#he needs a dialysis machine at this point

[stickyvoidpaper]

Lazarus water, Joker toxin, whatever the fuck Bruce did, Gotham water, random bullshit he's been dunked in, magic(????).

Jason is just slowly becoming a toxic, radioactive soup of a person. Geiger counters go off near him.

[make-me-imagine]

Personal Life Update - Possible Long Term Hiatus

So for anyone who cares about this sort of thing, I thought I would make a post. A few weeks back, both of my parents got sick. We thought with the same thing, possibly covid at the time.

While it was confirmed that my mother did in fact get Covid, she also contracted pneumonia. She has copd so this made it quite difficult for her. So she went to to the hospital.

My dad turned out to have something much worse. He developed diverticulitis (pockets in the intestine), fairly common, but, he got severely inflamed and got an infection. He got very sick, very fast. He had been receiving treatment for Liver Cancer previously, but those treatments were only making him worse.

For the last few weeks me and my brother have been making two-hour trips every other day, to visit both of them.

My dad was getting dialysis treatments because his kidneys were in rough shape, but was having a hard time in the hospital. He was not being treated well, and wanted to come home, so he did.

Today me and my brother brought our dad home so he could be comfortable somewhere he feels safe. He will no longer be receiving dialysis or cancer treatments. He will be set up with a hospice service from home hopefully tomorrow.

I do not know when my mother will return home, or what care she will need from this point on either. She has recovered from covid and pneumonia, but must be on a cpap machine at night at this point or she declines in her health/breathing.

I have no idea how much longer I have with my father. Could be days, could be a year. The same goes with my mother, though she is not well, she is better off than my father in some ways.

I have been taking care of my mother every day for the last 5 years. And now I'll need to help my dad as well for as long as he needs.

I may release content on days that are better and I feel like writing, maybe for stress relief. But I cannot promise that I will be able to post anything. I will be around, but just might not be writing for a while longer.

To anyone who sends their love, prayers, or kind messages, I thank you in advance. Please do not be offended if I do not reply right away or at all.

xx

[iminthetunnels]

the whole “u better get used to seeing children bloody and killed” type stuff is insane . there’s tragedy everywhere. i see it everyday when my son seizes. or when i see children starving or being fed chemicals. i see tragedy all over the world, not just at home and my cortisol levels are insane. it’s causing an actual imbalance in my hormones and my vitamin function in my body. it is scary. voting will do nothing. i teach my child never to trust the government or government led organizations, fight for your community authentically. these government officials are who put children in danger, not the single mom at home trying her best. or the teenager working a crazy ass job while going to school. we can help as much as we can but we shouldn’t be subjected to cruelty. we know what’s happening. “if you can’t handle seeing it, suck it up” i don’t force my sons epilepsy and bloody incidents bc he’s blind and has poor balance, so he runs into walls and trips on concrete all the time. it was caused by medical malpractice and the best thing to do is inform people that hospital births and inventions can cause this. what am i to do? show u pictures of me dying on the OR table to get my point across?? do i show u pictures of children on dialysis machines when we go to my sons specialist appointments? what i’m saying is there’s tragedy and horrific things happening everywhere. to any degree. u absolutely do not need more of ur cortisol levels raised. if u TRULY WANNA make a change, do it within ur children, do it in ur community, reach out to people empathically. bc raising their stress levels and traumatizing them isn’t it

[the-firebird69]

And yeah he's sitting the restroom saying he's messing up we know what's going on so if he tries he's going to mess himself up and we do that to him all the time

*we have other companies we're going to purchase several of them are very very good for us Blue Cross Blue shield at 50% Aetna health insurance and hospital group and they all have hospitals tons of them and they're the biggest 50%, Humana 50% in their number three, United healthcare number four after the incident with Dr landrigan 50% and he's fired from everything he does and he knows it, harborview and the other one they are number six and seven and we are at harbor front taking over at 50% on harborview 60% on harbor freight harbor front and we are also buying a small hospital I know it's not for sale but they're going to get the chickens out of them and they need to they'll think that we're taking it over and are not saying or something like that, these companies are important they have a lot of hospitals about together all together 85% globally they have hospitals suites for outpatient surgery inpatient surgery they have three hours they have emergency they have outpatient treatment inpatient treatment they have clinics they have a beds they have cycling psychic wings they have specialty item for coming in to do MRI all sorts of diagnostics coming in and doing dialysis cancer treatments and they're all special machines transplants transplant sweets and wings for transplants they have huge morgs where they store bodies for transplants and usually it's heading Greece and for of course autopsy but they ship those off to the police it's a massive massive industry and it's really gross I'm just almost nothing we would do to try and own them and we're going to be handed these places we're now securing it and securing the records it's not much they can do about it and most of them recently are gone who are trying to hold the records Hunter retain a lot of employees and we're going to also look at all of them but we can't fire everybody it's only the ones who are heinous and don't do it any job at all. These companies are gigantic they have outlets everywhere then clinics everywhere with names that are different all over the world and it is one of the biggest businesses on Earth. And yeah there goes Trump on his bicycle what a winner he is a huge a****** that guy. His massively abused by the empire it just keeps asking for it won't back off and it's not people pushing him he's just a fruitcake and they're cleaning his clock everyday today they're going after him very hard here in Florida I'm going to talk to that point in a minute this is important to publish

Thor Freya

Olympus

Zues

Just sitting here doing the work and he has time to say nice things and to talk about stuff other people cannot figure it out or how to do it

Hera

[newsworld-nw]

Another death threat in Gaza

There are folks in Gaza whose lives cling within the steadiness for lack of medication and gas for hospitals. The chance of dying in bombings within the Strip is excessive: Greater than 7,700 Palestinians have already died in bombings within the 22-day siege, earlier than Israel introduced on Saturday the beginning of a brand new section of the offensive - anticipated to be bloody. Missiles However these affected by persistent ailments that require medical therapy, resembling medicine, diagnostic assessments or medical care, face a further menace. They're diabetics who require insulin; These with most cancers, topic to radiotherapy or chemotherapy; Individuals with kidney failure who want dialysis or cardiovascular sufferers who have to take day by day treatment... In whole, the World Well being Group (WHO) estimates that There are 350,000 folks On this state of affairs throughout the strip.This inhabitants group suffers from a number of non-communicable ailments, that's, these pathologies that aren't attributable to acute infections, however have long-term well being penalties and infrequently require lifelong therapy and care. Amongst them, there are 4 that characterize greater than two thirds of world deaths: most cancers, diabetes, cardiovascular and persistent respiratory ailments. In Gaza, they're all current, even when they go unnoticed. It's extra, One of many most important causes of inhabitants dying.When a life is determined by electrical energyWHO estimates that of the 350,000 sufferers affected by a non-communicable illness, a minimum of 9,000 of them have some type of most cancers, primarily breast, liver and lung, who now have their remedy out of the blue stopped. Earlier than October 7, practically 2,000 most cancers sufferers traveled to Jerusalem, the West Financial institution or Israel to obtain chemotherapy or radiotherapy. As a result of there isn't a availability in Gaza. They may not depart, and the reference for the remainder was the Turkish-Palestinian Friendship Hospital, the one specialised hospital within the Strip. On October 17, its basic director, Dr Sovi Cik, introduced that they must disrupt "a big a part of their providers" and that the middle can be closed throughout the subsequent 48 hours on the newest. Every week later, the WHO Center East Workplace (EMRO) Confirmed that it's "partially" working As a result of lack of gas.Unprecedented bombings, closures of border crossings and water and electrical energy cuts imposed by Israel in retaliation are pushing well being programs to the restrict for the reason that Palestinian Hamas militia invaded the nation on October 7. At the moment, 34% of hospital facilities are not in service, nor are 64% of main care facilities Those who stay open lack provides and treasured gas, important for hospitals to proceed working. In response to Medical doctors of the World, 19 sanatoriums had been affected, 7 of which needed to shut as a result of harm, lack of energy and evacuation orders from the Israeli military. Medical doctors With out Borders (MSF) head of mission in Jerusalem, David Cantero, has denounced that the well being system is on the breaking point. "They have to permit unconditional entry to humanitarian help together with water, meals, drugs and gas," he demanded."Regardless of the evacuation order, 17 hospitals stay open in northern Gaza, for the reason that evacuation would put the lives of many fragile sufferers in danger: folks present process hemodialysis, newborns in incubators or sick in intensive care. "They can't be denied medical care. on which their lives rely," WHO condemned. The restricted humanitarian help that has to date entered by the Rafah crossing within the south has not reached hospitals within the north.The dearth of gas in Gaza most instantly impacts these whose lives are actually depending on electrical energy. Cantero warns that if the generator shuts down, all life depending on the machine will stop "inside minutes." "Individuals in intensive care, totally on ventilators and infants in incubators would be the first victims," ​​he lamented.

A well being employee attends to a Palestinian teenager admitted to the ICU of Nasser Hospital in Gaza on Thursday. Medical doctors at these facilities mentioned they may solely deal with extreme circumstances as a result of gas shortages.Ibrahim Abu Mustafa (Reuters)Mecca is certainly one of them. It is a woman who got here into the world out of the blue and prematurely on October 21, after a bomb assault killed her mom, Darin, who was in a complicated stage of being pregnant. They had been capable of ship the child by caesarean part and he has been alive within the incubator ever since. Like him, 130 newborns rely on this neonatal unit.Hemodialysis machines are a lifeline for a minimum of 1,000 Gazans with kidney failure, together with 38 youngsters, and are about to cease working, warned Raquel Marti, Spain's government director of the United Nations Committee for Palestine Refugees within the Center East (UNRWA). “Earlier than (the Hamas assault) there have been 30,000 dialysis classes monthly and for that we wanted 13,000 filters, 13,000 blood assortment tubes and 26,000 cannulas. However for the reason that begin of the offensive, this materials has not entered the strip," he explains of the therapy, which purifies the blood when the kidneys will not be ready to take action. This week, the overall director of Al Aqsa Martyrs Hospital in Deir al-Balah warned on Al Jazeera tv. That they're lowering classes. "A kidney dialysis affected person now attends a few times every week for an hour or two, whereas earlier they used to come back 3 times every week," he mentioned.Plastia is a Palestinian journalist from the Alaqad Strip and one of many few capable of ship info since Gaza was with out web and telephones on Friday as a result of bombings. On Saturday, Alakad warned that the state of affairs was getting worse by the minute. “There isn't a (community) service; This implies that you could't name an ambulance when you die, and a few cannot transfer as a result of they've run out of gas. “Hospitals are going to close down at any second as a result of lack of energy,” he lamented in keeping with the final warning. Report Emergency State of affairs Report from WHO Workplace.

