#hospital june 2024

[goldenpinof]

they are the same picture

[northgazaupdates]

27 June 2024

Journalist Sa’ed Al-Zaneen reports that Kamal Adwan Hospital is once again completely out of service after fuel for the power generators ran out, further jeopardizing the lives of thousands of sick and injured patients

[serickswrites]

I Don't Feel So Good

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Clear!" the Paramedic said again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[sunshineandlyrics]

The green room/dressing rooms for the performers at ​AFHF Mexico 2024, 8 June 2024. (Why does just seeing "LT" make me smile?)

[wangxianficrecs]

💙 Picture Perfect by manaika

💙 Picture Perfect

by manaika (@manaika-chan)

M, 22k, Wangxian

Summary: There was this little family. Weathered and broken down to its tiniest parts, but so warm and so good. Oh, so, good. After moving across the country for a fresh start, Lan Zhan meets the most wonderful man with a pre-started family in the form of a teenage son with a streak for naughtiness and penchant for caring. Lan Zhan is prepared to do anything to prove himself worthy of dating the boy's father... If he could only figure out what. Kay's comments: As much as we all love stories where A-Yuan is immediately on-board when it comes to getting a new father, sometimes, the opposite is also fun. In this story, we have single father Wei Wuxian, who stars dating Lan Wangji, but unfortunately, Wei Yuan is not very fond of this development. Will Lan Wangji be able to win over Wei Yuan or will his new relationship with Wei Wuxian crumble before it got really started, because for Wei Wuxian, his son always comes first? Mentions of Past Wei Wuxian/Others, so skip that story, if you're not fond of that, though I highly recommend giving it a go anyways, because it's such a great story. Excerpt: That was the problem. Not that his dad was happy. But how very happy he had become in just a few weeks. Meanwhile, Lan-xiansheng gave nothing away. He was quiet and stoic the way dad could never be. Dad was loud and laughed freely, lived his life in the fast lane, always moving, never still. He was much like a hurricane, like thunder and lightning, a desert storm, a blizzard under the northern lights. In turn, Lan-xiansheng was like a mountain, motionless and quiet, always the same. Wei Yuan understood, on an intellectual level, that to someone like that his dad was novel, new and exciting. He worried what would happen when the excitement faded and 'new' turned into 'old'. People who were such polar opposites never stayed together. And if they did, they were never happy. Wei Yuan wanted his dad not only to be happy, but also stay happy. What Wei Yuan decidedly didn't want was his dad to experience another heartbreak.

pov alternating, modern setting, modern no powers, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, families of choice, getting together, strangers to lovers, family feels, single parent wei wuxian, lan sizhui is a wei, asexual wei wuxian, past wei wuxian/others, platonic relationships, romance, hurt wei wuxian, hospitals, angst with a happy ending, widower wei wuxian, past character death

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

[tildeathiwillwrite]

June of Doom Day 12

"I can't stand seeing you like this." / Dehydration / Grief / Coma

Prompts List | Masterpost

Fandom: Original Work

Words: 500

Tag List: @juneofdoom @fourwingedsnake @whumperofworlds @pigeonwhumps @mr-orion

@scaewolf

CW: hospital room, coma, car crash mention, death mention, worry, mild dehydration, guilt

A/N: here have a slightly fluffy drabble to make up for the last couple days.

------

“…and Sibling’s seeing someone now, I’ve met them, they’re very sweet. Haven’t known them for very long, of course, but I think they’re perfect for each other….” Caretaker trailed off, listening to the beeping of the heart monitor and the hum of the machines keeping Whumpee alive.

They sighed. “Wish you were awake, to meet them yourself.”

Whumpee didn’t respond, of course. They had been in a coma for almost three months following a nearly fatal car crash. The other driver had died upon impact, and Whumpee was barely hanging onto life by a thread when the paramedics arrived. Caretaker remembered the shock of that fateful afternoon when they’d received the phone call. The initial worry had been dampened at first, covered by the need to call Sibling and get to the hospital.

Of course, when they’d arrived and waited several hours during the emergency surgery their fear returned in full force, and it didn’t help when the doctors informed them that Whumpee was in a coma.

Caretaker hated to admit it, but they’d gotten used to Whumpee being in the hospital. Modeled their daily routine for one less person in the household, visited every day, and made mental notes throughout the day of things they wanted to tell Whumpee, even if they couldn’t hear them.

They softly smoothed out a few wrinkles in Whumpee’s bed sheets. “I can’t stand seeing you like this, y’know. Seeing you asleep, vulnerable, completely dead to the world…. I hate it. If there was a way to wake you up, I would go to the ends of the earth just to see your smile again.

