#and she prescribed this thing that goes on your arm for 45 minutes and it hurts you

[spacejammie-eimmajecaps]

I am very sure that scrubbing my brain with a soapy washcloth would feel amazing and cure my headaches

[high-functioning-lokipath]

SH - Sherlock x Depressed!Reader - With a Little Help from My Friends - Words: 2,793

IMPORTANT A/N - PLEASE READ: As stated in the title, this story contains discussions of depression. There is mention of suicidal thought and self-harm. I personally don't think it's too intense in it's descriptions HOWEVER!!! If this will trigger you, for your own health and safety please do not read. My messages are always open if you'd like to talk. I wrote this partially based on my own feelings so I can understand to at least a degree. You're amazing and I love you all. As far as this story goes, just remember: it has a happy, very fluffy ending but it doesn't start that way. I hope you enjoy it, feel free to leave a comment!

Brief Backstory: Reader is friends with John and Sherlock. She is a nurse who works with John. The three met shortly after Sherlock came back. Sherlock and Reader have crushes on each other but won't admit to it. I think the story explains everything else.

"Y/N, I'm going to be honest," John said, putting his hand on your shoulder comfortingly. "I may have PTSD but I cannot fully put myself in your shoes. My depression is different than yours." You had called your best friend, John Watson, in a mild panic. You had been feeling depressed for some time, as he knew, but that day had been especially bad. There was no particular reason but your depression had gotten so intense that you knew you needed help to get past this particular wave. John invited you over to 221B, assuring you that his flatmate would be out for the next couple of hours. "As a doctor, I am going to prescribe you some medication. Lowest dose possible and only because I want to help you get some immediate relief but I know you do not want them to become permanent. Let's work on finding another solution for you, ok?"

"I don't know, John," you replied. You'd asked John to be your Doctor since you didn't go to one regularly and he didn't mind your irregular checkups. "I've tried just about everything. The only outlet that seems to help is writing and even then," you trailed off, trying not to cry again. "This feeling just won't go away and I don't even know why it's there in the first place. I just want it to stop."

"I think you should talk to Sherlock."

"What?" You squeaked. "Why in the world would I talk to Sherlock?"

"I can't tell you why, Y/N. As both your Doctor and Sherlock's, I have to respect certain amounts of patient confidentiality. However, as your friend, I think you should talk to him."

"I don't know."

"Trust me," He replied. Smirking slightly, he added, "Doctor's orders."

"Ok, John," you chuckled. He smiled and hugged you. "Thanks."

"Now how about we go and fill this prescription and then maybe get some ice cream?"

"Well, honestly," you sighed. "The ice cream sounds great but I didn't sleep well last night. I was actually wondering if I could just take a nap here for a bit. I sleep better here sometimes." You blushed but John nodded understandingly.

"Of course," He replied. "I'll run down to the drugstore and fill this for you. Meanwhile you get some rest. I'll let Sherlock know you're here just in case he ends up getting back before I do. Will you be ok by yourself?"

"Yeah," You smiled. "This is a safe space for me. I'll go grab a blanket. Thanks again."

"Don't mention it. Just remember, talk to him."

"I'll try."

About 15 minutes later, Sherlock arrived back at the flat. He'd gotten John's texts.

John: If you get home in the next 45 minutes, be quiet. Y/N is over and she's taking a nap. I have to run out for something.

Sherlock: Is everything ok? - SH

John: She said she had a bad night.

Sherlock: She must have had a reason to come over in the first place though. - SH

John: She's going to need to tell you that herself. Don't ask. Do you understand me? Let her tell you. Be nice, ok?

Sherlock: When am I not nice to Y/N? - SH

John: Ok, that is true. You like her too much to be rude to her. If you could just hold back your deductions for one second I will say this: you two have more in common than you think.

He hurried home, not to wake you up of course, but because he wanted to see you. If there was something seriously wrong, he wanted to try and brace himself for it first. He couldn't help the smile playing at the corner of his lips when he thought of you. You two were good friends, that much was obvious to everyone. But Sherlock could see the potential for something more. He liked you a lot. You were just as smart, sassy, and sarcastic as he was. But you also could be extremely kind and caring to others and especially to him. He still didn't quite understand why you cared for him so but he was grateful. Before he could dwell on that too much longer, he arrived at 221B.

He quietly slipped inside and smiled at what he saw. You were curled up on the couch, sleeping like a baby. Apparently, though, you'd kicked off the blanket you had grabbed. Instead of picking up the blanket, he decided to take off his long coat and carefully lay that over you. You quickly cuddled into the warm fabric, unconsciously taking a deep breath, inhaling his unique signature left behind on the coat. Satisfied with what he'd done, he took off his suit jacket and went to the kitchen to prepare some tea for when you woke up. He knew you had a favorite tea and, unless John moved it or drank it all, there still would be some in the cupboard.

You woke to the smell of your favorite tea and a hushed exclamation from the kitchen. Opening your eyes slowly you saw Sherlock in at the counter trying to set up a tray with the teapot and cups. Recognizing your surroundings a bit more, you realized what was on top of you. Sherlock was just about to bring out the tray but you decided to pretend you were still asleep. The chances of fooling the Detective were low, but you wanted to try.

