#it was a little worse monday so i went to urgent care and they wanted me to get a ct scan but couldn't get me in anywhere until wednesday
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guess who got to go to the ER last night?
#dryad speaks#to get y'all up to speed i stated having some minor pain last week which i just assumed was pre period pain#it got a little more naggy up to my birthday but was more w/e#AND THE SUNDAY walking and sitting normally hurt#it was a little worse monday so i went to urgent care and they wanted me to get a ct scan but couldn't get me in anywhere until wednesday#literally 20 minutes after my scan yesterday the doctor calls and is like#'you have an abscess! we really think you should go to the ER asap.'#so here we are#they kept me overnight because of the infection but afaik i get to go home today#fucking wildest post birthday anything i've ever had lol
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Gave myself almost-pneumonia and my couch looks like a damn stock photo.
Since the whole time Iâve been like, âAm I living one of my shitty fanfictions? Coz this sucks.â Let me tell yâall a story.
Cold weather sucks as a severe asthmatic. I moved to the South so I didnât have to deal with the frigid winters of upstate NY. Iâm basically on and off sick until Spring comes (and then thereâs allergy season but I digress). I think itâs helped some, but my lungs are just fucked up ok?
Anyways I went to a concert last Saturday and it was freezing. Then I went to the zoo on Sunday with a friend and it was also cold and swarming with kids who donât know how to cover their mouths when they cough. It was a great weekend but by Tuesday I was sick - great. I had some warning bc my friend I went to the zoo with said they got sick yesterday. But it just seemed like a minor cold and Iâve been through this a million times, I truly did not think it was gonna get too much worse. My asthma was mostly under control and I rested a lot all week.
Thursday Iâm more tired, but I start nebulizer treatments and even skip ice skating class and reschedule it for Saturday bc hey, Iâm responsible. But Friday I start to feel worse. Like to the point where everybody at work is like wtf go home and one of them told me sheâs gonna get me holy water. But itâs okay, itâs still been SO much worse and Iâm really fine.
Saturday morning I wake up and I feel like Iâm cured. So I go to ice skating class. And maybe I take a little walk in the rain. Bad fuckin idea. By the end of the day Iâm having full blown asthma attacks one after the other and sweating like crazy. My abdomen is aching from coughing so much that it hurts to sit up. But I really donât want to go to the ER. Not again. So I message my pulmonologist and hope I can just say never mind Iâm good now by the time he answers on Monday.
That brings us to today, Sunday. I woke up at 6am after only 4 hours of sleep because I canât stop choking. Iâm sneezing and coughing up fluorescent green stuff, my throat tastes like blood and I have a fever. I really, really didnât want to go to the doctor but itâs time. I drag my sorry ass to urgent care where the entire hour I sit in waiting, everybody who walks by gives me a âgoddamnâ look because Iâm coughing loud enough to alert the entire damn office. Iâm so embarrassed bc what if they think Iâm being dramatic and wasting time - again? I awkwardly explain my situation and the doctor sends me for CXR. When it comes back he says âWell, you donât have pneumonia yet but see alllll this stuff here? Thatâs inflammation. Iâm gonna prescribe antibiotics and (way heavier) steroids and you might have bronchitis already but your asthma is so bad that itâs indistinguishable by now. Also with your lungs you probably wonât be able to tell you have pneumonia until itâs pretty bad.â
So anyways, thatâs my week. At least I got a lot of writing done for Whumptober - didnât have to dig very deep to find enough misery to go around to all my fav OCs lol.
#self obs#taken before I got a 10x higher dose of steroids and also antibiotics#brought to you by ~asthma~#almost pneumonia bc the doc said I probably have bronchitis but my asthma is so bad theyâre indistinguishable at this point#CXR questionable#so thatâs fun#anyways itâd be hot if it wasnât me so here ya go#sicknario#snzario#snz#snzblr#snz kink#snzfucker#flu whump#illness whump#asthma#coughing
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went to urgent care doctor today bc been super bad fatigued to the point i can barely care for myself for like a week to ten days now, was there for a little over 2hr. clear on covid but they wanted a blood test & couldn't find my fucken veins even after exploratory poke so they kinda shrugged & said "here's a referral to quest labs on monday hope u feel better"
so i'm ??? still so fucken tired & i still feel like i'm fixin to fall down dead after doin anything that ain't lyin down & i gotta wait to monday to even Start figurin anything out & i wanna cry & scream until my throat bleeds & everything sets on fire but i can't & for some reason that makes it all worse
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Jim and I didn't get along particularly well at work. It's not that I have problems with all the techs - I don't - it was that there was a kind of paternal attitude he gave off that sort of clashed between our personalities. His desire to be liked by me didn't help - he texted me photos of his ear piercings and showed me first when he dyed his hair. He was a kind, somewhat annoying middle-aged man who I didn't particularly want to talk to who wanted very badly to be cool and to get the approval of the youngest person in the office.
We just didn't have a lot in common. That changed in February 2019 when my spouse had a massive heart attack and was hospitalized. I wasn't even there when he went to the hospital; I was at work, getting ready to do a Monday Metal Mayhem show with my band in Hollywood.
My spouse - Large Bastard - had been getting pretty ill pretty frequently. We thought it was anxiety from dealing with his mother after a rapid one-two punch of my mother and his father dying. We were trying to accommodate her peculiarities - suddenly insisting that all the furniture in the house be moved, demanding that his father be interred at a cemetery close to her home instead of the one his parents are buried in - and thought that the stress of managing her in her grief was manifesting as panic attacks. It wasn't. It was heart failure.
So he was at home with his mother, and just two days before he'd had chest pains and we had gone for a drive and they'd gone away. "If it was serious, if it was a heart attack, it wouldn't calm down with a relaxing drive." So when he called me an hour before the end of work to say "hey, I'm not feeling great, my chest is hurting again" I asked him if he wanted me to come home instead of going to my show. He said "nah, don't worry about it. If it gets worse I'll go to urgent care."
He called me next from the hospital; I had put on my black lipstick and my fishnets for the show and was getting ready to pick up our drummer. They were sending him to a different hospital, one that could do bypass surgeries.
I don't remember much of my drive to the hospital, if I'm being honest. I got there quicker than the LA rush hour traffic should have allowed, and I went into the ER waiting room shaking from head to toe. Large Bastard was moving and joking; they'd given him morphine for the pain and were going to take him back to have an angiogram to see how bad the blockages in his heart were.
100% in three arteries and 95% in the other. He wasn't just sick, he was dying. His mother left the hospital, trying to bring in a priest to perform the anointing of the sick. I stayed, sitting in the ICU and talking to his nurse, who let me know that she thought they shouldn't wait for morning for surgery. I fell asleep in the chair holding his hand.
I left at shift change to get some food and fresh clothes, and when I came back I was shocked to find them prepping him for surgery - his mother was listed as the emergency contact for his insurance, not me, so nobody had called to tell me that he'd been bumped up on the schedule because of the severity of his illness. They were shaving his chest and putting a cap on his hair as they had him sign consent forms. He turned one over and scribbled something on the back before he handed it to me - it was the passphrase for his password manager.
We've done that a few times since then - when Large Bastard was admitted to the hospital with worsening heart failure in May of 2020, when he was being taken back for his heart transplant in March of 2021 - it's become a grim, loving little shorthand for us. He hands me a card that has his current passphrase written on it. It says a few cryptic words, but it also says: I love you, I'm scared, If I don't wake up here's what you'll need that I won't be there to give you.