“…the doctors warned us that you had a pretty serious head injury to be in a coma like this. If you wake up—no, when you wake up—you might have issues with how your brain works. You might be a completely different person from before the crash.”

Caretaker’s hands curled into fists. “That scares me. Even more than when I thought you were dying. I don’t know why, but it does. We’re not sure if you can even hear me right now, but I want you to know that even if something like that happens, even if it scares me, I won’t abandon you.”

A tear ran down Caretaker’s face, and they quietly brushed it away, becoming aware of the aching in their forehead and behind their eyes. When was the last time they’d had water?

…not since last night, if memory served. The coffee they’d had earlier in the morning didn’t count, no matter what Sibling claimed.

“I should go now,” Caretaker said, glancing at the clock on the wall, “visiting hours are almost over. But I’ll be back tomorrow! And maybe I’ll read another chapter of that book to you.”

They reached out and squeezed Whumpee’s hand before rising from the chair. “See you tomorrow.”

[hummingbird-of-light]

June of Doom 2024 Day 12 (@juneofdoom)

12. “I can’t stand seeing you like this.”       

| Dehydration | Grief | Coma |

~

Montgomery "Scotty" Scott didn't know where he was or how he had gotten to this place. It was a dark and empty place and his body was floating in the center of it. Scotty had no control over what was happening to him. And that made him feel just awful.

All the Scotsman knew was that he was freezing and that he just wanted to sleep. It was really strange because actually, Scotty thought to himself, it felt like his body had been asleep for a long time. But his mind just couldn't rest.

He was incredibly exhausted, but something inside him was vehemently resisting finally switching off his mind.

Scotty wasn't sure exactly what it was. Maybe it was the urge to find out what had happened to him? Maybe he wanted to know where he was? Or perhaps it was the voice that kept coming to his ears, somehow making its way through the darkness.

Scotty knew it. It was incredibly familiar, but he just didn't know who it belonged to.

'Hey, Monty. It's me again.'

It was a warm and soft voice. Scotty found it incredibly pleasant, because it managed to make him feel at least a little more secure and better.

The voice asked him many questions. How he was feeling today. If he was in pain. How much longer he intended to sleep. And the Scotsman would have loved to answer, but his body simply wasn't strong enough for that.

'I ... thought ye might like to hear a few articles about the latest car models. Mum said that it's completely crazy after ... everything that's happened, but I know ye better. Ye are and always will be a car freak.'

Was he? Was Montgomery Scott interested in cars?

A strange shiver went through his body as an image appeared before his inner eye.

He was sitting at the wheel of a car and almost pressing the accelerator pedal to the floor. Wild cries of joy escaped his mouth and he laughed, feeling freer than ever before. Sitting next to him was another person who didn't seem quite as enthusiastic as he was, but was still smiling gently.

'I'll ... just read ye a bit, yeah? A lot has happened in the last few months.'

The warm voice began to read, but with each paragraph it broke more and more until finally only sobbing could be heard. It filled Scotty's heart with sorrow to hear it.

'I'm sorry, Monty. I-I cannae do this. Why was I so stupid? Why didn't I stop ye from taking part in that stupid street race?'

More images appeared in front of Scotty.

He saw the needle on the speedometer rise faster and faster. The feeling of freedom grew bigger and bigger and he screamed with happiness, but suddenly he lost control. There was that tree. And then ... there was nothing.

'Ye're in a coma because I didn't help ye. I cannae stand seeing ye like this. If only I'd seen how bad ye've really been since Dad died. If I had understood that ye were only tuning cars and racing because ye couldn't cope with the situation, I would have–"

The voice. The person who had been in the car with him. It was Robbie. It was Scotty's little brother. The Scotsman's heart broke at this realization. How had he not realized it sooner? How had he not seen that the person visiting him every single day was his poor, wee brother?

'Why the hell don't ye just wake up? I just want to tell ye that ... I'm sorry!'

Robbie. He blamed himself for something that wasn't his fault. He blamed himself for something Scotty had messed up. It just wasn't right. It wasn't fair!

And as hard as it was for him, as much as he longed for sleep and rest, Scotty realized in that moment that he had to keep on fighting. He had to try to wake up. For his brother. No matter how long it took, he wouldn't give up. Never.

[whumperfultime]

June of Doom Day 12

@juneofdoom

Prompts: "I can't stand seeing you like this." | Dehydration | Grief | Coma

Contains: Bedside vigil, whumpee in coma, hospital setting, worry/guilt, mild dehydration, environmental whump, heat whump, heatstroke, and mention of kidnapping/captivity

It's hard for Kalei to care about her own physical needs when Dace is in a coma.

