#atrial flutter

[riiviir]

hey guys I made a T-shirt design for my sister with heart issues, feel free to use it no credit needed!

alt versions bc I couldn't decide whether the heart should be red or not

btw if you want me to make a version with different text at the bottom let me know I'll probably do it

[biology-geology-beaches-india]

TSRNOSS, p 556.

[vigocare0]

Unlock insights into Atrial Flutter, covering symptoms, causes, and effective management approaches. Experience expert guidance and personalized care through VigoCare, a leading Medical Software as a Service (SaaS) platform. Empower healthcare providers (HCPs) to remotely monitor patients' heart health. Learn more at https://vigocare.com/ for proactive Atrial Flutter management.

[danidrawsstuff]

why my activity lookin like a bad heart rhythm rn

[sweetdreamspootypie]

Some patients are very considerate in that they wait for exactly 30 seconds after night shift finishes handover before they go back into atrial flutter tachy 160bpm and triggering another emergency call.

Letting night shift just finish their notes and go home on time? Legend.

We MET called twice within the first 45 minutes of my shift.

[chriscalledmesweetie]

My AO3 2024 Fic Year in Review

But It's a Ten, John! (100 words, M) Some things shouldn't be interrupted, even for a ten.

The Tenth Good Thing About Sherlock (328 words, G) After the Reichenbach fall, John, Lestrade, and Mrs. Hudson try to think of ten good things about Sherlock.

Sherlock and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week (561 words, T) John is away. Sherlock is NOT pleased.

The Case of the Missing Patty-Pan (2,982 words, G) When Mrs. Hudson invites Sherlock to a tea party, his own cleverness gets him into trouble. Fortunately, Dr. Watson is only too eager to come to his rescue.

The Murder of Sir Emory J. Amat (66,146 words, T) A Sherlock Holmes/Agatha Christie fusion, as recounted by Dr. John H. Watson. Can you follow the clues to deduce whodunnit?

The Murder of Major Sayer (12,011 words, T) Do you want to know what really happened during the fateful week when John Watson first met Sherlock Holmes? John’s sister Harry is here to set the record straight—or not, as the case may be.

The Murder of an Illusion (174 words, G) John has told his side of the story, and Harry has told hers. Now, it’s Sherlock’s turn to set the record straight—or not, as the case may be.

John Watson and the Tale of the Bloody Finger (944 words, T) A childhood tale comes back to haunt John.

Call Sherlock! (191 words, G) If you have a case, on Halloween, whatcha gonna do?

Pitter Pat (313 words, G) Is the flutter in John’s heart atrial fibrillation? Or could there be another cause?

Holly Jolly Johnlock Limericks (875 words, T) What it says on the festive tin.

[specialmedicalcentre]

Candace's Complicated Colonoscopy, Part 1

"Well, Candace," Dr. Patel began, after several minutes watching the EKG monitor. "I've got somewhat good news, and some not somewhat good news. Where do you want to start?"

Candace took a deep breath, feeling the EKG electrodes adhered to her chest pull and tug at her skin. It was like wearing a weird kind of shirt. "Hm. The 'not somewhat', I think." She exhaled, and the cardiac monitor over her head beeped irregularly.

Isha Patel looked up at the monitor, noting the momentary arrhythmia. "Actually, that's it, right there. Your AFib is fighting us a little, and I'd like to adjust your meds. I'm going to up the beta blocker and give you a new scrip for amiodarone."

"What's that for? My thyroid?" Candace asked. She was used to having to adjust to new developments, and knew a lot about her condition. This wasn't her first regular checkup.

"No, it's for fibrillation, anti-arrhythmia. It's a change from another med, though, and I think it's a good move. You've been having spells recently, right?"

She was referring to the light-headedness that had been creeping back into Candace's everyday routine. "That's right, yes. Is it stress, do you think?" Candace asked.