"There," He whispered to himself, setting the tray on the coffee table. You could hear him settling down on his chair, likely getting into his 'palace pose' as you called it. For a moment you were happy. You had actually gotten some quality sleep, you were currently cuddled up in Sherlock's famous coat and Sherlock had even made you tea. But that feeling quickly faded. Tears threatened to spill out of your still closed eyes as self-deprecating thoughts filled your mind.

'John probably told him to make me tea. He probably covered me with his coat so I wasn't as much of a distraction. He doesn't want me here. He never does. Why does he even tolerate my presence? He probably wishes we'd never met,' You thought. Your mind was going a million miles an hour and gaining. Without your notice, the tears began rolling down your cheeks and quiet sobs escaped your lips.

"Y/N?" Sherlock whispered. You're eyes shot open. You hadn't heard him get up. Now he was kneeling right next to you, one hand hovering over your arm. "Are you ok?"

"Oh, Sherlock!" You cried. "I-I wish I knew."

"C'mere," he said, motioning for you to sit up. Once you did so, he pulled you into a tight hug.

"What's this for?"

"You always give me and John a hug when you see us. You haven't done so for the past 5 days. I-" he paused briefly before lowering his voice and continuing. "I missed it."

"Oh." You weren't quite sure how to reply to that. You leaned into his embrace, letting yourself get lost in the moment.

"Y/N? Is there something I can do to help?"

"How much did John tell you?" You asked. You wouldn't have been mad exactly if John had told Sherlock to talk to you, but you wanted to think Sherlock was reaching out on his own.

"He told me you had a bad night."

"That's all?" You asked, surprised. You pulled away slightly and stared into his eyes. Sherlock nodded, frowning slightly as he tried to deduce you.

"Why are you afraid to talk to me?" You turned away, embarrassed and unsure what to say. "Be honest."

"I don't want you to make fun of me. I have-" You took a deep breath, steeling your nerves and preparing to just jump right in. "I have been extremely depressed lately and I didn't want to hear another speech about how all I need to do is exercise and eat right and stop thinking about sad things. Well you know what? I can't stop it! I can't help it if I feel like a useless pile of trash that should be thrown in the bin and burned." By the time you finished your little tirade, you'd gotten up and started pacing the floor. Then you turned and faced Sherlock. His expression was neutral but there was an obvious sadness in his eyes, one you didn't expect to see. It wasn't of pity. If you had seen that you also would have given up on the conversation. No, it was almost an understanding, an empathy. His eyes were actually glistening with tears.

"Have you ever felt like," he paused, voice unsteady. "Like giving up?" He whispered, unable to hold eye contact. You nodded silently. He got up slowly and walked towards you. At first, you thought he would hug you again but then he started unbuttoning his shirt.

"Uh, Sherlock?"

"Just wait a moment. I want to show you something." He carefully shrugged off the purple shirt that you, admittedly, loved so much and tossed it on the chair. "Only one person knows about this. You will be the second. You remember I told you about Moriarty's network?"

"Yes, the day we met. I asked you about your work, a simple question. And I got an answer that lasted 3 hours." Sherlock chuckled dryly.

"Yeah, sorry about that."

"Oh, no. Please don't apologise. I-" You sighed, rubbing your forehead. "I tend to make jokes when I'm nervous."

"I know." He smiled at you with, yet again, a completely unreadable expression. "You remember though." You nodded, opting to stay silent as he explained. "Well, those 2 years dismantling his network weren't easy. Not physically and certainly not emotionally. As a result of the different missions, I received many wounds on my body in various locations. I was," He paused, took a deep breath, and closed his eyes. "I was depressed, guilt-stricken and suicidal. I figured I had hurt my friends enough. If they thought I was dead maybe I should just go on with it."

"What changed your mind?"

"I didn't want to do it on a mission. I wanted to see home again one more time. So to temporarily relieve the pain I," He sighed. Well, I wouldn't let my wounds heal. I'd pick at them. Mycroft finally convinced me to come back officially because he needed my help. I never told him about this. I think he knows but we don't discuss it." He looked down, obviously embarrassed and feeling more emotionally naked than physically. "You can look," he said. It was as if he'd read your mind. You were trying to be respectful and not stare but you realized that's what he wanted to show you. You had, on occasion, seen him shirtless before but you had never realized how bad some of the scars were.

"Sherlock, I-I don't know what to say. I-" You were completely shocked. Not offended. But actually comforted that he understood you. "Thank you," You finally said.

"Actually I wanted to thank you. I didn't just show you this to prove that I understand your feelings." You looked at him confused. "The day we met. You were leaving work, correct?" You nodded.

"It had been my first day there. John had been happy with my work and requested that I stay assigned to his office permanently. John had already finished up and headed home but there was some paperwork I had to finish so I was leaving about an hour late. Come to think of it, John said he had plans with you that evening. Why were you there?"

"That's what I wanted to tell you. I met you less than a month after I came back. I had still been quite depressed so I was still picking at my injuries. That day had been a bad day for me. So I cancelled my plans with John and I decided to go back to where I started this whole mess and finish it."

