losing their leg because of diabetes. We know the risks. Believe me the diagrams at the doctor offices puts enough fear into us for that. We know what diabetes can do to us. That there can be awful consequences. This is really important. And my mom used to use this tactic a lot. We’d go to the mall and there would be a man in a wheel chair that had an amputated leg so she’ll say, “You see that man. He have diabetes. He didn’t look after himsef they had to amputate it.” It’s not an assuring thought.

Well folks that’s from me. 16 years of sitting with this have taught me a thing of two. This post ended being really long so I’ll make another post. Explaing some things I’ve experienced what people said to me, etc.

May everyone have a fantastic Diabetes Day 2019. And for those that did not know, Diabetes Day is on 14 November because it was Sir Frederick Banting ‘s birthday. Who is he? In 1922 he and Charles Best co-discovered insulin. And this diabetic right here is very thankful for it. I probably wouldn’t have been here without insulin. Which makes the fact that some can’t afford insulin heartbreaking.

#Diabetes Day 2019 #My story #TW needles and other medical stuff

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drunkensword · 5 years ago

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Vitamin C can help in healing from Coronaviruses Dr. Richard Cheng M.D., Ph. D (OMNS Mar 5, 2020) Ms. N lives in Wuhan, China. She takes special care about the well-being of her entire family including her chronically-ill mother, aged 71. Ms. N has always been interested in nutrition and she recently learned about vitamin C's antiviral effects. I am an American physician currently residing in Shanghai. I interviewed Ms. N by telephone after I received a forwarded story that she posted on Chinese social media, WeChat. I made an effort to connect with Ms. N to verify the story and below is what she told me. Ms. N lives with her child in the epicenter of COVID-19 pandemic. She is close to her parents and her brother and his wife. The six of them visit each other on a regular basis. Her mother has diabetes and heart disease with stents placed, in addition to several other chronic illnesses including reflux esophagitis. Right before the Chinese New Year, around January 21st, her mother developed flu-like symptoms, with a low grade fever of 38C. Based on her knowledge. Ms. N advised all members of the family to take oral vitamin C. She herself has been taking about 20,000 mg daily in divided-up doses. Her mother reluctantly took a smaller dose, probably half or less of what her daughter's been taking. Her mother's condition was stable for 9-10 days. But on January 30th, without deteriorating, her mother decided to go to Wuhan Union Hospital, Tongji College of Medicine, The Science and Technology University of Central China, a hospital prominent not only in Wuhan, but in all of China. She wanted to check out if she was infected with the Wuhan pneumonia virus. She got her presumption confirmed. At the hospital, she was diagnosed of what became known now as Covid-19 pneumonia. The second day upon admission, her fever started going up, as high as 39.6C. In about 10 days on February 10th she was admitted to the Intensive Care Unit and went on the heart-lung machine as a final attempt to save her life. At this time Ms. N learned of the clinical trials with vitamin C, administered by infusion (IVC; intravenous vitamin C). Immediately she requested the person in charge on the ICU to use large dose IVC on her mother. The attending physician agreed but would go only to around 10,000 mg. So it happened. After 20 days in ICU, her mother improved and was discharged to a regular ward a few days ago, continuing the IVC treatment, as insisted by Ms. N. While in hospital, Miss N, her brother and sister-in-law took turns to visit and take care of her mother. They were wearing very simple protection: gloves and masks. Also noted is that while her mother got sick at home, none of the five other family members was wearing any mask for several days. But all of them went on oral vitamin C tablets. None of them developed COVID-19 infection. So far this is the story of Ms. N. We wish her mother a full and rapid recovery. In the context of the vast amount of research, clinical studies, case reports and my own decades of experience on vitamin C's use on viral infections, I summarize the story below with a few take-home messages: 1. Vitamin C tablets at high doses daily may be the reason why the family didn't catch the infection. 2. Given her age, history of chronic disease, and the high mortality of COVID-19 on seniors, IVC may have played a large role in her mother's improvement. 3. The news of official IVC clinical trials has definitely had a positive impact in this case, as the attending physician was emboldened to use IVC. 4. A well-functioning immune system is of the utmost importance to keep away the viral infection. And, vitamin C may support the defense against the COVID-19 virus, most importantly in chronically ill patients with a weakened immune system. http://www.orthomolecular.org/resources/omns/v16n17.shtml

#coronavirus #wuhan #vitamin c #dr richard cheng

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iceamericanoventi · 6 years ago

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Love Will Find a Way, Well, Eventually : 3. Bloom

“Is that it?”

