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xtruss · 21 days ago

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FDA Proposes Ending Use of Oral Phenylephrine as OTC Monograph Nasal Decongestant Active Ingredient After Extensive Review

— November 07, 2024 | FDA Press Release

A bottle of Vicks DayQuil cold and flu medicine containing phenylephrine is displayed for sale in a CVS Pharmacy store in Hawthorne, California, on Sept. 12, 2023. Patrick T. Fallon | AFP | Getty Images

Key Points:

The Food and Drug Administration proposed ending the use of a common ingredient in many popular over-the-counter cold and allergy medications because it doesn't actually relieve nasal congestion.

The FDA said the proposed order is not final yet, which means companies can still market over-the-counter drugs containing oral phenylephrine for now.

A final order will force pharmacies to clear shelves of hundreds of products containing oral forms of the ingredient, which is found in versions of drugs such as NyQuil, Benadryl, Sudafed and Mucinex.

Today, the U.S. Food and Drug Administration announced it is proposing to remove oral phenylephrine as an active ingredient that can be used in over-the-counter (OTC) monograph drug products for the temporary relief of nasal congestion after an agency review of the available data determined that oral phenylephrine is not effective for this use. For now, companies may continue to market OTC monograph drug products containing oral phenylephrine as a nasal decongestant. This is a proposed order. Only a final order will affect what products can be marketed. The proposed order is based on effectiveness concerns, not on safety concerns.

Currently, oral phenylephrine is widely used as a nasal decongestant active ingredient in many OTC monograph drug products. It is important to note that some products only contain oral phenylephrine as a single, active ingredient. Others contain oral phenylephrine and another active ingredient (e.g., acetaminophen or dextromethorphan), and the presence of oral phenylephrine in these medicines does not affect how other active ingredients work to treat the symptoms for which they are intended.

“It is the FDA’s role to ensure that drugs are safe and effective,” said Patrizia Cavazzoni, M.D., director of the FDA’s Center for Drug Evaluation and Research (CDER). “Based on our review of available data, and consistent with the advice of the advisory committee, we are taking this next step in the process to propose removing oral phenylephrine because it is not effective as a nasal decongestant.”

The agency conducted a comprehensive review of all available data on the safety and efficacy of oral phenylephrine, including the historical data that were used to support the determination made 30 years ago that oral phenylephrine was effective as a nasal decongestant, as well as newer clinical data on oral phenylephrine that have since become available.

Last fall, the FDA also held a Nonprescription Drug Advisory Committee meeting to discuss the ‘Generally Recognized as Safe and Effective’ (GRASE) status of oral phenylephrine as a nasal decongestant. The committee discussed new data on the effectiveness of orally administered phenylephrine and unanimously concluded that the current scientific data do not support that the recommended dosage in the OTC cold, cough, allergy, bronchodilator and antiasthmatic drug products monograph for orally administered phenylephrine’s effectiveness as a nasal decongestant.

“Consumers should know that a range of safe and effective drugs and other treatments is available to temporarily relieve congestion symptoms due to allergies or a common cold,” said Theresa Michele, M.D., director of the Office of Nonprescription Drug Products in CDER. “Consumers can also talk to their doctor or pharmacist about ways to treat these symptoms.”

Over the counter cold and flu medicine, NyQuil, DayQuil, Mucinex on the shelf. (Jeffrey Greenberg/Universal Images Group via Getty Images)

Because a variety of different drug products may be sold under the same brand name, consumers should always read the Drug Facts label to determine which ingredients are in a medication, and to be aware of important warnings and directions for use. Phenylephrine is also an ingredient in nasal sprays to treat congestion. The FDA’s action is only related to orally administered phenylephrine and not the nasal spray form.

The FDA is seeking public comments on this proposed order. Instructions on how to submit comments are found in the proposed order available on OTC Monographs@FDA. If, after considering the comments, the FDA concludes oral phenylephrine is not effective as a nasal decongestant, the FDA will issue a final order removing oral phenylephrine from the OTC monograph, and drug products thereafter could no longer contain oral phenylephrine as a nasal decongestant. The FDA would provide manufacturers with appropriate time to either reformulate drugs containing oral phenylephrine or remove such drugs from the market.

Sudafed and other common nasal decongestants containing pseudoephedrine are on display behind the counter at Hospital Discount Pharmacy in Edmond, Okla., Jan. 11, 2005. On Tuesday, Sept. 12, 2023 advisers to the Food and Drug Administration said that a different ingredient, phenylephrine, is ineffective at relieving nasal congestion. Drugmakers reformulated their products with phenylephrine after a 2006 law required pseudoephedrine-containing medications be sold from the behind pharmacy counter. (AP Photo, File)

— The FDA, an agency within the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services, protects the public health by assuring the safety, effectiveness, and security of human and veterinary drugs, vaccines and other biological products for human use, and medical devices. The agency also is responsible for the safety and security of our nation’s food supply, cosmetics, dietary supplements, radiation-emitting electronic products, and for regulating tobacco products.

#FDA #Press Release #Oral Phenylephrine #OTC #Monograph #Nasal Decongestant #Active Ingredient #Press Announcements

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yaelbolender · 2 years ago

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Since about two weeks, I have got a terrible rash, the cause still needs to be determined. I am wondering if it is due to eggs? Chicken? Too many cats around me during three weeks? With one cat sleeping literally on me 😂 or maybe the stress due to my ongoing anxiety? I finally went to the doctor who prescribed antibiotics and steroids because first, according to him, I had an infection plus a super allergy to something. He was right, my infected leg is becoming thinner and thinner (it was previously swollen and red), and I obviously had an allergy which disappeared little by little thanks to the steroids (which made me mount a piece of furniture on the rush and barely sleep). Then, I may have developed an allergic reaction to the antibiotics but I am almost done with them and I am feeling much better, I even manage to sleep in my bed without scratching myself the whole night. I am still wondering why my skin has been so angry during so many days and it allowed me to appreciate wonderful and soothing products like #water to drink or to apply on the rash to cool it down, the #aloeveragel which brings me relief during the night, the #eighthourcream by #elizabetharden which has been a must my whole life, to soothe the skin, the #aquaphorhealingointment works well too, the #niveacreme is appreciated now as I am feeling better and to keep my skin moisturized. Regarding #benadryl tablets, it temporary helps but makes me totally knocked out even during the night, I am not sure if I like the feeling, to use only if the itchy feeling drives you crazy. The #cvs #cortisonecream works well on the eczema part - yes, I have some eczema too. And the #johnmastersorganics #lipbalm #maple is just for the yummy feeling on the lips. I also drank teas for helping my stomach and making me sleep at night. So basically, I spend my days carrying a whole bag of #remedies but I am getting better every day. I apologize for being so late in my video releases, filming is not a problem, editing is another story in an itching state. It’s the first time that I have such a problem, this is so strange… #itchy #rash #allergy #infection #drivingcrazy #skin #skincare #skinhealth #ohjoy https://www.instagram.com/p/ClpJxA8P13a/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

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bluejayblueskies · 3 years ago

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For the Touches Ask Game, if you can, a little Jonmartin with Touching/9?