"Wait, are you telling me that-"

"You saved my life." Sherlock took one of your hands in his own and held it tightly. "I had memorized the work schedules of most everyone there and knew how to slip in unnoticed."

"But you didn't factor in me."

"Correct. When I ran into you, quite literally in fact, as I was entering the building, I was surprised. Not just by your presence but by what I deduced about you. You intrigued me. I had to find out more about you so I invited you to have a cup of coffee with me."

"Which turned into dinner." Sherlock nodded. "And since you were so intrigued by me, you forgot all about that."

"In a manner of speaking. You weren't a cure-all, mind you. You helped, though, by giving me a new mystery to investigate: you. That night, when I got home, I told John everything. He helped me too and when I mentioned you he couldn't stop singing your praises. He is very proud of you and your work you know."

"Yeah, I guess so," You replied, a little embarrassed. "Thank you, Sherlock. I'm sorry that you went through all that, but, I'm glad I have someone who understands. And I'm glad you're here to help me."

"Me too, Y/N. Me too," He replied.

"Can I, um, can I have another hug?" You asked, blushing and smiling. Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"If you must," He sighed, holding his arms out. Any other day, you would have thought he genuinely didn't want personal contact. But today you realized he was simply teasing. You wrapped your arms around his waist and leaned your head on his chest. You felt him relax as he leaned forward a little to cocoon you in his arms. "I care about you, Y/N. I don't care about many people but you mean so much to me. I-" You looked up at him and pressed a finger to his lips to quiet him.

"You don't have to say it, Sherlock. I know." He smiled and looked somewhat relieved. You knew he wasn't good with feelings and that was fine with you. "I love you too."

"I wanted to be the first one to say that," He pouted. You chuckled softly and booped his nose.

"You already have." He smiled and kissed your forehead lightly.

"I know this won't fix everything right away. I know you'll still have bad days. But I wanted you to know you could come to me too."

"I know. Thank you again, Sherlock." At that moment, John walked in with a bag from the store.

"Oh, hello!" He chirped, happy to see you hadn't gotten into a yelling match. Then he noticed Sherlock's shirt, or rather, lack thereof. "So, uh," He stuttered, unsure of what to say. "What should I do with this?"

"First of all, thank you, John, for giving me the guts to talk to him about this. And second, I think I'll give it a try. You know, to try and prevent a really bad day when you guys aren't available or if talking still isn't enough. But for today I think I'll be alright," You said, turning to John with a smile.

"Well, I'm glad. So did you just talk about that or did he finally tell you that he's had the biggest schoolboy crush on you from the moment he met you?"

"John!" Sherlock yelled. You laughed loudly.

"Not in those words exactly, John," You replied. "Don't worry," You added, turning to Sherlock and ruffling his curls. "Your secret's safe with me."

"Good. Now if you don't mind, I need your input on this case."

"Me?" You asked, quite surprised.

"Yes," He said as if it was obvious. "You're a woman after all!"

"And that is important because?"

"The killer was a woman obviously but I can't understand why she would do it!" The two of you went off into your own little world, completely ignoring John as he cooked dinner.

John: Ok, mates, get your tuxs out. Won't be long now.

Greg: He finally proposed? 😀

John: Not yet, give it a week.

Mycroft: John, you forget I monitor his spending habits.

John: And?

Mycroft: He's had a ring purchased for some time now.

Greg: 3 days tops.💍

Mycroft: I would estimate about 3 days as well, Detective Inspector.

Greg: We're in a Group Text. Talking about our friend like a bunch of teenage girls at a slumber party. I think you can call me Greg.

Mycroft: If I must.

John: So, girls, will you help me make the plans?

Mycroft: Of course. He is blood after all.

Greg: Count me in! Wouldn't miss it! 🕵️👰

Sherlock BBC Taglist

@lucywrites02

@delightfulheartdream

@bartv21

@another-crazy-fangirl

@ladylulu143

@gaitwae

@for-hearthand-home

[wocfics]

Step By Step

Kim Namjoon Series

Arranged Marriage Series

Main Masterlist

KNJ x Poc Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2k+

“Shhh...come on YoungMi, please get some sleep for mommy.” You paced around your daughter’s room while rocking her in your arms. You glanced over at the clock that read 2:43 am and took a deep breath. YoungMi whined and cried quietly in your arms. You knew she couldn’t help it since she was sick and the poor thing couldn’t get sleep. After getting prescribed medicine, the doctor said it should work after a couple of hours but Namjoon, being Namjoon, forgot to give it to her before her bedtime and you were left to fix it. It had only been a few minutes since you gave it to her and she started to quiet down.

Ever since that day at the building, you and Namjoon haven’t been on the best of terms. You avoided him as much as possible, only talking to him when it was related to the child you both shared. You didn’t have long to think about the living conditions since all of your stuff had already been moved in anyways. You did what you had to for your baby, wanting nothing but the nest for her. That was a few months ago, of course and now you had to deal with a sick, crying baby. Although you weren’t talking to Namjoon as much, you were able to figure out his schedule since it was a must. 