Large Bastard spent nine days unconscious after his bypass, and a further two days after that in the hospital before he started a long, difficult road to recovery. And by a funny coincidence, so did someone else: Jim's wife.
Jim, twenty years older than me, was going through the same thing at the same time. His wife had a heart attack and ended up being at the same hospital as Large Bastard - the two of them ended up meeting in Cardiac Rehab and chatting about their spouses and the terrible office the worked for.
It was a nice little connection, and it made it easier for me to get along with Jim at work. We could commiserate about trying to cook tasty low-sodium food and how hard it was to get appointments; we could bitch about copays and talk about scars.
I started to kind of like Jim, even as he became more and more frustrating at the office. His work was kind of slipping, partially because of the time he dedicated to caring for his wife that would call him out suddenly for days. I was sympathetic - I had to drop work and go to appointments or the ER sometimes too.
But things kept getting worse and worse with Jim at the office. He'd be instructed on how to do a particular task one day, write up notes on it, and three days later wouldn't know how to accomplish the task. He must have been given a refresher on configuring DNS something like twenty times, and you never knew from one day to the next if he'd know how to do a task he'd been perfectly competent at a week before.
Eventually it started to get really nasty - Jim was fighting with our manager and the company president, his clients (including one of our biggest customers) were unhappy with his work and the way things never seemed to get done. Things were coming to a head and everyone could see the writing on the wall. Jim was going to get fired.
And I felt bad - I'd bonded with him, I knew he was a nice guy with a lot of rough stuff going on at home. Thankfully, the expected explosion never happened. Jim found something else, and he quit. He'd been looking for a while, tired of fighting with his managers.
And that's when we found out what an utter, lying piece of shit he was.
Look, I'm a big believer in lying on your resume and faking it until you make it, but I can't condone doing so in a way that puts your entire company - and the livelihoods of everyone who works there - at risk.
Jim hadn't just been forgetful about procedures and unpredictable with his schedule - he'd been faking all of the work he'd done for the last six months. The only reason the entire house of cards hadn't come tumbling down was because other techs had been filling in for him when he was out unexpectedly. Our big customer hadn't had a backup done in a year. Their servers hadn't been patched in months. They were unhappy with his work because he hadn't actually been doing any of the work that a level-3 tech should have been doing - he was unfailingly kind and polite while doing desktop support, which meant that the customer's employees loved him, but he'd been allowing their infrastructure to crumble around his ears.
And then we logged into their vault in our enterprise password manager.
Now, this company had had passwords set up by the best tech we ever lost; she is a good friend of mine and I adore her. She got the job the same way that I did: a referral through the infosec community that we're both a part of. So I know she knew security. I know shit was locked down on that account when she left.
When Jim left, we discovered that he'd changed every password he touched at this customer - our largest customer, both in terms of hours billed and in terms of users, with four locations nationwide and server setups we'd done in pennsylvania and texas - to "password."
Firewalls, servers, email addresses - it was all the same. "password," "password," "password," "password," no numbers, no special characters, no capital letters even. Just. The easiest possible thing to crack.
As soon as we realized that literally everyone in the company dropped everything else to do a furious behind-the-scenes audit of Jim's work. A new lead was assigned to that account and he's great at it, and we went through and fixed everything else that Jim broke. And I mean, I guess more power to you if you can fake your work for that long and still pull a paycheck to care for your spouse, but fuck you Jim because that lawsuit would have killed the business and meant the end of the income and insurance that I rely on to care for *my* spouse.
And this is just one example of why you should be exceptionally cautious about who you share your passwords with and when you share them. It's intensely personal and can do a ridiculous amount of damage if your password manager is compromised, which is why I'm going to show you how to set up your own personal, private, secure Bitwarden Password Manager so that you never have to worry about the Jims in your life.
Tech how-to article written like a recipe. Is that anything? Fuck it.
Old-Fashioned Setting Up a Password Manager
For this project you will need:
One computer
One full-featured browser
One pre-made email account, not shared and logged-in
2-5 possible passwords
5-10 accounts to get started with storing passwords.
Before you begin pre-load your computer, logging in to your email account. You can save later prep time by having your primary social media accounts, banking information, email account, and online bills ready to hand.
Go to bitwarden.com and select "create account"; be sure to select "free account" - you can jazz it up later but we're learning the basics now.
Create the account using your primary email address as the login name and one long (but not complicated!) password that you are certain you can remember but is not widely shared online. This is a great way to use information about your favorite movies or songs, not a great place for your kid's or pet's names.
Set up your password hint with a good reminder; be sure to note any punctuation you added, for instance a comma to separate lines of a song or an exclamation point between words of a movie title.
Verify your email account with the password manager, then set up a new password for your email. You may need a phone or access to your extant 2FA tools for this step. Create a login in the password manager, add your email address, and generate a new password, then save the entry. Go to your email account, select "security" and "change password" - enter your old password to confirm then paste your new password manager generated password into the provided text boxes, and save. Log out of your email account, then log back in with your new password. You will need to do this on all of your devices, so make sure you're using a password manager that is accessible across platforms - Bitwarden is recommended for a reason, this is a place where you don't want to skimp when making substitutions!
Repeat the process of resetting passwords to taste; you don't need to do everything all at once, but it's best to start with a serving of 5-8 to get used to the process.
Time: 30min to 2hr DOE Expense: Literally Free Value: Priceless i never have to remember a fucking password again and now neither do you.
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[tw: blood / gore - clearly marked sections]
I got the attic storage space completed before the end of year two of the project. I need to move things from the basement to the attic, to make room for the new CNC Mill. The new machine arrived on Tuesday, just after I finished in the attic. I assembled that yesterday, and now I need to tune and to calibrate it.
[this part (one paragraph) may be a little disturbing because my kitty has cancer]
Everything is slowed because I have to give my little kitty tummy rubs. Her tumor is now visible on her left side and can be felt on either side. But she still gets around and has good and bad days for eating. I try to be available when she needs me.
--
[this part (the next three paragraphs) is very likely disturbing and a bit gory]
On Sunday, as I was installing the attic ladder, the spring-arm that helps to lift the ladder into the attic slipped and my head was in the way. It was not especially painful after the initial shock. I did not lose consciousness and I was not sick, dizzy, or confused after, but the amount of blood was so ridiculous. I got cleaned up and dressed the inch-long cut on my temple, then I went back to work in the attic. (Not be gratuitously gory, I did leave out a bit.)
Tuesday night, as I was changing the bandage, I noticed some redness around my eye. By Wednesday morning, yesterday, I had a bright red ring around my eye. I got in touch with my doctorâs office and they wanted me to go to urgent care for x-rays. At urgent care, they explained that x-rays do not show enough, and that even if they did detect a minor fracture, there is nothing they could do for it anyway. They did poke and prod to be sure there was no cause for worry and said it is a good bet that I do have a fracture. They explained that it is not unusual for a head wound to take a couple of days to find its way to an eye. They also told me that it should continue to get worse until the weekend, and then it should start slowly getting better.
Today I had sort of a cats-eye effect with a neat little sweep on the outside corner of my eye. The whole eye socket has been puffy. I cannot wait to see what is in store for tomorrow.
--
[all is clear as far as the goriness goes]
I shut down within seconds of seeing the first gory indication that this was more than just a bump on the head. My partner is not good with emergencies, so I was co-con while the unfused part took over.
We mostly went back to our usual roles in the system on Monday and Tuesday, but Wednesday was difficult again. I think we are still mostly co-con again.
Being co-con during projects is nice. Being co-con during emergencies is uncomfortable. I would not change the arrangement because the unfused part is better at this stuff than I am. But it is uncomfortable.