Jinki raised his eyebrow to the man beamed like morning dew in front of him. He’s quite surprised with the visit of the younger. When he said he’ll stop by his café last time they met, he thought it was just formality of the courtesy talk.

“Nah, it would upset my stomach if I took more than coffee this early.”

“This is early for you?” Jinki glanced at his watch inevitably hearing such thing.

“My client and supplier abroad are still on the dreamland by this time,” he winked, makes Jinki chuckles behind the counter, “So how much do I owe you?”

“It’s on the house.”

Those round eyes immediately turned brighter, “You sure?”

“Positive.”

“Really?” He leaned further to his front, limb almost completely over the wooden surface. His neck stretched to the direction where Jinki’s making his order. Even from the back, Jinki still looks gallant, his back muscle subtly visible over his indigo cashmere.

“Cut it out before I change my mind,” he turned his back with cup of coffee in his hand, “Since this is early for you, do you mind if you have your coffee here instead for take away? Better for the environment.”

The blinding smile hypnotized Taemin on the spot, “Only if the boss sits with me.”

Another snorted came from Jinki, “Go pick your table then.”

***

“You seem happy this morning.”

Taemin put down the cup and support his head with his left hand on the table, while the right playing with the edge of the saucer.

“Me? Happy? We clearly didn’t know each other for a long time. This is the regular me.”

“Well, what I know is back then you were super grumpy during the whole dinner.”

Jinki brushed his hair back, the locks appeared so soft between his fingers. Taemin needs to suppress his urge not to feel it by his own hand.

“Sorry if my first impression disappointed you,” Jinki’s words halted for a moment, “My head was somewhere else.”

Minho has been texting him a lot since the next morning after they parted. He doesn’t like being accused as anything, but he doesn’t like it more when it’s actually true. He admits he was a bit rude, talking too cold to some people who weren’t at fault.

Even worse, the tall man bothering Jonghyun making the later had no options besides calling Jinki right after he finished with his shift at the hospital. And nagging Jonghyun is the worse.

“Kibum couldn’t stop wondering what the heck is going on with you during our ride home. He thought you’re on your period or something.”

“Maybe I was. Who knows?”

“Kibum was right when he said you’re a bit jokester.”

“It’s only me and you yet you keep talking about Kibum.”

“Jealous much?”

“Too early to talk about feeling. It would upset my stomach.”

Another smile adorn Jinki’s face, sending Taemin heartbeat to run faster than it’s supposed to be, “You’re interesting, Lee Jinki.”

“That’s what people said about me.”

At this rate, it’s hard for Taemin to not take Jinki’s friendly attitude as a light flirt. It seems he faced two different men. The dinner Jinki appeared like assassin in disguise, while the man before him idly looks like ball of sunshine. He sipped his coffee once more to cover his trembled lips.

“So how do I talk to you besides coming here to get my coffee?”

He expected the conversation would go this way, what else brought a busy designer like Taemin to the other side of the city, far for where his studio’s address – thanks to Choi TMI Minho – only to get a cup of cappuccino?

Besides Minho and Jonghyun, and some business partner of course, only several people has his number. Some family member doesn’t even know how to contact him besides the number of his shop. Jinki doesn’t like being disturbed. His time passed seven in the evening belongs for him, and for him only.

But something is unusual from Minho’s rants and excessive reminder to get closer with Taemin, at least try to give a chance for him. He figured that Minho must want to know Kibum better and Taemin won’t allow him to touch his precious best friend if he doesn’t get something in return.

“Ask Minho.”

“Don’t you think I haven’t tried? I can get coffee on the ground floor of my building, Jinki.”

“Bet I have better brew.”

“Of course, the owner is such a view. I didn’t put any sugar but I guess when I leave this place I need to check my blood sugar. I might get early symptoms of diabetes.”

“Stop blurting out some non-sense.”

“Not until you tell me your digits.”

“Are you always this aggressive? Should I be worried?”

“Only to certain people,” Taemin winked playfully to finish his sentence.

“I’ll ask your number from Minho later.”

“If you had three-days rule under your sleeve, you better cancel it right here right now, Sir.”

“I think it’s safe for me to start worried now.”

***

Jinki walked aimlessly between the bookshelves, checking some new novels to enjoy with one or two glasses of Bailey’s. Yesterday he was cleaning his apartment, taking half day off from his shop to finally realize he needs to hold yard sale by the end of the night because apparently he’s certified hoarder.

He has too many books. Some of the binds almost fell off, some of the cover even ripped, and some got coffee stain or maybe wine or some liquor he downed while reading the said books. After some deliberation, he opted to bring all the books to the shop and purchased some new one to accompany him at home.

