#google health

[jrizoseo]

Google Health está transformando cómo accedemos y gestionamos nuestra información médica. En JRizo, exploramos cómo esta plataforma puede mejorar el cuidado de la salud mediante la tecnología avanzada y la inteligencia artificial. Google Health facilita un acceso rápido y seguro a datos médicos, ofrece herramientas para el seguimiento de la salud personal y proporciona recursos informativos que empoderan tanto a pacientes como a profesionales de la salud. Descubre más sobre sus funciones y beneficios en nuestro artículo detallado en JRizo. Aprovecha al máximo la tecnología para cuidar mejor de tu salud con Google Health.

[thefrontpress]

Google experts have developed an AI tool that detects diseases

Google experts have developed an AI tool that detects diseases. According to a statement issued by Google, the new AI tool detects diseases by coughing, sneezing, speaking, and breathing. For the experiment Read more

[shalahowell]

"What's a doctor doing at Google?"

One of the minor social benefits of being married to an ICU doctor is that it is really easy to explain to people what my husband does. But since my husband started at Google it's been a bit trickier. "What's a doctor doing at Google?"

Long-time readers of this blog and folks who read this blog because they know me in real life, know that my husband was a practicing clinician for 20 years or so before taking a job at Google Health. It was great, except for the long hours and the way they cut into our family time. One of the minor social benefits of being married to an ICU doctor is that it is really easy to explain to people…

[justshipsandstuff]

The people want to see Mithrun’s second life (me, I’m people)

Inspired by this post. Mithrun having service animals is just perfect! Can’t believe I never thought of that. He always has a big team caring for him but in Melini, he needs to manage on his own at times when he’s not working and Pattadol is busy

[nonranghaes]

heads up: anxiety over health-related stuff, kept very vague.

"can you do me a favor?" vernon holds out his hand, palm-up, as he watches you. "give me your phone for a few minutes."

for a moment, you hesitate. there's nothing on there that's bad or anything, but... it feels like you've been particularly attached to it lately. always waiting for a call, or an email to tell you that your labwork is in and that you can see the results on your patient portal, or anything to quiet the brewing storm of anxiety in the back of your mind. for the past several days, its one refresh after another of your email inbox. a jump when someone texts you, only to realize it's not an update or a request to come back in. but after a moment, you press your phone into his hand, and watch the way vernon pockets it without even glancing at it.

instead, he takes your hands in his. "i know you're scared," he says, voice soft yet serious all the same. "but it's okay. we're gonna get through this together." vernon gives your hands a reassuring squeeze. "alright? worrying isn't going to make them call you faster."

he's right. it doesn't do much to quiet that storm, unfortunately, but you do know he's right. you just squeeze his hands, shifting over a few inches on the couch so that your closer to him. "i know. i just..." with a deep breath, you shut your eyes. "i just want an answer. and i think, if it is what we discussed, it might be the answer i've been needing."

"i know." he leans over, lips pressing against your temple for a few seconds longer than you expect. "and you'll get it. just... breathe a little for me, alright? i'm good at being your rock," his eyes twinkle a little bit as he says it, his playful smile setting you more at ease. "i just can't breathe for you, alright?"

it's silly, but it makes you laugh a little as you steal a quick kiss from him. "i'll try. thanks, babe."

[greenglowinspooks]

(DCxDP) The obligations of a rogue versus those of a parent (pt. 2)

—

Tw: N/A

Will be crossposted to AO3 eventually

(Pt. 1 here) - (Pt. 3 here)

(Masterlist/subscription post)

—

It was a beautiful morning. Somehow, against all odds, the sun was shining through the thick smog perpetually covering Gotham.

And Danny hated it.

He was in pain, he was exhausted, he was grieving, and all he wanted to do was sleep for at least a week.

In an act of celestial mockery, the sun shone regardless.

After around twenty minutes of tossing and turning in bed, trying to get back to sleep, Danny gave up and pried himself out of bed.

He stumbled through the hallway and into the living room, staring openly at every splash of color he saw in the small apartment. He hadn’t forgotten what color looked like in the time he was in the lab, but it was comforting to see.

Someone cleared their throat. Danny whipped his head around, eyes falling on a scrawny, gangly man sitting down in a worn armchair, hunched over a laptop. He was looking at him with a dull, bored expression.