Thank you so much, I love your writing!!! 😭💕

touches prompt list

9 - holding hands across the table

i did a season two lunch dinner date fic! cw for mentions of paranoia/stalking and murder (in typical s2 fashion)

They’ve been having lunch together for two months when Martin asks, with enough stuttering that it takes Jon a moment to process his words, if Jon would like to get dinner with him.

Jon hesitates only briefly before agreeing. Between finding out about Martin’s CV and the newly delivered CCTV footage, he’s almost entirely convinced that Martin did not, in fact, murder Gertrude Robinson and that his various attempts to make sure Jon eats and sleeps and drinks tea are simply a result of Martin being… well. Being nice, he supposes. If overbearingly so.

Why Martin feels the need to coddle Jon, he doesn’t quite know. But if he’s being honest with himself, he’s… not complaining. His frequent skipping of meals often isn’t an intentional thing, born instead of his tendency to get so wrapped up in his work that hours fly by without him noticing, and while sometimes he’s irritated when his flow is interrupted by Martin’s cheery greeting, more often than not it’s… a relief. To step out of the Archives, away from the feeling of eyes on the back of his neck, and pretend like he isn’t working alongside a murderer.

Maybe a murderer. He… he doesn’t know. According to the CCTV footage, Tim and Sasha and Martin and Elias all have alibis. But he still can’t shake the feeling that he gets, sitting in his office or walking down the corridors or reading through statements, that something isn’t right.

That there’s something in the Archives that’s not supposed to be there.

So, it’s… nice to get outside. And as much as Tim may joke about it—or… used to joke about it, at least—Jon does, in fact, try to eat three square meals a day if he can remember to do so. Try being the operative word. He’s been… caught up in work lately, and often he glances at the clock to see that it’s well past ten and he’s accidentally skipped dinner entirely. He hadn’t thought Martin had noticed, given that the man doesn’t live in the Archives anymore and typically leaves promptly at five along with Tim and Sasha, but evidently, he was wrong.

As Jon sits across the table from Martin at the small café they’ve chosen for lunch, he has the fleeting thought that Martin’s been sneaking back and watching him work and that’s how he knows that Jon has been missing dinner. He lets himself feel it, takes a deep breath, and pushes it away with considerable effort. No, that’s not… he trusts Martin. He does. Or he… he wants to. He’s trying.

“Jon?”

“Hm?” Jon blinks up at Martin, who’s clearly waiting for a response. “Sorry, I-I didn’t catch that.”

Martin’s cheeks are dusted a rosy red. He fiddles nervously with the black ring on his finger—a bit thicker in width than Jon’s, the metal smooth and bright where it reflects the sunlight. “Is—is this Friday okay? At—at seven? I-I can, um, meet you at the Institute. U-Unless you’d like to meet there! That’s, er. That’s fine with me too.”

“The Institute is fine,” Jon says, picking at his sandwich with a frown. The bread is damp and squishes under his fingers. “Perhaps we can go somewhere a bit less… soggy.”

“R-Right, yeah. I, um. I was actually thinking… you know that new bistro o-over in Clapham? M-Maybe not, it’s, er. It’s new. But I-I heard it has good South Asian food, which, um. I know you like.”

Martin’s face is fully crimson by this point. Maybe we should sit inside next time, Jon thinks. Or at least in the shade. The sun is rather intense. Martin picks up his mug of tea and takes a long sip, staring resolutely down at the table once he’s done. Jon waits, but it appears that Martin is done rambling, so he says, “Yes, that sounds fine.” Then, because it’s polite (and not untrue): “I am… looking forward to it.”

“O-Oh? Oh!” Martin looks at him, a wide smile spreading across his face. “Y-Yeah, um. M-Me too.”

We should definitely sit inside next time, Jon thinks as the back of his neck grows warm, the tips of his ears surely darkening. Good lord.

He doesn’t think the heat is responsible for the way Martin’s smile makes something in his stomach flutter. He decides to blame that on the atrocious sandwich because… well. It’s as convenient an excuse as any.

Because Martin is just looking out for Jon’s wellbeing. This is no different than him bringing mugs of tea when Jon is recording statements or accompanying him to A&E to get stitches after Michael or inviting him to lunch in the first place. This is not, he tells his ridiculous, over-zealous, butterfly-filled stomach, a date.

Because it’s not. Martin is simply a coworker—an employee—and a friend. Who he trusts. Maybe. Probably. And thinks about sometimes when he’s unoccupied. His hands, mostly, which look very soft and very capable. His smiles as well, each one like a gift meant just for Jon. The way he carries the heavier boxes that Jon can’t quite manage and can reach the top shelves to retrieve statements without even having to clamber up onto the bottom ones.

All completely normal thoughts to be having about a friend

So, when Jon wears the soft maroon button-down on Friday that he’s been told brings out his eyes and takes care to arrange his hair into something other than the haphazard braid he’s been managing lately and digs a bottle of peach nail varnish out of the bottom of his drawer the night before to coat his fingernails with, it’s just because he feels like it. Not because this is a date. Because it’s not a date. It’s just dinner. With Martin.

Who shows up to the Institute at quarter to seven wearing a nicer jumper than usual—cable-knit and mustard yellow, looking incredibly soft to the touch—and with small black studs decorating the lobes of his ears. He smiles widely when he sees Jon, also standing outside earlier than agreed upon, and Jon almost turns around to see if someone’s behind him. But there isn’t. That smile, unfettered and full of joy—it’s… it’s for him.

Surely, Martin is just… happy to see him leaving the office while it’s still light out for once. He’s certainly chided Jon enough times for his habit of falling asleep at his desk. (Which he’s been trying to do less lately, if only because it would be easy for someone to sneak up on him while he’s unconscious and slip a knife into his back or poison his tea or shoot him three times in the chest or—)

“R-Ready to head out?” Martin says, abruptly halting Jon’s train of thought. He tries not to look like he’d just been theorizing about his own inevitable demise as he mumbles his assent and follows Martin away from the Institute and into the still-bustling streets of London.