A nurse was caring for a untimely child final Sunday within the neonatal unit of Gaza's Al Shifa Hospital. Stringer (Reuters)Among the many threat teams are pregnant ladies, who There are about 50,000, of which 5,500 will give beginning within the coming months. They aren't sick, however they're They require fixed monitoring, together with ultrasounds, and generally they have to comply with a drugs routine or a minimum of vitamin, calcium, iron, or folic acid dietary supplements, that are non-existent. Earlier than the assault, 40% of pregnant ladies had been affected by anemia and the state of affairs was going to worsen with feeding difficulties. “They're malnourished first. They aren't being given the nutritional vitamins they want for a standard being pregnant and in order that the kid will not be born with deficiencies,” says Marty, who remembers that they're registering a median of 183 births per day within the Strip.Furthermore, given the crucial circumstances in hospitals, many are already selecting to offer beginning at residence, which will increase the danger of maternal and neonatal mortality.Important drugs for survivalThe Ministry of Well being estimates that their present day by day price of medical provides is equal to their month-to-month price earlier than the battle started. Insulin is likely one of the most demanded medicine. "All medicine and medical provides are working out, together with medicine wanted for instant response to victims (eg, saline resolution, anesthesia), these wanted to deal with long-term circumstances (eg, insulin) and medicines that "save lives" of newborns," Condemned by WHO Workplace for Center East Anesthesia is used for missile accidents, however it's nearly non-existent, forcing medical doctors to carry out very aggressive surgical procedures, resembling amputations, with out sedation. Blood for transfusion can also be briefly provide, and even when it isn't, it's unattainable to refrigerate it with out electrical energy.Sufferers with cardiovascular circumstances are additionally a trigger for concern as they're the main reason for dying within the Palestinian Territories. The primary one is hypertension, which impacts 10% of the grownup inhabitants.Alternatively, the prevalence of diabetes is rising by leaps and bounds till it has change into a worldwide well being concern. In Gaza, 16% of individuals over 40 are diabetic and rely on insulin to keep away from dying, however this therapy is more and more tough to acquire. Rawaya Halas, director of a UNRWA vocational coaching middle in Khan Younis, wept on digicam a couple of days in the past in dire circumstances, with 15,000 folks taking shelter in her faculty and barely having the ability to give them water. “We want insulin, persons are dying and we won't give them something; "It is disastrous," he cried. In actual fact, UNRWA not considers 85 medicines important, and Marty estimates that what they've left will run out in about 10 or 12 days.Observe all worldwide info Fb And Xor between Our weekly e-newsletter._ #dying #menace #Gaza Read the full article

[sirfrogsworth]

Actually, I might have too many reasons.

I'm afraid it has been a really difficult few years for me and my family.

Our beloved corgi, Otis, developed a terrible condition (degenerative myelopathy) that made him lose the function of his back legs. Once his quality of life diminished passed the point where he could no longer experience joy as a dog and only had hardship and suffering to look forward to, we had to put him to sleep.

In February, despite taking painstaking measures to stay safe, my entire family contracted COVID and I also developed a kidney stone at the same time. Unfortunately, my mother was on medication that made her immune system pretty much useless. She died a horribly lonely death in the ICU. The last time I got to speak to her was over the telephone, with a nurse holding the phone up to her face. She was confused and scared and could not breathe despite being on two different breathing aids. All she could do was ask if my dad and I were okay. She was more worried about us than herself. Then they had to put her mask back on and she kept trying to talk even though I couldn't understand her. All I could hear was the fear in her voice. I tried to tell her how much I loved her one last time, but I have no idea if she could hear me.

She lost consciousness soon after and never woke up. Eventually her heart gave up and she passed. I only got to see her once briefly through a glass door. Her body was still alive, but she was already gone at that point. Just an unconscious vessel attached to machines.

My father has kidney failure and heart failure. He is being kept alive by dialysis 3 times per week. He hates going and it wipes him out every time. We hope he has a year or two left, but it's impossible to know for sure.

I am his caretaker even though I am also disabled with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome and Narcolepsy. I do my best to make sure his needs are met. My brother has been almost no help at all. A few friends and my aunt come by every once in a while to help with chores, but it's pretty much just me alone taking care of the both of us.

I have no idea where I am going to live if my dad passes away. I have no plan. I have no energy to make a plan. And that fear makes it hard to sleep many nights.

Then I was having these horrible stomach issues and lost nearly 30 pounds (in a bad way). The discomfort got so bad at one point I became suicidal. My dad feared for my life and so he called the police and EMTs. They admitted me into the hospital. After 2 days in the ER, being stuck in a small room because they had no other place to put me during COVID, I was finally admitted to a psychiatric ward for observation. Weirdly my stomach issues started improving and my suicidal thoughts passed.

I'm honestly not sure if I would have taken my own life if I had not been admitted. But I will say those two days in a tiny ER room did not do much to improve my mental health. It is sad that in this country with all its resources, there is no such thing as urgent mental healthcare. They just stick you in a room and make sure you can't hurt yourself as you wait in line to get the actual help you need.

Thankfully I was able to adjust some medication I was taking and resolve my stomach issues. That seemed to relieve me of my dangerous thoughts and I have been okay in that regard ever since.

My dad had a serious infection in July that placed him in the hospital. He lost the ability to walk, his heart stopped briefly, and he started having horrible hallucinations. At one point I wasn't sure if he would ever return to reality. Nothing he said made any sense. Thankfully once they treated the infection and he got decent sleep he returned to lucidity. But he had to go through brutal rehab in order to walk again (with a walker and only short distances).

He was in hospital and rehab for over a month. After what happened to my mom, I promised myself that my dad would not be alone in the hospital. So, no matter how bad I physically felt, I pushed myself to visit him and be at his bedside every day and all day until they kicked me out. It was grueling for both of us, but I don't know if he would have recovered if I hadn't been there. Partly because I kept his spirits up, but also because I was able to get him better care as an advocate. I had to push to make sure he got the tests and medication he needed and saw the doctors that could help him. It was one of the hardest things I've ever done.

The only bright side of his hospital stay is that we rediscovered our love for St. Louis Cardinals baseball. We bonded over it and ended up watching every game. We were very sad when they were quickly eliminated in the first round of the playoffs. But it was a magical season as two fan-favorite players were playing their final season and they had amazing and emotional sendoffs. (Albert Pujols and Yadier Molina) It is my hope that my dad has at least one more baseball season left in him.

My health took a serious downturn earlier this year. It happened on the very same day that my best friend Katrina came to visit from Florida. I got so sick I could barely appreciate her presence when she was here. I had been looking forward to seeing her for a very long time and my stupid chronic illness ruined it. I was counting on that visit to give me a mental health boost.

I recovered a few weeks later, but my health has never been the same. I had to adjust to a new normal and adapt and find ways to take care of my father despite being further impaired.

I also lost my last creative outlet--writing. I enjoy researching and writing long and humorous political essays, but since my health declined further, I have not been able to write like that ever since. I'm really hoping I can regain that ability, but I'm unsure if that will happen.

One of my best friends is trans and I have many trans friends and followers and I am just really scared for them right now. The laws that are being proposed and passed are unjust and cruel. I have never witnessed such an effective campaign of hatred in my lifetime. I mean, I know there has always been hatred of the marginalized in every era of modern human existence, but this seems to go beyond just the conservative hate-mongers. It is not couched in subtext and dog whistles. It is overt and very "out loud." And I'm seeing people who claim to be progressive join in this hatred.

They are suddenly super worried about sports they never used to pay attention to. They think bathrooms are suddenly dens of danger despite trans people existing long before this concentrated hate became popular and bathrooms being perfectly safe beforehand. And now people believe that helping trans kids with proper healthcare is akin to child abuse. They think accepting trans kids is "grooming."

I see Twitter and Reddit threads filled with transphobia and it often brings me to tears to see people openly and comfortably hate the people I love so much. They hate people who have no tangible effect on their lives. People who just want to exist and be respected.

I just don't know how people can hate my friends so much without even knowing them.

Also, I'm just... really really lonely. All the time. It feels like a constant punch in the gut. I miss seeing and hugging my friends. I miss romantic companionship. And I've got a 20+ year streak of being sexually frustrated and am completely unsure how in the world to address that.

And finally, I decided to watch The Handmaid's Tale which is just full of rape and sadness. I figured I'm already horribly depressed, so a show probably isn't going to do much more damage. But it is still a tough watch.

That's the major headlines of my depression.

I'm just trying to survive and find little ways to cope. Mostly I am leaning on my support system and amazing best friends to keep me propped up and functioning.

Best I can do right now.

[danielxricciardo]

Can you do one with Max, with 46 and 55 from angst list?

Summary: You are suffering from depression and Max tries to be by your side

Warnings: angst, swearing, mentions of suicide, depression

Word count: 3.6k+

46. “I’ll leave, and the world will move on. I just wish I could see it. See how much better everything is when I’m gone.”

55. “You’re good at finding things. Find me a reason to stay.”

Depression feels like a lot of things.

It feels like sadness, which is what everyone will tell you. It's a pretty common thread.

"I'm worthless."

"Everyone thinks I'm a horrible burden."

So on and so forth.

Everyone in the world is happy but you, and in the end, you are a worthless piece of shit that doesn't belong in this otherwise glorious and happy place. The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, and you are lying there on your bed in the same unlaundered pair of pajamas, wondering why you are even allowed to keep living any longer. Some meteor strikes or lightning bolts should be reserved for people like you because you are taking up space and oxygen and food and other resources that real, happy, productive people need.

It feels like emptiness. You have all these possibilities and none of them seem interesting. You could do some art, or play some music, but that just doesn't feel right. There's no joy in it. You could have sex with your significant other, but you can't muster up the desire. You could play video games, or read a book. But what's the point? There's no real benefit to all of it but passing the time. You could get up and make lunch. But no, you're not that hungry, and if you close your eyes, time will pass a little faster. You can lie there. That works. It doesn't require active effort to do something fruitless. Everything is as empty and fruitless as lying and staring out your window at the clouds and the shifting shadows of tree branches, and so why do anything else?

It feels like fatigue. Standing up out of your bed requires the same amount of bodily effort as climbing several flights of stairs. Managing to get dressed and walk outside is like running a race. Heaven helps you if you try to go to the store or a friend's house -- that may as well be on the other side of the continent. Every step is heavy. Every muscle motion requires ten times the work it used to. Exercise becomes difficult, and control over your body expires quickly. You become clumsier, so heavy lifting is right out. You daze out randomly, daydreaming, even dozing, so biking or running is hard. You feel most at home when you are entirely relaxed, so you lie down...and don't get up again until something like your bladder compels you.

It feels like a loss of control. You have no idea why your brain and body are doing this. You don't want to feel sad. Nobody wants to feel shitty and tired and empty all the time. People will look at you and say, "It's like you don't want to get better." Those people are idiots. You truly, deeply, from the bottom of your soul, have no idea why this has happened or what to do. It's not logical. It makes no sense. You woke up like this, or it crept in overtime or something like that. It's like a fog, a force of nature that sweeps in, occludes everything, and there's not one thing you can do about it from where you stand. Trying feels like taking a paper fan outside and trying to blow away the morning mist. Someone has tied puppet strings to your brain and is playing this hideous dance with it, and you don't have the scissors to cut them away. The dance doesn't make sense; it's arbitrary and rhythmless. If you had any sort of reasoning behind it, you could take control. But you don't.

It feels like desperation. You can't find a way out. You lie there at night, keening into your pillow like a wounded animal, making all sorts of noises that no human being should be able to make. You claw and scratch at the sheets, or at yourself, as the pain wrings itself out through bodily expression. The tears won't stop. You don't know why. All you know is that it hurts, it really and truly hurts, and you think if it goes on any longer, you're going to die. Right there. Bleed out on the floor. So you grab up your phone, and you call someone at 4 AM, and you beg them to please just make it stop. You bury yourself in books and movies because at least then you can imagine something else than yourself. You read nonstop. You have to have your fix. It's like an addiction, no, more like a life support machine. Otherworlds, fantasies of happiness, and real experiences that aren't your horrible existence become the iron lung keeping air flowing in and out. You are alive because you can stop thinking for a while. Your friends come over to comfort you. Their stories keep you sane and well, like dialysis for all the toxins in you. Your mind has failed at being independent, and now it relies on a thousand little machines to keep itself running. You rely on one machine until another comes to save you. You read books until your friends come by. You stretch out your time with friends until you have to bury yourself in a movie again just to keep the thought of real-life away.