Minho said, nobody reads book anymore at the coffee shop nowadays, but Jinki spat right on him for delaying the promotional strategy he promised a while ago because the photographer suddenly ought to go to Japan for some possible exhibition the next fall.

“Five at most, Jinki.”

He looked to his the small basket on his left hand, it’s been a while he went to real book shop, there are already seven books inside, “We’ll see.”

“What’s the point of moving everything to your shop then bring back another hundred home?”

“I am not that rich, Honey.”

“You aren’t. But you are not gonna give up a book when you already like it as well.”

“Wow. The perks of being boyfriends for five years.”

“Not a perk. An agony. You could buy some nice wallet or watch for me instead piling books on each corner of your place.”

“Ouch. I’ll buy you snow globe on the anniversary of our break up.”

“Oh, how sweet.”

“I am.”

“Whatever. Gotta go, some kids need their hero.”

“I need my hero as well.”

“Then stop shutting people down and take the courage. Live a little!”

“Yes, Dad.”

Jinki shoved his phone at his back pocket and continued touching and picking and putting it back to the shelf, repeating it several times until he reached the new arrival sections. He saw a book with a teal cover with a sketch of beautiful window in embossed silver ink on the middle of it, with small handwriting right below, About.

He peek his basket again, still less than ten, I’m good. Saw him dumping the book on top piles of the others, a staff walked closer to him.

“Hey, would you like to join our fan sign event?”

“What?”

“Ah yeah, the writer of that book is holding a fan sign at the moment. There would be some little reading as well. And everyone who purchases that book today, can join the fan sign for free.”

The girl sees how Jinki’s hesitating at the moment, half whispered, she showed him to the shelf on her right, “The book just released two days ago. It’s already on the best seller wall. It’s the fifth book of the writer that made it there. I’m sure you don’t want to miss this.”

“I’ll think about that,” he walked to the check out counter to pay all of his books. It’s three in the afternoon but the bookshop is crowded as much. While waiting by for his turn, he flipped the teal-covered book to check the summary written.

‘A flower would wither, inevitably, with or without care. When a tree is not teared down by an axe, reality might override some expectation, while it stays in her might, it’s eating herself from the inside. Since nobody know, nobody care. Just like flower, inevitably, it would wither. You said a mother would always stays, it’s about love. But rain smashed down the earth, flooding the land, vanishing some hopes. So much dread, but it’s about love as well.’

He saw the writer’s name, Key it says – which he’s much not familiar with. But what irked him is the commentary notes, he saw the name of the first author his grandfather introduced him: Key did it again. Same energy, some reflection, but different touch as always.

Interesting, he thought. Retreated from the line he picked his phone and texted his manager that he’s not returning back to the shop after his afternoon shopping spree.

***

Something inside his chest is racing, thumping with unnecessary rapid pace. His eyes glued to the figure appeared at the corner of the small stage arranged at the back part of the bookshop. He looks so soft with another oversize sweater wraps him, as if the article of clothes is specially made for him. The color burgundy is contrast with the skin peeking just right above his collarbones.

Some audience by the first three rows squealing at the smile he sports when he looks at their directions. The scene makes Jinki ducked his head quickly, afraid that the man would think him a creep. A creep who stalks people they barely knew with book shopping as their excuses, hiding among some late teenagers making a fuss over small wave from the man.

Jinki stretched his neck a bit, checking for empty seat he could sneak in. He found a place on the right side next to a pillar covered by some wooden shelves, a perfect hideout until his turn for the sign.

“Hi, everyone!” his voice is still as charming as Jinki remembered, “Thanks for coming today though it’s with very short notice, you are all here! I am impressed, but also grateful to the hill.”

He stops for a while to reach his copy of the book he’s going to sign this afternoon.

“Actually, it was scheduled to be released only next month, even if I finished it early. So, I bugged my editor to chase their tails to distribute it faster. Guess I am a very good dog person!”

Roar of chuckles fill the air by the joke, but mainly by the way he rolled his eyes when he’s talking about his publisher.

“Today I will read for you some pages which are my favorite from ‘About’. This book composed by questions we have about all the simple things happened around us. Or to us. About all the things we take for granted.”

From his seat, Jinki can clearly see how the man blushed when a girl took a picture of him but forgot to turn off the flash light.

“For the first time, I don’t have main character. The story isn’t specifically centered on particular people. I want to be as inclusive as can be for everything’s happened inside this book could occur to anyone despite their social status or their point of view toward life.”

He takes his glasses and gulped down some water prepared for him before he opens the book in his hand, and started reading.