"Well, that's the somewhat good news: I think your hypertension is coming under control, finally. Here…" She pressed a button on the monitor, and the cuff on Candace's arm swelled as the inflator buzzed above her. It was tight on her arm, after having already been on the monitors for an hour. With a sudden beep the sweaty cuff deflated, partially peeling itself from her arm as it sagged. "There, 131/95. You're probably a little agitated after all this, but the numbers were better when you were resting."

That is good news, Candace admitted to herself. Maybe things could get better.

"Once we got your Graves' disease figured out last year, it was only a matter of time before we dialed in the meds. Just have to keep swinging," Dr. Patel smiled, patting Candace on her leg through the thin drape that covered her.

It was cold in the cardiac lab, and Candace involuntarily shivered from the contact. The shiver quickly became an emptiness, and her head swam. A sudden rapid chaotic beeping came from the monitor over her head, and she broke out in a sweat, beads popping up all over her chest. She felt flushed, and she felt like she would fall even deeper into the exam bed. Dr. Patel noticed immediately, and began another BP measurement cycle.

"Is it an event, Candace? Like before?" Dr. Patel placed her stethscope into her ears and firmly pressed it above Candace's breast. Candace was trying to breathe through it; she felt like she was going to wet herself as the room spun and went fuzzy. Her abdomen had a sharp pain in it. "Breathe through it, honey." Dr. Patel said, with absent irony, looking up at the monitor as she listened to Candace's heart.

"I…huhhhh…I am," Candace gasped, wanting to roll her eyes. They were almost rolling on their own.

Beeeeep. "Hm, 85/65. That should be the bottom, honey, keep breathing. Do you want some O2?"

Candace shook her head, managing herself through the Afib episode. She'd had a lot of practice.

More than a year before, Candace had been having fainting spells and chest pains and couldn't work out why she didn't have the energy to accomplish even simple tasks. At 24 years old, she had assumed she was invincible, as all young people do. Terrified of the idea of a heart attack at her young age, she finally saw an urgent care doctor, and the clinic recommended her to Isha Patel at SMC, who quickly worked out the mystery. Candace had hypertension, and pretty bad, due to un-diagnosed Graves' disease, a hyperthyroid disorder that ran mostly silently in her family. Worse, years of untreated high blood pressure had damaged her heart, leading to a kind of arrhythmia called atrial fibrillation - AFIb. Candace's heart was constantly fluttering, uselessly, pumping at a fraction of its proper efficiency, leaving her tired, weak, and at risk of stroke. And it would happen when she was stressed, tired, dehydrated, hadn't eaten well…pretty much for any reason.

That's when Dr. Patel started fixing things, and she was still at it. By now Candace felt like an expert, too.

Candace began to breathe normally as her AFib settled down by itself. It didn't always do that - Dr. Patel was right, it was somewhat-but-not-mostly better.

"Better now, honey?" the doctor asked. She took the steth from her ears and rubbed the skin of Candace's chest where her steth bell had left a mark. "Sorry."

"Yes, much better, thanks. So the new meds will fix that?"

Dr. Patel nodded, slowly. "That's what I'm hoping." Smiling, she looked down at her digital tablet, tapped a few things. "So…you were also complaining about abdominal distress this time, right? I'd like to talk about that."

Candace levered herself up on her elbows, maneuvering upward in the exam bed a little from where she'd slumped during the episode. The cuff dragged at her skin. "Okay, sure."

Dr. Patel started typing as she talked. "Does it come and go with the episodes?"

"No," Candace said, shaking her head.

"Mm-hmm. How about wetting? I know that happens, sometimes, when you have syncope. Do you have abdo pain at those times?" Tapping and typing.

"…no." Candace had to think about that one. "They're not really connected." She was aware, then, that she had wet herself a little in the exam bed. She began to flush in embarrassment, but regulated herself quickly…she didn't want another episode.

"How about constipation?"

"Yep. Sometimes. I kinda thought that was the meds." Candace suggested.

