#cardiac arrest tw

[sparkchemy]

Whumptober day 16: Gurney/Flatline

This is a commission for @wintersummer--3232 who wanted to see a modern AU in which Cid is a detective and Clive is an ER staff member and they're dating. One day Cid is gravely injured out in the field. Clive doesn’t know it's Cid, only that there is a patient with a gunshot wound en route, so when he sees who it is, Clive is vehement to help save Cid despite protocols.

(He lives, I promise 🥲👌)

[eddiexcastro]

When she took his hand for a moment, he squeezed it and tried to watch her go. He felt like he couldn't breath properly and started gasping for air and by the time the paramedics arrived, he was unresponsive. They loaded him up on the bed while doing CPR on him as they took him to the ambulance and headed towards the hospital.

**TIME SKIP**

Several tests and hours later, it was mid-morning and Eddie was finally waking up a little. Machines were beeping nearby and medicine was going through his IV helping him feel more like himself. Well, as much as one could after cardiac arrest. He looked around the room and a smile crossed his face as he saw Verity there. "Hey. You're here." @veritywagner

Verity looked at her phone when the woman said dispatch were 2 mints away. In this moment she was incredibly grateful for what a small town Kismet Harbor was. “The door is still open, we’re in the kitchen.” Verity explained when the woman asked if she could open the door to the kitchen. Hearing the sirens in the distance, Ver reached for his hand. “I’ll be right back okay?” She said before getting up and running over just in time for the paramedics walking through the door with the ambulance bed in tow. “We’re in here. He’s having a heart attack.” She quickly explained as the paramedics entered the kitchen and walked over to Eddie. @eddiexcastro

[hawkaboy]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Original Work Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Ryo/Runner (pre-relationship), so none yet Characters: Ryo (OC), Runner (OC), Other(s) Additional Tags: How Do I Tag, Original Fiction, Original Character(s), Major Character Injury, major character (almost) death, Ryo's alive I promise, Originally an Cyberpunk campaign, based on Cyberpunk 2077, (without any context lol?), Ancestrality, cardiac arrest - Freeform, (i guess), Graphic Description of a Cardiac Arrest, Mentions of Ryonner, the context of this scene is too big, Drabble, short fic, Wordcount: 100-1.000, Runner is a cyborg Summary:

His ancestrals, they were getting to him.

[serickswrites]

I Don't Feel So Good

Warnings: captivity, restraints, torture, electrocution, rescue, hospital, cardiac arrest, cpr, unclear character status, forced to watch

"I....I don't feel so good, C-C-Caretaker," Whumpee said as they slumped over in their chair. "D-D-Dizzy."

"It's ok, Whumpee. Help is here. Hold on. Just hold on," Caretaker said, wishing they could slip the cuffs that kept them away from Whumpee.

Time passed strangely for Caretaker. It seemed as though time had frozen when Whumper was in the room with them. But then time passed swiftly when Whumper had left them alone for an hour. And now, time seemed distorted, speeding up and slowing down. It had been torture watching Whumper spend the last hour shocking Whumpee with the car battery. And now that help had arrived, the waiting was torture.

Whumper had rushed from the room, leaving Whumpee still hooked up to the battery, when the sound of a door giving way startled the three of them. "Help is here, Whumpee. We're saved. Help is here."

Caretaker repeated it over and over as they watched Whumpee struggle to breathe. They opened their mouth to say something, but a group of people rushed into the room. Time seemed to jump for Caretaker, the rescuer's movements disjointed and fast. Before Caretaker could say much, they found themself in the back of an ambulance with Whumpee, rushing to the emergency room.

Whumpee lay on the gurney, their face pale and drawn with pain. The paramedic quickly hooked Whumpee up to various leads and monitors. Caretaker squeezed Whumpee's hand tightly. "You're going to be ok. They're taking us to get you checked out, you're going to be ok." Time was slow in the ambulance. Time was too slow. Whumpee needed help. But the ambulance seemed frozen in time for Caretaker.

A monitor screamed a warning and the paramedic looked up. They called to their partner, "They're in V-Fib. I'm going to defibrillate."

Caretaker's heart began to pound. Whumpee was getting worse. "Please, stay with me, Whumpee."

"I need you to step back, Caretaker," the paramedic said as they attached the sticky patches to Whumpee's chest. "Let me take care of them."

Whumpee's eyes frantically searched for Caretaker's as Caretaker pulled away. "I'm right here. You're going to be ok, Whumpee. You're going to be ok."

The paramedic took the paddles and paused before placing them on Whumpee's chest. "Whumpee, I know you're not feeling very good right now. This isn't going to feel great either. But your heart is beating in a rhythm that isn't good or sustainable. I'm going to try and shock you back into the correct rhythm."

Whumpee nodded their understanding, though their eyes were beginning to get hazy.

"Stay with me, Whumpee. You're going to be ok," Caretaker murmured as they started to reach for Whumpee again.

"Clear!" The paramedic said as they pressed the paddles to Whumpee's chest. Caretaker quickly yanked their hand back to avoid being shocked.

Whumpee's body convulsed with the shock. The paramedic watched the monitor. "I'm going to shock you again, Whumpee. Your heart rhythm isn't quite where it should be."

Whumpee nodded weakly, blinking their eyes slowly. "Clear!" the paramedic said as they deployed the paddles once more.

Caretaker held their breath as they watched Whumpee's body move. The monitor continued with the same sound, the same warning alarm that Whumpee's heart wasn't cooperating.

"Clear!" the Paramedic said again.