5 am- Namjoon wakes up and so does YoungMi

5:30- Namjoon has eaten breakfast while you feed the baby as well and let Namjoon hold her for a while before heading to the studio.

6 am- YoungMi goes back down after being tired from waking up so early and you take a shower.

7 am- You cook yourself breakfast and do any cleaning that wasn’t done the night before while learning Korean through an app and books, with help from Jimin.

7:45- YoungMi wakes up and you get her dressed for the day.

Between 8 am and 10 pm you give MiMi her tummy time so she can learn to crawl, feed her and you make a grocery list for later, make lunch and do laundry.

By 12:30 YoungMi is down for her nap while you eat breakfast and learn more Korean, taking notes.

1:15- MiMi wakes up from her nap and is fed again.

2pm: You and the baby go out to the grocery store and spend some time at the Han River.

5pm: You start cooking dinner and brush up on your studies since you’re still waiting for a few phone calls for your esthetician job.

6pm- You feed MiMi again and turn on soft music for her to listen to while she sits in her bouncer and watches you make dinner. 

7pm- You give MiMi her bath

8pm- You eat and put the rest up for Namjoon

9pm- Namjoon comes home and goes right to spend some time with MiMi before bed while you learn more Korean.

10pm- Namjoon takes another shower and goes to bed while you go to bed in the other bedroom.

You had all of this figured out within the 3 months that you’ve been living together. Sometimes Namjoon will send a text to see YoungMi on his lunch break at the building so you bring her there, but you won’t say a word to him and the boys can tell that there’s a lot of tension between the two of you. They don’t speak on it, since most of them have their own issues going on already with their wives. When you do need a break, Namjoon’s mother, the angel that she is, will take the baby to give you some free time in which you do squeeze in a few sessions with a personal trainer since you wanted to get your body back.

Now, in this room with your daughter slowly falling asleep, you sniffled some since she was starting to make you sick, all from taking care of her. You kissed her head a few times, rocking back and forth. Even if your eyes felt heavy and you wanted to sleep, you knew you couldn’t until she was okay. Motherhood was definitely taking its toll on you and your body but you wouldn’t give her up for anything. It was hard, but you knew you could do it and even if you and Namjoon didn’t see eye to eye he was a great dad, a little forgetful but great to MiMi. 

Laying her down in her crib and placing a blanket over her, you walked over to the humidifier in her room and filled it with more water, turned it on and walked back to your own room. Hearing the other door open, you froze and turned to see Namjoon coming out of the room, shirtless and wearing boxers while scratching his chest and staring at you. “She okay? I heard her crying.” He grumbled. God, why does his voice have to be so deep and sexy at this hour? If you didn’t hate him so much right now you would probably be pregnant again. You hadn’t gotten laid since the night your daughter was conceived but you were sure he got his fill while you suffered.

“She’s fine now, you forgot to give her the medicine she was supposed to take hours ago.” He cursed and rubbed his face. “I forgot...I’m sorry. Hectic day and-” “It’s taken care of now, just go back to bed.” You cut him off, not really in the mood to hear what he had to say. Closing your door behind you, taking a deep breath, you sat on the edge of your bed and rubbed the back of your neck and that’s when your door opened and in walked Namjoon, closing it behind him and clasping his hands together. Was he for real? Right now at this hour and still wearing boxers? 

“Y/N...we need to talk about this now. It’s been months and this is getting ridiculous. I know we don’t know much about each other but we do have a daughter together and I would like for us to get along for her sake. There’s an award show coming up and the company wants us to invite the wives, ever since the announcement people have been waiting to see all of you so I need you on this, Y/N, please. There’s already enough stress with this comeback and the new album dropping soon.” He paused for a few seconds and looked at you. “We can talk more about it in the morning, you can even sleep in the bed with me and move your stuff into the room. I want to work this out.” He added. 

He looked like a God when he was begging like this. Blinking a few times, you rolled your eyes twice as hard as he spoke and picked at your pajama shorts before looking up at him. “I want you to apologize. Apologize to me for what you said. You wanted me to stay out of your way, you wanted me to stay in the extra bedroom and not bother you while you work and I gave you exactly what you wanted and now you hate it. I’ve been giving you what you’ve wanted besides this marriage that I had no say in...I just want you to know, that as hard as it is for you it was hard for me too, Namjoon. To be pregnant by myself with no help, drive myself to the hospital and give birth alone and then take care of her for 2 months by myself. No help, just sleeping when she sleeps and eating when she isn’t crying. So, with that, the only thing I want from you is an apology. I’ll fix everything else tomorrow and we can figure something out but I just need you to understand that I’m also overwhelmed too.” You climbed under the blanket and looked at him. 

“Please, let me get some sleep, call your mother in the morning to pick up MiMi and keep her for the day.” Namjoon nodded and gave you a small smile. “This will all work out, I promise. All relationships have obstacles and this is one of many that we will get through. Things will get crazier but I promise I’ll try my best for both of you. Um, goodnight, Y/N.” He nodded his head once again before leaving the room.