Right. Scarecrow.

His escape.

The chase.

His mom.

“You look a lot less terrifying without the mask,” Danny blurted out, slapping his hand over his mouth. “I didn’t mean that.”

“Well, I certainly wouldn’t call my normal appearance frightening,” Scarecrow hummed, focusing his attention back onto the laptop, “that’s what the costume is for, after all.”

“Oh.”

After a brief moment of excruciating silence, Scarecrow spoke.

“You any good with computers, Danny? Hacking, and all that?”

Danny jolted. Scarecrow needed his help with something! This was great! Now, he’d have more of a reason not to get rid of him!

“Oh, uh, yeah! Not as good as my friend Tucker, but I think I’m pretty good.”

“And you’re familiar with the GiW’s systems specifically,” Scarecrow continued, beckoning him over. Danny complied, shuffling over awkwardly. “Right?”

“Well, I guess? My friends and I got into their stuff a couple of times before they…”

“Wonderful,” Scarecrow said, standing up with a stretch. He shoved the laptop into Danny’s hands and gestured for him to sit down on the couch. “Then you can hack into their system and extract whatever files you can find.”

Danny stared at the man like he’d lost his mind. He looked back at him expectantly.

Danny sat down.

“Yeah, I-I can do that. Tuck and I built a back door into their system ages ago,” he said, checking the screen. It was clear that for all the skills that Scarecrow had, hacking was definitely not one of them. “But, uh, don’t you have someone else that usually does this sort of thing for you? Not that I’m complaining!”

Scarecrow scowled, and Danny felt his heart fall into his ass.

“Usually, I do,” Scarecrow huffed, “but I chose to leave my most recent job with the Penguin early, so now there’s no way that he or Eddie will help me with anything until I make it up to them somehow.”

“Oh,” Danny said.

He had no clue whatsoever who Eddie was.

Danny got to work quickly, hoping that if he ignored the gangly man, he would leave him be. Luckily, he did just that, leaving to go work on something in another room.

Danny checked the laptop’s security before continuing Scarecrow’s progress, making sure that the GiW wouldn’t be able to grab their location.

It was���threateningly good. Whoever Eddie was, he had somehow crammed the functionality of a top-of-the-line PC into a tiny, beat-up old laptop. It almost reminded Danny of Tucker and his terrifying competence with his PDA.

Tucker.

Amity park.

Home.

Danny snapped himself out of his thoughts, tabbing back into the application Scarecrow had up and began to work his magic.

He had near full access to the entire GiW database within half an hour.

Mumbling out a quick thank-you to Tucker, he called Scarecrow over to appraise his work.

“Fixed up some food for you while you worked,” the rogue said, handing him a bowl of oatmeal, taking the laptop into his lap as he did so, “didn’t know how well you could eat, considering you’re recovering from… surgery, so I decided to stay on the safe side.”

Danny had no clue what this guy’s deal was.

He definitely did not tear up at the first genuine thoughtfulness he encountered in weeks, and he did not look away as he ate so that Scarecrow couldn’t see his face.

At least Scarecrow was too focused on the laptop to notice or care.

Or, maybe, he was just mercifully ignoring him.

Either way, Danny ate slowly, not wanting to make himself sick. He allowed himself to absentmindedly look around the room for the first time, taking everything in.

It was strangely homey. The space was filled with warm browns and yellows, a few splashes of color on the wall in the form of (obviously gifted) paintings. There was a beat-up bookshelf against the wall, clearly second-hand, filled to the brim with psychology books. On every available surface there was a different colored candle, all at different stages of use, clearly collected over the course of years.

Danny knew that the man next to him was a crazed, murderous criminal, but his home was oddly reminiscent of Jazz.

He was not about to cry.

“Danny,” Scarecrow hummed, snapping him out of his spiraling, “can you explain this to me?”

He looked over. The rogue was pointing to a new report, seemingly posted only a few hours ago.

Nodding, he took the computer into his lap, pouring over the contents.

He read the report again.

And again.

And again.

Danny swore loudly, crumpling like a wet paper bag, head in his hands.

“What?”