And if he presses close to Martin’s side while they walk, well. It’s just because every brush of unfamiliar contact against him feels overwhelming, enough so to make him flinch away. And if he takes Martin’s hand for a small period of time, well. It’s just because the crowd has thickened and he doesn’t want them to get separated. And if he feels particularly warm in his jacket when Martin laughs awkwardly at his own joke and rubs at the back of his neck, well. That’s just from exertion. It is quite a far walk to the restaurant.

The bistro is lovely. Jon typically doesn’t go for places like this—tucked between two nondescript buildings with a glass front that reveals soft, intimate lighting within and flowers planted in boxes outside—but once they’re inside and seated at their table, it’s… oddly charming. Jon shrugs out of his jacket, and even though it’s the same shirt he’s been wearing all day, Martin compliments him on it with a flush. The change from frigid winter air to the warmth of the bistro brings heat to Jon’s face as well, and he rolls up the cuffs of his sleeves to just below his elbows. Martin makes a choking sound, but when Jon looks up with a frown, he has his glass of water pressed to his lips.

“Sorry,” Martin says once he’s placed the glass back on the table. “Just, um. Uh. Tickle in my throat. A-Allergies, you know.”

Martin’s face pinches in what looks like a repressed wince, and Jon tries to be reassuring. After all, Martin is taking time out of his schedule to be here with Jon, and Jon doesn’t want to seem ungrateful. His grandmother taught him proper manners, and besides, he is… rather glad to be here.

His commiseration about his own experiences with seasonal allergies turns into a mini-lecture on the species of pollen-producing plants in their area. He only realizes he’s doing it when the waiter comes by with a cheery smile and asks if they’re ready to order.

Jon’s mouth snaps shut mid-sentence. He has not even opened his menu.

“I. Um.” Jon is about to ask for more time—which he strongly dislikes doing, as he’s had the waiting staff forget more than once about his table and he’s had to go through the mortifying ordeal of hailing them down like a-a bloody taxi—when Martin tilts his own menu toward Jon and points to an item in the middle of the page.

“They have chicken karahi and naan. I, er. I heard it’s good if you’re… interested.”

Jon blinks at the menu in surprise. “That… sounds great, actually. Er, medium spice, please.”

Martin orders his own squash curry, and the waiter takes their menus when he departs, leaving the spot in front of Jon oddly empty. Jon taps his fingers on the newly barren tabletop a few times, trying and failing to remember where he’d left off in his lecture. Ultimately, he gives up, deciding that Martin isn’t going to be interested in hearing about all of that and he’s already said enough on the subject.

Then, Martin says, “So, you were saying—about the pollen?” and something in Jon’s chest squeezes, an emotion he doesn’t know the name of. Relief, maybe, as Martin’s words manage to spark his memory and he picks up his train of thought again easily enough. Yes, that’s… that’s probably it.

The first few times they’d gone to lunch, Jon had made an effort to stop himself from rambling, as he was prone to do any time someone gave him the opportunity. He’d engrossed himself in his sandwiches and rice bowls and mediocre Chinese takeaway in order to keep from launching into an explanation of the origins of said folding takeaway containers or the documentary he’d watched recently about the Zhou dynasty. And the first few lunches had been… awkward. It wasn’t because Jon thought Martin was a murderer—he doesn’t think he’d have agreed to go for lunch if he truly believed that Martin might harm him. It was just… how things like this went when Jon was involved. He knows he struggles with casual conversation, and he’s never understood the purpose or execution of ‘small talk.’ He would be perfectly content to eat and exist in silence, except all too often he feels expected to provide some sort of conversation or entertainment, upon which point the silence becomes horribly oppressive and stress-inducing.

But he also knows that talking too much can be just as bad as not talking enough. His grandmother had always told him so. So he suffered through the awkward silences for the first few days, and Martin had let him, clearly assuming that if Jon wasn’t speaking, he shouldn’t either.

Then, around their fourth or fifth lunch together, Martin had begun to ask him questions. They were casual, genuine, and so clearly targeted at Jon’s interests that Jon was convinced that Martin was somehow following him home or searching through his computer history or—or something. On their eighth lunch together, Martin asked Jon about the newest exhibit at the museum—it had been about sharks, if Jon remembers correctly—and Jon couldn’t help asking how Martin knew that he’d gone to see it. He hadn’t explicitly asked if Martin had been following him, but he’s sure the sentiment was clear in his eyes.

The tips of Martin’s cheeks had grown red, and he’d said that Jon had mentioned a few days prior that he was planning on going. All traces of fear and paranoia had left Jon’s mind then, replaced by surprise and, beneath it, something warm and bubbly. Martin had remembered.

Their conversations had gotten a lot easier after that.

Despite how Martin seems to enjoy Jon’s long-winded tangents, he… does still make an effort not to hold a completely one-sided conversation. So, a few minutes into the continuation of his pollen discussion, he finds a natural stopping point and says, “So, er. You… like being outside?”

Not the most… articulated question Jon has ever asked. But Martin doesn’t seem to mind. His fingers curl around the bottom of his water glass, his palms smudging the condensation. “Yeah, w-when I can find the time, I suppose. I-I try to go for walks around my neighborhood if I can, if it’s not too dark by the time I get home, and there’s this park in—”

Martin cuts off with a small cough. He lifts his glass and takes a long sip, while Jon sits and drums his fingers against the table and tries not to bounce his leg too noticeably. “Sorry,” Martin says as soon as the glass leaves his lips, giving Jon an apologetic smile that somehow seems… artificial. Like it’s been plastered atop another, heavier expression. “S-Something in my throat again.” He hesitates, then continues, “There’s a park in Devon that I-I like, whenever I’m in that area.”

Devon’s quite a trip away, Jon thinks but doesn’t say. Why do you go to Devon? he doesn’t say. Is that where you go on Saturdays? he doesn’t say, because—well. It’s rather embarrassing, among other things, to admit to the fact that you’ve gone through your employee’s desk calendar because you thought he might have shot an old woman three times in the chest and had plans to do the same to you. Particularly when you are having dinner with said employee.

Ugh. Probably best not to think about the fact that he is technically Martin’s boss when he’s sitting three feet away from him at a candlelit table on what, to an outside observer, might look startlingly similar to a date.

But it’s not a date. Because Martin didn’t say it was a date, and he’s just trying to care for Jon, in that… over-the-top way that he does. Jon tries to muster up some irritation at the reminder that he’s likely being coddled, just for habit’s sake, but comes up empty.