~

They had no way of knowing that the target was aligned with Fen. They didn’t know that his organization had spread to Ezanu or even into the neighboring solar system in the first place.

Not until Dace wound up captured.

Evidently the target was on Fen’s bad side and figured that handing over three of his rivals would mend the relationship. He only managed to grab Dace, snatching him up when he was casing the outside of the mansion they intended to rob. Kalei and Matago stayed behind onboard the ship, preparing some of their supplies for the job.

Neither of them knew much of what happened after that. Just that Dace  was being held in an outbuilding on the property when they found him – some grimy, cramped garage. He could barely speak and whatever he said was the result of delirium. He couldn’t even stand on his own, forcing Matago to do most of the heavy lifting while they brought him to the transport parked behind the building.

Kalei knew heatstroke when she saw it.

Dace passed out on the drive to the nearest hospital. That was two and a half days ago and he still hadn’t woken up. The doctors told her that he was in a coma. Any longer in captivity – in a locked building amidst the desert heat, given little to no food or water – and he might be dead.

If it weren’t for the sounds and glowing screens of the machines monitoring him and keeping him alive, Kalei might have believed he was. He looked so small amongst the wires and tubes. All the strength and energy she knew him for suddenly gone, leaving a pale and too still body behind. She hoped that strength was still in there. That he would have enough to fight his way back to the surface.

Sleeping on the Azaphia probably would have been more comfortable, but Kalei couldn’t bring herself to leave. Not after he’d been alone in that place. Not when he still hadn’t woken up. She couldn’t sleep that much anyway, just relying on brief dozes curled up in the uncomfortable hospital chair.

A quick knock at the doorway jolted her out of her latest attempt at rest. Rather than one of the many doctors and nurses who came in to check up on him, it was Matago. He’d left a couple hours earlier to check on the Azaphia – it always felt risky to leave her unattended. Even more now that an interplanetary crime lord likely knew they were on Ezanu.

“Sorry to wake you,” Matago whispered. Then he caught himself, remembering that he didn’t have to be so quiet. That Dace wasn’t just sleeping and couldn’t be woken up so easily. “Any developments while I was gone?”

Kalei shook her head. “Same as always.”

Dace’s primary doctor seemed to be optimistic despite the lack of changes. She wasn’t sure if he was being genuine or just trying to keep their spirits up, but she clung to the sliver of hope anyway. At least his condition hadn’t worsened.

Matago pulled up a chair of his own, slinging his backpack onto the floor. “Guess he could use the extra beauty sleep.”

Normally Kalei would have shot him a glare for the ill-timed joke, but she knew it was one of the things he used to cope. (Besides, Dace would probably laugh if he heard it.) Instead, she hugged her knees to her chest and stared at Dace’s unchanging expression. She could feel Matago’s gaze lingering on her.

“How are you holding up?” he finally asked.

Kalei shrugged, trying to muster up the energy to give an actual response. “Mentally feel like shit. Also physically feel like shit.”

“When was the last time you ate?”

She couldn’t help but roll her eyes. Clearly she was not the one who should be warranting concern in this situation. “When we ate breakfast together this morning. You saw me.”

“What about the last time you drank?”

That was…admittedly harder for her to answer. “I had a few sips of tea then, too. Couldn’t finish it because the tea here is gross.”

“I meant water.”

Now she found herself avoiding looking at him altogether. “I don’t know,” she mumbled. “Sometime yesterday.”

“Oh for the love of-” Matago sighed, bending down and rustling through his bag. He retrieved a full plastic water bottle, slick with condensation after being removed from the Azaphia’s fridge, and shoved it in her direction. “I can’t stand seeing you like this. Drink, woman.”

“I’m fine.”

“You are clearly not. You are dehydrating as we speak.”

Kalei wanted to argue. To snap at him from taking the focus away from Dace, who was in actual danger, and putting it on her, the one who had just barely found him before he was too far gone to save. But the protest died in her throat…which was uncomfortably dry.

If she were being honest, she knew Matago was right. She recognized it overnight when she couldn’t sleep. Those quiet moments were when she allowed herself to cry over the situation, only last night it felt as if her body had no tears to give. Plus there were the times she got up to stretch her legs – Dace’s room in the ICU was cool, but in other parts of the hospital where she walked, the air conditioning did less to ease the desert heat. Which meant more sweat. And now that she was both awake and not spiralling over Dace’s condition, an evergrowing pain in her head finally registered.