“It’s…” he swore again, glancing back at the laptop, “they…since you became liminal from synthetic ectoplasm, when we’re within about 500 meters of one another, our ectoplasm signatures resonate, and they can’t track us with any of their technology.”

“How is that a bad thing?”

“If we’re not that close to each other, they can track us down from anywhere in the world.”

Scarecrow went dead quiet. After what felt like the single longest minute of Danny’s life, he let out a truly exasperated sigh, slumping over in his seat.

“Yeah, me too,” Danny mumbled, utterly miserable.

“…I’ll have to move my plans back a little,” Scarecrow sighed, “I can’t drag an injured child with me when I attack the Gotham GiW base, you’ll just get in the way.”

“Oh come on,” Danny whined, “I can take care of myself just fine. Besides, Batman brings kids with him to do dangerous stuff all the time, and he’s fine!”

“Might I remind you that the second Robin died violently,” Scarecrow snapped, “and that Batman most likely has more traumatic brain injuries than all of the Gotham rogues combined. That really isn’t the winning argument you think it is.”

Danny paused, trying to think up some way to win the argument. Then, he realized what he had ignored before.

“Wait, Scarecrow, you’re gonna attack the GiW?”

“That’s the plan,” he nodded, “and call me Dr. Crane. I’m only Scarecrow when I’m in the mask.”

But,” Danny sputtered, “Sca—uh, Dr. Crane—that’s insane! The weapons they’ve got- they’ll rip you apart!”

“Not my first time,” Crane said, making Danny wince. “Besides, I have plenty of experience avoiding gunfire. I’ll live.”

“You…” Danny was silent for a while, trying to think of something to say, “fine, but you have to take me with you wherever you go. As soon as they see either of us on their radars, they’ll hunt us down.”

Dr. Crane sighed.

“…Fine. I need some time to plan anyways. Now, you’re going to help me download these files, properly format them, and send them out.”

“…Why?”

“Well, some of the other rogues might appreciate the heads up, and I’d quite like them to be indebted to me. Besides, I still need to pay back the Penguin for ditching him, and he loves knowing things that other people don’t.”

Danny paused.

“That’s an awful idea, no offense. If any of the rogues know our weaknesses, they—”

“Danny, we’re censoring everything. The only things they need to know about are the GiW specifically, and any sort of laws surrounding them.”

Danny snorted.

“You care about laws now?”

“Yes, because if we get taken to Arkham, they’ll hand us off to the GiW the moment they ask, and it’ll be completely legal.”

Oh. Danny had honestly forgotten that Arkham was an option.

“…Ok. I’ll help you. Who are we telling?”

“I don’t think you really need to know,” Dr. Crane said, the faintest shadow of an amused look on his face, “but I’ll humor you for now. We’re sending the files out to the Penguin, Riddler, Poison Ivy via Harley Quinn, Two-Face, and Red Hood.”

Danny nodded. He could live with that.

“Alright, then let’s get to work.”

—

[edsbacktattoo]

good evening everyone. remember when stede bonnet called edward teach his boyfriend. do you remember when edward teach actually fucking loved it. do you recall. wow. what a day that we have had. i love you all

[konigsblog]

I feel like König would have health anxiety, but not for himself, instead, for you.

Oh, you've been feeling quite poorly these past few days? He's already desperately booking a doctor's appointment. You've been throwing up and have a migraine? You're freaking him out, please! You feel like you're going to pass out? Well, you better sit down, because if you faint, so will König.

[lifblogs]

The google ai is so bad for trying to search if foods are safe for me to eat, or if they’ll try to kill me. And underneath the ai answer bullshit there are hardly any reliable links.

If someone has even said the words gluten free in something then google will tell you the product is gluten free even if it’s not.

This is DANGEROUS!

[skapediem]

bidididibumbum to san fernandooo

[iinryer]

i know we’re all super jazzed about bi buck, but please for the love of god y’all have got to stop saying “gay panic” and “bi panic”. i know it’s a funny-sounding phrase but it does NOT mean what you think you’re saying

[squiddlysq]

Finished System Collapse the other day & Murderbot has never been more relatable

First image based on this post by @murderbot-moodboard

[bi-focal12]

i watched that hallmark movie "three wise men and a baby" with my mom tonight and had this little bkdk brain worm. please enjoy.

bkdk meet cute (but really it's a meet awkward) (they make it work)

“I cannot fucking believe you’re doing this to me.” 