Great, now you were stuck staring up at the ceiling and thinking about what he just said. Clearly he needed to redeem himself and you could tell he felt guilty about what you went through while being alone and pregnant. Also, you had forgotten about the award show and even the whole announcement. You stayed away from most of your social media except for Instagram, which you kept extremely private and you wouldn’t dare to go on Twitter even though you had thousands of notifications. What were you gonna wear to this award show anyways?

You and the other wives had your fittings in one dressing room, all matching colors with your husband, your color was gold. You were placed in a short dress, black with gold details, the back was only slightly low and the dress itself stopped at your mid thigh, almost feeling like a second skin. Your jewelry was gold as well, a few rings, earrings, a gold diamond choker and a a bracelet. Your shoes were black, keeping those simple. You did your own hair, keeping your curls but less volume and did a simple smokey eye with a brown lip. 

You waited with the other wives, quietly talking amongst them and taking in how beautiful they all were. Jin’s wife was last to get ready, being the diva that you thought she was but once you all were ready, you waited for the boys. Looking over your fresh manicure that you were not used to having, you played with the rings on your fingers while the boys walked out, all dressed in their own style of suits but they matched the dresses overall. Namjoon stared at you, his eyes looking over your body and you glared at him before getting into the vehicle that was to escort all of you to the red carpet.

The amount of cameras and people that were on the red carpet was overwhelming. You weren’t ready at all but Namjoon, kept you next to him, holding your hand while you all walked and waited to take pictures. The screams were insane, your body tensed up every now and then but you kept a small smile on your face while posing and taking pictures. While the boys spoke, you and the other wives took a few photos together, it was weird that people knew your names and asked you to turn and take photos for them. 

Each couple had their interview, which thankfully you didn’t have to speak much and Namjoon did almost all of the talking. He led you inside, his hand on your lower back and waved at a few people. Once inside, you walked to your seats. “Are you okay?” Namjoon asked and you nodded, confused as to why until you heard the fans from afar, some cheering and others yelling bad things at you and the other wives. Scrunching your eyebrows, you held Namjoon’s hand and squeezed it while staring at the stage as they got things together. 

At one point during the show, the boys got up, more than once to accept awards and then to perform. You sat next to Jimin’s wife who was on your right, dancing in your seats to most of the songs and grinning when the boys performed. The whole night was something you never thought you would have the luxury of being in. The idols were nice, at least most of them, some of them didn’t take the time to say hi but it didn’t bother you. You knew why but you didn’t let it ruin your night.

The boys were phenomenal, winning so many awards that even they were shocked. Although it was long, it finally ended and you were able to go home. As Namjoon walked over to you, sweat on his face, you grabbed a napkin and patted it away for him, fixed his collar and jumped when you heard someone behind you call his name. Jackson Wang, of Got7. He jogged over to you two and briefly spoke to Namjoon, asking him to come to the after party. 

Within the two weeks that you moved back into the main bedroom, worked out your schedules and your daughter got over her cold, things were looking better. The fandom was still shaken up, but on your end, this was what you wanted for your daughter, a great life and even greater parents. 

You nodded to Namjoon, seeing as he was looking at you for confirmation for the after party. Of course, you would be going with him since Jackson insisted. 

The after party was a different atmosphere, more relaxed than the award show. There were drinks, actual food and music playing. The building in which it was being held was beautifully decorated, red carpeting and a chandelier in the middle of the room. The first thing you did was grab a glass of wine and took a sip while Namjoon introduced you to a few people. Jackson made his way back over. “You made it and you brought your beautiful wife.” He cheered and finished his glass of whatever he was drinking and held out his hand to you. He kissed the back of your hand and you full on smiled, giggling. “Wow, Namjoon-ah, you really outdid it. She’s so beautiful. Your dress is amazing.” He commented towards you and you thanked him as he spun you around.

From the corner of your eye, you can see Namjoon’s jaw tighten visibly and he pulled you back to his side and stared down at you. Jackson was still holding onto your hand, looking over your rings and showering you in compliments, your face was burning from it all and Namjoon took your now empty glass from you and went to get you another one.

“So how does it feel to be Mrs. Kim Namjoon, huh? Where did you two meet and how come I didn’t see you first?” He joked and you laughed, explaining that you met in California a little over a year ago. You let go of his hand as he talked about his music and the trips he had lined up, you noticed Namjoon standing by the bar, watching you, carefully and you hugged Jackson goodbye, his hands rubbing your back before letting go.

Once you were in front of Namjoon, he leaned down to your ear. “We’re leaving now.” He ordered and grabbed your hand, pulling you with him out of the building and towards the car that was waiting for you. He sent a quick text and the other members came piling into the car with you and you all drove off.

You didn’t know what caused this sudden change in character for him but something told you he was angry about whatever it was. Maybe Jackson being too friendly or maybe he just wasn’t feeling well. Whatever it was, you were gonna ask him once you two got home anyways.

[vetisntdead]

Murder, By Internet

From the vets behaving badly blog

Feb 24, 2014

I apologize in advance for the length of this, but the story is a bit involved, and I believe illustrative.

Blood ran down my arm, across the back of my hand, and dripped onto the exam table. I stood there quietly taking the verbal abuse from an outraged pet owner, my hands resting on the metal surfaced table. It's better to let them rave themselves breathless rather than trying to interrupt. Ya learn this after a while. Once they've spewed their piece, they eventually stop to take a breath. Then they are not talking. No one can listen when they are talking. It's an A/B switch kinda thing.