She took the bottle without a word, too tired to argue anymore. Matago didn’t stop staring at her until she took her first sip…which turned to her chugging half the bottle once the cold water hit her tongue.

“That’s better,” said Matago, sitting back. “Just don’t drink so fast you get sick.”

Kalei managed a small smile. “You want me to hydrate or not? Make up your mind.”

“You know what I mean, you fucking smartass.”

She took another sip, feeling lighter if only for a moment.

Both of them turned their attention back to Dace…and found his eyes beginning to open.

[mouseparker]

nicotine gum... save me nicotine gum....

[collincountymagazine]

Victims identified in McKinney TX plane crash (Updated)

By Brian Bearden The Texas Department of Public Safety has confirmed the name of the plane crash in McKinney, Texas. Two men were killed and a third was critically injured when a twin-engine plane registered to Hunger Relief Ministries of Forney, Texas, crashed at a construction site in McKinney, Texas, Thursday, June 27. The pilot of the Cessna 414A has been identified by Texas DPS as…

[jobskenyaplace]

PRE-QUALIFICATION OF SUPPLIERS FOR THE YEAR JULY 2024/2025 - VALLEY HOSPITAL

VALLEY HOSPITAL TENDER JUNE 2024   PRE-QUALIFICATION OF SUPPLIERS-2024/2025 Valley Hospital Nakuru invites interested and eligible suppliers to apply for pre-qualification of suppliers for the year July 2024 – July 2025, indicating the category of goods and services as they wish to supply. Existing suppliers who wish to be retained must also re-apply and submit the information requested in the…

[goldenpinof]

via danielhowell's stories, 11/07/2024

[northgazaupdates]

21 June 2024

Journalist Anas Al-Sharif documents the arrival of medical teams to Kamal Adwan and Al-Awda Hospitals in north Gaza. They will provide assistance to the overworked, traumatized, and exhausted medical staff and volunteers.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by أنس جمال الشريف (@anasjamal44)

[serickswrites]

I Should Have Listened

Warnings: blood, injury, unclear character status, hospital, gunshot, gunshot wound

"I should have listened to you," Smallest Teammate said softly to the empty backseat. "You tried to warn me, but I didn't listen."

They hadn't moved since the medical team had pulled Team Leader from their lap in the back of Teammate One's car. Hadn't moved since Teammate Two had hurried after the team giving a quick history of Team Leader's injuries. Hadn't moved because they couldn't move.

Guilt consumed Smallest Teammate. Guilt over failing to follow Team Leader's orders and be wary of Whumper. Guilt over failing to listen to Team Leader's warning cries. Guilt over failing to find cover during the gunfight. And guilt over Team Leader being shot for them.

Blood coated Smallest Teammate's hands. Team Leader's blood. The blood Smallest Teammate had failed to keep inside Team Leader as they bled out in the back of Teammate One's car.

"I'm really sorry, Team Leader," Smallest Teammate said as a lone tear slipped down their cheek. "Please, please be ok. So I can spend the rest of my life making it up to you. Please. I should have listened. I should have known better. I'm sorry. Please."

[baiabazadze]

Call for abstract !! Submit your paper/abstract/case study and get a chance to meet our experts at the CME/CPD/CE accredited 15th American Healthcare, Hospital Management, Nursing, And Patient Safety Summit from May 14-16-27, 2025, at San Francisco, United States Abstract Submission Deadline is June 15th, 2024 Submit your abstract now: https://health.universeconferences.com/submit-abstract/

[ejaydoeshisbest]

How deformed must I be and how frequently should I experience chronic pain to qualify for some small consideration in everyday life?

Went to the orthopedic. Didn’t appreciate how they delivered the next step for managing my scoliosis. Like, eff, I’m sorry that I was an impoverished corporate slave living in a third-world country and don’t have the financial resources or the time to monitor my curve progression. Freaking arrogant swine.

And they sounded so smug and dismissive when I asked if I was eligible for a PWD ID as if I had no right to. Like it was a bother that I was asking for their signature. I felt like a pauper begging for gold.

“Oh, is that what you want?” the doc said, brow arched.

It made me feel smaller than I already am. How deformed must I be and how frequently should I experience chronic pain to qualify for some small consideration in everyday life?

Also stung hearing the weighted confirmation that there truly is nothing to be done but watch my body slowly twist even more grotesquely as I get old. Nothing we can do but try not to feel ugly and stay fit as I decline each year. Better get to mountain climbing and travel while I still can.

I grit my teeth and dig my knuckles into my back, trying to chase away the strain. I wince as I brace myself for the daily brutal commute, standing for hours, hips and back screaming for mercy, stuck in traffic.

Words: Ejay Diwas