"Ehhh, I don't know. The thyroid management might be doing that, but if you've only had the pain and constipation for…" tapping, tapping… "a few weeks now, I think it's unlikely. You've been on the thyroid meds for a year."

Candace was thoughtful about that. And a little worried. "So…"

"So - what I think is that I'd like to schedule you for a colonoscopy, and soon. Can you do Monday?" Dr. Patel asked, looking at SMC's online procedure calendar.

Candace's stomach dropped, which actually made the discomfort worse. "Uh, really? A colonos…Monday is only two…ish days away. And it's the New Year, and…" she trailed off.

"Candace." Dr. Patel spoke earnestly. "Have I ever steered you wrong?" It was a rhetorical question, and she knew it. "This has to happen; I'm not about to let something slip by us - we have to face it. One two three, we'll clear things up. And clean you out, incidentally, which might help." Dark humor.

"Ugh," Candace moaned. Being so young, she didn't think she'd have to deal with this. But then, AFib was also a surprise. "But…I'm only 25."

Dr. Patel nodded, understandingly. "Yes. And you've got complications, Candace. Let's take a look and get it done."

The EKG monitor was beeping regularly, which filled Candace with hope. "Okay, fine. Monday. How - I mean, where?"

Dr. Patel was already tapping away. "The Pelvic Department, just on the other side of the main waiting room. 6am Monday. The charge nurse will give you the details. Oh, and...I think you'd better plan for an overnight."

"That's really early, Doc, I...uh..." Candace stammered for a second. "Did…did you say overnight? What for?"

The doctor cleared her throat, and looked at Candace. "Honey, your AFib is serious business, and that complicates almost everything about your care. We'll want to make sure this gets done right and you're monitored the whole time."

Candace definitely didn't know what this was about, anymore. "Don't I just like, poop it all out then come in empty and…and they do it and we're done?" She was confused.

"Well…" the doctor began, "it's a little more complicated for you. We'll start in the morning, get you set up, then take it from there. I'll get you started and will check in on you. And the team over there is top notch, so don't worry about a thing. It's regular stuff for them."

"Do not tell me I have to…poop it all out here. Do not tell me that." The EKG beeps were getting closer together.

Dr. Patel touched Candace's arm, kindly. "This is what we have to do, Candace. You can do this. I'll see you Monday." She got up, taking another look at the monitor. "The charge nurse will be in and she'll get you unhooked and all cleaned up."

And she walked out of the exam room, leaving Candace alone with her imagination.

=====

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[thewulf]

My Whole Heart || Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw

Summary: Request - Hi, I'm not sure if it's okay to drop an idea, but I'll try. it would be a Rooster one where you're a happy couple but recently you're feeling unwell but dont tell Bradley. ... Read Rest Here

A/N: This is just cute and sweet! As always thank you for the req anon!!

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Y/N

Word Count: 2.1k +

You were up in the air training next to your boyfriend when you felt it. It felt like your heart started fluttering. It didn’t hurt but it didn’t feel right either. You felt short of breath as you asked to land using your stomach as an excuse for what your heart was doing.

Bradley ran over to your jet once you parked it in the Hanger, “You okay beautiful?” He asked brushing the loose hairs out of your face. Your normally perfect bun getting jostled by the helmet you had on.

You nodded quickly giving him a lopsided grin, “I think it’s just some bad Chinese we had last night.” You gripped your stomach in excuse trying to make it look semi-believable.

He frowned taking your shoulders guiding you towards the locker rooms, “Call if you need anything, okay baby?”

You nodded quickly feeling that flutter again, “Sure thing babe.” You kissed his cheek before scurrying off into the locker room.

Short of breath you clutched your chest breathing slow. What the fuck? It wasn’t a heart attack; you knew that much. It felt like a butterfly was buzzing instead of the steady rhythm you were so used to prior. Shakily you pulled your phone out calling your Doctor’s office outside of the base. You could go to medical on base, but you’d be grounded, and you couldn’t have that. Not now.