He hasn’t been truly irritated with Martin in quite some time. He… doesn’t really know when that changed. When Martin became a source of comfort, rather than of annoyance.

“Jon?” Martin says. Right. Martin is still sitting across from him.

“Right,” Jon says, trying to sound like he hasn’t been drifting off in a hundred different directions. “That sounds… nice.”

Martin’s lips curl up into a small smile. “Yeah. I-It is. It, um. It makes the trip worth it, to be able to sit on one of the benches and just… write poetry.”

Jon has read some of Martin’s poetry, though Martin doesn’t know that. Jon doesn’t like poetry. Jon liked Martin’s poetry. These are, apparently, two truths that can and do coexist.

Jon does not mean to say, “Could I hear one?” But it appears that he is weary enough and relaxed enough and distracted enough that his verbal filter has small, critical holes in it. Damn.

Martin sputters. “U-Um, well, I-I suppose… I could, I-I do have a few, er. M-Memorized, if you—you really…” He trails off uncertainly. “You’re. Um. You’re sure?”

Well. Nothing to do but lean into it, Jon supposes. “I wouldn’t have asked if I weren’t sure, Martin,” he says, a bit snippier than he intends. The tips of his ears are hot, and he is deeply thankful that the dimness of the bistro hides the way they’re surely darkening.

“R-Right.” Martin clears his throat, looks down at the table. “I-I suppose I’ll just… do a short one?”

He proceeds to recite, in quiet, surprisingly stutterless lines, one of the poems that Jon already knows from the notebooks he’d left behind in the Archives. It’s… his favorite, if he were forced to pick one. But there is something different—something more—about hearing Martin speak the words aloud rather than simply reading them on a page. Martin pauses in places Jon hadn’t thought to pause, lingers on words he hadn’t thought to linger on, and adds a softness to the ends of lines and phrases that Jon finds himself enraptured by.

Logically, he knows that it’s not good poetry. He’d begrudgingly taken a poetry class during uni, had hated every minute of it, and had donated all of his books to charity shops the moment he wasn’t in need of them anymore. He’s read Dickens and Poe and Whitman—all the works that are considered great representations of their art form.

Martin’s poetry is nothing like theirs. His lines don’t follow the same rhythms; his words are clumsier, his images less profound. But still, even though Jon knows that it is technically not good poetry, he… he likes it.

He tries not to analyze that feeling too closely.

“So, um. Yeah,” Martin says after he finishes, rubbing his thumb over his ring. “I-It’s not really… great work, heh, you know, s-sorry.”

Jon is not the comforting sort. He’s been told that he’s too sharp at the edges, skin too full of spines and thorns. So he surprises himself, and probably his grandmother from beyond the grave, when he reaches across the table and takes Martin’s hand in his. It’s soft and big, the pads of Martin’s fingers lightly calloused from a past history of manual labor, and Jon thinks just for a moment how small his own hands look in Martin’s. He surprises himself even more when he says, honestly, “I enjoyed it, Martin.”

Martin blinks at him, eyes wide and owlish. His hand is rigid in Jon’s, like he’s afraid that if he moves, he’ll frighten Jon away like a skittish cat. “O-Oh.” It’s hard to tell in the dim light, but Jon thinks Martin might be blushing. “Well. T-Thanks.”

Jon nods once stiffly. He does not retract his hand. At first, it’s because he doesn’t think to do so, too wrapped up in the feeling of his skin against Martin’s. Then, it’s because it’s been long enough that doing so would be more awkward than keeping his hand there. He asks Martin about the inspiration behind the poem, for want of another conversation topic, and Martin talks about the trip he took to the countryside once and how it stuck with him, and Jon’s hand remains atop Martin’s. Martin takes a drink from his glass, and Jon takes a drink from his, but both of them use their free hands, as if in unspoken agreement that this is just how things are now. Jon’s hand is resting atop Martin’s and it will be until he has just cause to move it and that is just the way of the universe. Nothing to be done about it.

Their food comes, and looking extremely regretful about the fact, Martin extracts his hand from underneath Jon’s and reaches for his fork. They don’t mention the loss, and it’s quiet for a period of time while Jon eats his chicken karahi and Martin eats his squash curry and Jon tries not to openly moan at how good the food is.

Something must show on his face, because Martin smiles warmly at him and says, “Well? Was that Yelp reviewer correct when they said that the chicken karahi is ‘literally the best food they’ve ever eaten in their entire life’?”

Jon swallows a bite of admittedly very good chicken. “Well. I don’t know that I would quite go to that extreme, but it is rather enjoyable.” Reminds me of the way my grandmother used to make it, he doesn’t say. That feels like a date conversation, and this isn’t a date.

(It feels very much like a date.)

(It isn’t a date.)

“Good,” Martin says. Then, he smiles, wide and unabashed and like a ray of sunlight, and Jon quickly buries himself in his food again so he doesn’t say something foolish like I really like it when you smile at me like that or Is this a date? or I would very much like this to be a date.

They finish eating, and the waiter takes away their plates with the promise of bringing the check soon. Jon’s hands rest on the table, index finger fiddling with the edge of the cloth placemat in front of him. He’s in the middle of trying to convince himself that yes, it would be ridiculous to take Martin’s hand again, you should definitely not do that on this very much not-a-date, when Martin reaches out and takes Jon’s hand in his. Properly takes it, pressing their palms together and slotting his fingers easily between Jon’s and knocking their rings together as he squeezes gently.

“Um,” Jon says eloquently. He should very much not ask if this is a date. “What are you doing?”

Nope, that’s worse. That’s definitely worse.

“Oh!” Martin lets go of Jon’s hand immediately, and Jon does not try to chase Martin’s hand as it retracts, thank you very much. He’s more dignified than that. “S-Sorry, I thought… I, um. Never mind. I-I shouldn’t have… sorry. Again.”

“It’s fine,” Jon finds himself saying. Then, in an effort to do damage control: “I… didn’t mind.”

“You… didn’t?” Martin seems confused, which is understandable. If Georgie were here, she’d tell him that he’s giving, quote, ‘mixed signals.’ He’d never quite understood what counts as ‘mixed signals,’ and he doesn’t know that he ever will.

“I did not,” Jon confirms. “I just… I suppose I…”

He should not ask if this is a date. He really, really shouldn’t.

“Is this a-a date?”

It appears he’s found another one of the holes in his verbal filter. Lovely.