I'm pretty thin skinned. Don't mean by this that I'm overly-sensitive. Far from it. Nah, I'm just old. Skin gets thinner when you get old, so when the dog rakes you with those front toenails little furrows appear, followed shortly by that red stuff. And when you follow the physician's advice and take those little aspirin daily, this inhibits platelet aggregation. Oh sorry. Big words, This means you bleed with enthusiasm from little furrows.

I learn from such encounters, even after all these decades of playing this game. I listened intently to the young man, occasionally glancing over at his embarrassed wife. I wanted to learn what he thought I'd done incorrectly. She was dumbfounded by his tirade. I was a mite taken aback myself, but I too stood there taking it in.

By the time he finished, it was completely obvious that I need not try to respond. Why waste the oxygen? This guy had it all figured out, and reality had nothing to do with our little predicament. The first words out of his mouth when he had entered the exam room with his dog, “We didn't like the last vet”, would be the first words out of his mouth at the next veterinary practice. Nothing I had to say was going to change that.

I shook my head and turned away, ignoring that little bit of his spittle hanging off his lower lip. I left him puffing in the exam room. Time to bandage the arm again.

“We should have listened to your internet reviews.”

Yeah, you should have. Thought it but didn't say it. I don't read my reviews, No point in that. But someone, (the mayor of our little city) had mentioned those reviews just the week before. Apparently next to all the good ones were two rather nasty ones. I figured I knew what those were about, and when I replied the mayor simply nodded.

One was a young woman who was incensed when I excused her dog before my exam could even begin. It had something to do with not being able to touch her vicious little dog. Her boyfriend had screamed into my face that I get paid to get bit, and I took some small exception to that bit of misinformation.

The second bad review concerned another client who announced as she entered the exam room, (yep, another who didn't like her last vet) that she was dissatisfied with the dose of the pain killing drug the last doctor had prescribed for her cat, so she had raised the dose without asking if this was appropriate.

The second sentence out of her mouth was to demand from me more of the drug, long before I had the opportunity to become familiar with the animal's condition, the history and the physical exam. I didn't jump at this opportunity for a fast sale, in as much as this was a controlled substance, and prudence suggests we not simply supply these to the public .

Numerous other demands poured from this woman's mouth with each new statement she made. And then the complaints as I began my exam. I was to do it the way she required and how dare I do it my way. I smiled and continued my exam. She continued to rail against every single thing I did. I smiled again.

Goodbye.

The mayor has been a client of mine for roughly thirty years, so I don't know why he consulted those on line reviews, but I'll get back to this thought later.

Anyway, the young couple and their dog entered my exam room. It was a busy Saturday morning and we were completely booked. We'd set aside the usual 15 minute slot for what should have been a routine visit. The chart hinted at an ear problem, and they needed a rabies vaccination. I greeted them in my usual ingratiating fashion. I'm a heck of a nice person after all. The dog was about 45 pounds of one and a half year old mix-breed.

Warning #1: “We didn't like the last vet.”

#2: Dog is wearing a harness rather than a collar. This is where self-preservation kicks in. It's kinda like how you feel when the guy walks into the convenience store wearing a ski mask. Maybe he just has bad acne, but ya still watch em closely.

#3: I get down into my squat that I use to greet every dog that comes into my exam room. This is diplomacy in the dog world. It invites the dog to come over and make friends. It often begins the process that defuses doggie anxiety in the vet's office. It makes the job easier. The friendly dogs just love it. The clients love it. And I really enjoy the dogs. This dog approaches to a four foot distance, stares at me, raises it's lip about a half inch, and then runs behind the man.

#4: “The last vet took a foxtail out of his ear.” When was this? “Last July.” OK, that's foxtail season. Seems reasonable. “But it didn't get better.” (Seemed he intimated that the other vet faked taking a foxtail out of the ear. Heard that nonsense before, too)

OK, how long has he had this ear infection? “I don't know.” Well, how old was he when you first noticed it? “He was about 7 months old.” So, about last February. And it's been infected ever since? “Yes. It didn't get better after the last vet treated it.”

Small wonder. Ears infected for a year, treated once, didn't get better. We gonna need more than 15 minutes for this.

Dog had erect ears, so from across the room I could see a bit of the inside of the ears. They were pigmented black. Bad sign. Usually takes years of neglect before the ears turn black. Turning black is scaring from chronic inflammation, and it portends other damage that is not only permanent but often requires what we call salvage surgery to keep the dog from suffering needlessly. Poor dog's owners clearly lacked the clue.

The young woman showed me the crinkled flattened tube of ear infection medicine. It contained plenty to treat the ears for the usual 10-14 day treatment. “We've been using this ever since, and he didn't get better.”

Sigh.

Without understanding the reasons for chronic or recurring ear infections in dogs, the poor owners who are treating these ears are unlikely to get it right. No knock on owners ( this time), but when not handled correctly such infections often turn into disasters, and even when handled correctly they are often not cured, but merely managed. The sun comes up in the east, and some dog ear infections are extremely challenging to treat. That's just how it is.