The office told you to come in immediately or head to the closest hospital. Must be bad. You groaned knowing you’d have to lie to your loving boyfriend. Just a little white lie you decided. After catching your breath, you walked out in your changed clothing. Bradley stood there with a concerned expression when the door swung open.

“Feeling any better?” He asked as your wrapped your arms around his abdomen.

You nodded in his chest not really caring if anybody walked by, just wanting to hold him for a second, “Much better, thank you.”

He kissed the top of your forehead, “Let’s get out of here my love.”

You smiled hesitantly before letting him go, “Yeah, I’ll meet you at your place? Need to run a few errands really quick. Mom’s birthday is next week, and I promised Sean I’d mail out her gift before it passes.” It wasn’t a complete lie. You were going to stop by the Doctor and then drop off the gift sitting in the back of your car.

He smiled, “Your brother is lucky he’s got you.”

You nodded in agreement, “He sure is.” He walked you to your car giving you a quick kiss bidding you farewell for a little bit. Your nerves only started to get to you once you pulled in.

“Atrial Fibrillation…” Your doctor went on explaining what it was and what triggered it. You listened taking mental notes. You were hooked up to an IV taking medicant that was knocking your heart rate back into rhythm. It apparently hadn’t been that bad because it only took about twenty minutes before you physically felt better.

“Can I still fly?” You asked, almost terrified for his answer.

He nodded, “I don’t see why not. I wouldn’t go pulling extreme G’s anymore, but you should be just fine. Just remember the triggers.” You nodded. He mentioned stress. That was kind of hard to avoid. You’d have to figure that one out.

You thanked him before heading out to drop off the package. How were you going to tell Bradley? He was going to lose his damn mind at this one. You’d just keep it quiet until you thought of something. Anything.

You snuggled into his side tightly that night making sure to reiterate how much you loved him, “Love you handsome man.” You kissed his chest before nuzzling him. Listening to the steady rhythm of his healthy heart as you drifted off.

“You feeling alright?” Bradley asked as the two of you exited the gym. Maverick had been in a particularly bad mood after the entire class failed to complete a maneuver. The weight room it was. You were taxed. And now you had to go up in the air again, one more round before you’d be free for the night.

“Mhmm.” You nodded not feeling great. Crap, what were all the triggers? Stress? Was exhaustion one of them? Just focus on your breathing, it’d be alright. Just fine.

“Baby.” He stopped you by placing his much larger body front of you. Gently he placed his hands on your shoulders, “You don’t look so good.” His eyes scoured your pale yet clammy face.

You tried shaking him off, but the lack of energy was making it difficult, “I’m fine B. Mav just kicked my ass is all.”

He didn’t let his hands go as his face fell. He knew you. Heart and soul. That happened after two very happy years of dating. He’d seen you zapped after a particularly hard work out and you’d never looked like this. Your face would go beat red, not ghostly white.

Your heart fluttered. Damn, there it was. It was an uneasy feeling. Like you couldn’t breathe deeply enough. Like air was just a bit harder to grasp.

“Babe.” He stopped you from moving again, “You’d tell me if you didn’t feel alright? I’m here to help you. You know that. Whatever it is.” He was starting to get nervous. Were you pregnant? You didn’t hate kids, but you didn’t want them either. Was it cancer? He’d help you through that. He just needed to know so he could help.

You knew Bradley wasn’t going to let you go unless you gave him something better than that. He knew you way better than that. If there was one thing that was true it was that Bradley Bradshaw was anything but stupid. He was quite intelligent and one of the most observant people you’d ever met.

It probably wasn’t too smart to go up in the air right now anyway. You weren’t feeling great. You were fatigued. Exhausted beyond your limit. You had to tell him. You couldn’t keep it from him any longer.