“Doing what?” Denki replied glibly, palming through a handful of bills as he checked and rechecked the cash register in front of him. 

Katsuki leaned forward, bracing his hands on the thin stretch of countertop separating them, gratified to notice Denki taking a small step backward.  

“Ruining my fucking life.”

Denki sighed, lowering his hands as he finally turned to meet Katsuki’s gaze. “It’s just for the day,” he promised, “and you lost rock paper scissors fair and square!”

“I didn’t know the stakes!” Katsuki shot back. 

Denki rolled his eyes as he pushed the cash register closed and ducked behind the counter, returning with the source of the awful squawking that had been invading Katsuki’s eardrums since the second he set foot in Denki’s stupid bookstore. 

“Sir Papolapodous isn’t even that much work.”

“Sir what?”

“Welcome in!” Denki called, responding to the chime of the front door while Katsuki continued to stare down the bright yellow monstrosity being carted off on him for the afternoon. 

As if sensing its imminent doom, the bird began messing with the door to its cage.  

“Just watch out,” Denki continued, “sometimes he likes to-”

Katsuki ducked as the bird launched itself out of the cage. 

“...escape.”

“What the fuck?” Katsuki shouted, pressing his knuckles to his cheek where the damn thing had scratched him. His fingers came back bloody. “Oi, I’m not watching your stupid flying machete for-” 

“Here!” Denki said, hastily rifling into another bag sitting on the countertop and retrieving some sort of pellet thing that he balanced on Katsuki’s shoulder. “He’ll come to you! Watch!”

Katsuki froze. “Hey, I don’t want that thing anywhere near-”

“Sir Papolapodous!” Denki cheered happily, eyes somewhere beyond Katsuki’s right shoulder. Katsuki tensed. 

The demon landed easily on his shoulder, snatching up the pellet and chirping loudly in Katsuki’s ear. Like a threat. Right beside Katsuki’s vulnerable, jugular-having throat. 

“Aw,” Denki cooed. “He likes you!”

“I’ll roast him,” Katsuki warned. “Don’t you leave me with it.” 

Denki gently pushed the bag from earlier towards Katsuki. “I left you instructions.”

“Stab. Pluck. Spin over fire.”

The bird nudged Katsuki’s cheek and Katsuki flinched away, jerking his shoulder to dislodge the pest. 

The bird ignored his efforts. 

“Seriously, Katsuki,” Denki whined, pressing his palms together, “I need to go to the dentist but I’ll be back before close and- hey, maybe some of the customers will get a kick out of seeing him!”

“Yeah, if they like their books covered in shit,” Katsuki complained. 

“No, no, he’s cage-trained,” Denki promised, untying his worker’s apron and hanging it up behind the counter. “Take good care of my son please!”

Katsuki made a face of utter disbelief. “Hey, I agreed to watch your stupid store, loser. Not to become a fucking Wild Kratt!”

Denki quickly hopped over the counter and out of Katsuki’s reach. 

“Two in one package!”

The bell rang loudly in Katsuki’s ears as Denki completed his cowardly retreat. 

“Fucking asshole,” Katsuki muttered. “Cavity-ridden, dead-brain, no-good, ass-”

“Excuse me?” someone said politely. 

Katsuki spun on his heel- perhaps a shade too quickly, or perhaps with too much bird launching off his shoulder because the customer fell flat on their ass with a startled shout, leaving Katsuki awkwardly looming over them. 

“Ow.”

Belatedly, Katsuki leaned down to offer his hand. 

The demon watched them from atop the nearest shelf of books. 

“I- I’m so sorry,” the guy stammered out, straightening his wire-rim glasses and reaching gratefully for Katsuki’s hand. “I- I really wasn’t expecting that.”

“‘S no problem,” Katsuki replied, curiously shelving the guy’s meekness next to his solid, heavy build as he hauled him up. His hands were incredibly scarred and calloused for someone who jumped at the sight of house pets- demonic or not- but Katsuki supposed he’d give him a pass, considering Katsuki’s own near-death experience was still dripping down his face. “Don’t think anybody expects to get dive bombed by a parakeet on a Sunday morning. Unless you’re a fucking vet or something, I guess.”