But as they started to deploy the paddles once more, Caretaker's stomach dropped as they heard the monitor let one continuous streak and the line that had been erratic mirroring Whumpee's heart beat became flat.

"Asystole," the paramedic called out, putting the paddles back onto the machine, "starting compressions."

Caretaker couldn't breathe around the terror gripping them as they watched the paramedic begin compressions on Whumpee. Couldn't breathe around the terror gripping them as the ambulance stopped, pulling into a med bay. Couldn't breathe around the terror gripping them as they stared into Whumpee's half lidded, empty eyes.

"Come on, breathe, Whumpee. Breathe, damn it!" The paramedic said as they continued to pound on Whumpee's chest.

Caretaker started to reach out to Whumpee, to take Whumpee's hand in theirs. Started to reach out to beg Whumpee to breathe, to stay with them. Started to reach out to try and bring Whumpee back to them. But as their fingertips brushed Whumpee's, the door to the ambulance swung open and they were swarmed by the medical team.

Whumpee was wheeled away from them before they could say or do anything. Wheeled away with the medic still performing CPR. Wheeled away to somewhere Caretaker couldn't go.

Caretaker began to sob as they realized Whumpee might be gone. Might be gone to somewhere permanently. Might be....dead.

Caretaker jumped as a nurse put a hand on their shoulder. "Caretaker," they said softly, "let's take a look at you."

"They....they need help," Caretaker whispered, unable to say the words that they feared were true.

"Whumpee has a great medical team looking after them. Let's get you looked at and then I can find out how Whumpee's doing, is that ok?"

"Whumpee....Whumpee needs me. Please, they need me. I need them." Caretaker started forward to try and follow, but the nurse's hand on their shoulder made them stop.

"Whumpee has all the medical team they need. You need to be looked at. Let the doctors do their job with Whumpee. And let me help you. Then I'll look in on Whumpee, ok?" Their voice was calm and soothing.

But Caretaker didn't want to be soothed. Whumpee had been hurt because of them. Had continued to be hurt because of them. They hadn't been able to do anything to help Whumpee. Hadn't been able to get help, escape, or save Whumpee.

And now....And now, Whumpee's heart had stopped beating. Whumpee was.....dead.

"Please, they can't die. Please. Don't let them die," Caretaker said, tears streaming down their face.

"We won't let them die, Caretaker. We're working on bringing them back. Now let's take a look to make sure you're ok."

[whumpypepsigal]

Whumptober 2023 | No. 16

Flatline

Roswell, New Mexico s02e05: “I'm not gonna let you go alone, okay?”

@whumptober @whumptober-archive

[whumpy-daydreams]

CPR in hospitals

I did a post on doing cpr as a 'civilian' (i.e. in public with no equipment). But most people who follow me are writers! So here's how it goes down in hospital.

It varies on where someone is in hospital having a cardiac arrest, so this is just for if a patient is in a hospital bed with monitoring on.

The first sign is going to the monitor going crazy and the patient unconscious.

Step 1 - pull the emergency button and start chest compressions (they are still the most important thing!)

Step 2 - someone else will give rescue 'breaths' using an oxygen mask and bag (technically called a bag valve mask or BVM). Two breaths after every 30 compressions

Step 3 - someone else is cutting clothes off and putting defibrillator pads on. An anaesthetist may also intubate the patient and put them on a ventilator (this means you can do compressions continuously)

Step 4 - the defibrillator will scan the heart rhythm. If it's shockable (ventricular tachycardia or fibrillation) then everyone steps away while it shocks. As soon as it's safe, CPR continues (most defibrillators determine the rhythm and calculate voltage automatically)

Step 5 - if it's a non-shockable rhythm, give IV adrenaline ASAP

Step 6 - if it's a shockable rhythm, wait 2 minutes after first shock, check and shock again. Repeat a third time.

Step 7 - if the patient is still in cardiac arrest after 3 shocks, give IV adrenaline and amiodarone

Step 8 - continue CPR and give adrenaline every 5 minutes.

The person giving compressions should switch every 60 compressions (two cycles of 30) - the next person is counted in so there's no time without compressions

There are 10 main causes of cardiac arrest - while all of this is happening a team of doctors will be trying to work out the cause so they can treat it. I won't go into the causes because it's boring and technical.

CPR, defibrillation, and drugs will continue until the cardiac arrest stops or the patient is declared deceased.

If someone is in hospital because of hypothermia, remember! They're not dead until they're warm! (there have been cases of hypothermia patients being successfully resuscitated after over 5 hours of CPR!)

[kerstuhn]

wwwy was something i always dreamt of going to. i saw the first lineup for 2022 and was in awe and genuinely couldn’t believe it was real (it was around this time when i was recovering from a cardiac arrest and had completely missed mcrs uk tour and knew there was no chance of seeing them live). i stayed up to watch the streams to see the outfits and it was incredible.

i watched again last year for blink-182 who i was fortunate enough to see live. and when this years lineup was announced with not only fall out boy (my all time favourite band ever) but my chemical romance playing all of the black parade i knew there was no chance i could miss it.

the two years of fomo were rough and since i was fit and healthy again i knew i had to go. now one week post wwwy i cry whenever i think about it.

these are tears of joy, pride, and strength. welcome to the black parade was my favourite song as a child and that album followed me all through my preteens and throughout high school. and for where i lived that sorta music during that time was really outcasted. it was hard finding people with similar tastes in highschool and earlier but through festivals and concerts and even online, i have been able to find communities and places where i feel accepted.