It is possible that it would be more uncomfortable without the unfused part, since they appear to have a greater tolerance for pain than I. And now it makes sense why it hurt only briefly.
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ease into it (pt. 4) - wanda maximoff
a/n: thank you for all the new followers, 500 to almost 700 in just a few days is crazy! thank you all for the love𫶠also sorry this one is a little short, next one will be way longer
Story Masterlist
It had been a few weeks later when your pain had gotten worse.Â
You spent Fridays and Mondays tutoring Wanda in several subjects, and despite Jenniferâs worries, you assured her you only had eyes for her. The project was making progress, you were able to wrangle everyone, even Wanda and Jean into the theater to practice.Â
Wanda wasnât half bad at acting, considering sheâs never done it before.
âOkay...And who are you?â Sam read. âHold on! Emotion, Sam! Be emotional? Please.â You beg, making the boy chuckle. Wanda smiled to herself watching you direct. âOkay! Uh...take ten, Wanda...â The girl looks back down at her script before you can catch her staring.Â
She looks back up as if she wasnât paying attention, and you give her a small smile. âCome on.â You nod your head over to the stage, making her follow you as you walked up the stairs.
âOkay, Scene 2!â You clap your hands together, making Wanda nod. You grab a chair, carrying it to the middle of the stage. Wanda sits, looking down as you excitedly run behind the curtain.
She smiles to herself when quietly ask Darcy to slap you, and she does so lightly. You turn back to Wanda, and walk on stage, getting in character.
You pretend to look around, and Wanda looks at her script, before looking at you. âYou can have my seat.â She blurts out, and you look over at her strangely. âBut where are you gonna sit?â Her eyes widen. âUm...Iâll stand.â She nods, and you frown sitting down.Â
âAre you okay?â
âWhat?â
âI donât know, youâve been acting weird lately. I get you wanna be friends, but your boyfriend told me to back off, and I donât wanna cause a-â
âOh! You wonât, heâs very understanding when he-â She looks back down at the paper. âWhen he wants to be.â She smiles when you give her a low thumbs up at your side. She was excited when you took the high road, and tried to warm up to her. Despite her leeches wanting you ice you out, you still were on her mind. âOkayâŠwellâŠthanks for the seat.â
âTotally.â Thereâs an awkward silence, making Sam snort. You start to act like Wanda is giving a voice over, and you canât hear it. âI am totally in love with her, itâs insane. My boyfriend hates her, but thatâs okay, I think. If I keep being nice than maybe sheâll like me back? Hopefully.â
Before she could continue the monologue, which you could not actually tell wasnât written in it since you didnât have a script, the bell rang. She sighs as the other three pack up their bags, and head towards lunch.
Youâd gotten the keys to the booth, and shut down the spotlight, before walking to the theatre teacher, Loki. âThank you very much, child.â He sends you off, and as you round the corner, you jump at Wanda whoâs is standing behind the wall.
âGod, you scared me. Are you-Were you waiting for me, or?â Yes. âNo, I actually was waiting for Vision.â Why are you lying to her, idiot?
âGood job in there, Iâm glad youâre actually working.â Wanda scoffs. âWhatever.â She mutters, wondering why she got so defensive. Your frown, mad her sad, as youâd assumed you made progress, but it seems like that didnât happen. âOkay. Well, Iâll see you tomorrow. Donât be late for tutoring.â
You spot Jennifer down the hallway, running towards her with a smile. âShitâŠâ Wanda mutters, burying her face in her hands.
âââ
âSo how long do you suggest she stay home?â Your godmother, May Parker, asked the doctor you went to. She agreed to come along as your mom was stuck at work. Peter stayed home with your sisters, and May took you to the urgent care because of your increasing back pain.Â
âI suggest she not lift anything at all for two weeks, let your bones heal.â The doctor says, making you sigh in relief. You loved soccer, but not having to go to practice was fine.
âOk, thank you so much, doctor.â The two of you had left the hospital, May urging you to let her drive your car. âSoâŠI heard from your mom, youâre finally dating that Jennifer girl.â The woman practically squeals as you roll your eyes.
âMaaaay.â You whine. âLook! I donât judge, girly. Your mom showed me some pictures, and-â When she notices your look of disbelief, she stops. âNever mind.â The rest of the ride was quiet, and the next day after doubling up on pain medicine, you were healthy enough to play your first game.Â
You would of course tell Fury about the doctorâs note after, but for now you were fine. Monica had offered to ride some of the team, and as new team manager, obviously to hang with you, Jennifer tagged along.Â
When you arrived, Jennifer had to pull you away so that you wouldnât help taking out the practice gear. You made it to the field as the captain from St. Valkyries approached. âY/LN!â Carol Danvers yelled, walking over to where you and Monica were practicing drills.Â
âDanvers.â You mutter with a bite, your back still turned to her. âRambeau.â She smiles, making Monica roll her eyes. âHowâs your mom?â She asks.Â
âKill yourself.â
âWoah! Touchy. You guys ready to lose your first game of the year?â The last game youâd played, you sprained your knee, and had to be pulled out because you couldnât run. Unfortunately, it still bothered you because youâd broken something else just months before, and you couldnât afford to treat it.Â
âYou ready to go 6-0 in our little series again?â You smirk, turning towards her. Carol scoffs, getting in your face. âYeah. Well, you forget the time you were out, and we won...twice.â You scoff, closing the relatively small gap in between you. âWell...Iâm back. So you better hope I donât wipe the floor with you today.âÂ
Carol simply smiles, dusting off your shoulder that were covered by your Xavier Soccer hoodie. âDonât break a knee, Y/N.â She pats you lightly, and walks over to her team stretching. Once she was out of earshot, large hands were placed on your shoulders.Â
You jump slightly but are less tense when you realize who it is. âHow is my favorite soccer player?â She asks with a smirk. âPerfect because youâre here.â You two share a kiss, but a familiar whistle tons makes you groan in annoyance.
âBye, bye.â You peck her on the lips, rubbing onto to field where Fury stands.
âââ
Taglist:
@mymommawandaâ @dumbassbitchwithnotits @nightimemommy @sheriffhaughtearp @sadpiscesheart @geico-insuranc @goodnessgaycious @lainjupi @natashasnoodle @idk-what-i-stan
#wanda x you#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff#wanda x y/n#wanda maximoff au#marvel#elizabeth olsen x reader#elizabeth olsen
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hello i'm still alive, still recuperating.
i started to having a sore throat on sunday, july 10. this was how my covid during the december 2021 omicron wave started too. but since i already had covid, i didn't think anything of it.
i kept going to work like normal, eating cough drops. i got a pcr and rapid test from a tent outside work on monday, july 11 and it came back negative, i felt relieved. okay, maybe this is just a bad sore throat. by tuesday, july 12 i had a runny nose.
i woke up with chest pain that progressively got worse on wednesday, july 13. i also always have intermittent chest pain (like my whole life) so i didn't think much of it. i start to develop a cough on this day too. after work, i get another pcr and rapid test at a tent. i decide to go to urgent care for chest pain so i walk like 15 minutes to a citymd. by the time i get to citymd, i have my rapid test results, it says negative. i go in and explain my symptoms, i show the medical assistant my negative covid results from the tent test i took not even 1 hour ago. he seems chill about it, gives me a covid test just because and says he will do the strep test after.