You sighed before diving into what you knew. He only nodded and frowned letting you know he was listening, he just wanted you to finish before he talked, “… I’m sorry for keeping it from you. I just, I was trying to figure it out.”

He dropped a hand from your shoulder quickly grabbing one of your hands, “Baby, that’s what I’m here for. To help you figure this out. I’m so fucking sorry if I didn’t make you feel like you could tell me. Please tell me these things. Anything. I want to hear anything you think. Anything you feel. I want to feel you. I love you.” He kissed your forehead after making sure the coast was clear.

You shook your head quickly, “Don’t you dare blame yourself B.” You squeezed his hand back, “It’s me. I’m so used to doing things on my own. I didn’t even realize. I’m so sorry. I love you so much.”

He nodded, “Talk to me going forward. I’m here for you.”

“I will. I promise.” You went in for a hug. A hug you desperately needed in that moment.

“I’m going to go talk to Mav. You wait by the car okay? If I’m not out in five give me a call baby, okay?” He raised an eyebrow waiting for your response.

“Sure. Yeah.” You agreed. Who cared? You’d be fine. You’d hold your place. It was an afternoon off.

Bradley was back in three, smiling from ear to ear, “Let’s go home and relax sweetheart, how does that sound?” He asked once the both of you were seated in his truck.

You nodded scooting closer to him on the bench seat, “Sounds perfect B.”

The two of you spent the afternoon rotating between snacking, sleeping, and giggling. Your absolute favorite way to spend time with the boy you got to love on. Your limbs intertwined as you watched some random season of Survivor. The two of you guessing if you’d be able to do the challenge of not. You promised you’d enter him in for a season since he was Mr. Confident over there.

He got serious after a commercial interrupted the gameplay the two of you were so focused on. Placing bets on your favorite players, “You know I’d rip my heart right in half and give it right to you if I could?” he asked looking down at you with all the love dripping right from his eyes. Your very own heart sped up at that look that you’d grown to adore over the years you’d been together. Each and every time he gave it to you it only felt more right. How lucky were you? To be in love with your best friend.

You nodded nuzzling your head into his chest, “I know. Trust me B, I know.” You kissed his chest never growing tired of the close physical contact he’d granted you so long ago. That was your love language, physical touch. Bradley knew it and let you have it, all of it. As uncomfortable as he was with it at first he’d grown to love the quick touches and soft caresses you’d always seem to give him. You’d broken down every last wall he so perfectly constructed after both his father and then mother died on him.

“You’re my whole heart Y/N.” He kissed the top of your head while running his spare hand down your spine. He relished in the goosebumps that erupted underneath the flimsy tank top you’d had on. Your eyes closed as you took a mental snapshot of the precious moment you shared between the love of your life. Special moments you cherished beyond belief.

You lifted your head from his chest to look back up into those big beautiful brown eyes, “And you are my whole heart too. Defective as it is.” You giggled already wanting to make light of the situation. It was treatable. You’d be fine. You were loved and cherished. You had the love of your life holding your hand walking the path with you. What more could you ask for?

He tisked, leaning down and kissing the tip of your nose, “I love your perfectly defective heart.”

You snorted shaking your head gently, “That’s an oxymoron Bradley.”

He rolled his eyes, “Who cares. You’re perfect the way you are sweetheart. I love you. Pease don’t ever hide something like that from me again though, I’m here for you every step of the way.” He leaned down giving you a sweet kiss on the lips not daring to take it any further in fear of kicking your heart into A Fib. You’d never hear the end of those jokes if he did though.

After he backed off you nodded in response, “I’m sorry. I just freaked out. It was so dumb.” You sighed embarrassed for your own actions. It sounded so stupid out loud.

“’S okay baby.” He lazily grinned squeezing you at the hip, “I get it. But you have to remember it’s not just you anymore. I’m here. For the good. The bad. The ugly. And your worst. All of it baby.”