“That- that’s true,” the guy said, stumbling a bit as Katsuki righted him, one hand landing briefly on Katsuki’s chest. 

With his head ducked in embarrassment, the guy only came up to Katsuki’s chin but even so, he looked like he could give Katsuki a run for his money on the sparring mat. Katsuki was just about to ask what kind of workouts the did when the guy murmured, 

“Pecs.”

Katsuki blinked. “Pecks?”

The guy’s head snapped up towards Katsuki’s, wide-eyed and pale in his freckled face. 

“God dammit, did that thing fucking peck you?” Katsuki groaned, turning to glare at the preening beast. “‘Cause I can give you a fucking discount on whatever you came in here for before I string him up by his stupid little talons.”

“Wha-? Ah, no! No, no, no,” the guy assured, frantically waving his hands in front of himself. 

Large hands, Katsuki noticed. One of which had been resting warmly over Katsuki’s shirt a moment ago. 

“That won’t be necessary!” 

“Then why’d you-?”

“Pet!” the guy corrected, freckles now washed out by a steady shade of pink. “I’m a…pet…” His eyes darted nervously to the left before snapping back to Katsuki. “...therapist.”

His eyes were a very fucking bright shade of green. 

Katsuki blinked slowly as he registered the words that had come out of Greenie’s mouth- taking in the embarrassed tilt to the guy’s lips. His fitted T-shirt. His obnoxiously bright red shoes. Frankly, he looked like he got dressed in the dark. 

Katsuki wet his lips. “A pet therapist,” he repeated blandly. 

“Ah..mhm,” the guy said, nodding. “So, um, so the dive bombings really aren’t that odd,” he added, tacking on an airy laugh. 

Katsuki continued to stare at him, because clearly one of them had taken on major brain damage in the past five minutes, and considering that this guy’s shirt said tuxedo and had a growing hole along the shoulder seam, Katsuki really hoped it wasn’t himself. 

The man gestured vaguely to the shelf behind him. “That’s really a lovely bird you’ve got there, um…?”

“Katsuki,” he supplied. 

“Izuku,” the man smiled, offering out his hand. “Izuku Midoriya.”

Warily, Katsuki shook it. “...Pet therapist,” he repeated. 

“Yup!” Izuku said in a high voice, smiling wider. “That’s me. Therapizing the pets.” 

“Right,” Katsuki replied, because what the fuck was even happening, “well, if you’re looking for a book, we uh…have them.”

Internally, Katsuki cringed. Then he sent a seething, telepathic complaint to Denki because Katsuki had been fired from his one and only customer service job at fifteen and the universe had never made the mistake of putting him in that position ever again for a reason.

Fucking rock paper scissors. 

“Right,” Izuku mimicked, his thousand-watt smile pressing flat with amusement. His stupid green eyes were practically dancing with mirth and Katsuki suddenly felt very warm in the face- alone in a bookstore with a yellow, dive-bombing demon and a man with a fake-sounding job and no sense of color coordination and a very firm handshake. 

Katsuki crossed his arms over his chest, ever so slightly jutting out his chin. He could still feel the outline of a hand where the guy had caught himself against Katsuki. 

“What kinda book does a pet therapist need, anyway?”

The guy continued to blink up at Katsuki for a moment before coming to his senses with a startled, “Oh! I was wondering if you had any comics, actually. All Might, specifically.”

Katsuki raised an interested brow, looking between something-Midoriya, the demon from hell, and then Midoriya again. 

Katsuki had absolutely zero idea what sorts of books Denki had in stock, let alone if he carried the single most greatest graphic novel series of Katsuki’s youth. 

Still, he clicked his tongue. “Let’s find out.”

[xcziel]

Hey wise people of tumblr, in the interest of having resource materials PHYSICALLY available for people to find

what are some actual books on or covering reproductive health that are as current/accurate as possible and that might help a person make thoughtful, informed choices about contraception, pregnancy, etc. and dealing with complications (miscarriage, pregnancy-onset conditions)?

there have got to be some clinic staff or advocates with sources that aren't just websites or similar

[scrapnick]

Its fucking uuuuhhhh Halloween

[nixcraft]

see you are not alone :P lmao