It feels like untamed anger. Your friends can't keep this up forever. You fall further and further, and you eventually start dropping commitments. You have become That Person, the flake that everyone knows will back out. People start getting annoyed at you, annoyed at how they have to spend so much time just keeping you afloat, annoyed at how often you're causing them trouble by constantly disappearing and backing out of appointments, and so on. Your workplace gets annoyed at your lack of productivity. And then you can't take it anymore, and you want to scream at them, grab them by the throat and shake them because IT'S NOT YOUR FAULT! You start having twisted fantasies, the ones where you walk up to that person who keeps telling you he can't do this anymore, you're just too unreliable, putting a gun to your head and pulling the trigger. Just to make him know, for once, that FUCK HIM, your problems are REAL, DAMMIT, REAL, and he better FUCKING RESPECT that. And when you're gone, he'll fall to his knees and cry, and he'll say, he wishes he had understood, that he didn't mean to be so unkind, and the scar on his heart from his own failure will remain fresh and knotted for eternity. And then you shake yourself out of the daydream, and you wonder why you have turned into such a horrible person, someone who even considers ending their own life just to spite another human being. Then it creeps back in, the knowledge that the world is getting fed up with you...and the cycle begins again. You start thriving off these daydreams, because at the very least if you can't be happy, you can throw caution to the wind and get the petty, oddly satisfying revenge buried under all those layers of morality that are becoming worn and flaking away. It's just a fantasy, right? And it helps pass the time...

It feels like forever. You have forgotten what it's like to truly be joyful. You can imagine it, but it's not really you in those thoughts. This is who you are. This is your life. This is you.

It feels like you have only one thing truly under your power: your existence. You cannot choose what life throws at you. Your brain and body have betrayed you. Your friends have worn away, and you've fled from your job and any commitments you have.

It feels empowering. You can jump whenever you want.

But he accepted you the way you are. He never reproached you for negatively influencing his mentality or life, even though you knew he felt it too. He always listened to you, he was with you even at 2 in the morning when you were crying on the bathroom floor with your knees to your chest, and you knew it wasn't right. It wasn't right for him to go through, basically, what you were going through. But no matter how much you told him you could do it without his help, Max was coming back more insistently than ever.

He came up with the idea to start therapy. "You have to find out why you feel this way. Go at least once, see how it is, if you don't like it or feel that it doesn't help you, you will give up, okay?" That was a year and a half ago.

The psychologist gave you a diagnosis from the first session: Major Depressive Disorder. Sure you knew what the three words meant, but you didn't know what it meant to have a label on your condition.

"A major depressive disorder is characterized by one or more of these depressive episodes. the diagnosis of major depressive disorder requires depressed mood or anhedonia which is the loss of interest in pleasure and five or more signs or symptoms for the SIGECAPS mnemonic for a 2-week period. (SIGECAPS) Sleep Disturbance, loss of Interest, feeling Guilty, feeling fatigued and low in Energy, having decreased Concentration, decreased or increased Appetite and been agitated and slow and having Suicidal ideation."

It sounds incredible to you. Suicidal thoughts? Not everyone has a thought, somewhere, behind their mind 'What if I disappeared?'

You were prescribed Prozac and Zoloft and it helped. You weren't always sad anymore, you could go to the races with Max and support him as a normal girlfriend does. You apologized to my friends who tried to help me and whose lives you made impossible and you managed to get back to work, from home anyway. Sure, you still had moments when you felt like you weren't 100% yourself but not like before. You did therapy twice a week and the psychologist was happy with your evolution.

But being the stupid ass that you are, you stopped taking the medication. You took the last pill on Friday. Because you were fine. You felt ok, everyone around you told you you were better, you were doing amazing, so you were cured, right? Or so you thought. Saturday was normal. Sunday was not. Your mood and energy were very low. You woke up at like 2 in the afternoon. That is not unusual for you. You’re used to it. You were sad. You were exhausted. You knew that feeling like this was “no excuse” so you tried to force yourself to do it anyway. Typical of your life. You feel like you had already taken so much off work because of the triple-header, you were for three weeks attached to the hips with Max.

The only thing you thought of was dying. And that terrified you. And Max senses something was wrong. But he didn't want to tell something and ending up being wrong and you being upset by his misinterpretation. But, yes, he sensed that you were becoming your old self.

"Hey, babe," he snapped you out of your daydreaming. A tragic one, where you were finally at peace and Max was crying for you. You were on the verge of crying yourself at the mere image of Max in your head. But you pushed it far from your mind, somewhere in a dark corner for you to find it at an appropriate time to fantasize about your dying. "How about we go to a picnic? It's sunny outside."

Yes, the wheater was amazing. It was finally summer and you could go outside and spend some time with Max. But your brain literally is tricking you into thinking you don't deserve to enjoy the sunny day. Why? You don't have an answer.

"I'm not really in the mood, Max. Sorry."

You are not in the mood. That was his affirmation. You are not ok.

"You feeling good?"

"Yeah. Just tired I guess."

"But you just woke up."

You shrugged. He was right. You just woke up, so why do you feel like you were carrying a ton of bricks on your shoulders? You couldn't walk. You almost felt like 18 months ago. And that is when it hit you. And Max, at the same time.

"Still taking your meds, I hope."

Silence. Your mind was like overcrowded and you couldn’t take it anymore. You grabbed your head and pulled your hair because you wanted it to stop. You were thinking that you didn’t know what to think. You didn’t know how to think. You didn’t know how you felt. You were like anxious-depressed-angry-miserable-irritable all in one. Your head was spinning with thoughts. Thoughts were talking over thoughts. So fast that you couldn’t even make out one complete sentence. It was just too much for you to handle. You just wanted someone to kill you.

Max came to you and he hugged you so hard you thought he could crush your bones right there and then. You calmed down eventually. But now you were embarrassed. Because Max saw you, again, at your lowest. Because you promised you'll get better, and for a while, you were better, but now you are fucked and back into square one. All those money on therapy and your pills, for what? For you to stop taking them because you thought you were feeling better? Well, you definitely were not ok, nor you'll be. So, yeah, being fucked sounded good.

Max brought you the medicine and a glass of water. Taking the pills again? For what? The pills only fuel the feeling that everything is fine and that you are a normal person. Nothing was good and you were not a normal person.

But you took the pills. And you looked Max in the eyes and you wanted to die. He seemed crushed. He was sad, devastated, maybe angry but definitely disappointed. In you. Because maybe you don't realize this, but while you were doing good, he was doing great. He knew you could be on your own so he stopped worrying that much, and that could also be seen in his driving. He was winning more races, he was at his best and now he was at his lowest. Because you were at your lowest; co-dependency and shit.

"I'm sorry, baby. I thought I was doing well enough to stop taking the meds," you say in a broken voice but the tears are yet to appear. He stroked your hair and kissed you on your forehead.

"You should have told me. You don't have to go thru this alone. I am here."

"Yeah, you are here. But you don't have to be!" you snapped. Irritability, one thing your depression came with. "I am just a burden for you. And no, this does not come from the fact I stopped taking my pills. You took care of me like I was a child, and, fuck it, you don't deserve this."

"Stop talking like this, alright? If I would suffer from depression you would have done the same thing. You would have taken care of me. Or am I wrong?"

"You are not wrong. To be honest, I don't think I would be here if it wasn't for you, but I don't want you to be. It's obvious that I would never get better. This is me. I am fucked in the head, half wishing I was dead and I am just bringing you down."

"Don't tell me this is a fucking break up, Y/N." he narrows his brows and looks at your features to make sure you were being serious.

“I’ll leave, and the world will move on. I just wish I could see it. See how much better everything is when I’m gone.”

"What the fuck are you talking about? Is this a break-up or a suicidal vocal note?"

You broke down. Crying can be cathartic and healthy, but if it goes on too long it can lock your body in a feeling of despair. Even if your mind works through the problem that caused the crying, because your body is still feeling the physical effects it will cause your mind to revert to the negative state. It's not sadness. It's dread and paralysis. You had a certain feeling of emptiness and purposelessness.

“You’re good at finding things. Find me a reason to stay,” you say between sobs.

"You want me to find you a reason to stay alive or to stay in this relationship? To be frank, I can name a thousand reasons, but it all depends on you."

Max hugs you from behind and you lay your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat that was stronger than ever. You allowed yourself to inhale Max's scent, a soothing scent you could get drunk on.

"I want to believe you love me. I mean, I love you and I consider you the love of my life, you know? We are so young and I know it doesn't feel like it, but I promise you, I'm gonna marry you someday, even if right now you don't think you're gonna make it till tomorrow. So, yeah, this is reason number one," he said and pressed a kiss to your cheek. "This is not the worst you have been through in life. Remember where you were 18 months ago; you had no idea what was wrong with you. Now you know and you know you can be better. I know you get sick of those pills, but maybe, in the future, you won't need them. Isn't that exciting? This was reason number two," he said and pressed another kiss to your cheek. He was going to do that every time he would give you a reason. "Have you been to all the beautiful places around the world? Sure, you came to a few Grand Prix, but you never saw Great Ocean Road in Australia, you know Daniel promised he would take us there someday. You never saw Pamukkale in Turkey or Japan in Cherry Blossom season or the Blue Lagoon in Iceland. There are many places you need to visit, baby. So, yeah, this was reason number three. I don't know if you want me to continue but I can give you one more reason. Reason number four. Do it for you, baby. You deserve to live and be happy. I know you can be happy and I promise you I will do my best to help you. You just have to take it one step at a time. You just have to let me in. Let me help you, baby."

You turn around, facing him now. You loved him, with all of your heart. You love him for who he is. You love him because he literally came into your life as your lifeline. You love him because he helped you crawl up the deep bottomless abyss of depression. You love him because he had the patience and the audacity to bear with your depression, anxiety, and panic attacks, your phobias, your mood swings, your temperamental and short-tempered nature, your overthinking, your being overprotectiveness, and possessiveness. You love him because never once he thought of giving up on you in your hard times. You love him because he stands by you like a rock of unwavering support and he’s someone you can fall back on. You love him because he listens to you talking non-stop about your past, your pains, your fears, and your losses without complaining even once. You love him because he rediscovered you and helped you find yourself again when you were lost in darkness. You love him because he filled you with confidence and hope and strength and belief and determination. You love him because he believes you are the best when you set your mind on something and no one can stop you from achieving your goals. You love him because he is protective, caring, understanding, loving, and easy to be with while never being too suffocating or taking up your space. You love him because sooner or later he does everything you ask of him and does with his whole attention. You love him because whatever endeavor he engages in, he likes to give his 100% and hates doing half-hearted things. You love him because he can decode the nuances in your voice and judge your mood just perfectly. You love him because he read you like an open book and he can hear your silence. You love him because he never doubts your loyalty, your intentions, your hard work, and your million issues. You love him because no matter how busy he might get he never forgets that you are waiting for his message or his call. You love him because he keeps you in his priorities. You love him because he gave you a passion you never knew you had. You love him because he very strongly believes that you deserve the best of everything. You love him because he is empathic, kind, magnanimous, thoughtful, and down to Earth. You love him because he has eyes for no one but you. You love him because he wants to see you healthy, wealthy, prosperous, famous and he wants you to hold back at nothing, for no one, he wants you to be a Go-Getter. And most importantly you love him because no one ever loved you like he did.

"I will let you in," you say and you kiss him hard. "I'm sorry for the scene I caused."

"Don't be. It happens."

[spectralhero]

Y'all...

My mom is the strongest person around. Just a few days ago, my mom was dying. Today, she was more upright in bed after being flat since that day. Yesterday she was still flat and just mumbled responses. At times it looked like she was looking through you or didn't register much.

Today, she was having full conversations. Yes she is still weak but she's actually talking and her sense of humor came out more and more.

The removed the dialysis machine this morning and her vitals remained stable throughout the day. The male nurse even told us that her vitals is exactly where he wants them.

The dietician was there as well as the physiotherapist. So they are working from all sides to help my mom recover. And thank FUCK it is the same dietician that my mom had since day one after her surgery.

They also did a sonar to see what the hell is going on with her kidneys and they couldn't see anything that changed in the last few days since they last took a sonar. My mom even produced a little more urine today even without the dialysis. She is on Lasix and adrenalin still so her blood pressure still needs to be helped along but she says she feels better.

She even asked me to put lipstick on for her and I was like 'lol mom pls! They need to see if your lips turn blue and stuff just in case' and she was like 'well that is there problem then' with this weak little wise ass smile.

Listen, I know there are some of you that aren't religious and that's fine you can stop reading at this point.