Your smile could light up a thousand rooms that’s how good he made you feel, “I don’t deserve you Bradley Bradshaw.”

He shook his head wrapping both his arms around your middle pulling you as close as you could be to him, “Hardly sweetheart. You’re everything and more. All that I want and need. More than I could ever ask for. It’s you and me.” He kissed you once more letting your hands wander all over his body. As much as he wanted too he knew he couldn’t. Not until your heart was figured out. He refused to be the reason you were hurting.

Reluctantly, he pulled back admiring your stare. You too were deeply in love with the man. All the love seeped out of your eyes through those blown out pupils and deeply blushing cheeks. Bradley got every emotion to bubble right to the surface exposing you right down to your core.

You leaned your head to his chest listening to the steady rhythm of his chest. A sound you’d grown to find comfort in over the years, “I love you Bradley.”

“I love you too baby.” He kissed your head once more, “Now sleep. Doctors’ orders.”

You nodded letting the darkness take over, “If the doc ordered it, guess I have to.”

You fell asleep the soft vibrations of the gentle chuckle that left his body. No matter what state you were in you never ceased to amaze him. He couldn’t wait to take the next step with you. To make you his wife. That was next. Certainly soon.

Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!): @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @mayhemmanaged

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Five Fics Friday: November 8/24

Happy Friday everyone!! I hope you all had a good week, and enjoy the fics I've picked out for you today! PLUS make sure you give the boosted fic some extra love!

Cheers!!

SIGNAL BOOSTING

Wasteland, Baby by LoloLolly (M, 23,115 w., 5 Ch. || Post S4, Parentlock with Rosie, Sherlock Whump, Character Injury, Kidnapped / Tortured Sherlock, Canon-Typical Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Unspoken Feelings, Happy Ending) – Things hadn’t felt right in 221B since John and Rosie moved back in. Everything was off. Wrong. If only Sherlock knew it was about to get even worse. But, for vegetation to return to a barren wasteland, rain from thunderstorms is necessary. A brushfire, even, to burn away the old and provide nourishment for the new… and to expose a truth that’s been present all along.

RECENT MFLs

Pitter Pat by ChrisCalledMeSweetie (G, 313 w., 1 Ch. || Fluff, Humour) – Is the flutter in John’s heart atrial fibrillation? Or could there be another cause?

All Souls by Calais_Reno (T, 2,417 w., 1 Ch. || Halloween, Kidnapped John, Angst, Worried Sherlock, Supernatural Elements, POV Sherlock) – The place next to me, where he used to sleep, was cold. But in the still darkness, I could hear him breathing. Steady, dependable, in and out.

Whispers of Highgate by standbygo (M, 4,913 w., 1 Ch. || Supernatural Elements, Skeletons, Corpses, All Saint's Day, Pre-Slash, Telepathy) – During his hiatus, Sherlock is chased into the Paris Catacombs, with unexpected consequences.

The Luckiest Girl in the World by Lock_John_Silver (T, 24,009 w., 31 Ch. || Post-S4, Older Rosie, Childhood Memories, POV Rosie, Developing Johnlock, Humour, Tutoring, Martial Arts, Love Confessions, Excursions, Pet Names, BAMF Rosie, Halloween, BAMF John, Protective Sherlock, Summer Vacation, Weddings, Sherlock and Bees, Protective Mycroft, Meeting the Family, Young Love, Pride Parades, Speeches, Pregnancy, Retirement/Sussex, Family Dynamics) – Rosie thinks back to the day her and John's life changed because of Sherlock Holmes.

[an-ant-hill]

i just realised if i officially changed my name to antonio and added the middle names i want as well, my autograph—if i wanna do it in the same style as my current one—would look like an EKG of someone with an atrial flutter

[whitebalverines]

This is Ambrose, pretty boy supreme 💛❤️

Baron Ambrose de Ros was born in Belvedere, Kent on June 12th, 1869, but grew up in London and currently resides there. He grew up sheltered and sickly, and was promised to a childhood friend, Daphne Fitzwilliam. He doesn't hold any romantic feelings for Daphne, as he's interested in men exclusively, but is afraid to try and break off the engagement.