“She just left. She yelled one night, screamed her lungs out, spat on my face, at one point made me believed words came out from her, that I am useless. Ungrateful and asking too much. I had enough of you, that’s how she ended the dreadful conversation. The following morning I saw a glass of milk on the table, fifty dollars slipped neatly underneath. Cinnamon rolls placed next to it, wrapped by blue napkin, a letter laid on the top of it. No, it wasn’t letter, it was not even one paragraph, and it’s written at the back of old supermarket’s receipt. I’m sorry I had to do this, it began. I would be a bad mother if I’m with you. We shouldn’t have been each other’s pain. Since then, I resent my mother for all bad lucks I encountered for the last ten years.”

There’s no single sound from the audience. Everyone’s drown to the sooth voice reciting some lines from his book. One girl at the back even took out her handkerchief and silently wiped her tears. He bit his lips, seems reluctant to continue reading the passage.

Jinki stunned by the words. The last sentence tastes too familiar.

***

Kibum can only stare to the man walked closer to him. He blinks, once, twice, but the scene didn’t falter. The man even smiled, waved his book to the dumbfounded author. So many questions popping inside his head, starting on how on earth such an aloof personality is bothered coming to an event like this.

“I am a fan. Starting today,” he put the book in front of Kibum just like previous people before he observed. But the eyes of the said man still wedged on Jinki’s face, “You okay? Last time I checked, I’m not a ghost, Kim Kibum. Or should I say, Key.”

He took the book anyway, head still shaking in disbelief, “That name is off limit. How did you get here?”

“Err.., by subway?”

Only chuckles blurted out before he starts writing on the first page, “I thought an alien abducted you here.”

“Well, that would be less boring.”

“This is awkward,” Kibum snorted, “But thank you for coming. I mean it.”

“My pleasure, Kibum. I’ll finish this as soon as possible.”

Kibum waved to him slightly too excited, eyes glued to Jinki’s back, following him to the seat he’s sitting by himself, away from the crowd. A staff needs to tap his shoulder lightly announcing another reader already waiting on his right. He quickly apologized and detached himself from Jinki’s direction.

Meanwhile, Jinki traced the fresh ink on his copy, simple smile reappeared when he read the cute handwriting.

‘Let me know if you like the story. Or not. Enjoy, Lee Jinki! J’

He looks to the small stage, secretly hoping the later turned his head his way so he can mouthed another thank you and leave better impression. But Kibum’s of course busy signing and chatting with his fans. Sometimes he cracked a little bit too loud an excuse himself for startling people around.

Jinki is still trying taking in the entire situation without being overwhelmed. When Minho said Kibum’s a writer, he didn’t expect it would be this famous. And the way he treats each reader, furtively gave him hope. A hope of something he didn’t understand yet for what. A hope he secretly wished it was only on his misshaped mind.

“Is my book that amazing I got a beautiful man flipping the pages or is that too boring you expected some twist on the next paragraph?”

Jinki looked up when a familiar voice approached him. He was too caught up with the story line, he didn’t realize the fan signing is all wrapped up and some staffs already started clean up the chairs. Kibum smiles sincerely, and without asking any permission he sits next to him, leaned closer to check until which part Jinki already reading. Little did he know, his perfume confiscated Jinki’s respiratory system, making it hard to balance his need of oxygen.

“Care to explain again what on earth brought you here?”

Jinki closed the book and rested in on his laps, “I was buying some books. It’s the time of the month. Not something I’m proud of, but I do judge a book by its cover. Literally. And when I saw yours, it goes to the cart immediately. And one of the staff told me I got a chance to have my book signed by the author.”

“I should call my graphic designer after this and treat him a dinner.”

“You should. I’m rarely this open complimenting people.”

Kibum burst into another long haul of laughter. He looked at Jinki once again, and still, shaking his head again for this is such a weird coincidence. He was a bit ill this morning when he woke up and was still not in the mood even he got better after some medicine Amber gave him. He almost calling his publicist to postponed the book signing until at least next week.

He thanked his hard headed manager to shove him more soup and vitamins while yelling him it’s impossible to cancel the book signing which he personally asked to be added on his schedule.

“What do you think so far?”

“It’s too soon to come up with some conclusion. I’ll save that for later. But the passage you read before, I like that a lot.”

Lots of people reading Kibum’s book, lots of people said they love it. What just rolled out Jinki’s mouth, though, painted him some contentment. For Kibum, what he grasped from Jinki’s attitude back on the restaurant showed him that Lee Jinki is very hard to please. Taemin was almost all over him during the dinner, but he didn’t budge. And befriended with the designer, he got to know that Taemin is a very charming person, no one actually wasn’t drown on his vibe.