when i had my cardiac arrest there was so much put against me and the doctors saw my case as a genuine miracle and even today it still baffles me as to how im here. sitting here knowing ive heard this album that tackles the subject of dying due to your body losing a battle and subsequently losing strength and energy but regaining it through the acceptance of death is surreal.

i never related to that album before a couple years ago as much as i do right now. having been so close to death and teetering over the edge makes the messages in this album all so real. dead!, cancer, famous last words, welcome to the black parade are few songs from that album that solidify and truly validate my experiences.

the black parade as an album has made me feel seen in so many different ways throughout all stages of my life. i can happily say i wouldn’t be here without it as cliché as it sounds. wwwy regardless about how some may feel about the concept and planning of the festival made me feel like i can achieve so much more than what is expected of me.

people thought i was mad going 5000+ miles to see this band and i was but considering i have died i don’t think it’s that bad !

[noah-atwood]

CLOSED STARTER for @willxmeyers

Noah doesn't recognize every single person they transport in the rig, and if he does it's likely because they were a regular, a difficult patient, or someone who left him questioning to delicate mortality of life and counting his blessings by end of shift.

Or they're a case of something that hits close to home, and Will falls right into that category.

The very thing that flipped the switch in Noah's desire to find a way to help people.

"I know this is weird and all, but I was on that call. Yours, and…" Noah shifts his bags from one hand to the other, realizing now that Will certainly can't have any memory of him. "The one where — you know."

The paperwork had been a mess of scribbles, due the sudden coding, and Noah remembers throwing the clipboard to the side the moment cardiac arrest was a threat to the man's life. Up until they got to the hospital, they worked tirelessly on him. It's a relief to see him out and about, Christmas shopping or getting things for himself, whatever it may be. Once he'd been transported and the nurses took over, the fate of patients often is left unknown.

"Uhm, I'm glad you're alright. You getting some Christmas shopping done?"

[irukasenseii]

🫥

[madmanwonder]

Halloween Prompt (Dark): DekuLissa; Mad Scientist!Izuku performing CPR on Frankenstein Monster!Melissa after her heart gives out from intense electrical shocks to the organ during an endurance test

Izuku Midoriya and Melissa Shield was inside the dark, dinky laboratory, with the dorky but mad scientist doing a CPR on his finest creation/lover Melissa Shield due to her heart was giving out from the intense electrical shock during a endurance test.

Izuku: *A series of rapid heart compressions out of sheer desperation* Live damn you! Live!!!!! *Put his mouth to her mouth to give her air in hope to bring strength to her heart*

Melissa despite how dimly aware she was and how close to death she was heard the plea from her creator/lover and despite the dark whisper in her mind telling her to let go and accept the cold embrace of death...mustered up all of her willpower to fight on for life. Not for her sake but for Izuku sake.

[faofinn]

The Past Coming Back With The Light In The Morning

Part 1 | ???

You guys wanted it, here it is! This is part 1, so things might look a bit familiar, but there's plenty more to come :)

Winter, the worst time of year. Or, at least, Harrison thought it was. Deals were so much more difficult, stakeout so much harder when you could see your breath and not feel your feet. Cold season had well and truly got its claws in, and they'd found a firm hold on Harrison.

He wasn't going to let it stop him, but the fuzzy head and persistent cough and sniffle made him wary. The last time he'd pulled out of his job, the rest of Fred’s men had been quick to tease and taunt him, and he wasn’t in the mood for a repeat.

When the page went off in the middle of the night, he grumbled. It was just his fucking luck. Despite his protests, he still made it, turning up at the depot fuming.

The evening passed in somewhat of a blur, the fuzzy tinge to his thoughts only settling further. He knew he ought to just go home, but he couldn't let his small team down. He wasn't sure where the rain of bullets came from, but he saw Chris fall, felt the heat as they whizzed past them.

Harrison shouted down the radio, opening fire in return as he dragged Chris out of the way. He was more stunned than anything, a graze to his thigh and shoulder. The man Harrison had only ever known as Romeo finished the attackers off, rushing to their side as the alley silenced once more.

Reinforcements were quick to swarm them, the van swerving between warehouses to pick them up. They were quick to jump in the back, the five of them quickly taking stock and checking each other over.

Harrison quickly braced himself against the side as they started moving, the sudden movement sending a lance of pain through his abdomen. He groaned, unfortunately all too aware of the pain. His vest had a nick out of it, and he could tell by the budding bruises growing under it. The pain was worse than just that, and he couldn't quite believe it as his fingers came back red.

The bullet had missed the vest, only by a fraction, but that was all it needed to make its mark. He swore quietly, pulling on the velcro. The vest was stuck to his top, and his top to his skin, sticky red seeping through the fabric.

It took him a moment to catch up, and to realise he was being gently convinced to sit down. Their hands were gentle, though they shook. He rested his head against the side of the van, his vision starting to fade. He groaned, shaking his head as if to clear it, his brow furrowing.

"Fuck." He breathed, breaking off into heaving coughs. "This is bullshit."

"Hars, what do we do?"

He managed to glare at them. "Are you fucking wit' me?"

"There's just - it's a bit - it's just - "

"Fuck off with that." Harrison didn't have time for his crap. "One of you call…call Fao."

He barely managed the sentence, each word slurring into the next. He pitched forward as the van swerved, but he made no attempt to save himself. There was a dull thud as his body fell against the floor, his eyes rolled and unresponsive.

"What's going on back there?" The driver called gruffly.

"Harrison’s down."

"What happened?"

"I don't know!" His voice whined, his age showing through his panic.