Martin’s eyes grow impossibly wider. He makes a series of sputtering sounds as Jon waits and tries not to bounce a hole through the floor with the heel of his foot. “You—you didn’t…” Martin seems to have a miniature internal debate with himself, his face cycling through a dozen different expressions over the next few seconds. Finally, he sighs and says, eyes fixated on the table between them, “I had… intended it to be. Though I suppose if—if you didn’t know it was a date, that. Um. Kind of defeats the purpose.”

“Does it?” Jon’s mouth says without his permission.

“I-I mean… you can’t really have a one-sided date,” Martin says with an awkward laugh. The waiter is nowhere to be seen, which Jon is grateful for and disheartened by in equal measure. This situation would certainly be easier with a convenient escape.

“I… suppose.” Jon worries at the edge of the placemat, pulling on a loose thread. “Though, it’s… if this were a date—or, I suppose, if I-I’d known it was meant to be a date—I… wouldn’t have acted much differently.” He pulls harder at the thread, feeling a bit bad for the way the fabric bunches around it. “I… would not have been… that is to say, I would have liked it if… rather, to say that I didn’t think about it would be, er… well, incorrect.”

Martin stares at him, clearly unable to make sense of Jon’s admittedly disjointed, half-finished sentences. Jon sighs and says, under his breath, “I am not opposed to considering tonight a date.”

Martin’s cheeks are red enough now that Jon can see the flush, even in the dim light. “U-Um. What?”

“I am not opposed,” Jon repeats, louder, “to considering tonight a date.” Lord, that’s mortifying to say out loud. How do people do this? To emphasize his point, he sticks his hand out, palm-up on the table. It’s stiff and awkward and he probably looks like a cat with its hackles raised. He focuses on the cable knit of Martin’s jumper so he doesn’t have to see whatever amused or mocking or disappointed expression is on Martin’s face as he realizes just how bad Jon is at all of this.

Martin is quiet for a moment. Then, just as Jon is about to pull his hand away and flee for the exit, he feels a touch against his palm. Martin’s hand settles tentatively atop his—not weaving their fingers together, not even properly holding it, just… pressing together, palm to palm. Jon can feel Martin’s heartbeat faintly against the tips of his fingers where they press against the inside of Martin’s wrist. “Okay,” Martin says softly, like Jon has just given him a precious gift. “Then it’s a date.”

It’s a date. Jon’s skin has absolutely no reason to prickle at those words, nor does his stomach have any reason to squeeze and sprout butterflies. He nods, a bit brusquely, and opens his mouth to say something—god knows what—when the waiter appears next to their table, somehow having both comically bad and impossibly good timing.

Martin pays, despite Jon’s insistence that he can cover his own share, and then they’re back out in the cool night air, making their way toward the tube station. The first few minutes are quiet. There’s a tension between them that feels more anticipatory than awkward. Their hands brush once, twice. Then, on the third time, Martin hooks his fingers around Jon’s and clasps his hand in his, and Jon lets out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding.

They hold hands all the way to the tube station, up until they have to part ways to take separate lines. Jon runs through all the things that he thinks he’s supposed to say in a situation like this—I had fun tonight or We should do this again sometime or… something—but ends up saying instead, “How long have you…?”

He trails off, squeezing Martin’s hand a few times thoughtlessly, like a warm, bony stress ball. Martin seems to infer the rest of his question, however, because he squeezes Jon’s hand in return and says, “It’s… new for me too, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Jon nods and squeezes Martin’s hand again. He thinks that’s going to become quite a habit if they keep this up. “Right.”

Martin hesitates, before letting his grip on Jon’s hand loosen slightly. “We… we don’t have to do this again if you don’t want to. I-I know things are complicated right now, and I…” He worries his bottom lip between his teeth. “I want to do this again, for… for what it’s worth. But I get it. If you don’t, that is. For—for any reason.”

“I do,” Jon says, surprising himself with his conviction. “I-I don’t… you’re right. Things are… complicated.” That’s certainly a word for it. “But I… I trust you, Martin. O-Or… I want to trust you.” He takes a deep breath. “I am making the decision to trust you.” It’s hard and it’s terrifying and there’s an animal instinct deep within Jon that’s telling him not to expose his vulnerable side, but… somehow, despite all of that, Martin makes him feel… well. Not safe, but as close to safe as he can get right now. Which is an accomplishment in its own right.

Martin exhales slowly and gives Jon a small, hesitant smile. “Thank you. I-I know that’s difficult, and I…” Martin squeezes Jon’s hand, just once. “I-I’m happy.”

And Jon finds that he means it when he says softly, “I’m happy too.”

Martin gets on his train, and Jon gets on his. And despite the ever-present itching beneath his skin and the persistent belief that something isn’t right and the knowledge that he is likely a hunted man, from the moment he lets go of Martin’s hand to the moment he closes his eyes and curls onto his side in bed, that happiness remains.

#tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #jonmartin #ask #anon #this got so incredibly long... i hope you like it!#my writing #my fic

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of-another-broken-heart · 3 years ago

Text

Anyway. Doctor appointment today.

Mom’s car did start.

Whole appointment took less than an hour. That surprised me.

I almost forgot the letter. I remembered it, though. Had to go up and down the stairs an extra time for it.

Went over the whole thing. Even remembered to mention the 2 things that weren’t in the letter - my right knee’s cartilage degradation (no pain or negative impact to mobility, just clicks when going up stairs), and the loophole of getting around some insurance stupidity regarding 3-month prescription coverage. Doctor and nurses were all pleasant. I got asked IF I wanted to do a weigh-in today, instead of having to refuse. That was a nice change.

Mentioned having to go to the ER, bad teeth, abscess, getting kicked out of Urgent Care because they have a “then die” policy if you can’t do their paperless shit. No real comment there. She’s not a dentist. There are no dentists. And she doesn’t have anything to do with the Urgent Care office.

And, as usual, nothing to be done about the fatigue. Maybe some supplements will help. But probably not. Anxiety and sleep though, we can fuss over those again. Put out a prescription for magnesium - gotta wait for it to hit CVS and find out if my insurance will cover it or not. I completely neglected to mention that I’ve been relying on “non habit forming” allergy meds to try to mitigate some anxiety problems, and sedate myself. Talked hydroxyzine, also for anxiety/sleep. Doc said she could put out a fill for that. Confirmed the dosage I mentioned testing, based on my own research after stopping using it as purely a sleep aid. Might even be a hefty one, so I won’t have to worry about monthly refills. And I would be using it as-needed, not necessarily daily. So, if it goes through okay, I’ll be set for a while. Just waiting for that to hit CVS. I think my insurance fully covers that one. Zero dollar copay. That almost offsets my concern about the magnesium being uncovered and auto-charged to my account. Almost.