Educating pet owners is the single most important thing veterinarians do. This is how we best help the animals. It is critical. It prevents a lot of the preventable disasters. It is also the most challenging aspect of the job. (there he goes, picking on pet owners again) So I spent a half hour explaining the basics to this young couple. My receptionist stopped by to wag two fingers in my face. The next two clients were already waiting. But I was getting somewhere with these two and I didn't want to stop. They seemed to be learning.

Now you might wonder why I still hadn't examined this dog. Normally, this would precede the education part, but I like to give the fearful dogs time to become accustomed to the room and me, and it gives me time to defuse some of the anxiety or hostility residing in the owners, for they set these dogs off by how they react. So I laid on the whole lesson, going back over each concept in different ways when they didn't understand. I'm good at this. Done it for decades. Most clients thank me once they figure things out. I made my other clients wait while investing important time with this couple. It began to feel as if we might make this work.

The time arrived when I would try to examine the dog. Prospects for this hadn't improved much. The dog still would not come over to sniff me. It had sniffed the entire room, wandered out of the room when the owner didn't pull him back by the leash, but never once approached me. You don't simply reach for a dog behaving like this.

I got into my squat again, and it approached to that same 4 feet, and then headed for the other side of the room. The man holding the leash stood right beside me. His dog was over there, giving me the eye. Silly veterinarians often wonder why the owners don't simply use the leash to pull the dog to them so we can actually do our job. Rarely happens. So after a bit, I reached up and took the leash from his hand, and gently pulled the dog toward me. He stopped at that magic 4 foot distances. A bit more tug on the leash as I entreated the dog to come. Harness goes up and over head, landing limply on the floor. Dog hurries over to stand beside the woman, over there.

I held up the useless and turned to the man. “This is why you don't use a harness. They give you no control over your dog.”

Woman stands next to dog. Doesn't grab his collar. Doesn't try to bring the dog over to me. Man does nothing. Woman speaks, “Maybe I should leave the room. He gets real protective of me.”

Ah...warning #5. I shouldn't need to explain this one.

I turn to look at the man standing next to me. Why don't you go over there, take the dog by the collar, and bring him over here? A novel concept he had apparently not considered.

He squats next to me, dog cradled between his legs, biting part facing out. Perfectly wrong set up for dealing with an untrained fearful dog.

I take collar and pull dog in front of me. He lunges left, he lunges right, he lunges left again. I hold collar. He stops lunging and I turn him to face away and induce him to sit. Soft calming voice, praising him for a sit, petting and scratching his back. He settles a bit. I touch an ear.

Dog lunges left, dog lunges right. For expedience I will not repeat this part over and again. The dog did. Take my word for it. After some considerable time, I give up on examining ears. I turn to look at the man who is still squatting right next to me. No attempt whatsoever to control his own dog.

Your dog really needs a good obedience training course. Not only will it teach him to behave, but it will impart him with some badly needed confidence so he won't misbehave like this. Nothing.

OK, enough wasted time. I give the dog his rabies vaccine, and go to stand up. Dog launches one more time, spinning in a circle, which locks my hand in the collar. Not a good thing if he begins to nibble on my arm. Manage to untangle my hand without injury, but dog rears on his hind legs and rakes my arm with his claws. I know that feeling. I'm done with dog and turn him loose.

I'm washing the blood off my arm when the man launches on me. He doesn't like how I held his dog by the collar. Really? How else does one hold a dog by the collar? Silly me. Took me a bit before I realized that he didn't want the dog held at all. That thing where I always say that the use of a harness is the owner's concession that he has no desire to control the dog at all. That's this guy.

So I stood beside my exam table, bleeding, while he assailed me. And then I walked out of the room, bandaged my arm, and then put on my smile for the next client. Excuse me for trying to help. The day went on, as they have for all these decades.

Will this guy put up a bad review on line? Don't know. Don't care. I don't read reviews. I don't defend myself when a bad one shows up. Don't care. My practice has been growing for decades because satisfied clients send their friends to me, and people who don't like how I try to help their animals are welcome find someone who does it differently. Lot's of ways to skin a cat. (sorry cat lovers)

Does it hurt my feelings after all these years of dedicating my life to helping people and their pets to have someone scream at me like that. Yeah....a little. I got into this profession to help, and I've sacrificed a lot to continue doing this for a lifetime. Mostly it is rewarding. Sometimes it breaks my heart.

So why the longs story? Well, last week a few people killed a veterinarian I know.

Oh, they didn't poke her with a knife or shoot her with a gun. But they killed her.

Shirley was in practice for over thirty years, and although a bit unconventional at times, she was always compassionate, up to date, hard working. She finally got the chance to start her own little practice. On a shoestring, she opened a small place in the city of New York. As all start-ups do, it was a struggle. The economy still sucked. The weather sucked. The likely illegal collusion between landlord, banker, contractor and maybe even organized crime nearly bankrupted her. But it took crazy cat ladies to kill her.