(i get the PCR tent test from july 13 back the next day and that one comes back positive)
after 15 minutes he comes back and looks at my covid test and says "oh no you're positive" and he promptly leaves the appointment room and says a doctor will come see me. i am like super confused at this point but also this is familiar to me since this is exactly how my omicron covid diagnosis happened where my test at pharmacy/tents were all negative and i only got positive tests at urgent care.
the doctor comes in, he asks about my symptoms, when was the onset, what vaccines i have (all 3 moderna) and my prior medical history. i talk about my congential heart defects and he says he will give me paxlovid since i'm high risk and he implores me to make an appointment with a cardiologist. he tells me to watch for worsening symptoms especially fever or shortness of breath.
then the real nightmare begins. at this point, i am in midtown manhattan. i tell them to send the rx to the rite aid by my jackson heights apt since it's really close and all i wanna do is take the meds and sleep. i take the 7 train back home. i walk to the rite aid and they say they don't carry paxlovid. i'm confused. the pharmacist calls like 3 other rite aids in the area. no paxlovid - why no paxlovid in a densely populated neighbourhood with low income working class immigrants ?? the only other rite aid i can think of is the one by my ridgewood apartment. so i tell them to call and ofc they have it there. so then i have to go all the way back to ridgewood - i had to take 3 trains. i fetch the paxlovid and then i commute back to jackson heights. by this time, it's like after 20h - it literally took me over 5 hours to get the medicine i need. apparently you can search at pharmacy's websites to see what medicines they have in stock but the last stock date was 2 or 3 days before so who knows if they still had the medicine by then. how does this work ?
anyway, i didn't want to take chances and i had to do stuff at my old ridgewood apartment anyway. i take the paxlovid and am confused by the bitter metallic taste in my mouth. i learn about paxlovid mouth for the first time. it's major yucks but i'm still super grateful to have access to it even though i nearly passed out commuting to get this medicine.
i've been quarantining at home by myself. we have overlapping leases btwn the ridgewood place and this jackson heights place so the moment i texted my roommate i tested positive, she went to the ridgewood place. i haven't seen her in 5 days. CDC says 5 days quarantine but my job wants 10 days and a negative PCR test for my entry pass to be activated again and i can return. i have two at home covid test, i wonder if i should test a little before the 10 days or just wait. i think the paxlovid stopped my symptoms from progressing to something worse but it doesn't feel like it shortened the duration of my symptoms. omicron covid gave me really painful body aches and fever - this time i don't have either of those but my throat feels like i'm swallowing glass, i have a gross-sounding cough, nasal congestion and migraines. i have a high tolerance for heat (grew up in sg at the equator) but it doesn't help to live in a 5th floor walk up in the middle of summer with no ac. i think that contributed to my migranes. i haven't put up curtains in my room so once the sun's up my room would get unrelenting direct sunlight and i felt like i was being boiled alive. i'm also extremely fatigued. every time i got up to walk down the hallway, it felt like i was a hot air balloon that had been shot down and was slowly deflating and descending from the sky. my heartrate is consistently over 100 with the highest being like 130.
anyway can't believe i'm only half way through quarantine - i haven't seen anyone else in a week. i wake up and it takes me awhile to rmbr what day it is. i feel like my brain fog is very bad - this doesn't bode well for all the reading/learning i meant to do over the summer to prepare for year 2 of grad school.
on the plus side this is the last day of taking paxlovid - itâs been so disgusting tt Iâve barely been able to eat anything without instinctively retching right after. I did see this article where someone claimed cinnamon candy helped them - itâs too late for me but maybe someone else might find this helpful
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NaClYoHo Days 3-8
So the day after all this (10/4), I was feeling a bit better so I tried to patch up some scratches on the leather couch (...mixed results) and spent some time weeding the garden before going to the church flea market.
Saturday I felt ok in the morning but worse and worse all day, so Sunday I went to urgent care myself and got antibiotics and cough syrup. That stuff knocks you out so I slept a good chunk of the day. I'm not counting it toward the tally, but Husband cleaned out the car while the kids played.
Monday and Tuesday were basically, eat breakfast, take my cough medicine, wake up for lunch, get the kids from school.
Wednesday the in-laws came over so I had to clean for them. I'm counting that.
Thursday Husband had some work thing or other so I took the kids to McDonalds for dinner and then Michaels to get some posterboard for 8yo's school project.
Friday was rough, we went to 4yo's Scholastic Book Fair then bought some birthday presents for both Grandpas. But the kids were so whiney that we came home before I did everything I wanted and made them take naps before Cub Scouts.
Somewhere in there, couldn't tell you what day, I also went through 4yo's bookshelf and weeded out a bunch of books he doesn't read anymore. Those are one the shelf for when I do my long walk that takes me past 3 (!) Little Free Libraries. (edit: apparently I did this on day 1!)
Saturday was FIL's birthday party, Sunday we went to the farm for pumpkin picking and other fall festival fun, which brings us back to this week.
We barely did anything on Indiginous People's Day, and then I started feeling sicker, so Tuesday was a dud of a day. In-laws came over yesterday, so cleaning up for them counts, but today...
Well, I picked up Husband's shirts from the cleaners and replaced the batteries in the smoke alarm, so hell, it counts. And the day isn't over!
NaClYoHo Day 2
So yesterday 4yo got sent home because he coughed so hard he threw up. And of course I'm sick too (and 8yo isn't feeling great).
So yesterday afternoon we were mostly lazy, and then when Husband got home he took 4yo to pediatric urgent care (the regular pediatrician wasn't answering the phone, probably because of the holidays).
So the poor thing got a shot of steroids in the ass for his croupy cough (they tried oral but he threw it up) and a prescription for antibiotics for an ear infection we had no idea he had (he insists his ear feels fine).
Despite all this, the grandparents still want to take the kids for the long weekend (I think MIL prefers being in charge of his medicine rather than trusting me, and in this case, she's welcome to it).
So!
Today I packed up for the kids, then cleaned up the first floor of the house. After lunch, a phone call with my mom, and a nap, I tackled the dining room hutch. It wasn't a particularly large job, just an annoying and very dusty one, so perfect for such a low-energy day.
Is my brain wasting its executive function on trying to work through a fog of virus?
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Summary:
The memories froze him. He didn't realize that Obi-Wan was calling his name, increasingly urgent, or that the water had reached his hips. It was cold, not as cold as it had been back on Kamino, but still just above freezing. He could almost imagine the crimson light of the clock, the sneering face of the trainer. The trainer hadn't been inherently cruel, but years of torturing little boys did something to the psyche.
So Cody suspected, at least.
Finally, a cry of "Cody!" woke him from his reverie. Obi-Wan was sobbing on the other side of the chamber, in a way Cody have never seen him cry, hand gripping his hair tightly enough to stretch the skin above his ear.
The water was up to his chest now, and rising fast, and the panic was still tight in his chest, but he made himself look Obi-Wan in the eyes. Before he did though, he caught his own gaze. His face was smooth in the crystal, no scar marring his temple. He absently wondered how anyone would be able to tell who he was, stuck in a child's body with no scar.
Notes:
Everyone shut up, I was supposed to post this last night, but I fell asleep. I am aware that it's Monday. Don't want to hear it.
This is my fourth and final submission for Codywan Week 2021! I really tried to do all seven days, but for my first ever event like this, I don't think I did too bad.
Prompt is an alt, Sith/Jedi Artifact Shenanigans.
"Um, commander?"
"What, Waxer?" Cody said irritably, blinking sleep out of his eyes. Day three in the remains of this stupid temple, and Cody, General Kenobi, Waxer, Boil, and six shinies, all yet to be named, had been grating on each other's nerves nonstop.
"You might want to... um... check in a mirror."