But God is great. All the prayers do have an impact. My mom went from fighting for her life to having a really good chance of recovery. I managed to carefully give my mom a little hug and kiss on the head. I got to tell her I love her and she was able to hear it properly this time and respond properly.

We continue to pray and trust that my mom will make a full recovery or as full as the circumstances allow. We have a lot more hope and that is wonderful.

Thanks to those of you that prayed for my mom and for the supportive and kind words. I appreciate each and every one of you.

[tg-headcanons]

Do you have any hcs of like... the quinx squad interacting/meeting with the og ghoul squad ?? ( so like anteiku + ayato, tsukiyama, etc... ) i feel like it would be such a chaotic meeting oml

THE BASTARDS MEET

I feel like so much good would have come out of the quinx kids meeting the OG ghouls. They’re dealing with, though not very strong, ghoul instincts and reaction for the first time without anyone to guide them. They’re dealing with lots of pressure for people so young. They’re dealing with, in all but Urie’s cases, being coerced into having their biology altered through financial incentives or adult pressure. If they could meet with ghouls who can not only explain and help them through their new bodies, but tell them that what the CCG did to them was wrong and that the organization is corrupt, it would have saved them a lot of struggle

It was Hide who introduced them, starting off with the ghouls masked of course. Urie obviously left first thing because That’s A Lot Of Ghouls, but the others let him explain that the ghouls are not their enemies. They begrudgingly listen, and reluctantly talk to the ghouls in a few meetings before started to trust them a bit

Saiko and Kaneki get along. They were both humans content to live their lives before being turned against their will into, albeit different, artificial ghouls.

Ginshi and Koma vibe. They’re loud, they’re hyper, they’re going to spar for fun

Mutsuki was sort of taken in by Irimi. She noticed that he gets sort of uncomfortable in the giant rowdy group and brings him off to the side where she can dispense a bunch of gossip and give him a break from the crowd

Urie is the hardest to convince to tolerate the ghouls, but he ends up having a weird little friendship with Nishiki. They both have so much shit to talk about their group. At some point Urie snaps after seeing everyone else get along so well, saying that it’s ghouls like him that killed his father and left him without a family. Nishiki tells him about how many ghouls are orphaned by the CCG, and that they need to make their own families, so so can he. He has them and the quinx doesn’t he? After that, Urie is more quiet and not quite as rude as he had been. He hadn’t considered that he could make a place for himself without power, and Nishiki remembers what that felt like

Tsukiyama wanted to meet them because he wanted to know if they were like Kaneki, so Yoshimura armed each of them with a can of Axe in case he got too close. Well Saiko actually befriended him, mostly because she realized she could sell her almost half-ghoul blood to him for quite a lot. She just gives it to him in a sandwich bag and a straw like a caprisun and then redoes her entire gaming set up

Saiko has also started helping Hide make files go missing, she’s much more technically adept than him

Koma took Mutsuki aside one day to warn him that the brand of testosterone he’s on might stop working now that he has a kakuhou. Turns out they have something in common, and ghouls are way more chill about that kind of thing than humans

Ginshi told the group that the reason he joined the CCG and let them make him a quinx is because of his sister and her rare RC disorder. Well Nishiki had a theory worth testing, and Touka, the healthiest Ukaku there, owed him a favor. They had Ginshi guide them to “visit” his sister, and they hooked Touka up to her through repurposed IV tubes. Funny thing about RC cells, once they have a kakuhou to collect in they stop overproducing. They did this “hooking up the kid to Touka like a living dialysis machine” thing a few more times, and it got her RC count down to a manageable level. The doctors have no idea how it happened, but Shirazu fully trusts the ghouls, he owes them his sister’s life

Speaking of his sister, he’s brought her to Anteiku since being discharged from the hospital, and she befriended Hinami

Renji has been roped into training them, Uta makes their masks and they get better at fighting like ghouls

Once again Yoshimura is forced to explain instinct and cultural stuff to them. Ginshi is the most pissed about having to keep his kakuhou covered because hey! Sometimes it gets hot! Now he has to wear his shirt all the time? Terrible. The other quinx are relived because Thank Fuck Ginshi Is Going To Stop Being Shirtless

Convincing these stupid kids that they need physical touch or they’ll get anxious is a whole ordeal. Among protests of “that sounds too hot, like temperature wise” from Mutsuki and “I don’t want to touch Saiko she hasn’t showered ever” from Shirazu and “that’s gay” from Urie’s closested ass, it took a bit. Event they started getting that touch starvation anxiety, and Touka and Nishiki, sick of dealing with this, just dragged them into the living room and forced them to try kagune cuddles. After that they got that it was necessary, and the chatue now has regular pile nights

[bloodredx]

Day 4: Medicine

It had been centuries since she first took up the practice, and if anyone knew the truth, one might argue that Lady Serena had invented the concept of modern medicine in Glacidea. She of course, would deny that if pressed, but fortunately no one would know to bring up the claim in the first place. One would just need to take one look around her office’s “collection of antique medical equipment” to see how things have changed over the years. Of course, these were really just a collection of favorite tools she herself used, some more delicate than others. Still, even knowing the good memories of helping people, saving lives, and removing pain from those who so desperately needed the care, the lingering knowledge of death would forever chase her.

Perhaps when she was younger, and felt more guilt over her position in unlife, particularly over the damage she had past caused, that death’s hand being right next to her own would have made her quiver. No longer, for Serena was now quite confident with the fact that Adamsa Frisay often accompanied her on her lonely walks down the hospital’s hallways. The God of the End was the most mysterious of the pantheon, but that never changed the sad kinship she felt when reflecting upon that inevitability, even for herself. Though she’d been plenty successful in not meeting him just yet.

Still, she was no god. And no matter what, people died. Her eyes scanned the test results quickly, keeping pace with the strip of paper the blood chemistry machine was printing out. “Lymphocytes dangerously low…” The doctor pulled up her patient’s chart as she remained unsurprised. His blood smelled that way, even as she loaded it into the machine. “Ketone high as well. Just into the brink of acidosis.”

The Lady took a sip from a coffee mug, cheekily printed with a label to “Donate Blood!” Of course the substance within was the result of such generosity, but the taste of good blood still didn’t overpower the smell of her patient’s blood. “Creatinine is also sky rocketing.” She tutted her tongue as she made notes in her precise cursive.

Icarus, who never felt truly comfortable in the lab, seemed able to put aside his general discomfort for once to take interest in his mentor’s work for once. “Do you always talk to yourself this much while working?”

Serena shot him a look with targeted precision. “Does it bother you?”

Her ward nearly recoiled, lifting his hands in defense. “Not at all. I meant to ask, does it help you?”

“Organize my thoughts, yes. I suppose it’s more routine at this point.” She laid her pen down on the counter, and pulled the read out of results from the printer. Another sip of her mug as she crinkled her nose. “Does the smell not bother you?”

“Of that man’s blood?” Icarus raised his brow. “A little, now that you mention it. But it’s still so intoxicating in any other way.”

“Hmm.” Serena noted his response before turning to face him, a stern expression on her face.

“What’s wrong with him?”

“He’s dying.” She took another measured sip of blood. “Critical failure of his kidneys and liver to an extent that he would not survive the wait list for a transplant. For either organ.”

Though it had been years that he’d known the Lady now, her bluntness never sat easy with him. Even more so at the weight for a potential death. “Anything you can do?”

“An ignorant question.” She concluded quickly. “There is much we can attempt, dialysis, intense regiments of drugs that would otherwise cause innumerable side effects to his overall quality of life. But the fact remains he was rolled into my ER unconscious and so affected by jaundice that even running these tests for a few minutes has cut off the effectiveness of any treatment by hours. Days even.”

“So you’ll let him die?” Icarus stood up, feeling heat coursing through his veins. Though he wasn’t sure what the cause was, certainly the Lady could be cruel, but she wasn’t heartless. At least not to that extent.

“Everyone dies, Icarus. Even us.” Her voice was icy, flat against the sterile lab environment. “But that being said, I have ideas of options for his family. Ultimately, that’s their choice, his fate. And you had best believe I’ll go through with any plan they approve to my best ability. I’ll move mountains, drain seas, and plug volcanos for them. But I am merely a medical tool, I can no better stop the inevitable than you can stop time eroding history.”

A silent standoff went off within Icarus’s mind. She was right on one level. But she did have other choices. One that most other doctors didn’t. “Have you ever thought about embracing someone?”

He regretted the question the second it left his lips, wincing reflexively to avoid the sour expression and lecture his mentor was sure about to bury him under. But after a few moments of extended quiet, he cracked an eyelid to see what stopped her from her relentless fury.

Instead of the traditional scowl, her face was heavy with an emotion he hadn’t seen on Serena. Was it sadness? Remorse? He couldn’t tell, but her lips frowned in a softer angle than he had seen before, and for once she had broken her near constant, near dominating eye contact. No, she was staring squarely at her own wrists, eyes following the too dark veins that crossed under her pale skin. She a drew a deep breath, one that both of them knew was unneeded, but still an element to any conversation, no matter the need of oxygen, before opening her mouth slowly to speak.

“I would love to lie to you and say no, it hasn’t.” A pause, unlike her. “But I am many things, a liar is not included amongst them.” A finger traced alongside the veins as she continued. “It would be very easy, the most perfect cure to illness, and a near perfect one to death entirely. And though I am quite content with my existence, I cannot find nor guarantee that anyone else would be. To be thrust upon bloodlust without even knowing it, to be so sick and nearly gone to meet the gods again, and then be thrown back to the world with such darkness taken within them. I cannot ordain such behavior.

“There was an opportunity long ago where I could have done so to save someone I loved above all else at the time, to change the entire history of my world. But I wouldn’t, no, couldn’t do it. And the world has never been the same for me since.” She stepped away from the counter, taking a few stride to where Icarus was sitting, all in order to place a calm hand on his shoulder. “I cannot ask someone to follow me to where I am, but I have thought of it. It’s almost a feature of the blood; that we make more of ourselves to survive. However, I only ask that if you come upon the chance to find yourself in my shoes, that you won’t fall back to the easy fix, the snake oil cure. Vampire blood does much, but it takes much more than it gives. Practice good medicine in all that you do. I would hope I’ve rubbed off enough on you to leave you with that guidance if nothing else.”

Icarus felt himself frown as he tracked the glow of light in her brown eyes. What could he say in response to that? Certainly nothing snippy as he normally would, no. Heaviness sat in the air a moment, lingering like cigar smoke before he broke her gaze. “Of course, Lady Serena. I won’t do anything to disappoint you.”

Her hand dropped down to his, lifting them to chest level as she squeezed them tightly. “I know you won’t.”

The tenderness struck him, but then again so did everything else about this exchange. And he knew a little bit better the exact person his mentor was. While he could do little in the nature of medicine that she could, he could at the very least go on with the same grip on existence. “You have a life to fight for.” He returned the squeeze to her hand before letting go with a little push.

Her normal features snapped back into place, resetting the scene as if it had never happened in the first place. “That I do. Please excuse me.”

(OC-tober challenge by @oc-growth-and-development can be found here)

[intubatedangel]

Cold Snap: Chapter 7

Story Index - All my stories in one place.

Chapter 1 |  Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 |  Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

***

As soon as the camera angle changed, presumably someone in the news control room had realised they were showing a possibly dead woman under intensive CPR and had cut away, Anna and Carl started to get prepared. Carl called out for his team to join him in Trauma 4, the other rooms already claimed by those doctors who were scheduled for today. There was fewer of them than normal, a few of the nurses already occupied with minor injuries or the other trauma rooms. Zainab was also occupied by the cubicles, sheer practicality making her more useful with the minor injuries that don't need a fully qualified emergency doctor to double-check.

Anna and Carl were joined by Kirstie, Roger, and Trish. It would be enough for now; they could also call for additional help if they needed it when their patient arrived. Carl looked at them, figuring out a plan.