I got my blood drawn for routine testing. Thyroid stuff. I don’t normally feel up to looking, but today I glanced down and watched three little tubes get filled up with my liquid life. Gauze and medical tape over the draw point.

I got jabbed with B12, because why the fuck not. It helped the first time or two. Didn’t work much another time. They can’t use it on anyone else, and there’s no outright cons to getting the vitamin juice. I got a green bandaid over the shot spot. (It didn’t really do much, again.) (the bandaid is already falling off)

The car struggled to start. But it did. Mom asked if I was up to going anywhere else. I said yes. We went to Dollar Tree. Which is actually Dollar-twenty-five Tree, now. It was nice to walk around, see dumb little decor items and garbage quality holiday treats. It was depressing as hell, though. I already feel guilty for every cent and dollar I cost. And now it’s even more. And then when we were done, the cashier was being loudly anti-mask and anti-vax to a similarly opinionated customer. And there I am. In a KN95 mask AND a cloth mask. Immunocompromised and in a store for the first time in months. And I can’t have that. I’m not allowed ONE single outing, without being reminded how fucking garbage this world is, how selfish and fucking STUPID the people are, and how happy - and enthusiastic! - people are to see me dead.

Not quite sure how I’ve managed to stay awake the last 4 hours. I’m trying to do some boring routine video game things. I can’t focus worth shit. It’s taken 2-3x as long as it should, already.

I am so alone. Because of course I am. Who wants to deal with this? No one. Happy - and enthusiastic! - to see me dead. One less person to pretend to care about, what a relief. That’s how it’ll be. If anyone even bothers to notice. And I have low, low expectations for that. Single digits.

And the person who’d make the biggest difference to me? Will be relieved. Glad. If he ever even realizes in the first place. I mean nothing to him. I mean nothing to most people, though. That’s just reality. Caring is a thing of the past. We built a world that burned it all up, bled it all out of people.

My doctor did mention baths. “Well, you need a bath tub for that, don’t you?” Sad smile. Yeah.

#personal #love is a curse

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straightupsickfics · 4 years ago

Note

🤧🎋❣️for any tony ship? thank you!

ahh, i went with ironhusbands for this one 🥺(sneezing, allergies, soft kisses)

*****

Tony’s phone vibrates in his hand, and he almost drops it as he tries to read the message on the screen, unlock the door, and keep a knuckle pressed firmly under his nose.

Pushing through the door, Tony’s nose gives another tentative twitch, and it’s all he can do to close the door again and dump all of his stuff on the couch as his sinuses continue to drive him to distraction with the relentless need to get rid of nearly a week’s worth of DC pollen.

Tony shakes his head, trying to clear away the itch in frustration, but it has the opposite effect, shaking something loose instead, and the itchy feeling he’d been battling the whole way home crests into something he can no longer control.

“TSH! Ii’hitsh! Hd’tsh! Eiiishh’iew!” Tony sniffles, swearing under his breath as he goes to the bathroom to find tissues. Every time. He was going to tell Fury he refused to go next time, because steely glare be damned, it wasn’t worth the consequences for him to face springtime in Washington.

Somewhat composed, Tony brings the box of tissues with him out to the living room and sinks into the couch. The hotel he’d stayed in had been...fine, but they weren’t home, not here, in the house he and Rhodey had assembled together over the last few years. The thought reminds Tony to pick up his phone again; Rhodey should be home soon, too.

Running late and stopping for pizza... you know neither of us are cooking tonight.

Tony smiles at this. He certainly wasn’t cooking tonight. Almost a week apart from his husband was more than enough, and though he’d had other plans in mind, Tony knows he’ll be spending the better part of his evening sneezing and rubbing at his nose.

As if the thought was enough to set him off again, Tony’s nostrils flare once more, and he just manages to grab a handful of tissues from the box and muffle another strong, itchy fit of sneezes into them.

“huhhESHH’oo! EISHHooo!” They’re stronger this time, resigned as Tony is to his fate. He spent the whole way home rubbing at his nose, willing himself not to sneeze too often or too loudly and disturb anyone, but now, well… Now he’s exhausted and just. Itchy. His eyes water as his breath catches again, mouth falling slack as he builds up to another sneeze.

“HHh! Huh- eehh…EIIISHH’IEW! ITSH! Hu’Eeetshh!” The fit comes in a rush, itchy and desperate and… a complete relief, honestly. Catching his breath, Tony blows his nose again, wondering if he’s too late to ask Rhodey to pick up Benadryl for him on his way home. If nothing else, it’ll knock him out early.

“Bless you, Tones,” a voice says from behind him, confirming that, yes, Tony had missed his chance to ask, but it doesn’t matter because Rhodey is home.

“Hi, sugar plum,” Tony says, turning to face his husband and frowning at how stuffed up he sounds.

“Hello to you, too,” Rhodey says, wrapping his arms around Tony’s waist for a long, tight hug before pulling away and looking at him. “Your nose is pink. How long have you been back?”

“Fifteen minutes? Maybe?” Tony wrinkles his nose against a renewed itch, and buries his face in against Rhodey’s shoulder. “It’s been like this the whole t-time-iiihh…”

He does his best to pinch back the sneeze, but is only half successful. “Hh! Hdt-SHH! Utshh! UTSHH!”

“Bless you! Tony, you can just let yourself sneeze, okay? Did you bring Claritin with you like I said?” Rhodey asks, leaning down and kissing the top of Tony’s nose, which does nothing to help the situation. Somehow though, Tony can’t bring himself to do more than roll his eyes and smile at the attention.

“Snf! Ndot enough, apparently,” Tony huffs.

“Good thing you have a genius for a husband, then, hm?” Rhodey asks, voice teasing as he gestures to a CVS bag on the couch. He pulls out a new bottle of Claritin, tissues, and even, god bless him, Benadryl.

“Can I marry you again? Is that a thing? Or did you read my mind, like some, perfect husband mind-reading magic thing that I have yet to discover?”

Rhodey chuckles, passing Tony a new handful of tissues. “I just know you, and you always get back from DC like this,” he says. “I’ll take perfect husband, though, too, since I also got you pizza,” he adds, smiling. He leans over and brushes their lips together softly, and really, that’s as much a welcome home as anything.

“Deal,” Tony sighs, content to let Rhodey guide him over to the couch to dab at his watery eyes, and blow his nose a few more times while he grabbed plates and napkins for dinner.