"Lieutenant, unless you have a mirror with you, that's not gonna happen."
"I just, um. Hold on. I'll take a picture, send it to your HUD."
Seconds later, said picture showed up in front of Cody's eyes. "Oh, Force."
A sleepy voice from the back of the room piped up. "Force what?"
Cody removed his helmet and shared a look with Waxer. That was not a brother, but it didn't quite sound like the General either, meaning....
"Hey, General, you might wanna come over here." Waxer shrugged at Cody as he called out. Sure enough, the figure making it's way over to them was not the General, or, at least, not the General they were used to. He looked like a cadet.
Well, so did Cody, so who was he to judge?
"Oh, Cody!" Obi-Wan exclaimed once he noticed the commander's state. He didn't seem to be able to stop the smile pulling at his mouth.
"Ah-ah, speak for yourself, General."
Obi-wan squinted down at his robes, which were the same as the ones he went to sleep in. He was drowning in them, looking only slightly less ridiculous than Cody did in his oversized armor. "Well, this is unfortunate."
Boil snorted. "Maybe one of you is small enough to fit through that hole now.
The General lit up. "Brilliant, Boil. Someone boost me up."
Boil snorted again, but followed him to the far wall. It had been pretty destroyed in the explosion, though still pretty effective in keeping the ten of them trapped. But maybe, now that Cody and Obi-Wan were smaller...
"Wait, wait, we aren't going to address the fact that we areâ small? What caused it?"
Obi-Wan's lips quirked up in a smile, and Cody noticed how much more expressive he was when clean-shaven. "Well, I suspect it was caused by the artifact that also triggered the explosion that trapped us here. So, personally, I'd rather worry about it later." He held up the small slate of rock, carved with languages none of them could read.
Cody gaped for a second. That was pretty good thing to say if Obi-Wan wanted all the men to immediately lose faith in either himself or Cody. They had never disagreed in front of the troops, no matter how minor the issue. Equally unusual, he felt the urge to snap back. It was like he was four all over againâ Oh. He was, wasn't he?
"Alright, but if you make it through, expect me to follow."
"I was hoping you'd say that." Obi-Wan chirped, grinning like he had just won some huge award.
Turned out that they both did fit, though Cody had to get shoved through and his shoulders got a little scraped up. But it was worth it for the first breath of fresh air outside.
Obi-Wan turned to him, eyes wide, and laughed. "I was honestly not positive that would work."
Cody couldn't help but join him in his laughter, breathless and a little manic, before a voice called out from inside the rubble.
"Will you two grow up and go find a damn signal?"
That was definitely Boil, no one else would speak like that to their COs, even if their COs were children. Cody couldn't help but smile.
"Yeah, yeah, old man. We're going." Cody really was just content with losing all respect, wasn't he. Eh, he was four, he was allowed to be petulant. Besides, he doubted that the eight people still trapped under the debris would be telling anyone else. Not because he trusts them, hells no, but because the situation was almost as embarrassing for them as it was for him and Obi-Wan. After all, they were the ones whose shebs would be saved by children.
Obi-Wan held out his hand, and Cody took it without a second thought, not that he had time to. The Jedi took off the second he had a hold on Cody's fingers. They ran up to the closest hill they could find and surveyed the landscape. Nothing but red grass and blue flowers and crumbling old ruins as far as the eye could see. It was almost beautiful.
Until it started raining.
A couple of light drops of water was all the warning they got before the sky opened, absolutely soaking them immediately. Cody groaned and took off againâ-still attached to Obi-Wanâ-towards the nearest gray, stone building that looked like it still had a ceiling. As soon as they made it inside, they heaved out twin sighs of relief. The building wasn't completely waterproof, but it was good enough. They made their way into the middle of the floor, where there was the least amount of leakage, and Cody shook himself savagely. The rain outside was not slowing, in fact, it seemed to only get heavier as time went on. Lightning flashed every few seconds. The thunder was constant, but could barely be heard over the sound of the rain.
And then the walls came down.
Not "came down," as in they fell. "Came down," as in a separate set of walls dropped in from the soggy ceiling, completely (and separately) entombing Cody and the General. The walls were some kind of clear glass or crystal, faceted and almost completely transparent. The wall between them had gaps in it, sort of decoratively symmetrical.
"Uhh, Commander?"
"Yeah, sir, I noticed." Cody pounded on the wall, and it didn't even crack. Not glass, then. His enhanced strength would have taken care of glass that thick, child body or no.
In spite of the situation, Obi-Wan giggled, his voice echoing oddly from the other side of the crystal. "Cody, please don't call me "sir," it feels strange. I'm eleven."
"How can you possibly know how old you are?"
"No scar on my thumb. I rub it when I'm nervous, but right now there's nothing to rub."
"How do you know you aren'tâ I dunno, nine?"
"Just a guess, I suppose. I feel too tall to be nine. You, on the other hand, look younger than that."
Cody quickly crunched the numbers in his head. "S'pose that would make sense, if it's relative. I'm developmentally about 10 years younger than you. Twenty-four to thirty-five, eight to eleven."
"You're ignoring the fact that we are trapped."
"Yes, I am."
"That doesn't change the situation."
"I'm aware. But, as previously stated, I am eight years old. Four, actually. I'm trying not to panic. How are you calm?"
"Oh, I'm not. I'm actually fighting off a panic attack, if I am to be frank. This is almost exactly how Qui-Gon died, with me trapped on the other side of a ray shield. I just keep talking because it seems to distract me."
Cody cursed himself. He knew that, and it should have occurred to him that this was probably Obi-Wan's worst nightmare. He kicked his feet along the bottom of the wall, and noticed a particularly concerning fact. The crystal was growing. Not just randomly growing, it seemed to be specifically growing to cover the holes in the wall, creeping up and up. And, as if that wasn't worrisome enough, Cody's feet were wet. Not from the rain, but from the water seeping up from the floor. It was rapidly climbing higher, just a little below the level of growing crystal. The sound was rather pleasant, Cody noted, but he also noted that Obi-Wan's side of the little prison was completely dry.
The irony was not lost on him. And the irony was pretty kriffed up.
And it got worse once Obi-Wan noticed. The Jedi just let out a hysterical little laugh, and started pacing. "Wow, how wonderful."
"Hey, GeâObi-Wan, it's okay. It's okay. It's really slow."
Obi-Wan stopped pacing and stretched his hand through a hole at shoulder height, yet to be covered. Cody didn't even think before he grabbed the boy's (man's?) hand.
"It'll be okay," He repeated. "I'm fine."
The water was about knee high now, and the row of crystals at shoulder height were starting to close off. Cody pushed Obi-Wan's hand back just before the crystal could trap it there, and Obi-Wan let out a pained sound, pressing up against the wall. It hurt Cody. Hurt him more that being trapped, than the memories he had at this age, the memories that this water chamber was starting to dredge up.
Watching his brothers take their turns in the tank, none coming out conscious. "It's for your training," the longnecks had said. It felt like torture to Cody. Though, he supposed, maybe that was the point. It's hard for torture to frighten you if you have already experienced worse.
His turn now, he pulled on the breathing mask and stepped into the tank. It started filling up from the tubes in the sides, and the cold water shocked him a little. He watched the blinking, red light outside on the wall, until it counted up to three minutes. As soon as it hit three, he took a deep breath and shoved the mask off his face, and the clock started counting down again. Could he make it?
No. He woke up later in the medbay.
Like he always did.