"We all saw what we're dealing with. Cold water drowning, clearly no pulse. Don't expect it to be any different when they arrive here. Our priorities are maintaining artificial circulation and oxygenation while we warm her up. We need to go fast, but careful. The last thing we need is to trigger rewarming collapse. Kirstie, I want you get in touch with Cardio-thoracics and with Nephrology, I want an ECMO or a dialysis machine, both can heat her blood directly, so either will do. We'll also need warmed saline, a lot of it Roger, I want to get a warmed gastric lavage going as soon as we can and depending on her temperature, we may need to consider a thoracic lavage too."

Anna cringed slightly at that. A thoracic lavage would involve sticking tube through their patient’s chest wall. It was brutal, but effective. Carl was continuing.

"Anna, Trish, get the temperature vest set up too, warm her from inside and out. Remember everyone, we have time. We do not give up until she is warm, understood?" The team all nods. "Ok, let’s get ready people." Carl finished, the others all going about their tasks. Trish went to get the temperature vest from Trauma 1, giving Anna a few moments alone with Carl.

"You sound confident." Anna told him as they stepped out of the way of the others.

He shrugged. "We have every reason to be. We have the equipment, the skills, and the circumstances favour us. Cold water drowning discovered almost instantly? It's not a guarantee, but in our line of work? It's the best damn odds we could ask for." He looked at her seeing her far off gaze. "Are you doing ok?" He asked.

She nodded slowly, then looked back at him, with a sharper nod. "Yeah. Just doing what you said." Her voice went quieter, just between the two of them. "Accepting it. Using it."

Carl nodded slowly. "Ok. Let me know if it gets too much. You can take a step back if you need to." He told her, keeping his own voice quiet.

Anna slipped her hand into his and they gave a mutual squeeze. Then, Trish came into the room with the bulky vest and Anna went to help her. They laid it on the trauma bed, spread open, ready and waiting for them. To Anna it looked inviting, and she couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to be wrapped up in it. At this point she would normally feel ashamed and try to bury the thought. This time, she didn't try to eradicate it. Instead, she filed it away. Something to think about later, maybe...even do later. She thought back to her unit on psychology during nursing school. Using rewards to encourage behaviour. If they succeeded, she would ask Carl if he could 'tinker' with one over the rest of the weekend, they were his experiment after all, maybe they could be her reward.

She shook her head, dispelling the fantasy and disguising the small smile on her face, as if she were trying to shake a stray lock of hair out of her eyes while she was setting the control panel on the pump unit, which they had hooked to the end of the bed. The had just finished arranging the hoses so they wouldn't be an obstruction when a receptionist stuck her head into the trauma room.

"We just got a 2-minute warning on the casualty." She announced.

"Thanks" Carl dismissed her, looking to the rest of his team. Kirstie was still on the phone in the corner, and she shrugged at Carl's questioning look. "Keep trying, everyone else, let's get out front."

* * *

Lucy kept on rocking her body weight forward and backward, keeping her shoulders and elbows locked, hands planted between Shona's pale breasts. Each time she leant forward, her hands pressed down the drowned young woman’s sternum 2 inches, squeezing Shona's stopped heart, pushing blood out of it and around her body. When Lucy rocked backwards, Shona's ribs sprang back also, releasing the pressure on her heart and allowing it to refill with blood.

Lucy did this over and over and over again, keeping the blood flowing. Keeping hope alive.

She'd heard the driver call out the minute warning. She was aware of Dave hooking things to the gurney and moving around her. She was also aware of the burning in her arms, the lead weight feeling of lactic acid build up. It was a long, excruciating minute. But Lucy never faltered. Shona's ribs bent inwards 100 times in that minute. Each perfect compression forced her abdomen to roll and her shoulders to pop. Her feet swayed and her head bobbed as the force of the compressions translated through her body. It was brutal, what her body was enduring. But that brutality was the only chance she had.

Lucy felt the entire ambulance tilt as it swung into the hospital grounds, felt the inertia tugging her as the brakes squealed and brought the ambulance to a stop. She ignored it all, maintaining her compressions until she saw the blur out the corner of her eye as Anna mounted the gurney, straddling Shona's unresponsive body. Just like they had done two days ago, and so many times before, Anna gave a short countdown before Lucy drew back her hands, Anna planted her own, and Shona's chest continued to be compressed.

The gurney was pulled from the back of the ambulance, Dave squeezing the Ambu-bag regularly, and was rushed towards the emergency entrance. Lucy let them go. She dropped onto the bench, flexing her aching fingers and breathing deeply to pay off the oxygen debt. She shook her arms out, then looked at the man beside her. Jones was still wrapped tightly in the blanket and was staring out after the gurney that had already disappeared around a corner and vanished from sight.

"Come on Jones, you need to get to checked over." She told him, dragging herself to her feet. She helped him from the back of the ambulance, despite the exhaustion she was feeling, and led him toward the entrance. An observer would have struggled to tell which was helping the other, and Lucy was grateful to the porter who ran over with a wheelchair, easing Jones into it before she pushed him into the busy triage area, leaning heavily on the handles herself.

* * *

 The wind had eased to a stiff breeze, though it still cut straight through you, in the hour since Shona had fatefully boarded the now sunk Beetle. Yet, none of the team that had assembled outside the sliding door was shivering. Their collective adrenaline rush banished the cold. There was a tension, but it was that invigorating kind of tension, rather than a panic fuelled one. They knew they were up to the task. Their determination was written all over their faces. So, they stood, filled with an anticipation that grew in intensity as the sirens of the ambulance grew louder. Like the legendary warrior, calmly waiting to enter an arena, their own kind of battle was about to begin, and they radiated the same serenity. The same clarity of purpose. The same capacity to spring into action at a moment’s notice.

The siren reached a crescendo, with an accompaniment of squealing tires, as the ambulance pulled into the emergency bay. Anna waited a beat, then stepped forward, giving Roger and Trish just enough time to pull open the rear doors of the ambulance, before she planted her foot on the step, lined herself up, and vaulted onto the gurney. Her knees made the metallic blanket crinkle as she landed softly and shuffled her knees forward. She gave the countdown, and as soon as Lucy's hands left the patients sternum, Anna snapped hers into position.

Even through her blue gloves, Anna could feel just how cold the young woman was. Her ghostly pale skin seemed to pull the warmth out of Anna's hands in an instant. It did not deter the nurse. She began her initial round of compressions. The first press was firm and harsh, to gauge the resistance of her patient’s chest, then those that followed were perfectly judged, pushing in the ideal two inches and drawing back fully in under a second. The gurney moving beneath her had no effect on Anna. She was in her zone. This, this was what she was born to do, and nothing, internal or external, could disturb her rhythm as she put all her effort into delivering the best chest compressions she could to the young woman who lay pulseless between her legs.

As she settled into her task, she became more aware of what was going on around her. She heard the whistling of the flatlined monitor, and she heard Carl say something loudly. He was clearly asking for details, as Anna began to hear the response from the paramedic who was pushing the gurney with one hand, while he squeezed the Ambu-bag that was connected to a breathing tube with the other.

"This is Shona. Trapped and immersed in near freezing water. Immersion resulted in asphyxiation via drowning. Due to the water temperature she's profoundly hypothermic, skin temperature of just 23C. She's been in respiratory and cardiac arrest for between 18 and 25 minutes, confirmed asystole for 5 of those, but likely much longer.  Resuscitation attempts started 14 minutes ago, with no response. She also has a closed fracture to her left tibia. We cleared her lungs and intubated 8 minutes ago, applied chemical heat packs and warmed saline as much as we could. Throughout she's had a palpable pulse with compressions, so major internal bleeding is unlikely."

Carl nodded through the report, and Anna knew he was taking in everything, filing it away in his mind, able to recall every detail at a moment’s notice, to the point that the chart Roger was making notes on would be for later doctors, not for the ER team. At the edges of her vision Anna saw black tarmac turn into the marble effect veneered flooring that ran through the ER and almost every other hospital, school and government building in the western world. During those moments Carl was processing what he had been told, and then he began to give orders.

"Right, let's carry on as planned. Get her into Trauma 4 and get her in the TMV. I want a central line in addition to those bilateral IVs, and I want wide bore access in one of her legs, ready for extracorporeal warming. Let's get an NG tube inserted too, bi-directional for the gastric lavage. Let's get a core temp before we consider surgical intervention though." Carl briefly held his fingers against Shona's femoral pulse point, his wrist resting against Anna's calf. "Good pulse with compressions Anna, keep it up, but let's also get a Lucas ready, this could be a long one people!" He said, a tone to his voice that instilled confidence and re-doubled their determination.

They were going to get their patient back. Shona, Anna reminded herself, looking at the girl beneath her, forcing her name into the front of her mind.  She had a cute face, even with pale skin and blue lips, that much was clear. The tape holding the ET tube also pulled at the corner of her mouth, forming a grimace, as though she could feel each brutal compression that Anna delivered.  Not that Anna was deterred. She was going to do everything she could to get Shona back. To see those lips pink instead of blue. Smiling instead of a forced grimace. She wasn't alone in those thoughts. The whole team was feeling the same way as they guided the gurney into the Trauma Wing and crashed through the doors into Trauma 4.

[asonofpeter]

Okay so I’m gonna put some warnings (talks of suicide, medical treatments, depression, feeling of isolation, emotional and domestic abuse, etc) and then talk below the cut (sorry it’s long)

Obviously I’ve been on a writing hiatus since the beginning of September and that’s due to the reason that my aunt was diagnosed with reno failure and was put on dialysis. Since then, she has been staying with my family to take care of her. It’s been really hard the past few days because she’s been in a lot of pain due to a surgery she got for a permanent catheter placed in her arm. The whole process was intense and it’s been a week and it still hurts and today I had to pick her up from dialysis earlier than usual because it wouldn’t even work. It’s hard to see her so frustrated and it’s gotten to the point where she’s asked my mom and I to push her in front of a truck or even shoot her. And I know she might be joking but for her to go to that level just shows how done she is with all of this. And on top of that, she was denied disability and Medicare so she could do dialysis at her own house because she’s been homesick. And to even bring up her lousy ass husband… this coward never visited her in the hospital when she was there for a week, he told my mom and I that when he drives for forty minutes to come and visit his own wife literally two times out of the week that he’s doing a sacrifice?! LITERALLY TO THE WOMAN WHO CHANGED HER ENTIRE SCHEDULE TO TAKE CARE OF HER SISTER, THE ONE WHO COOKS TO MAKE SURE SHE EATS, THE ONE WHO HELPS HER SHOWER THE ONE WHO GAVE UP HER OWN ROOM SO HER SISTER CAN SLEEP DOESN’T CONSIDER IT A SACRIFICE! My mother is the most kind and generous woman I ever known and what I do for my aunt is nothing compared to what she does. So for him to say that visiting his own wife is a sacrifice when my mom doesn’t even consider what she does is a sacrifice makes my blood boil so fucking much. And on top of that this dude is so emotionally abusive to my aunt. He hit her once before but she went back to him. For a year she’s been sick and I blame him for everything that she is going through. He’s the reason she thinks she is nothing. He is the reason she thinks her family doesn’t love her. He is the reason she is hooked up to a machine four hours a day three times a week. And even though I hate this bitch, when he comes over for the weekend, he brings my aunts dogs which she considers her babies. Even with all the pain she has or even if she is tired, I could see that she does better when she has her kids there. And once they’re gone she gets sad again and tells me that she misses them. I’ve told her that her husband should leave the dogs here so she could have that sense of home but he doesn’t want to because apparently “he needs them” like bruh? Your wife who is literally sick needs them much more than you pinche cabrón. This is all I have to say but idk I just want to know how to convince her husband to let the dogs stay here. Like I just know that’s going to make her feel so much better. Hopefully by next week they’ll be here.

[amarantine-amirite]

The Daily Double

Our computer ate itself on the Friday of Labor Day weekend. Of course, this happened on the weekend. Things would be too easy otherwise.