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randomappeal · 2 years ago

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Analgesics & Sedatives: COX Inhibitors

COX stands for cyclooxygenase. This is an enzyme that's responsible for all kinds of stuff. There are 2 receptors that we'll deal with specifically - COX-1 and COX-2. They perform the following tasks:

GI (COX-1)

Increases mucus secretion

Increases bicarbonate

Increases mucosal blood flow

Kidney (COX-1 and COX-2)

Dilates the afferent arteriolar to increased GFR

Increases Na+ and water secretion

Cardiovascular (this one depends on the receptor)

COX-1 will cause vasoconstriction, while COX-2 will cause vasodilation

COX-1 will cause platelet aggregation, while COX-2 will inhibit platelet aggregation

COX-1 inhibition generally leads to cardiovascular benefits, while COX-2 inhibition leads to anti-inflammatory effects. However, adverse effects of this inhibition include:

GI (COX-1 Inhibition)

Peptic ulcers

GI bleeding

You've gotten rid of the extra mucus secretions, so you can have more GI bleeding now

Kidney (COX-1 and COX-2 Inhibition)

Na+ and water retention

Hypertension

Hemodynamic AKI

You're not excreting as much water and you're selfishly storing up the sodium, so you'll have too much fluid in your veins while your kidneys are saying "what gives, homie!"

Cardiovascular (COX-1 and COX-2 Inhibition)

Stroke

Think clots and all the problems they cause when they escape

So now we get into the drugs. There are four this time:

Ibuprofen (Advil/Caldolor) - COX-1 and COX-2 Inhibitor

Ketorolac (Toradol) - COX-1 and COX-2 Inhibitor

Celecoxib (Celebrex) - COX-2 Inhibitor only

Acetaminophen (Tylenol, Ofirmev) - CNS COX inhibitor

Uses

Ibuprofen and Ketorolac both help with pain, inflammation and fever

Ketorolac provides pain relief similar to morphine without the respiratory depression, so it's a great alternative for folks unable to use opioids (oh happy place, here we come)

Celecoxib helps with pain and inflammation, but not fever

Acetaminophen helps with pain and fever, but not inflammation

For inflammation, think about things like RA, OA, bursitis, or tendonitis

Side Effects

These side effects are primarily for Ibuprofen and Ketorolac because they block both COX receptors, so you'll see effects in the GI, kidneys and cardiovascular system:

GI effects (N/V/D, abdominal pain)

Bleeding

Renal impairment

Increased risk for thrombotic events

Hypersensitivity - SJS (rare side effect)

Celecoxib only blocks COX-2, so you won't see issues in the GI, only the kidney and CV:

Increased risk of MI, CVA or other CV-related issues

Renal impairment

Sulfa-cross allergy (oddball, but specific to Celecoxib)

Finally, Acetaminophen has a small, but unique subset of issues:

Hypersensitivity - SJS (rare - shares this with their big brother, Ibuprofen)

Increased BP with daily use

Hepatotoxicity with excessive doses and Alcohol (more than 3 in a day)

This has a dosage limit - 2000 mg/day max for liver issues, but a healthy liver can handle up to 4000 mg/day

Nursing Considerations/Interventions

So what to do about these babies? Well couple of things:

Ibuprofen: Take it with milk, food or antacids to reduce the risk of GI effects, like bleeding

Ketorolac: You can only use this for 5 days max!

Acetaminophen: Acetaminophen and alcohol do not mix (think AA)

Acetaminophen: Assess, asses...the liver - check for pain in RUQ

All drugs

Monitor renal function - you don't want to mess up your kidneys

None of these will provide protection against MIs or CVAs, so monitor any CV issues accordingly

What if you O/D?

Acetaminophen is often used in suicide attempts, but never fear! It has an antidote called Acetylcysteine. Give this ASAP to prevent severe liver damage. You can give orally or IV, but if you give oral then dilute in water, juice or coke first.

That's all! Next up will be RA drugs.

#pharmacology #nursing school #analgesics #cox inhibitors #nclexrn prep

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travelingtheusa · 3 years ago

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VIRGINIA

2022 May 26 (Thu) – When I woke up this morning, I found two pools of blood. Bonnie is bleeding profusely. She needs to go to the doctor. We couldn’t do it today because we move tomorrow. I will try to get her into a vet tomorrow when we arrive in New Holland. Bonnie is having trouble eating. I gave her just can food and put it in a bowl with a lower rim so her nose wouldn’t rub on it.

At 11:00 a.m. we drove to a clinic so I could get something for my throat. The doctor prescribed an antibiotic (Amoxicillin) and a lidocaine gargle. Unfortunately, the gargle stuff is a thick gel and doesn’t pour out easily. I tried mixing it with water but the stuff only made my tongue and mouth numb. It did nothing for the swollen tonsils. *sigh*

After CVS, we dropped a package off at the post office then went to lunch at the Backseat Pub & Grill. I had a hamburger steak (dry and overcooked) and Paul had steamed shrimp (tough and chewy). It wasn’t that good.

We drove into Historic Winchester, parked, and walked along the brick covered roadway. They have a couple of blocks blocked off to traffic with lots of shops and restaurants. The day was pleasant and it was a nice stroll along the pathway.

I found some blood spatters around the RV today. This seems to happen when Bonnie sneezes. It looks like one nostril is full of dried blood. I hope she doesn’t have these growths in her sinus cavity as well as her gums.

2022 May 25 (Wed) – We packed up and headed out at 9:20 a.m. Although the sky was overcast, we did not run into any rainstorms. Traffic was backed up going in the opposite direction as we started out. There was construction in the way.

We arrived at Candy Hill Campground in Winchester at 1:00 p.m. It is a very nicely kept facility. The guy who led us to our site in his golf cart said the campground has been here for 30 or 40 years (he’s obviously NOT the owner). We backed into our site with a row of pine trees in the back of the row of RVs. The roadway is single lane, hard packed dirt. We have full hookups with cable TV and the opportunity to pay for WiFi service.

We did the laundry this afternoon. The campground has a small unit with four washers and four dryers. Cost was $1.50 for each machine. That’s a pretty reasonable rate.

Bonnie is doing so much better. The redness and swelling on her belly are gone. Her step is a little more springy (if you can be springy at 14 years; 100 years in human time). We have been using special expanded stairs we bought years ago for Parker. Glad we hung on to them. I found a vet in PA who will take the stitches out. That’s a relief to be able to fit the appointment in with our caravan activities.