A feeder of feral cat colonies in the city adopted a cat from a shelter and then turned it loose in a city park, in the snow and the 2014 winter, to struggle on its own. This lady thinks this is good for cats. Some friends of hers brought the sick cat to Shirley for a medical problem, but of course declined most everything necessary due to cost. So as she had done in the past, Shirley asked them to surrender their cat so she could care for it and then try to find it a nice home. Because they could not provide properly for the cat, they agreed. Later, the woman who had turned the cat loose in the park showed up to claim the cat, and Shirley refused. She didn't want to see the cat abandoned again. And she didn't at that point even know who owned the cat. For she had been duped into believing the first two people owned it.

That's when it started. Vicious evil people have the same voice on the internet as the rest. An organized assault on Shirley began on the net. An on-line blog that specializes in character assassination zeroed in on her. Protesters with signs lined the street in front of her hospital, and had to be removed from her clinic by the police. People who had no idea of the facts hopped on board with the mob because the evil rich veterinarian deserved it. They were vicious, conscienceless, and evil. But they got their wish.

Shirley killed herself the other night.

And the vermin on the blog celebrated, cheering her death in their posts.

Ask any veterinarian out here. This hurts us. So I guess they win.

[sarahaltmanposts]

Chemo Step By Step

June 27, 2018

I was always curious if chemo was really the way it appears in the movies.  Was it painful?  Did you feel the drugs going in?So I thought I’d share my experience with chemotherapy.

My infusion is done at my Oncologist’s office, not a cancer center.  My Oncologist a great guy who doesn’t use too much Doctor talk to keep it real. And he always seems pretty chill, which under the circumstances is very calming.  

Although he’ll check in on me, on infusion days I go to the back of the offices where the nurses run the place. They’re all really great, but I’ll save that for another blog.  There’s a chemo room where several people can get infusions at the same time.  It has a wall of windows that looks out to the busy LA streets. There are also some private infusion rooms.  Depending on availability and which I prefer determines where I’ll end up.  Today I got room 6 - the private infusion room. I get weighed, blood pressure,  temperature and blood taken and all my information is entered in the computer because it will inform the dosage of medicine for the day.  When all the numbers are confirmed, the nurse requests to get my medicines released from a pharmacy-like area in the office.  

While that’s going on, I’m connected to an IV through the port in my chest.  The nurse pops the needle into this tiny device placed under my skin on my chest.  I don’t feel it at all.

From this point forward, everything is given to me through IV in my port.  First I receive several pre-medications (Emend, Decadron, Kytril) that will (please G-d) help with nausea.  I’m also given fluids to make sure I stay hydrated. This process takes about an hour.

Once that’s completed, the nurse shows up with a huge syringe of a red liquid that looks almost like cool-aid. (It kinda reminds me of the old cartoons where Bugs Bunny shows up in scrubs and a big ‘ole syringe!) She then manually pushes the Adriomycin (also known as the red devil) into my IV. This is done manually to make sure it goes in slowly and evenly so I won’t have an adverse reaction- it’s some potent stuff! I have ice in my mouth during this part of the process in hopes of avoiding getting sores in my mouth, one of the side effects of Adriomycin. This takes about 20 minutes.

None of this hurts at all, by the way.  I sit comfortably in the chair and chat with the nurses about all the various things going on in our worlds.

The next drug, Cytoxin, is hung in an IV bag and infused over another 40 minutes or so.  During that time, I just chill.  I’ve found that it helps to picture the medicine as a magic healing potion going into my body.  But even with that, I’m aware that I’m trying to fool my mind and distract myself from the intensity of what is going into my body. I put my headphones on and listen to some good ‘ole 80’s music.

Once I’ve finished receiving the Cytoxin and other fluids, my port gets disconnected.  The only thing left is to have a small box that contains Neulasta attached to my arm. This part is actually kinda cool. It’s a little device that will release a white blood cell booster medicine into my body 24 hours after my infusion.  It gets attached to my arm and starts beeping and blinking.  After a few seconds a small catheter is inserted into my arm.  It feels like when someone snaps a rubber band on your skin.  For the next 24 hours, a light on the box blinks and at the 24 hour mark, begins to infuse the medicine into my arm over 45 minutes.  Then I can take the box off my arm and throw it away.  Wow- 21st Century stuff for sure!

And that’s it. The whole process takes about three hours.  Without any pomp or circumstance, my infusion is complete and I’m free to head home and wait (dread) to feel the medicines kick in.

I’ve been prescribed a new anti-nausea medicine to try at home this time in hopes that I can avoid the experience of my first infusion.  

And one more thing- by my side- every breath, every step, has been my amazing husband.  He is my love.

\And there you have it- the chemo experience!

In loving,

Sarah

PS- I’m happy to report that I had a much better (I’d say 40%) experience post infusion than the first round.  We changed up a couple things.  I kept the house really cold at 75degrees.  Somehow that helps.  And at the first sign of nausea, I lit up my legally bought marijuana joint. Took 3 puffs and waited to see.  Sure enough, it was helpful at keeping the nausea at bay.  I also to an Ativan at bedtime because it’s side effects are anti-nausea  and am thrilled to share I’ve had my first good night’s sleep in months.  Onward we go!