The memories froze him. He didn't realize that Obi-Wan was calling his name, increasingly urgent, or that the water had reached his hips. It was cold, not as cold as it had been back on Kamino, but still just above freezing. He could almost imagine the crimson light of the clock, the sneering face of the trainer. The trainer hadn't been inherently cruel, but years of torturing little boys did something to the psyche.
So Cody suspected, at least.
Finally, a cry of "Cody!" woke him from his reverie. Obi-Wan was sobbing on the other side of the chamber, in a way Cody have never seen him cry, hand gripping his hair tightly enough to stretch the skin above his ear.
The water was up to his chest now, and rising fast, and the panic was still tight in his chest, but he made himself look Obi-Wan in the eyes. Before he did though, he caught his own gaze. His face was smooth in the crystal, no scar marring his temple. He absently wondered how anyone would be able to tell who he was, stuck in a child's body with no scar.
"It's alright," he said as the water carried him up, up, toward the top of the chamber. It wasn't nearly far enough away.
"I'll be fine," he called as he felt his head press against the ceiling. Too soon.
"I'm okay," he lied, then took a deep breath, right before the water covered his mouth and nose.
The clock ticked down, 2.59, 2.58, 2.57...
He sank back down, keeping his eyes open and on the crying boy leaning on the wall. Cody smiled and pressed his hand against the crystal.
1.46, 1.45, 1.44, 1.43...
Obi-Wan frantically pushed his own hand against Cody's through the wall. His other fist pounded at the crystal, to no avail. Cody's lungs were starting to burn.
1.03, 1.02, 1.01...
Cody's vision got darker, but he kept his gaze on Obi-Wan. Through the water, he looked distorted, but his eyes were unmistakable. Blue, bright with tears, creased with grief. Cody thought that it had been a while since he had seen those eyes smile. He hoped they would again, maybe after the Wars. Long after Cody was gone. He hoped this wouldn't break Obi-Wan beyond repair. His gaze really did go black now, and the clock in his memory blinked just twice more.
0.01, 0.00.
He felt a satisfied smile pull on his lips. He made it.
~~~~~~~~
Obi-Wan saw Cody's eyes close, and he cried out. "Cody! Stay with me!"
He couldn't ask that of him. It was selfish and impossible. But Obi-Wan felt so small, so helpless. It was just like when Qui-Gon had died, and he could do nothing. Nothing.
"Not nothing," a voice chided. "You can change it, this time."
A different voice swirled around him. "He must learn."
The first voice pressed in. "This will only break him. You are strong, child. Use it."
The soft voice was right. If he lost Cody right now, he would shatter. There would be no Obi-Wan Kenobi to put together, not like there had been last time. He would never come back. Maybe that was what the Code aimed to prevent when it forbade attachments. He had never been good at staying away from those he loved.
But there was no way to get to Cody.
"The power. It is yours to use, young one. Focus it."
"What power?!" He yelled, sounding like a child, even to his own ears. He was a child, actually. No response. Obi-Wan took a deep breath and placed his hands on the crystal wall, tears slipping down his cheeks as he closed his eyes. And he focused. It was like meditating, but more. He felt it. Power. Flowing through his very being. That was what the voice meant. It felt like an ocean, pushing and pulling at him, flowing through him. He waited, waited....
And pushed.
The crystal around him shattered. Shattered like Obi-Wan, because he surged forward and Cody was in his arms and he was him again, filling out his armor, scar across his temple but he was still and cold. Obi-Wan lowered Cody to the ground, brushing the shards of crystal away with his mind, and cried again. "Cody, Cody please. Wake up." He gulped in a breath of air. "Commander, wake up! That's and order!" And he used the power and he pushed the water out of Cody's lungs, but he still didn't stir. He heart had all but stopped, and he wasn't breathing. Obi-Wan used the power again and gathered the Force around Cody's lungs, breathing for him, in--out--in--out--in--
That's when Obi-Wan noticed the crystal in his hand. He would have dismissed it, thrown it with the rest of the shards of crystal littering the floor around him, if not for the glow.
"It is for him. This was as much his trial as it was yours."
The sense of desperation flooded him again, and he fought back tears. What use would Cody have for the crystal if he was dead? But he pressed it to the commander's chest anyway.
"Cody, don't leave. Please wake up. You have to wake up."
And then it was like Cody had heard him, because he coughed and shivered. Obi-Wan released his grip on the Force, because he didn't need it anymore, because Cody was breathing on his own. He squeezed his eyes shut and the scar on his temple stretched. Obi-Wan sobbed in relief and pressed a kiss to Cody's forehead, because he was alive, and they had passed whatever test they had been given, and they were alive.
And that would do for now. That would be enough until they had to go find help, until they had to get the squad out, until they found someone who could help.
Because Obi-Wan was not going to lose anyone today.
#codywanweek2021#commander cody#obi wan kenobi#there were many external factors that influenced this fic#its far from my best work#but kinda interesting at least
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⊠againts his own will - Draco Malfoy x Reader
not my gif! credit to the owner!
summary:Â Draco is forced to risk the life of the person he is in love with
word count:Â 1,879
When Snapeâs words left his mouth, Dracoâs world vanished. "You have to give it to her'' the Professorâs elongated finger pointed to y/n, from an afar window to where she was.
Within the Room of Requirement, the blond had found a haunted necklace that was supposed to make it easier for him to kill the headmasters. But it went against him. When he warned the professor of his idea of giving the necklace to someone random to give to him, using an Imperius Curse, his brilliant idea went against him. That person whom he should bewitch must be y/n, the pretty girl who had been by his side since 1st year, who had stolen his heart when they were just children.
"I wonât give it to her," Draco observed toward the courtyard where y/n was laughing alongside her housemates. "Itâs the Dark Lords order, you canât interfere with your stupid hormonal feelings" Snape looked at him with almost empathy as he looked at the sweet girl, who was waiting for him to practice spells. "the journey to hogsmeade is in two days, prepare a plan". The teacher tried to leave the room, but his studentâs voice slowed him down. "why her? of all people, why her?" Dracoâs voice contained too much concern, which would explode at any moment. "he knew her family, they used to work for him," he replied in a cold voice. "she would never do it under her own will"Â "another reason to choose her, people would never suspect" and now he exited the room.
 His head still did not seem to reason, so he kept a serious and almost heartless view of everything that happened around him.
despite the cold winter, y/n was walking through the open meadows of the school in search of a blond hair, which she found when she returned inside the castle. "here you are! I was looking for you everywhere" she said gently touching his arm covered in a pristine black suit, replacing his uniform. "I needed to look for some books in the common room...sorry".Â
Draco couldnât look her in the eye, in two days he would have to force her into something he wasnât strong enough to face, he would have to risk his best friendâs life over an impudent You-Know-Who whim. "It's alright. I found a very cozy place in the east wing, it is perfect to studyâ her voice remained warm, despite seeing the clear disgust that Draco had, she wanted to shut up and start walking there but when she did not receive an answer she had to speak again. "Draco, you know we can postpone this, itâs not urgent"Â "I donât feel well, thatâs all" he clarified, but his raspy voice and pale face gave him away already "we can meet another day, go back to your dorm, itâs fine" y/n hugged her friend for a short time to head back to her common room, without a word.
-----------
The next two days passed in the blink of an eye.
 Draco had not been able to sleep on any of the two nights of rest he needed for the day he feared so much. His thoughts led him to see her, with her shiny hair and her glowing eyes. The natural and simple way she talked to everyone and how she made him feel loved every time Draco noticed how she only had eyes for himself. He was drowning in the idea of her and wanted to disappear when he thought that he would be the one to take away that characteristic spark.Â
the afternoon of the journey to Hogsmeade, he did not approach her and she did not approach him. The times she tried to check on her best friend the previous two days, she had received nothing but a cold look from him. She knew she had done nothing wrong, but still the uncertainty ate her up.