2022 May 24 (Tue) – We went out to get fuel for tomorrow’s move. We had lunch at Anthony’s famous restaurant. It was a large southern style, wooden cabin style restaurant. They had a very large menu selection. We both had salads. Then we got fuel and picked up dog food. Bonnie is doing better. Most of the redness on her belly has faded and she walking a little better. She seems more chipper, too. Now we just have to figure out when to get her stitches out since it’s during the first week of the caravan and we will be very busy. Life goes on.

I woke again at 3:30 this morning coughing so bad I thought I was going to bring up a lung. I could barely breathe, my tonsils were swollen so bad. My throat was on fire. I got up and sat in the lounge chair, dozing on and off between coughing fits. Again, the day started out rough but I felt better as the day wore on. I took the second COVID test tonight and it was negative again. That means I don’t have the virus. Thank goodness. But now I have to go to the clinic to get something for the coughing and swollen tonsils. I think it’s some kind of allergies. I have heard people complaining about the amount of pollen in the air these days.

2022 May 23 (Mon) – We packed up and left Harmony, NC, at 10 a.m. It rained most of the way to our next destination at Dixie Caverns Campground in Salem. They do not have a sign out on the road so we almost missed the entrance. Right up front, they have a large office advertising tours of the caverns. We drove past it to what we thought was the office. Turned out, the large office was also the check-in for RVs. We left the RV parked in the road and walked back to the office. Our site is pull through with full hookups. There are lots of trees in the area. The campground has cable TV because the mountains make it hard to get a satellite signal.

I woke at 3:30 this morning, coughing and my throat on fire. I got up and sat in the lounge chair. That helped a little. I took Ivermectin and have been sucking on cough drops all day long. They help to ease the burn. While I started out feeling lousy this morning, I was feeling better by the afternoon. We ran out to the store and picked up some supplements (zinc, quercetin, and turmeric), then to Kroger to get some groceries and COVID test kit. I took the test and it was negative. The kit says if you get a negative test, you need to do it again in 24 hours. So I guess I’ll take it again tomorrow.

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middleageamerican · 3 years ago

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allergies

ur reply is gr8 my mild seasonal allergies hit when r Emirates plane hit JFK . . now at CVS w Hana already have some relief fr the OTC med ciao sis

View On WordPress

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umberandmochaagate · 3 years ago

Text

It's just the way stores that are supposed to be helpful at different hours/emergencies aren't even that anymore.

Like Walgreens used to be 24 hrs. Now they're all closed by midnight. Okay...? Some close at 10pm on weekdays. Hm... But these be the only places with meds for pain, allergies, etc and now they're closed hella early. Have an emergency (that doesn't require a hospital) past 11:30pm? Sucks to be you. Need baby medicine? Oh well. Ran out of menstrual items or forgot to bring one? Should've thought of that before you forgot. In dire pain and need a reliever? Have sleep.

And not even just medicine and things. If someone wants to get a snack for whatever reason, that should be possible. If my contact lens solution finishes, I should be able to get more. Maybe I need moisturizer, and popping right in and out should be a thing.

Walmart isn't always a solution. As a matter of fact, two of the closest Walmarts to my place aren't 24 hrs, so you run into the same problem. And before getting to the most closest one, you hit two Walgreens, a CVS, a Publix, and three dollar stores even. Gas stations aren't a best option either, especially if a lot of them have less lighting and security outside in the lots than the big chains. And that only covers snacks and maybe a few small medicines.

This isn't on the workers or none of that. It's how it leaves ppl with no resources to help themselves (or another). Even before covid, they started doing these things with the hours. It's inconvenient. Sometimes it's past inconvenient—ppl suffer. Where can you get even a bit of relief if there's no where actually accessible for it?

#things I've been thinking about for years?#or whenever they started changing the hours #double it cuz I can't even move my leg #and there's no where to get even icy hot #can't drive cuz it's my leg #no one can pass by cuz they're closed #😒

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healthcare-market · 3 years ago

Text

Retail Clinics Market Size to Develop Lucratively by 2025

Global Retail Clinics Market - Overview

Retail clinics are the ones that provide primary healthcare services across departmental stores, supermarkets, and retail stores. These clinics have a registration desk, a waiting area, washroom, a couple of examination rooms, and a small desk for reception. These retail clinics are gaining immense popularity as they are highly beneficial for public health, easily accessible, and also help in reducing the pressure on public healthcare services.

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Global Retail Clinics Market - Notable Developments

The competitive landscape of the global retail clinics market is a fragmented one. The companies are looking to invest heavily in research and development in order to more efficiently serve their patients. Some of the key companies in the global retail clinics market are Bellin Health Systems, Walgreen Co., CVS Health, NextCare, Rite Aid Corp, RediClinic, and Kaiser Foundation Health Plan Inc. among others..

Global Retail Clinics Market – Drivers and Restraints

One of the biggest driving factors for the development of the global retail clinics market is their cost efficiency. Another important driving factor is the innovation in providing preventive and acute care to patients. With the growing prevalence of illness and diseases such as sore throat, infections, flu, cold, cough, fever, and allergies, there is a rising demand for retail clinics. This too has helped in driving the growth of the global market in recent years. In addition to this, these clinics are also preferred for offering superior care and relief to overcrowded emergency centers and hospitals in the present healthcare scenarios.

Another important driving factor for the growth of the global retail clinics market is their huge set of advantage. There is less waiting time, higher ease of accessibility, and relatively lesser costs. Such benefits are also adding to their increasing popularity and thus driving the overall growth.

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Global Retail Clinics Market – Geographical Outlook

The global retail clinics market features a vast geographical landscape with five major regional segments. These regions are North America, Latin America, Asia Pacific, Middle East and Africa, and Europe. Among these, the regional segment of North America has been the most dominant segment in recent years. The regional market is expected to continue to dominate the global market in the coming years of the forecast period ranging from 2019 to 2027. The growth the regional segment is because of the growing preference for retail clinics as they provide highly efficient and cost effective services. Moreover, their insurance coverage is also improving in recent times.

The retail clinics market in Europe is expected to witness a positive growth in coming years of the forecast period. This growth of the European market is due to the increasing emphasis on preventive care with an objective of reducing indirect as well as direct hospitalization expenses associated with treatment of several diseases. Cutting down of waiting time and highly active support from governments are some of the other key factors that are helping to drive the retail clinics market in Europe.

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On the other hand, the regional segment of Asia Pacific is projected to have a highly promising rate of growth in the coming years of the forecast period. Growing population and improving efforts to cut down the pressure on hospitals, and growing focus on outpatient care are some of the key factors for the development of Asia Pacific market.

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