“What are you doing after this Jinki?”

He was planning to stop by Jonghyun’s house and bought some egg breads on the way knowing it was his ex-boyfriend’s favorite. The later has been bugging him with endless texts saying he’s exhausted.

“Hmm, nothing. Mostly go back home and continue reading.”

“Do you want to grab some bites?”

Jinki thanked his grandfather words as much as he cursed it. He would never say no to that kind of questions.

“Relax, it’s not a fancy dinner which might turn you into cold asshole.”

“Hey. I might be cold but I’m not an asshole.”

“We’ll see.”

***

Kibum brought him to his favorite burger joint in a very nice neighborhood. It’s close to the hyped area near Hongdae, but secluded enough to actually able to get some order served without being annoyed by some line. Kibum decided to take away and enjoy the burger while walking around with I-already-sit-for-a-very-long-time as an excuse.

They talked about books, puppies – Kibum has two –, and some stupid stuffs they encountered while walking down alleys to alleys. It’s not weekend yet, but the street’s already filled by youngsters.

“These kids are supposed to sit on their desk studying for dear life!”

Kibum couldn’t hide his anger when a group of freshman walked passes them and nearly knocked him down butt kissing the pavement. Luckily, Jinki was there snatching his arm in flash.

“Let them be. Too much studying is such a waste, they’ll stress themselves. Nothing great about being depressed.”

“Was that the story of your life?”

“Maybe, the part of being depressed in such young age sounds familiar.”

The answer brought Kibum quiet. By the corner of his eyes he catches Jinki secured both of his hands on the pocket of his coat, face straight to the front trying not to give Kibum any chance to ask something related to that.

“What life without drama, then? Now tell me, why you insist on running specifically jazz café.”

“I love jazz and I love coffee. I have the opportunity to wed them, that’s what happened.”

“But you don’t seem happy talking about it.”

“I’m not a talker to begin with. So to incorporate happy feeling on my conversation is quite challenge.”

“I wonder how I’m the writer and not you,” Jinki raised his eyebrow in question, “You always have a way with words, you know?”

“A gift. When you’re raised to argue with your folks, you’ll manage.”

They walked side by side for the rest of the journey back to the main street, both are occupied with their own thoughts. The temperature dropped as the night goes by, but neither is bothered with it. Much to Jinki preference, he likes the comfortable silence.

Sometimes he glances to his side, Kibum always caught him looking but he said nothing. So he did the same when Kibum cocked his head to check on him.

“You sure you don’t want me to drive you home?”

Kibum asked the other man when he saw his car from a far.

“Nah, I’m good. Besides, I’ll be the end of your avid fans rant when they found out you drove back a newbie like me.”

Light slap landed on Jinki’s shoulder, “Stop it, will you?”

Jinki’s about to tease Kibum further, but seeing the man before him pouting like a toddler, all the will evaporated into the night sky and replaced with some funny feeling inside.

As they eased closer to Kibum’s car, Jinki hummed random song he listened to the radio blasted on the burger place which happened to stuck inside his head.

“I like that song.”

“The melody kinda stuck here,” he pointed to his temple which Kibum totally agreed with him.

“One last chance to get a ride from your new favorite writer.”

Kibum stands near the passenger door, waiting for Jinki to change his mind.

“Sounds amazing but I’m going to take the subway.”

“Your choice.”

He opened the backseat door to retrieve some of Jinki’s stuffs. He told him to leave the books in his car because he knew they will walk a lot and Jinki has at least four pounds of book in the paper back he handed back to the owner.

“Here you go. It was nice bumped into you, Jinki. Who knows you’re this, you know, remarkable.”

“I’m flattered.”

“Promise me you won’t hate me if you don’t like my book.”

“That won’t happened, I promise you.”

“A deal then.”

“A deal.”

Kibum decided that giving the other man a farewell hug is super awkward and would ruin the night. So he just nods and reaches the handle of the door, already missing the nice conversation he had even before he buckled his seatbelt.

“Kibum.”

“Yeah?”

“Umm, can I call you sometimes?”

Kibum’s smile never been this liberating.

***

It was posted on my AFF and I was thinking to cross posted it here. But, ofc, in a very very slower pace because I am that lazy yes, sloth is my spirit animal. If you’re interested to read the story, go check there. It’s already on chapter 7 lol! Thanks for reading this, I hope you like it! XOXO

#shinee fiction #shinee scenario #shinee fanfic #shinee #onew #jinki #jonghyun #kibum #key #minho #taemin #onkey #ontae #onho #jongho #taekey #minkey #LWFAWWE

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