"Call a medic alert, get the kit out and treat the fucker."

When Fao’s phone rang in the middle of the night, he startled awake, fumbling for it in the dark. He’d been out for dinner that night, definitely wasn’t sober, but the adrenaline was already doing a pretty good job of fixing that. They didn’t give him much information over the phone, just that they’d got a GSW and their rough location, in code so they’d be safe if anyone else happened to be listening. They were too far out to get back to the basement, and Fao would need to meet them halfway to treat.

He woke Ely, gave her a quick update, and pulled on some clothes, the first thing he found on the floor, his shirt and trousers from the evening. He didn’t have time to go looking for anything else, and bolted out of the house. There was kit in his car, and he knew there was kit in the van. He wasn’t sure what he’d need, but between both he’d probably have everything he needed. He sped through the streets to the meet location he’d been given, ditched his car somewhere safe, and scrambled into the van.

“What am I doing? Talk to me.” He asked breathlessly.

Harrison had become combative as he deteriorated, struggling between conscious and not. It scared the men, and they'd all taken a step back, too uncomfortable to help.

Fao was a welcome sight, his reputation preceding him.

"Uh, Harrison got shot. He won't let us near him, so we haven't."

Fao’s heart sank. Of course it was Harrison. “Oh, good. Just him bleed out all over the van, then.” He snapped, quickly throwing his hair up into a bun. “I need proper light, one of you sort that.” His voice was cold, commanding, rolling his sleeves up and quickly looking Harrison over. It wasn’t hard to see where the blood was coming from, and he shifted his weight to brace himself as he grabbed gauze and put as much pressure on it as he dared. “You. Come here, take over the pressure.”

“I, uh, I…”

“Shut up, I don’t want to hear it. Cover my hands with yours and hold the pressure until I say otherwise. Unless you want to start an IV? No? Didn’t think so.” He snapped, as the other man took over. He wiped his bloody hands off on his shirt, and shifted over slightly to Harrison’s arm, eyes looking critically for a vein as he rifled through the kit.

The pain somehow got worse. Harrison wasn't sure how, but it did. He cried out through gritted teeth, trying to arch away. It took a moment to coordinate, but he started swinging, trying to get away.

Fao ducked out of the way, catching Harrison’s fist and gently forcing his arm back down. “Harrison? It’s okay, you’re okay. It’s Fao, I’ve got you. Try and relax, you’re safe now. I’m helping, alright? Let me help.”

"He's going to hit me!"

“He’s half unconscious, try harder to dodge him.” Fao shot back. “I’m working as fast as I can.” He gritted his teeth as he tried desperately to get a vein, struggling with poor light and Harrison’s struggling. He got one eventually, shouting triumphantly. It wasn’t enough, and he wanted more access, but he could at least get some pain relief in, hopefully settle him.

Harrison twisted as Fao shouted, whining as he tried to get away. His chest heaved as he struggled to get his breath, the feeling he was drowning all too much.

“Sorry, sorry.” Fao soothed. “You’re okay, I’ve got you. It’s gonna be okay, Hars. Just focus on doing that breathing, let me to do the rest. Giving you something for the pain, now, gonna make it easier.” He told him, quickly checking the drug before he gave it.

His shouts died down into cries, quiet whimpering softly to himself. The pain had started to ease slightly, making it easier to focus. It made breathing more difficult, though, and he couldn't stop the panic coursing through him.

“You’re okay, that’s it. Well done, keep breathing for me.”

He turned his head, looking towards Fao's voice. "Help."

“I’m helping, I promise.”

"It hurts." He managed, finally managing to focus on him.

“I know, I know. I’ve given you some painkillers, they’ll work soon.”

"'m dying."

“No you’re not. Just focus on your breathing for me, let me sort the rest.”

"I am."

“That’s it, good.” Fao reassured. There was so much blood, and he was really struggling to properly control it. The van went over a bump and jolted, and Fao tried to brace himself on his knees. “Fucking hell.”

Harrison whined, trying to pull away from the pain. It was everywhere, though, and there was nothing he could do.

“Well done, that’s it.” He soothed. “I’ve got you.” He stretched for his kit, rifling through to try and find what he needed. He needed a trained someone, anyone who he could trust. Not Harrison’s little team.

Frustrated and tired, he started fighting against the other man. He got a solid elbow in their ribs, the relief of pressure against his side just bliss.

“I know, I know.” Fao murmured, moving to try and pack the wound.

He twisted again, curling away from Fao. His scream died on his tongue, his hands pushing against Fao's.

“I’m sorry, I know it hurts.” Fao muttered. He was happy enough with the packing, and moved to try and get a listen to Harrison’s chest. It was loud on the van, and he struggled to keep his balance as he listened, swearing to himself.

Harrison could feel himself slipping, the ceiling of the van swimming in and out of focus. Even the pain couldn't keep him conscious, his head lolling.

Fao’s stomach twisted as Hars lost consciousness, but he was relieved in a way. At least he wasn’t in pain. He didn’t like what he was hearing at all from his chest, and dug in his kit to find what he needed for a chest drain. It certainly wouldn’t be perfect, but it would do. He didn’t even bother talking to the other men as he grabbed a scalpel, found his landmark, and made the cut.

He definitely felt that, and he cried out again, but he wasn't with it any more. The men beside Fao retched, especially as blood quickly poured from the drain.