That day he watched her from afar. He watched her enter The Three Broomsticks with Harry, Ron and Hermione on her sides. He watched her order a butterbeer and drink it, while she laughed beside Granger. The last time he saw her from afar was when she went to the bathroom, thatâs where he came in. With his trembling hands he clutched the wrapper containing the necklace and as everything revolved around him he entered the ladies' room carefully, so as not to be seen.
As he entered he saw her drying her hands with a small towel, y/n saw him standing at the door so she couldn't help but frowned confused. "Draco, this is the ladies' room, you canât be here" She approached him, who took her arm with more force than necessary and put them into a compartment, glued to each other. "Lower your voice" whispered the blond "Can you tell me what you are doing, Draco Mlafoy?" y/n began to worry as his friendâs pale face was getting worse, almost nauseating. "Iâm sorry, y/n" without looking at her face, he took his wand out of his suit "Draco, why are you apologizing? Why are you pulling your wand?" That was the last thing she could say before she felt his best friends' lips on hers, it was a sweet, gentle kiss that didnât last long, as Draco backed away and began to conjure the spell that soon left her under his control.Â
After y/n left the bathroom, she went straight to the snowy road that would take her back to Hogwarts. The golden trio saw her leave agitated without turning to see them and went immediately after her.
Draco came out of the bathroom when he saw no moors on the coast, so he left the pub to vomit in the snow on the side of the old hut, almost the second he set foot outside. Because of his dizziness, he could not hear the cries for help coming from Hermioneâs voice. Imperius Curse had not had full effect, causing her to unintentionally touch the contents of the package given by the blond. This made the curse sink into her, blowing her up. Seeing her friend floating, Harry and Ron began to scream for help as they saw that no solution was within their grasp. Thanks to Merlin, Hagrid was in the area and collaborated so that y/n could be taken back to the castle, straight to Madam Pomfreyâs.
after two hours of the meeting in the Three Broomsticksâ bathroom, Draco eagerly awaited the return of his friend, at the Great Hall. The spell should have dissolved by now and she should be back in her full consciousness. But minutes passed and all the students who entered were unimportant in the sight of the blond. His hands moved restlessly in his lap, and anxiety overcame him. No known face seemed to enter the dining room until, an hour after his arrival, he did see an acquaintance. Harry Potter was speeding up to the Slytherinâs table where he was sitting. "WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER?! TELL ME RIGHT NOW!" He grabbed Draco from his shirt and picked him up from the bench where he was sitting "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU SAYING, POTTER? I DIDNâT DO ANYTHING!" but he did and he knew "DONâT LIE TO ME IDIOT, WHAT DID YOU DO TO Y/N IN THE BATHROOM THAT NOW SHE ISN'T WAKING UP?!" That phrase stirred Dracoâs world, and turned his knees into water. With a sudden movement, the blond ran to the infirmary to meet his best friend. Her beautiful eyes closed and her face calm, as if she was taking a nap, but she was not. At that time, the only one present on the side of y/nâs bed was Luna Lovegood, who saw him arrive and calmly said, when he saw him with tears on his cheeks that had come out in his jog to that place, "I leave you alone, I know you need it". And so the girl left, leaving him alone with his fear and anxiety. It was all his fault, sheâd been hurt because he wasnât brave enough to face Severus or smart enough to conjure up the spell that, maybe, would have kept her safe. If she had been in her place she would have protected him.
y/n lay in a hospital bed for two days without regaining consciousness. Draco stood by her side the whole time, with his thoughts stuck in his head like daggers, if she didnât wake up it would be all his fault, he would have killed the only person who really accepted him and loved him and not for carrying a certain last name. The only time he would let go of her hand and stop crying was when Potter and his clan came to visit, which was quite frequent.
on Monday morning, she woke up and found a tired Draco beside her. Her blond hair was scattered cluttered across her stomach and a mountain of tissues laying on the small bedside table at the head of the bed. When her hand caressed her friendâs soft hair, he quickly rose from his shallow sleep. "Hey..." despite her condition she gave him one of her beautiful smiles âoh! um...let me look for Pomfrey" the blond tried to escape the place before having to face her. Coward he thought of himself. "You donât have to go, Draco. Stay" with a weak and trembling hand, she took his hand and sat him at the feet of the thin bed. "How do you feel?" he still didnât look her in the eye, but hearing her question he couldnât help but look up "what? I should be asking you that" y/n let slip a little smile "I remember everything, Draco"Â "what? how?" Â "you should practice your spells with me next time you want to enchant someone". Although her voice carried a large portion of comedy on her, the blond began to cry without being able to control himself. "I did not want to do it, but he asked me and I had no choice" the soft hand began to caress his cheek in search of consolation. "sh sh...ok, I understand. I know what you went through in the summer, Draco. I know you are doing things you personally donât want to do". He himself had taken care of telling her everything that had happened in his summer. "How come youâre so understanding? I just risked your whole life, you have to hate me! you have to get away from me, Iâm a bad person!" It wasnât Draco talking, it was his anxiety taking his place. He wanted y/n to stick by his side, even if it was selfish. Therefore, y/n took his face and kissed him to silence his absurd words, they kissed slowly and affectionately, without haste or distraction. With that kiss they said more than a stupid conversation could clear up. They told each other how much they were in love with each other, how much they loved each other and how much they wanted to take care of each other. "Just so you know, I also remember the kiss" y/n said, without taking her lips off his, causing a big smile to take place on Dracoâs face before kissing her again.
#draco malfoy#draco x reader#draco x y/n#draco malfoy fanfiction#draco malfoy imagine#hogwarts#one shots#harry potter#fanfic#fanfiction
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medical updates
so urgent care didn't work out (they don't do bloodwork, which thankfully i found out before going), but i was able to get an appointment at the last doctor's office i went to (which i'd been having trouble getting ahold of previously). luckily they had an opening on thursday. they're the sort of clinic that services low income families, so their medicaid wait times aren't extreme like with other places.
it was a good experience, at least. the doctor this time wasn't dismissive of me the way the last one was. outside of my blood pressure being a little high, my physical went fine, and my psych was worried one of my meds would be making it too low, so with luck she'll be willing to up that dose now...
the blood draw also went fine, the tech who did it had a little chat with me about how important it is to not hurt people when you draw their blood, bc it's how people get needle phobias (she even has one herself!), and honestly the soreness later was worse than the actual thing. my psych's been asking me to get my blood drawn since october, so hopefully this assuages some of her concerns, lmao.
i have a telehealth appointment with the doctor on monday to discuss the results. honestly, my biggest fear is that it *isn't* hypothyroidism. that it's something worse, or conversely, my blood doesn't show anything at all. i want answers, and this makes sense, especially with my thyroid having been a concern in the past... i don't want to have nothing to move forward with.
if the scale at the office was right, i've lost like 20 pounds since my appetite started dying a year ago. i don't exercise. that's all from under-eating. i'm fat, so i feel like that'd be a good thing in the eyes of a lot of people, but like... that's not a fucking healthy way to lose weight. the part of me that doesn't like being fat couldn't even really be excited about it. *i didn't do anything to make that happen.* i just don't eat enough.