Shortly after his 24th birthday, his mother revealed that his family had been cursed by witches due to his grandfather's carelessness, and now the first born son of every generation has a curse of the heart, which causes symptoms similar to atrial flutter, and leads to death.

He falls in love with Levin Priestly, but due to the era and his engagement, they have to keep it a secret, though he's pretty forward about his disdain for marrying Daphne.

[b0amagination]

Malfunction

A little treat! I wrote this for an assignment in my creative writing class and it got kinda whumpy :3

They've got names but they're not established characters or anything! So there's no missed context haha we're just in media res.

Content warnings: cyborg whump, medical whump mention, bad caretaking, heart disease mention

Word count: 685

~~~

The entire point of a synthetic heart was to eliminate these sorts of risks. 

Chk-chk-chk-shhhh. Gears stuttered around the hydraulic line that kept it beating, and a spark drilled through his t-shirt. 

“Jamie?” 

“I’m fine,” he huffed. “The usual catch.”

“Like hell! You’re smoking!”

He peeked down. Dirty tendrils curled out of his chest cavity, filtering out through the newly established chimney. The curdling stench of melted rubber trailed with it.

“And why should that matter, Cal? My heart’s already wading in tar.” But Jamie grabbed them by the wrist and stormed into the bathroom.

Chk-chk-shhhhhh. Bag and jacket slammed down onto cracked tiles. His shirt caught on mechanical components.

“Your lungs are still flesh,” Cal said. The bastard leaned their happy ass against the door, content to watch him flail: a feral beast mauling what may have once been associated with a sheep.

“Lungs can’t have arrhythmia.” His voice fluxed and pitched into a squeaky approximation of his doctor’s from within his fabric prison. 

“Whitten’s a moron.”

“The only moron who’s agreed to fix me,” Jamie grunted, the shredded remains of his shirt finally fluttering to the ground. “Would it have killed you to help?”

“It would kill you if he hears this and decides to weigh in on his patient’s dysfunctional state. We don’t need you relying on his shoddy craftsmanship to rip away any more of your humanity.”

“Shut the fuck up, Cal.” 

To their credit, they did, content to rest in the dim glow of old halogen bulbs. Jamie would have appreciated the sterile hum of fluorescents back in the hospital corridor, but his companion wasn’t entirely devoid of logical thought. Arriving broken to an appointment wouldn’t do him any favors with the doctor.

He turned to the mirror where the faux heart smiled back, nestled comfortably between two steel panels where his pectorals had once wasted the precious space. Wan skin stretched in an endless expanse around it. 

Chk-chk-chk-chk-chk-

Jamie’s fist nearly dented the left panel. 

-shhhh.

“What did I say? Faulty machinery.”

Jamie’s fist nearly dented Cal’s left cheek. The wood grain bowed around purpled knuckles. 

“Make yourself useful and open my back panel.”

“Careful.” They snatched the screwdriver before he got creative.  “Whitten will saw that one off next.”

“Good. Maybe I won’t miss next time.”

The screws whined as Cal shimmied them out, already stripped from the last ten times. Oil and grease slithered out when they reached inside for the same loose gear.

“Before I tighten you up…”

“Save it, Calvin,” Jamie spat. 

“No. No, listen to me, dammit!” They squeezed the hydraulic line and simulated beating came to a shuddering halt. “That tick-tick-tick in the upper chamber feels familiar, doesn’t it? You didn’t care to notice, but I studied your heart readings before you let that maniac replace it, and this thing is mimicking your atrial fibrillation. Whitten didn’t fix anything!” Jamie’s fist found its mark. 

“Get your filthy hands out of my chest! This fucking thing keeps me alive, and you think you can use it as leverage to preach your naturalist bullshit?! How about I squeeze the breath from your throat, huh? How high and mighty will you be then?” An open palm pushed Cal back up against the door.