Fao rolled his eyes as the men retched. What he wouldn’t give for Steve or Finn or someone. Trying to manage this completely on his own wasn’t working. He took a set of obs as best he could, blood soaking his trousers and making them cling to him. The numbers he got back were more than a bit concerning, despite his interventions, and they weren’t getting any better. Fuck.

Harrison coughed and choked, spots of blood on his lips. His resps were through the roof, his heart rate doing its best to compensate for his blood pressure circling, for his blood volume pooling on the floor. He managed to catch Fao's eye, and he met his gaze with panic and fear in his eyes.

Fao locked eyes with Harrison. “I’ve got you, Tomcat. You’re gonna be okay.” He told him firmly. Things were just consistently getting worse, though, and Fao felt considerably out of control. He gave as much TXA as he felt he could, but it wasn’t close to enough to help the bleeding.

“How far out are we?” He snapped, asking whoever cared to listen.

"We've still got at least fifteen minutes."

“Fuck’s sake.”

Hars could feel himself slipping again, missing parts of the conversation. He grabbed for Fao's top, his hand leaving more bloodied streaks across it.

"I want Steve."

“We’re gonna be with him really soon, Hars.” Fao murmured. “He’s gonna be waiting for us at home.”

He shook his head. "I'm not gonna make it."

“As if I’m giving up on you. I’m gonna make sure you’re okay, alright? Hold on for me.”

He knew Fao was trying his best, and he’d continue to do nothing but. He trusted Fao with his life, and they unfortunately kept ending up in situations where it was tested. It didn’t take a genius to know he wasn’t okay, and the small bit or working brain he had left had worked out it probably wasn't going to end well.

He forced his eyes open again, though he didn't remember closing them. "It's okay."

Fao’s repeat set of obs were no better. In fact, they were worse. He swallowed thickly, digging around in his pocket for his phone. He needed to talk to Steve, needed someone medical he could talk to, to reassure him he wasn’t completely out of his mind.

He chucked it on the floor of the van on speaker as it rang, and he prayed he’d answer.

"Fao, talk to me. I heard the call for medical."

“It’s Hars, and it’s bad. We’re still miles out, in the back of a shitty van, and all I have is my kit.”

Hars stirred again. "Steve?"

"Hey, Hars. You causing problems for Fao, eh?" He tried to sound light for him, but even he could hear the waver in his tone. He cleared his throat. "What's happened with him? Head to toe, obs, and what kit do you have?"

“GSW, it’s gone just under his vest, entry is the abdo but exit is further up into the chest. Haemothorax on the right. I’ve got a drain in but it’s putting out so much fucking blood. Pulse 138, BP 76/50, SpO2 94 on high flow, Resps sitting at 36, he's still not getting chest rise on the right. He's with it enough, but he's starting to pass out and stay out. I've given the TXA but it's just not stopping. The floor is covered, I'm covered. It’s my kit, it’s decent. Airway kit, ket, paralytics, TXA. I’m just out of my fucking depth here, nobody else knows a fucking thing and I feel like I’m going insane.”

Steve took a moment. Well, fuck. "Right. Take a breath. Reassess, keep going ABCs. You need to get on top of that bleeding. He's not going to be able to compensate forever. Have you got anything to give? Will they follow instructions?"

“I know he won’t compensate forever.” Fao snapped. “I’ve got saline but no blood. They’re fucking useless, hadn’t touched him at all when I showed up. Not even put pressure on.”

"Fucking hell. Okay. Fluid bolus, see if that helps his pressure at all. He's not going to hold his airway by himself if he goes, so just be careful."

Fao quickly set up the fluids, wiping his hands on his trousers as he struggled with the connectors. Fluids running, he forced himself to breathe. “Alright. Fluids in. I want to sort his airway before it becomes a problem.”

"If you're thinking RSI, you need to trust they can help."

"Steve." Harrison interrupted again, apparently unaware of the conversation.

“I don’t think I’m going to have a choice, Steve. I’m watching him deteriorate in front of me, and we’re still miles out.”

"You can see him, not me. Do what you think is best."

Unimpressed by Steve's lack of response, he shoved at Fao with a frustrated grunt. "Steve."

Fao huffed. “Thank you, Hars.” He muttered under his breath. “He’s very insistent that he wants you, Steve.”

"Hars, we're just trying to help you."

"No." He shook his head, though Steve couldn't see, and Fao wasn't sure he didn't realise that.

“We are, I’m doing my best right now Hars. Focus on breathing like I said.”

He sniffed, setting himself off coughing again. The pain exploded again, despite the morphine, and, once more, slipped under.

God, it was just getting worse. He hated watching Harrison slip into unconsciousness again, powerless to stop it.

"Fao, talk to me." Steve's tone was tense, and Fao could hear him pacing.

“Unconscious again, I’m repeating obs.” Fao replied, his own tone similarly tense.

"Come on, Hars. Don't do this." Steve murmured, wishing he was there with them.

The blood pressure cycled, protesting at the numbers. It continued tightening, way into the two hundreds, and Harrison gave a whine. He tried to pull away from it, panicked.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Just give it a minute, I know it’s uncomfy.” Fao murmured, but it wasn’t a good sign. He knew full well it wasn’t high enough to need that kind of pressure - it was just struggling for a read full stop.

Harrison, of course, didn't listen. He twisted away, an unintelligible shout in both pain and frustration.

"Hars, listen to Fao. He's looking after you."

“It’s alright, it’s okay.” Fao tried vainly to soothe. But sure enough the blood pressure gave up, failing to get a read, and Fao’s stomach dropped. “Fluids haven’t done shit. It won’t even read, just cycles until it gives up.”