I logged in to do something. The computer crashed after I logged in. I thought nothing of it. I've had this happen before. If you turn it off and on again, that takes care of it.

Not this time. I turned the computer off and on again. It crashed before I got the chance to log in. The blue screen of death flashed on the screen. Cannot load OS.

I've read about “cannot load OS“. Today, it finally happened. What I'd read said "cannot load OS" was the end of the world. I wasn't sure if that was true in this case.

I came back to boot up the computer an hour later. Nothing happened. The hard drive just clicked. It’s official, I thought, the computer died.

I wasn’t sad about it, just annoyed that it interrupted my flow. I have all my important stuff backed up and we have other devices I can use until we replace the computer. I'm not screwed here. The computer eating itself turned out to be less of a disaster than I expected. That doesn’t stop me from feeling as though I’d forgotten something important.

Time went on. We got a new computer. The time our old computer ate itself became buried in my memories. And I thought it would stay that way.

It didn’t. It came back to haunt me on Halloween night.

Halloween fell on a weekend. It was the first weekend in a while where neither myself nor my mother had an assload of work to do. The phone rang, and everything changed. I had no idea what my mom was talking about on the phone, nor did I know who called, but immediately afterward, she demanded that I dress in my best clothes and we rushed out of the house to the car.

I repeatedly asked my mother where we were going. She never said anything. Whenever I tried to say anything, she ignored it. The only vocalization she made was when she cursed under her breath. “Shit, dammit; where the fuck is this fucking place?!”

We drove around in circles for about an hour. Eventually, we came to the hospital. My mother pulled over. “Vivian, get out!”

I got out of the car and went into the hospital. The receptionist recognized me. “Vivian, head down the hall, it’s the third room on your left.”

“What’s happening?” I asked.

“Mr. Maines wants to see you.”

I went into the third room on the left-hand hallway. I saw Mr. Maines lying in the bed, hooked up to all these tubes and a bunch of monitors. “Vivian, we need to talk.”

I sat down and pulled out my phone. I didn’t do it to them out; I did it because I saw a headline on the TV and I wanted to write it down before I forgot. It looked pretty interesting, something about electric cars.

Mr. Maines derisively glared at me as I wrote something on my phone. In true old man fashion, he complained about how kids rely too much on technology to survive from his hospital bed, hooked up to life support. “Damn technology, it’s making the young’uns lazy!”

I never shared that sentiment. Technology doesn’t make you lazy, it just makes hard stuff easier. Most of the time people you may view as "lazy" aren't just lazy. People on their phones appear lazy while people using a laptop appear productive even though you can do the same things on your phone. Sometimes, it's faster and more productive to use your phone. In other words, I’m not lazy; I’m just efficient.

"Why don't you take your advice and get off the life support system and go outside?" I said, gesturing to the dialysis machine and ventilator.

“Your sarcasm is not welcome here,” he growled, “besides, it’s been six months.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means you’ve had six months to write those lines, and they still aren’t done. This is what I mean when I say technology has made you lazy, you didn’t do your lines because you’re lazy!”

I’ve never told anyone the story before, in no small part because nobody believes me when I say this. But it’s true. It really happened.

It started in April. My grandparents and I went out for dinner on the Saturday of Easter weekend. I got up to go to the bathroom, and on my way back to the table, I heard a woman wearing a Hawaiian shirt and jeans and another woman in a mismatched pantsuit talking about something they saw at school. “Phoebe, you won't believe this, but I found a smattering of porn sites in the browsing history of one of the library computers,” said the woman in the mismatched pantsuit

The woman in the Hawaiian shirt replied, “Do you know who the culprit was?”

Mismatched Pantsuit sat there, puzzled. “No.”

“That's not good,” the woman in the Hawaiian shirt replied with a corporate tone of voice, “We need to pull the plug on this.” She pointed her finger declaratively.

“I agree. The kids need to know that this carries serious consequences, legal consequences.”

Meanwhile, I tried not to laugh as I listened in on the conversation. I mean, some kid got caught looking at porn in the middle of class. Better still, he didn’t even know that he got caught looking at porn in the middle of class. I tried not to laugh. I couldn’t. I just burst out laughing. The women heard me laughing and chuckled lightly, then the waiter helping the people at the table across from us heard us and thought that this was hilarious!

The next day at school, Mr. Maines pulled me aside after class and said that another teacher told me that I had eavesdropped on her conversation with the vice principal. He told me that I couldn’t go home; I had to stay after school and write “I must not eavesdrop on other people's conversations” 100 times.

However; here’s where things get interesting. If I didn’t have the lines done by the following day, they would double, and if I still didn’t have them done by the day after that, they would double again. In very short order, the number of lines I had to write became too great to complete. By one month, I would have to write more lines than in all the books in the school's library. After two months, I would have had to enlist the assistance of the entire world's population, writing over 8 billion lines. All those people have better things to do than to help write lines.

It’s October now. The lines still haven’t been done. “Mr. Maines,” I began firmly, “you should drop the expectation that I should write the lines because, at this point, it would be impossible.”

He didn’t want to hear what I had to say. "You have plenty of time to write the lines, you just didn't."

Most people would back down at this point. I doubled down. "I didn't write the lines because there were simply too many lines to write! I'm not lazy, I'm not going to write the lines because it's impossible. I knew that when you assigned them, and that hasn't changed."

"You're making shit up because you're angry that you can't get your way."

I wasn't making shit up. I had actual proof. When Mr. Maines told me I had to write the lines, instead of doing the lines, I built a model on the computer that showed the punishment was unreasonable. As I thought back to building the model, I remembered but that model was on the computer that had eaten itself on Labor Day weekend. I felt myself throw up in my mouth when I realized that that was the one thing on that computer that I didn't back up! I had forgotten something important after all. "Oh, no," I whimpered.

Mr. Maines overcame whatever ailed him and sneered at me. "Oh, no is Right, Vivian." Then he went for the throat. "If those damn lines are not on my desk by tomorrow, they'll square! And they’ll square for every day they aren't done!”

I couldn’t believe what I just heard. I told him that I had an impossible number of lines to do, and he took it and made it worse. The number of lines that I now need to write is more or less equal to the capacity of the known universe to produce handwritten lines. Only if all the galaxies were converted into paper and ink could I complete the lines. And that, my friends, is physically impossible. To hell with that, I thought, I’m going home. I walked out of the hospital room.

I still haven’t written the lines. And why should I? Trying to complete all those lines by tomorrow would run up against the laws of physics.

[johannstutt413]

(requested by coldgoldlazarus)

“Hey, Blood, ya feelin’ okay?” Aak and his rival were in his office, ostensibly to commit crimes against nature but today weren’t really in the mood. More accurately, one of them clearly wasn’t. “Never seen ya so mis’rable before.”

“Oh, it’s nothing...I just wonder if I should finally ask her.” Warfarin sighed, sinking against his desk.

The Feline leaned in closer. “Ask who what?”

“...Oh, right, you don’t know. I forget you haven’t always been here.” She reached over and scratched behind his ears, a lonely woman petting her cat. “I’ve known Dr. Kal’tsit for some time now, but until their amnesia, she was dating the Doctor, and while they were gone, she was grieving, so...”

“Oh, I getcha. Now that I’m datin’ her, you want to make your move on Kally? Well, good luck with that, Blood.”

The Sarkaz sighed again. “I’m just not sure what I’d do if I ask her and she says no. It’s one thing to long for something but never go after it, and quite another to try to get it and know you never had the chance.”

“Man, she’s gotcha good and messed up if you’re doin’ this much thinkin’.” He inverted the usual headpat direction by patting her on the head instead. “Look, I didn’t wanna say anything and make things weird, but if the Doctor hadn’t confessed to me, I’d probably make a move on you, and lemme tell you, if she liked the Doctor, she’s gonna loooove you.”

 “You...You would’ve?” That was a twist she hadn’t seen coming.

Aak realized his mistake. “Fuck, actually said that, huh...Yeah. Still would, if things don’t work out for us.”

“Well, um, good to know.” Yeah, it definitely made things awkward. “How did she confess to you?”

“I went to talk to her cuz I was feelin’ down, she called me handsome while tellin’ me I’m where I oughta be, I called her out on it, and she ambushed me.” The Feline did his best to ignore the flashbacks to that first night that popped into his mind.

Warfarin nodded. “I can probably do that.”

“Sorry? Oh, to Kally.” He shrugged. “Maybe it’ll work, maybe it won’t. I mean, ya don’t seem like that kinda woman to me, y’know?”

“You weren’t here before my restraining order was signed.” The flash in her eyes told him everything he needed to know about that.

...Speaking of crazy. “I need to go do somethin’, so uh...Gonna have to kick ya out for now.”

“And leave me to ask her out?” Warfarin smiled. “I see what you’re doing. Well, if you insist.”

“Yeah, go get ‘er, Blood.” That hadn’t been the idea at all - that expression had put him in a Doctor-distracting mood - but whatever floated the Sarkaz’s boat. Or, maybe more accurately, started her ship.

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

Dr. Kal’tsit, as Warfarin expected, was in her office, shuffling through papers, when there was a knock on the door. “Come in, Warfarin.”

“You always know when I’m at your door,” she replied as she opened it before closing it behind her. “Do you have a minute?”

“For you, I suppose I can find one.” She looked up...to see the Sarkaz watching her very intently.

The vampress sat in the guest chair, leaning forward. “I need you, Kal’tsit.”

“You already have my attention.” Although the Feline suspected that wasn't quite what she meant. “What more can I give you?”

“So much more, I’m sure...but I’d start with a movie date.”

Ah. Yep, there it was. “Three weeks after she started dating your rival was all it took?”

“It was three weeks too long as it was...Far more than that.” Warfarin’s coat billowed ominously behind her despite a complete lack of wind in the room. “I should have told you how I felt when I first met you.”

“Really? You fell in love that fast?” Kal’tsit flipped a switch to turn on a coffee maker.

The Sarkaz shook her head. “At that point, I was only mildly interested, but if I’d gotten my foot through the door, I might’ve swayed you before the Doctor got to you, and you might’ve been spared some of the pain.”

“...Hearing you care about my pain is enough whiplash for one conversation, I think.” She sighed. “You’ve been here since the beginning, and you still waited on me?”

“I have all the time in the world, but I’ve already lost too much of that to saying nothing. If you’re going to refuse me, do it quickly.” She held her stare, waiting for an answer.

The Feline glanced down at her paperwork, made a quick note, and nodded to herself before answering. “Are you free tonight?”

“Yes, definitely.” Hell, she was a night owl, of course she was free. “Anything you want to see?”

“Not a movie, that’s for sure. Find me after work and we’ll go back to my place; I have a birthday cake I froze a week ago I need to eat, and I’d rather not give myself Type III diabetes eating it myself.”

Warfarin’s eyes widened. “Are you asking me for a date or a dialysis machine?”

“You can eat cake, I’m sure.” Kal’tsit smiled at her, and it sent a pleasant shiver down her spine. “Besides, if I remember from the last time you took a sample from me, I was a touch too bitter.”

“Blood sugar doesn’t literally work like that, though,” the vampress rebutted.

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, I know, I’ve read your papers. That was a joke. Will you come over to my place to help me clear out my fridge and my DVR of soap operas or not?”

“Oh, I’ll certainly be there.” There was a moment of silence. “Before I go, though-”

“One fluid ounce.”

The Sarkaz shook her head. “Not yet. Something more personal.”

“More personal than my blood?...Well, alright then.” Kal’tsit got up from her chair, meeting her halfway around her desk. “It seemed like you might take things slow for a minute there.”

“I may be almost immortal, but I’m not wasteful with my time. Especially not when it comes to you.” Warfarin took the opportunity to hug her, her heck tantalizingly close but denying herself the opportunity.

The Feline, however, did not. The noise the vampress made when she nommed her ear was priceless.