“This isn’t about an agenda, it’s about him!”

“Human hearts can’t be tightened and adjusted.” Each finger clamped down one by one, compressing supple skin. “One little mistake and it’s all over.”

“Is that a threat?” Cal wheezed.

“Stand down, or it will be.”

Chk-chk-chk-chk-shhh. Smoke billowed up between them. 

“Let me be clear,” Jamie continued. “I’d let Whitten pick apart every bone in my body before I let you lay another finger on me.” Cal was flung to the ground, clutching their crushed trachea and retching softly against moldy grout and piss-stained stones. The salt and rot crawled up their tongue.

“Don’t come crawling back when he ruins you too, Jamie.”

He slung his bag over a bare shoulder and dropped the jacket into Cal’s arms. A moment of hesitation, then a wad of saliva splattered across their forehead.

“Keep your sympathy.”

[vigocare0]

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[starlightiing]

what heart condition do you have if its okay to ask? i have one too and sometimes it feels like i'm the only one

Hi hi! It's okay to ask, I'm pretty open about most things.

I have 3 different arrhythmias. Tachycardia (abnormally fast heart rhythm), SVT (superventricular tachycardia - this is an arrhythmia where the heart can suddenly beat 200-230+ beats per minute and irregularly for a short period of time), and suspected A-Fib (not officially diagnosed but it runs in my family, pretty much everyone has it and I'm already showing signs of atrial flutters and PACs and PVCs which makes them think, along with my family history, it's coming).

The PACs/PVCs are the other "arrhythmia" - PACs and PVCs are completely normal (extra beats/skipped beats) and even happen in athletes, it's entirely natural, but I have too many in the span of a day. They've been putting me on and off of heart monitors to try and catch any a-fib and also monitor how bad the PVCs/PACs are to see if I need an ablation.

But right now, the meds they have me on (beta blockers) slow my heart rate down enough that it usually stops most of that tomfoolery. it's not foolproof, I've recently had to have my meds doubled because they just stopped working and my heart was pounding constantly and going out of rhythm and into SVT a lot. It's working for now, but there may come a time where I'll need an ablation because my blood pressure is already low and the beta blockers they have me on lower it even more, and there's only so far they can go.

That was prob more information than you were looking for but you are NOT alone. you are NOT the only one. In the grand scheme of heart conditions, mine is fairly minor and less serious and I'm not sure what you have going on, but even my small arrhythmias really cause me a lot of stress, wear me out, and every time my heart does something stupid it scares the hell out of me so if you're experiencing any of that, I'm sending you a ton of hugs. It's tough. But you're not alone I promise.

[chriscalledmesweetie]

Pitter Pat by ChrisCalledMeSweetie

Is the flutter in John’s heart atrial fibrillation? Or could there be another cause?

[shadowhuntersficrecs]

Chapters: 2/2 Fandom: Shadowhunters (TV), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types, The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood Additional Tags: Christmas, Alternate Universe - Medical, Getting Together, Fluff Series: Part 8 of All I Want For Christmas Is You Summary:

“How can you not like Christmas?” Magnus demanded, outraged. “That’s like not liking pizza!”

Alec shrugged. “Take it or leave it.”

Magnus gaped at him. “What?”

“I don’t like Christmas,” Alec repeated, finally looking up from scrolling through notes on the computer. “Is that a problem?”

***

Alec - the hot, emotionally unavailable paediatrics attending with a jawline Magnus is frequently driven to distraction by - hates Christmas. Magnus thinks this is preposterous, and makes it his mission to prove to Alec that Christmas can be fun.

--

Fluffy Christmas goodness with Malec being absolutely adorable and hopelessly into each other while flirting via bickering. Perfect read for the holiday season!

( @notcrypticbutcoy )