"You're going to have to give more, you can't RSI that low. Has he got a radial?"

It took Fao a moment. “No. Nothing.”

"Give him fluids."

“I might as well just pour them on the fucking floor.” Fao muttered, but swapped the bag over to give more.

"Just try."

“Yeah, they’re running.”

Harrison screwed his face up, managing to squint at Fao. He was sure he'd heard Steve too, but the huddle of men behind Fao were too small to be him.

“That’s it Hars, you’re alright.” Fao said softly, half as reassurance for himself.

"Where's Steve?" He slurred, more of a mumble than anything.

“On the phone with me.” Fao replied.

"Right here, Hars."

“Both of us are looking after you.”

"Sorry."

“Don’t apologise.” Fao said firmly.

Harrison lapsed back into silence, somewhere between conscious and not. As the blood pressure started again, he whined once more, but didn't pull away.

Harrison’s blood was drying on his hands, as Fao waited for the machine to read, praying it would give him something. Just a number would be better than the endless cycling.

Harrison's breath caught in his throat again, and his frown deepened. He knew Fao was looking after him, and Steve was there too, somewhere. He could see Fao leaning over him, doing things in slow motion. Which left Steve..

"Dad?"

Fao’s stomach twisted, and the noise Steve made over the crackled phone line was less than dignified.

“I’m right here, Hars. I’m right here, I’ve got you.” He replied, his voice wavering. “You’re going to be okay.”

He seemed to have a sudden rush of energy, though his observations were still terrible, and his prognosis even worse.

"Thank you." He muttered softly.

Fao sucked in another deep breath, forcing himself to re-focus. He had to keep doing this. “Blood pressure is a little less shit. I’ve at least got a number.”

"That's good." Steve managed.

Harrison reached for Fao’s hand, for a moment of comfort in his desperation.

Fao squeezed his fingers. “I’ve got you.” He murmured. He laid out his airway kit with the other hand, leaving smears of blood all over it, though he didn’t notice. He needed the blood pressure up a bit more before he could fully RSI, but it never hurt to prepare.

The squeeze managed to help, a tiny hint of a smile gracing Harrison's blood-splattered lips. He tried his best, his fingers twitching in Fao's before his eyes rolled. It didn’t take long for things to go south, as Hars took a breath and then stopped.

“Fuck.” Fao muttered, snatching up his kit. He couldn’t put this off any longer now, he needed control of his airway. Unsure just how conscious he was, having watched him flick in and out, Fao chatted away to him as he sorted it, half to keep himself from losing it. “Alright Hars. That’s you finding your limit, hmm? It’s okay, I’ll take over from here. Got some meds to get you off to sleep now, so you can have a nap whilst I do the hard work.” He quickly pushed the ket, watching him carefully. There were men clustered around Harrison’s head, and Fao snapped at them to move, which they did. Happy with his sedation, he pushed his roc, bagged until he was happy with it, and snatched up his tube and laryngoscope. He was rusty with his intubations, of course, so what better time to practice than in a dark, moving van covered in blood? But Harrison, for all he made Fao’s life difficult, apparently wasn’t a difficult airway, and Fao got it first time. He shouted triumphantly, checked his placement, and then secured it.

“Tube’s in, airway’s secure.”

Steve let out a shaky breath. "Good. Well done."

Fao couldn’t breathe for Harrison forever, not if he was going to continue to manage the bleeding. “Which one of you lot is the most competent here? Who’s not a complete idiot?” He asked.

They were all quiet, slightly afraid of Harrison and definitely afraid of Fao. After a moment, one of them stepped forward.

"I can help. What do you need?"

Fao looked up. “Are you capable of breathing?”

"For him?"

Fao huffed. “Essentially, yes. Every time you take a breath, I want you to squeeze this to breathe for him, too. Can you do that?” He asked, demonstrating. “I can’t sit here and do it, I’ve got other stuff to do.”

Panic flashed across his face. "Okay. Yeah." He swallowed, taking a moment. It was Harrison. He'd got him out of shit so many times before, it was only fair to return the favour. "I can do that."

“Just whenever you breathe, breathe for him too. Just got to think about breathing. Okay?”

"Okay." He moved to take Fao's place. "I can do that."

“Shout if you get stuck.” Fao murmured, and moved away, to carefully take yet another set of obs, praying they were better than before.

Steve hated being so far away, so unable to do anything. "Fao, talk to me."

“I’m taking obs.” Fao shot back. “I’ll tell you stuff when I know it.”

"You just went silent. I need to know what's happening."

“I’m trying to concentrate!”

"Fine, hurry up."

“Going as fast as I can.” He muttered. For once, Harrison’s obs had trended slightly upwards, and Fao was glad of it. “A bit better. SpO2 has come up, as has his BP.”

"Good. The tube will be helping with his sats."

“Yeah, that’s why I did it.” Fao said flatly.

"I just mean that he's not going to be resping at fifty or some shite."

“Yeah.”

"How's the bleeding doing?"

“Still fucking bleeding.”

"I've put a call out for more blood, you just need to get back."

“I’ll need the whole trauma setup.” Fao muttered, doing his best to manage the bleeding. “Can you go up and wake Ely? I’m going to need her."

"Everyone's up. They're just sorting the basement out."

“Good.” Fao was relieved he had a team waiting for him.

"If the second lot of fluids helped, you can give him another 500 bolus."

“It’s helped, but I don’t know for how much longer. I’ve got no pressors, and limited fluids.”

"You just need to get him back. If he's still got pressure, give it."

“Giving it now.” He muttered, trying to push his hair out of his face.