[tact-and-impulse]

With These Hands Chapter 11

Look, I say we’re ending 2020 with affection and fluff! Also, now that I know what it’s like working in a hospital, I can write this AU better, and this episode has heavy influence from my first night call shifts. For my fellow healthcare workers, because this was...a year. Here’s to staying safe in 2021!

The rest of this chapter is under the cut or on FF.net and AO3

Chapter 11: Endurance

Admittedly, Kenshin’s stomach dropped when he saw her. She was limp in her chair, arms dangling at her sides and her face turned away.

“Kaoru-dono?!” He rushed to her desk, panic overriding sensibility. But before he could touch her, her eyes snapped open and her right fist lashed out in a glancing blow that brought him to his knees. Acting on instinct, he latched onto the edge of her desk, elbow colliding with the hard surface. “Oro!”

At the contact, she blinked away her drowsiness. “Ken…shin? Oh, no! I’m so sorry! Are you okay?” She sat up, her fingertips brushing his aching cheekbone. The pain was already fading, and he resisted leaning in.

“This one is fine. It was this one’s fault, surprising you.” He managed to answer. Despite how his skin was buzzing, he was not going to behave like a hormonal teenager.

“I still shouldn’t have punched you.” She withdrew, her voice full of concern. “I hope it won’t bruise.”

“There have been worse hits that this one has taken, so don’t worry.” And on that same side as well, he ruefully thought. “Are you still working?” It was already past seven.

“I’m on night call.” Her explanation contained no small amount of misery. “And I had a meeting in the afternoon, so I only got an hour of sleep before I came here. It’s going to be a long Thursday night; at least, I have the weekend off. What about you?”

“This one is also in the same situation, filling in for a colleague who was supposed to work tonight. There was a family emergency, so this one is here instead.”

“Oh, good. Not that you have to work on short notice,” She hastily added. “But we can keep each other company.”

“That’s true. It will be easier to stay awake.” He would have been content to stay at her desk; he had nothing urgent at the moment. But she did, as signaled by her blaring pager. She mouthed an apology, before taking the call. Leaving her to her responsibilities, he drifted back to his spot across the room, to print his list of patients.

***

He was reading the interim notes on his patients when she commented.

“By the way, I forgot to mention earlier. I like your scrubs.”

“Oro?” The faded magenta met his downward gaze. “These are very old.”

“But you look so cheerful! The other male doctors stick to blue or black.”

“So did this one, in the past. However, brighter colors can be comforting or distracting for the children, so that’s something this one can do for them.”

“You also can pull it off, because you’re an attending.” She pointed out, and he laughed.

“There’s nothing wrong with navy either.”

“It’s not navy, it’s indigo.” Grinning, she tugged the front of her scrub top. “But it’s my favorite color.”

“It suits you very well.” Belatedly, he wondered if that was harassment, but she didn’t seem to mind. In fact, she blushed. At the sight, his own face warmed.

“Thanks.” For a heartbeat, the only sound was the humming of their computers. Abruptly stretching her arms over her head, she declared. “I need coffee. The cafeteria’s closed, but do you want anything from the vending machine?”

“This one can join you.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to bother you if you’re busy, and you can just text me.” They had already exchanged numbers, thanks to the group chat Misao had started for the workroom.

“No, it will be a long night and this one prefers not to stay in one spot.” He pocketed his pager and stood from his chair.

Her smile widened. “Yeah, I won’t argue with that. And I’m glad! It’s more fun with you.” Her blush had not faded, and his cheek tingled.

He replied honestly. “This one feels the same way.”

Unfortunately, the closest machine had its interior lights off and the glass front bore a paper sign. ‘Out of Order’ was written in large block letters, punctuated by a frowning face. If he had to guess, it appeared to be the handiwork of either Sano or Misao, perhaps even a joint effort.

“That’s a shame.” He said. “Should we search for another?”

“Sounds like a plan! Let’s hope the others are still functioning.”

Their workroom was at the injunction between the main building and the children’s hospital, so they had options. He allowed her to decide, and she headed for the pediatric side. She swiped her badge to access a corridor that was glass on both sides, from ceiling to floor.

“This part is one of the best, in my opinion. Well, at least during the day.” Outside, it was dark, except for the street lamps. Occasionally, a car zipped past on the road below, illuminating the surrounding greenery. But he understood her. When it was sunny, they were provided with a scenic view of the city beyond.

“Yes, it’s the closest we have to stepping out. It’s important to have something to look at, other than the interior of the building.”

“Right? I always feel more rejuvenated when I go through this way. Although, I do love the murals in the children’s hospital.”

“Which do you like best?”

“Hmm. I think the bamboo forest, on the sixth floor. The animals are cute, the pandas and the tanuki.”

“Also, because that is where shinai come from?” He innocently referred to her love for kenjutsu.

“Okay, a little bit.” But she laughed. “Well, which is your favorite?”

He already had an answer. “The fourth floor, with the countryside motif. It reminds this one of his childhood.”

“You were a country boy?”

“In the Kansai region, yes. However, it has been almost twenty years since this one lived there. This one doesn’t even remember the closest town. We did grow rice and vegetables, and there were some chickens.” He pieced together the fragmented memories. “But it was a very long time ago.”

“It must have, I couldn’t tell at all.” She was thoughtful, and he realized he might have shared too much. But she didn’t pry, instead asking. “Did you have any baby chicks?”

“Not that this one can remember.”

“That’s too bad.” Disappointment showed on her face.

He smiled. The image of Kaoru, cradling fluffy chicks in her arms, was sweet.

In a corner near an empty waiting area, they finally found a working vending machine. Kaoru cheered at its presence, peering within to decide on her snacks. She was terribly adorable, depositing her change and punching the buttons. Holding her coffee and a package of chocolate-covered biscuits, she beamed. “Alright, your turn!”

As she walked past, he caught the scent of jasmine flowers. Too subtle to be perfume, it must have been her shampoo. He thought it was pleasant.

“Kenshin? Aren’t you going to buy something?”

He jolted, realizing he hadn’t moved. “A-ah, yes.” Breathing deeply to settle his nerves, he chose a bottle of green tea, and the same cookies she picked. She had already opened her drink and sipped it as they walked back.

“Whew, I feel a lot better.”

“That’s good. You need your strength for the hours ahead.”

“Yeah. I still wish I had more sleep, but I just remind myself that at least, I’m not in one of the hospital beds. That was much harder.”

“And now, you’re here. Your patients are extremely fortunate to have you, because you understand what it must be like.”

Her blush had returned in full force. She nodded, before her brows drew together. “Wait-”

Overhead, the loudspeaker crackled, calling for a medical response team. They both stopped, listening attentively. The alert meant that a patient’s condition was deteriorating. He checked his list as the room number was announced. It did not belong to any of his charges, and judging from how Kaoru exhaled, it wasn’t any of hers either. But elsewhere, someone was struggling and their colleagues were doing everything they could to save them.

As they approached familiar walls, it was his pager’s turn to vibrate, and reluctantly, he excused himself.

***

After midnight, he had one emergency surgery, for a patient that had gone into hemorrhagic shock. Two hours later, he emerged from the operating room, the worst outcome kept at bay. He ordered for two units of blood, to be transfused if the patient was anemic, and headed back to the workroom.

Kaoru had her earbuds in, obviously engrossed. Upon his entrance, she removed them and greeted him. “Hey, Kenshin. How’d it go?”

“Well enough. The patient is stable for now, but this one will keep a close eye. Did you have any new admissions?”

“Just one in the emergency room, who’s waiting to be placed in a room, but it seems like a straightforward case. History of glycogen storage disorder, so I’ve been reading up.”

“This one didn’t realize articles were accessible on CD.” He had noticed the small player next to her keyboard, that had appeared in his absence.

“Oh, no, this is an audiobook. It’s an old one, I already know all the twists. I only replay it because of the narrator.” Her expression became very fond.

“Ah.” Inwardly, he was caught off guard, but he maintained a neutral face. “Is he a good actor?”

“I think she was. This book is one of my mother’s recordings, after all. Would you like to hear her?”

Somewhat embarrassed, he agreed, and she transferred the CD to her computer. Momentarily, a woman’s gentle voice filled the air. Her cadence and intonation were similar to Kaoru’s, and she switched between characters with impressive ease. It seemed to be an anthology of short stories.

“You were not wrong; her performance is wonderful.”

“I’m glad you think so! She’d be happy to hear that, if she were alive.” Kaoru clarified. “She had lupus, and she passed away from kidney failure when I was young. She couldn’t get a transplant in time. The Mirror Wing in the main hospital is named for her.” The dialysis unit was located there.

“You must miss her.”

“I do, but at least, I have Okaa-san in this way. Not many people can say the same.”

He definitely couldn’t. Then, the staccato beeps of her pager interrupted them again. He was beginning to dislike that particular ring.

By three in the morning, Kaoru was starting to falter. She was continuing to type on her computer, but her head nodded and she occasionally jolted, unconsciously trying to stay awake.

“Kaoru-dono.”

“Hmm?” Her gaze lifted, though not quite focusing.

“Please, get some rest. The work can wait.” He gently said. “This one can turn the lights off, if that would help.”

“Would you? That’d be really nice.” She murmured.

He flipped the switches, leaving the glow of his monitor. “If there was a bed, that would be better.”

“It’s okay. Hospital beds aren’t very comfy.” She certainly spoke from experience. She opened one of her desk drawers, taking out a spare surgical mask. “Please don’t tell anyone else in your department.”  Before he could inquire further, she proceeded to wear it over her face, and it was large enough to cover her eyes.

He had to stifle his laughter. “This one promises.”

It was uneventful afterwards, without beeping pagers or loudspeaker announcements. He lasted another hour and a half, before he felt the familiar pull of exhaustion. He logged off and sat back in his chair. He could never fully sleep while on the job. That was especially true now, with Kamiya Kaoru in the same room, softly breathing.

It was Director Kamiya who had offered him a place at Kamiya Kasshin, while he was still working for Katsura. He had been disillusioned and burnt out, entertaining ideas of quitting medicine. He was too ashamed to talk to Hiko, but he caved to the “fates” as his guardian liked to refer to them. Akane, Kasumi, and Sakura had sat him down, persuading him to take the new job before deciding anything further. Akane was particularly fervent, she had never liked Katsura.

So, he had accepted the position and adjusting to the new work environment occupied him. Then, the accident happened. It was on a night not too different from this one, and he had also been on call. He heard there was a group of people, on the phone with the director at the crash site, trying to obtain details. He had run to that desk, preparing to encourage the man who had helped him so far. It was at the other end of the hospital and he was relatively late, everyone else mobilizing for the victims’ arrival. When he picked up the phone, he was out of breath. “Kamiya-dono?”

Instead of Director Kamiya’s voice, there was a young, feminine one. Choked with tears, but still strong. “Hello? Please, can you hear me?”

One fateful conversation, and she reminded him of what he loved about his profession. But she didn’t seem to remember. That was alright, the memory was wrapped up in tragedy, and he didn’t want to hurt her. Getting to know her was enough. Even after six years, she was very much the same woman he had spoken to. Compassionate, brave, honest.

Hiko, being his usual infuriating self, had accused him of having a crush, although Kenshin was disgruntled. Not that Kaoru wasn’t attractive, but it was not the point. It wasn’t a crush, he was immensely grateful to Kaoru as well as her late father, for his current life. Originally, he was trying to repay their kindness, in what little he could manage on his part. So far, he enjoyed spending time with her, even when on call. Around her, and for that matter, their other workroom colleagues, he felt at ease in a way that he hadn’t experienced in decades.

But if she asked about him…? He hadn’t decided what he would do yet.

***

Kenshin slowly emerged from his trance. The blinds had been opened, the sky pink with dawn. He clicked his mouse and the monitor lit with the time. Just past six. Night call was almost over.

Kaoru’s chair was empty, and he drowsily recalled her rummaging about, before the door closed. She must have gone to pre-round on her patients, to check on them before meeting with the rest of her team. He hoped they would let her go before noon.