"Give me a run down of his obs once you've done that."

He finally got it connected and running, discarding the spent bag. His ‘assistant’ was doing well ventilating, surprisingly, and so he quickly started on obs. He hated having to do this in such an old fashioned manner, he missed his hospital conveniences and continuous monitoring.

But as he started, he just knew it was wrong, and when he didn’t find a pulse, his stomach twisted. “Oh, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

[toss-a-coin-to-your-stan-account]

as a poor tired bisexual who was there when oncest era 2 loki s1 was airing I am gripping you all by the shoulders... shut the fuck up

[aceduchessdragoness]

Uploaded on Instagram by [@]moh.lehya on Jan 5, 2024

"Today, during a tour in the city of Rafah with some journalists, the Israeli occupation targeted some people very close to where we were, and I, as a doctor, did my part and treated civilians to the best of my ability. Praise be to God, I was able to restore the pulse of one of the injured people after he lost it, and I treated the wounds of others until the ambulance arrived."

[says the same in Arabic]

اليوم ، وخلال جولة في مدينة رفح مع بعض الصحفيين ، استهدف الاحتلال الإسرائيلي بعض" الأشخاص المتواجدين القريبين جدا من مكان تواجنا وأنا كطبيب قمت بدوري وعالجت مواطنين من قلب الحدث

الحمد لله استطعت اعاده النبض لأحد المصابين بعدما فقده، وعالجت جراح البعض الآخر لحين وصول الإسعاف"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[id: video description. Everyone in this video speaks Arabic, so if anyone knows it and wants to add to this post what is says, please do! Or tell me what it says so I can add it to my post!

The video starts with the uploader, Dr. Mohammed Ayman, giving CPR to a man lying on the sidewalk, his body limp and shaking every time the doctor urgently thrusts his hands into their chest, around them a group has gathered, and someone shouts frantically in Arabic.

It then jump-cuts to Dr. Mohammed tending to the wounds of a different man. He is lying on the dirt road, presumably on his jacket, which has been removed; his grey sweatshirt has blood drops on the front, with a large patch on the right forearm, the sleeve has been rolled up and there’s a wad of gauze covering the wound. Similar to the sweatshirt, his sweatpants are also covered with light blood splatter. The man’s head is wrapped thickly with more gauze, and there is blood dripping from the corners of his mouth; nonetheless, he keeps his head lifted up, and is using his unscathed arm to twirl around his hand with only his pointer finger held up. Kneeling behind the man’s head, Dr. Mohammed cups his hands and someone pours a bit of bottled water into them. He splashes it over his patient’s mouth, urges him to rest his head against a makeshift pillow, and wipes away dirt and blood from their face, checking out the man’s eyes afterwards. He repeats the process on the eyes on last time before the final jump-cut.

The man in the sweatshirt is carefully brought to his feet by Dr. Mohammed and two other gentlemen and, still holding on, lead him to the back of an ambulance, while around them is an even larger crowd. Dr. Mohammed and a couple others speak in Arabic, but I’m unsure what they are saying. /id]

[serickswrites]

Running Through My Veins

Per request of @artisticdemon

Warnings: captivity, torture, forced to watch, restraints, poison, poisoning, cardiac arrest, mcd

Caretaker struggled against the cuffs and chains keeping them attached to the wall ring in the corner. They had to get out, had to get to Whumpee.

Whumpee stood in the standing cuffs, their body stretched taut as their arms were pulled tight, high above their head. They stood at attention, desperately trying to keep their feet on the ground lest they put too much weight on their shoulders.

"Well, well, well," Whumper said with great flourish, "this is a moment I have been so longing for."

"Please," Whumpee begged.

"Fuck you," Caretaker said as they glared at Whumper.

Whumper gave a sidelong glance at Caretaker. "I have no interest in that. No, the only thing I have interest in is your pain, Caretaker."

Caretaker could see Whumpee tremble as they stood before Whumper. "Then string me up. Let Whumpee go. You can hurt me here. I'm already restrained."

"That's so boring, Caretaker. Where's the fun in that? Why put hands on you when I can do this?" Whumper said as they stabbed Whumpee's bicep with a needle. "This is so much more fun."

"NOOOOO!" Caretaker roared, straining to the end of their chian.

Whumpee whimpered as Whumper depressed the needle. "Please," they said again as a single tear tracked down their cheek.

"What did you give them?" Caretaker growled. Once they got free, they were going to end Whumper.

"Digitalis. Sometimes it makes your heart beat too fast. Sometimes too slow. You never know until you try it out. Let's see how you do with this small dose, Whumpee." Whumper walked away, slamming the door shut behind them.

Whumpee began to droop, their feet slipping on the ground. "I.....ddddon't f-f-f-feelllll so go-go-go-goood, Ca'er," Whumpee mumbled as they scrambled to keep their feet on the ground.

"Talk to me, Whumpee. Tell me what's wrong. You're ok. You're going to be ok. I'm going to get us out of here."

"Mmmmm," Whumpee hummed as their eyes drooped closed. They struggled to stay awake. The pain in their shoulders kept them awake. But they were so tired. And it felt like they couldn't get a good breath.

Whumper returned hours later. Whumpee had mostly normalized, their heart beating closer to its regular speed. Caretaker had kept them awake and talking. Kept them awake through the fatigue. Through the nausea. Through everything.

"How was that? Did you relax a little, Whumpee? Hmmmm?" Whumper said as they pulled another needle out. "Maybe a bit more is what you need."