He relayed the night’s events to the day shift’s surgeon, who insisted that everything would be taken care of and please get some rest, Dr. Himura. But he went to check on his shock patient, who was thankfully stable. Then, the parents arrived in the waiting area, and he took the opportunity to speak to them. By the time he returned to retrieve his things, it was already ten. Kaoru was also there, greeting him as if she hadn’t spent the night at the hospital.

“Morning, Kenshin!”

“Good morning. How were your rounds?” He inquired, clearing his desk.

“Quick, thank goodness.”

“And how are you?”

“I feel fine. Well, I know it’s fake, I’ll probably crash once I get home. I’m just going to submit my notes, and then, I’ll go.” She didn’t sit down, her eyes glued to her screen as she logged in. A few clicks, and then, she grabbed her bag. “Done! Geez, I’m ready to leave.”

“Good work, Kaoru-dono.”

“You too.” Despite how little she must have slept, her smile was as radiant as ever. “But you’re still here? I thought you would have been out by now.”

“This one had a few tasks, but this one was just about to leave as well. After you.” He urged her ahead of him. They shared an elevator down, luckily without any stops.

“Have you already eaten breakfast?” She asked.

“This one had a leftover rice ball. The cafeteria is…” His weary mind searched for a word that would be appropriate.

“I know, I really want Tae to expand her hours, but she can’t while she has her regular job. I think I have cup ramen in my pantry.”

“Next time, this one will bring enough onigiri to share.”

“Next time?” She repeated, emphasizing the implication of another call shift in the near future, but she was laughing. “Would they have caffeine in them?”

He smiled at her. “For you, this one will make an exception.”

Her cheeks grew pink. “Thank you, I’ll look forward to it.” After a pause, she added. “What would even be inside such onigiri? Instant coffee?”

Matcha powder actually, but he needed to perfect that recipe. “It would be a surprise.”

“Geez!”

They passed the lobby, and bright sunshine filled his vision. After spending so long in the hospital, it was a relief to be out in the open again. The cloudless sky was an immaculate blue, the fresh air crisp. Beside him, Kaoru sighed, her lips curving. The wind tossed her ponytail, and she shoved her hands in her pockets, continuing on. Suddenly aware that he was staring again, he picked up his feet. Then, they were already at the garage and had to part ways. Work had truly ended.

“Drive safe and sleep well! I’ll see you on Monday!” She waved and he did the same.

“Take care.”

There was no traffic, and his empty apartment was cool. It was quiet as he meticulously cleaned his belongings. As he walked to his bedroom, he barely made a sound. The shower seemed too loud, and so did the hair dryer. Slipping between his clean sheets, he noticed the lack of scent. After leaving his glasses on his nightstand, he checked his phone again. Nothing new, which was supposed to be good. He hovered over Kaoru’s name in the group chat. Well…it wouldn’t hurt. His thumb pressed down, and he began to type.

This one hopes you returned home without issue and that you have a relaxing weekend.

With the message sent, he locked the screen. She could reply on her own time.

And at last, he closed his eyes.

[bloodfromthethorn]

Can’t Wake Up

Sitting beside a hospital bed was bad. Sitting beside a hospital bed waiting for your friend to wake up so he could tell you who had kidnapped your missing partner was oh so much worse.

Part six of the July of Whump 2021 prompt challenge.

Also on AO3. 

..

It was starting to feel like Jack had spent more of his nights sitting in uncomfortable hospital chairs beside uncomfortable hospital beds than he had sleeping in his own apartment. No doubt if he were here, Mac would laugh at the notion and spout of some facts about the psychology of time moving slowly when you’re worrying about something, but then, that was rather the issue, wasn’t it? Mac wasn’t here.

Instead, what Jack had was a house in total disarray, a missing EOD tech, and a heavily drugged best friend who, six hours after being found, was still absolutely refusing to stir.

Arriving at Mac’s house to find the tell-tale signs of a fight and no blond in sight was a memory Jack never, ever wanted to repeat. Then he’d quite literally stumbled over Bozer’s body where it had slumped down beside the kitchen counter and Jack had momentarily forgotten all thoughts of Mac in his desperate scramble to find a pulse. He didn’t breathe again until he did, nearly collapsing with relief when he established Bozer was alive and seemingly not hurt.

Of course, he then had to revise that assessment when the paramedics he’d summoned discovered the track mark on the crook of Bozer’s elbow. Some hurried bloodwork panels had identified a heavy-duty anaesthetic that shouldn’t pose any real health risk, thank god, but that still left him sleeping it off while Mac was in trouble out there somewhere in the world. Even with Riley digging through every security camera and system she could find, the afternoon had slipped away with absolutely no progress on where Mac had gone or who might have taken him.

Somehow, someone had managed to get into Mac’s neighbourhood, break into his house without tripping the alarm, dose Bozer and nab Mac, and then flee the scene without ever once showing their face. Riley hadn’t even managed to identify a vehicle out of place on traffic cams – they’d momentarily thought they got lucky when they spotted a handyman van, but one completely unnecessary tac-team raid and a very confused plumber later, Matty was left making apologies and Jack returned to Boze’s bedside without success.

He ran a frustrated hand over his face with a sigh.

It felt like his day had been going on for a hundred years, but the very thought of sleeping was impossible. Mac needed him and despite what the nurses had been trying to tell him for hours now, Boze wasn’t looking so hot either. According to the Phoenix med team, he just needed to sleep off the drug and then he should bounce right back; even if they were wrong, they were keeping him in for observation to make sure they caught any unforeseen negative reactions. Jack wasn’t entirely convinced – he wouldn’t be until Boze opened his eyes again and, hopefully, told them what happened to Mac.

Without anything else to go on, Bozer was their only lead and he wasn’t waking up. If he didn’t – or if he did and he didn’t know where Mac was – Jack had no idea what he was going to do. Something Mac wouldn’t approve of, probably.

For now though, Jack couldn’t focus on that. All he could do was sit there and monitor the slightest changes in Boze’s vital signs as he gradually came out of sedation. Riley had wanted to be right there with him, but her connection was better in the War Room, and being able to use the big screen came in handy when she was juggling too many data feeds at once; the compromise they’d struck was that Jack had promised to call her the second anything changed with Boze, and she’d agreed to do the same if she found any information about his missing partner. So far, his phone hadn’t buzzed once.

“I don’t know if you can hear me in there man,” he said quietly to the silent room, “But if you can, I really need you right now buddy. Mac really needs you.”

Boze slept on, undisturbed. Jack took a shaky breath, sighed, and leaned back to settle in for the wait.

..

No matter how much Jack hoped and prayed and stressed and bargained, the clock ticked past midnight without a single stir. Another blood test had revealed that the levels of the drug pumping through Bozer had decreased substantially, but it was still clinging on. Jack was of half a mind to demand they get him hooked up to a dialysis machine to speed up the whole process, but even with everything going on he could understand that the risks outweighed any possible benefits. He wasn’t about to gamble with Boze’s life on the off-chance he had information about Mac.

Mostly he whiled away the time staring into space and desperately trying not to think of where his partner might be in that moment. Unfortunately, he never had been particularly good at not assuming the worst, and he had a long, dark history of run-ins with the lowest of the low to provide him with some truly impressive imagination.

He was able to distract himself for a brief while when his primary tac-team switched out at the end of their shift. All of them requested to be kept on despite the fact that they’d been working for a solid twelve hours – Mac was well-liked, and Jack had made a point of ensuring he got to know the boys with guns who always ended up running in to save the day – but he’d insisted they go home to get some rest. When they’d refused, citing his own hypocrisy since he had no intention of leaving the medical bay, he’d let them bully him into agreeing to call them when they got a lead on Mac. With that sorted, he’d settled in to brief the replacement shift who’d all immediately grasped the seriousness of the situation. At the rate they were going, by the time they did eventually catch up with Mac, Jack would have half of downtown LA backing him up.

“How’re you doing, man?” He asked when he returned to Bozer’s room. The nurses had been given orders to call him if anything changed, but it was clear at a glance nothing had. “You’re making me sleepy just looking at you, y’know?”

Like practiced steps of a dance, he shuffled back into his seat and cursed as his bones protested.

Twenty minutes later, the door cracked open and Riley inched her way inside with a coffee holder in one hand and her rig in the other. When he scrambled up to help her, she thrust the two coffee cups in his direction and planted herself firmly in the second chair to resettle the laptop on her knee. Programs Jack wasn’t about to try to even understand whirred away on the screen.

“One on the left is yours,” she said in greeting, nodding at the coffees. “Thought you could probably use some caffeine if you aren’t going to sleep.”

“Hey, hey, you don’t get to hassle me about it when you’re still here too. When was the last time you slept, huh?”

She sighed heavily, reached for her coffee, and shook her head. “It feels like years ago.”

The best Jack could offer her was a grim smile and a gentle knock to the shoulder as he retook his place at Bozer’s bedside. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

“I still haven’t found anything,” she said after a long moment of looking over her slumbering friend. Jack already knew that because she’d have told him if she had, but the self-accusation in her voice was hard to miss. He whipped around to face her.

“Sweetheart, that’s not on you. You’re doing everything you can and sometimes that just ain’t enough. It’s not your fault.”

She digested that for a moment, and Jack got to watch the heart-breaking shift when the last ten hours caught up to her and her gaze suddenly turned watery. He had his arms out and was pulling her into his tightest hug before she had a chance to say a word.

“It’s okay,” he murmured in her ear as his shirt grew wet. He smoothed down her hair idly with one hand. “Don’t you worry none, it’s going to be alright. It’s okay.”

“I’m scared Jack.” Her voice was small and tremulous.

His breath caught in his throat, heart clenching painfully. “Me too darling. Me too.”

..

For all their waiting, when the moment finally came it all felt a bit anticlimactic. There was a slight uptick in Boze’s heart rate, and then five minutes later his eyes blinked open and he turned to look at the pair of them like nothing was amiss. Jack was so worn down by stress and exhaustion that it took him a second to realise he wasn’t imagining things.

“Boze? You with us?”

He blinked. “Jack? Riley? What-” His eyes did a quick circuit of the room, then down at the wires and monitors he was hooked up to. They let him do the math on his own and by the time he turned back to them, the sleepy haze had entirely vanished. “Guys, Mac’s in trouble.”

They’d known it all along, really, but the confirmation still felt a bit like being stabbed with a rusty blade. Still, Jack limited himself to just nodding. “We know Boze. We were kinda hoping you could help us out with what happened.”

Bozer was already trying to pull himself up, tugging off his pulse ox and chest tabs as he went then glaring at the monitors as though it was their fault they were suddenly beeping in alarm. Riley pointedly leaned over and flicked them off in turn. “You remember that mission three months ago, in Bolivia?” Boze was saying. “With the human traffickers?”

Riley was already tapping away at her laptop, pulling up mission reports and key phrases and a whole host of information Jack was distantly sure she should have access to.

“Yeah,” he said instead of questioning it. “We cut off the supply and took down that big guy running the thing. Cameron?”

“Callahan,” Riley corrected without looking up.

“Yeah,” Bozer agreed instantly, snapping his fingers. It was hard to remember how still he’d been just a moment ago now that he was all but vibrating with animation. “Him. Turns out he had a brother. Guy busted in through the back, got the drop on me and Mac. Brought some friends with him for good measure. I didn’t catch all of it, but he said something about wanting to make him pay for letting his ��merchandise’ go.”

Something sick turned over in the pit of Jack’s stomach but now was not the time to dwell on the more horrific aspects of society. Now was the time for action, and if Jack had his way that action was going to be violence.

Riley’s fingers were like lightning over her keyboard.

“Ri, you got something for me?”

She didn’t break stride. “Not yet, but I think I’m about to. Go get your team, I’ll call you.”

Jack hopped to his feet with sudden energy, clapping a warm hand to Bozer’s shoulder before snagging his jacket and darting from the room. That was one member of his team safe – now it was time to save the other.

Now continued in part 2.