And before Caretaker could scream their protest, Whumper had injected Whumpee once more. This continued for hours--days?-- and Caretaker was powerless to just watch. They couldn't do anything but talk Whumpee through.

Sometimes Whumpee's heart pounded, their limbs shaking and sweating as they hyperventilated, unable to calm themselves. Other times they slumped over, losing their footing and crying out in pain as their heart beat slowed.

And still Caretaker was helpless to do anything. They couldn't slip the cuffs. Couldn't hold Whumpee up. Couldn't release Whumpee. Couldn't escape. Couldn't do anything except sit there and talk to Whumpee. And pray that it would all stop.

"Inject me!" Caretaker begged when Whumper returned. "I'll let your poison run through my veins. Hurt me! Hurt ME!"

Whumper gave a cruel smile. "Oh but I am." They injected Whumpee once more. "This will hurt the most, Caretaker. I couldn't think of a better way to hurt you."

"Please," Whumpee sobbed. "It's too much, please."

Whumper cupped Whumpee's cheek briefly. "It will be over soon. For you, at least," they chuckled as they left the room.

"Whumpee, talk to me. I'm here. Tell me what's going on."

"C-C-Can'tttt. F-F-Fast," Whumpee panted.

"Breathe, just breathe," Caretaker urged, trying to not let the concern creep into their voice. Whumpee reacted faster this time compared to the other times. How much had Whumper given them?

"H-H-Hurtttttssss," Whumpee gasped as their feet began to slip once more.

"It's ok. You're ok. You're going to be ok. Just stand up. I'll find a way out. Just hold on, Whumpee. Hold on."

"Mmmmm," Whumpee huffed as they threw their head back. They took several gasping breaths of air, shifting their feet, desperately trying to keep upright.

Caretaker could see Whumpee's shoulders pull tight as they struggled to stay upright. "It's ok, Whumpee. You'll be ok. You can do this. I'll get out of these cuffs, I swear. Just hold on for me. Please."

With a loud gasp, Whumpee dropped their head forward, eyes unfocused. "Look at me, Whumpee," Caretaker urged, "I'm right here. Look at me, you're going to be ok. I'm going to get us out of here. I promise."

Whumpee slowly, painfully slow, turned their gaze to Caretaker. Their eyes were hazy and beginning to glaze over. Their lips moved, but no sound came out.

"No, Whumpee, stay. You have to stay. PLEASE!" Caretaker cried out as they watched Whumpee sigh. Whumpee went limp in their chains, their head lolling forward, arms pulling tight above their head. Their body swung on the chain slowly as their feet slipped out from under them.

"WHUMPEE! WHUMPEE! SAY SOMETHING! WHUMPEE! NO! GOD NO! PLEASE! WHUMPEE!" Caretaker screamed as tears streamed down their face. They ducked low, praying that they were wrong. That Whumpee was merely unconscious.

But as they stared into Whumpee's half lidded, empty gaze and waited for Whumpee's lungs to fill once more, Caretaker's own heart seized in their chest. Because Whumpee was still. So impossibly still as they swung. Their chest was unmoving.

"NOOOOO! NOOOO!" Caretaker howled as they realized what had happened. "PLEASE GOD PLEASE!"

"Music to my ears," Whumper said with a smile as they entered once more. "Your piteous, mewling cries of misery, Caretaker. What a delight."

They stopped as they were even with Whumpee. Whumper took Whumpee's chin between their thumb and forefinger and lifted. Whumpee's lifeless eyes stared out at nothing as Whumper inspected their head.

"DON'T TOUCH THEM!" Caretaker screamed as they lunged forward, the cuffs pulling tight on their wrists.

"What? It's not like it's going to hurt them anymore, Caretaker. Whumpee is dead. Just look!" Whumper shoved Whumpee so they swung out towards Caretaker. Their head lolled on their limp neck, arms pulled tight above their head.

Caretaker shut their eyes tightly, unable to bear the sight of Whumpee's body swinging on the chain. "Please, don't touch them."

Whumper rolled their eyes. "You are such a kill joy."

They stopped Whumpee's body from swinging further. They stared at Whumpee's limp hands for a moment before unhooking the chain quickly. Whumpee dropped into a heap on the floor.

"What are you going to do to them?" Caretaker sobbed as they stared at Whumpee.

"Me? Absolutely nothing," Whumper said as they grabbed the chain between the shackles on Whumpee's wrist. "I'm going to do nothing to them except leave them right here." They dragged Whumpee closer to Caretaker. Just out of reach.

Whumper kicked Whumpee until Whumpee's body rolled on its side, such that Caretaker could stare directly into Whumpee's eyes. Caretaker sobbed harder as they stared into the empty eyes of the person they loved. The person they swore to protect. The person they failed to save.

"This is a far better form of torture, don't you think?" Whumper whispered as they leaned down and cupped Whumpee's cheek. "Because this one lasts forever."

[x-authorship-x]

Oh God the angst is delicious today but poor Tenzō, I hope he doesn't actually die 😔

Three immediate thoughts-

The panic of having only a few trusted people with healing skills around if Tenzo went into ROOT-seal-induced cardiac arrest whilst Shisui was close to flat-lining and the horror of having to choose

And

Tsunade being hunted down to heal shisui AND tenzo and then her having a moral dilemma of 'this is an innocent' vs 'this is walking bloodline thievery' in the middle of saving Tenzo's life

And

One of them waking up and realising the other isn't there 🥹🤌

[ashessartt]

JUST GOT A VANILLA EXTRACT ADD ON PINTEREST