on the flip side, if it is my thyroid, the sudden and unexpected weight gain after an adolescence of being a pretty average size might have an explanation beyond what flimsy reasons i've thought of since it happened. i dunno what happens to that sort of thing if your thyroid gets regulated. honestly, i'm mostly just hoping my hair goes back to normal... it's been thinning, but hypothyroidism can cause that. it's worse for my self image than anything else. i won't even get it cut to alleviate my dysphoria because i don't want a hairdresser to see it.
so... if this is something else, or nothing, all of the issues i have that i desperately want to change and don't know how to fix will still be unexplained. i'm... terrified. i just want answers, and i want a concrete plan of how to move forward.
i've been struggling with appetite loss for a while now. it happened once in my teens too, and no one cared then despite my worries; it went away after a few months. i was a healthy weight then, so when it came back last year after i'd gained all the weight i have through my 20s, it was taken even less seriously. i mean, i'm fat; i could stand to eat less, right?
i mentioned it to my psych but she didn't seem overly worried. i haven't seen a doctor in a while for a variety of reasons, but the last PCP i saw was dismissive of my concerns because of my weight anyway, so i didn't have high hopes. in october, a panic attack made me rush to the urgent care to be told that i was, in fact, panicking. it seemed reasonable. all the things that have been worrying me could be attributed to poor diet and weight and anxiety.
my appetite got kind of worse recently. like, past few days recently. suddenly i can't finish foods i usually was able to. this afternoon it occurred to me that maybe this is an actual issue, that i should try to figure out what it is. it's been going on for ages. i'd accepted it as my new normal, more or less, but the decline made me worried.
it did not take long to stumble upon a common appetite loss cause: hypothyroidism.
i have nearly all of the common symptoms.
i... broke down. medical articles make things like this sound terrifying. if i'm right, this has been happening to me for a long time. completely untreated. i was clueless.
i'm going back to the urgent care tomorrow. they should be able to test my blood, i think... the treatment isn't intensive. but i'm so scared i've been permanently damaged by it. the anxiety is whispering in my ear telling me the sudden worse symptoms mean i can take a nosedive overnight. or maybe i'm wrong--maybe it's something even worse. but the symptoms line up...
i'd like to calm down, but anxiety exacerbates physical symptoms that, you know, make me more anxious. i guess we'll find out if i can even sleep properly tonight. i'm so frustrated that it took me this long to look into it...
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ML Fic: Power Trip
Summary: Lila, in order to keep her sheep in line and punish those who defied her, puts extra time into prepping the classâ end-of-the-year trip.
Unfortunately, she underestimated just how far Marinette would go to upstage her.
Ao3 link here.
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A/N:Â Something that always bothered me about âMarinette is the best at student councilâ salt fics was that Lila and/or Alya always have no idea what this position entails. I donât think that makes sense; assuming Lila tried the same act at previous schools, sheâd probably know the ins and outs of working on the student council by now. And Alya wouldnât just forget her time as Marinetteâs class rep assistant just because she hates her now; sheâd most likely have a working idea of what that entails, too.
So I chose to make Lila smarter here than she usually is in fics regarding this subject. (No worries â she still gets her karma.)
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âIâm so glad you could all come!â
Lila smiled at all of her classmates, whoâd gathered with her in Ms. Bustierâs room to discuss some important matters.
She heard Alix mutter something about the gathering being âmandatoryâ and âanother example of Bustierâs favoritismâ, but she ignored it.
âNow, as we all know, every year we do an end-of-the-year field trip to some amazing location. As your new Class Representative...â
She paused to shoot a quick smirk at Marinette, who either didnât notice or didnât care.
â...I propose that this year...we go to Disneyland Paris!â
Naturally, her lackeys cheered for her, and Adrienâs eyes lit up at the idea (she had to thank Gabriel for sheltering the boy as much as he had; it made him so easy to manipulate). The others â the ones that had sided with Marinette â seemed intrigued, but nothing beyond that.
Lila smirked again. This was almost too easy.
She quickly switched to her disappointed role model face. âUnfortunately, Ms. Bustier has ruled that some students will be unable to attend this trip due to all the unacceptable behavior theyâve demonstrated in the past. This includes being discluded from any fundraisers we will have to help fund this trip.â
It took all of five seconds for Marinette and her cronies to realize this meant them.
Naturally, Alya and ChloĂ© protested the loudest, but they were quickly shut down by Adrien, who admonished them for daring to bring their drama into an official class meeting. Upset, they took Marinette and walked out, followed by everyone else whoâd supported them.
This left herself, Adrien, Kim, Max (and Markov), Mylene, and Ivan.
Ah, well. Sheâd worked with less before. She could do this.
With that, they started planning things out.
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It didnât take her long to secure approval from the principal and the school board for the trip. Ms. Bustier had volunteered to be one of their chaperones, and so had Myleneâs father.
With her calculations, she realized that they needed roughly $6000 for the trip. A little flattery (and a promise to keep spying on his son for him) had gotten them a $1500 donation from Gabriel Agreste himself, so that left them to raise $4500 more for the trip. Quickly, they went to work.
The first fundraiser had been a bake sale â Mylene had gotten the idea to theme it after fall, with cute leaf patterns and gourd-shaped cupcakes and the like. And besides, the bake sale was always their first fundraiser of the year. Lila had agreed immediately.
There was only one problem â their main distributor of baked goods was no longer a part of the fundraiser.
Whatever. They didnât need her anyways.
The group dedicated an entire weekend to baking these treats, and started selling them at school on Monday (after obtaining the permission of the principal and making sure it didnât collide with any other fundraisers, of course). By the end of the day, theyâd raised almost $500.
During her shift, Lila had spotted a pair of boys walk past the table â an older boy in a blue hoodie, and a younger one in a red hoodie. She recognized them as friends of Marinette (Luka and Marc, if she remembered correctly). Listening in on their conversation, she learned that Marinette had apparently hosted a bake sale of her own over the weekend.
She was torn between confusion (why had Marinette done a bake sale?) and confidence (obviously it wasnât a success). She chose the latter.
By the end of the day, she had Ms. Bustier chewing out Marinette for daring to undermine the classâ fundraiser.
$4000 to go.
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Next up was the annual homecoming game and dance. That, like all major school events, had its ticket money split between the various classes and the school overall, with the class that raised the most money getting the lionâs share.
Kim had volunteered to help drum up support for the school team with his girlfriend Ondine (who Lila had promised could come on their class trip after her class had unfairly excluded her for daring to badmouth Marinette). The duo sold tickets fairly fast, their enthusiasm likely playing a part in it.
Lila also noticed that Marinette and her friends were handing out pamphlets for some website â apparently, the former âeveryday Ladybugâ was trying to launch her own clothing line.
She snorted. Good luck with that â the world of fashion was cruel, fickle, and would probably eat her alive.
The game and dance came and went, and Bustierâs class had sold the second highest amount of tickets after Mendeleievâs class. The teacher was concerned (theyâd always been in the top spot before, for some reason), but Lila didnât care; theyâd gotten $1000 out of the deal, after all.
$3000 to go.
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As December came, both Max and Adrien proposed fundraisers for the season.
Max suggested candy cane messages. According to his calculations, these were always successful in previous years.
Adrien suggested that they have girls (and some boys) pay him for a picture of them kissing under the mistletoe.
Maxâs idea was the one they went with, but Lila had to say, she was surprised â Adrien had never tried to use his looks to his advantage before. Perhaps her own cunning mind was rubbing off on him.
She could deal with that.
As Max had predicted, the plan was a success, netting them more cash than their previous endeavors. Everyone in school had wanted to send a message to someone else, be it a friend, a crush, or a teacher. Even Lila herself had gotten a few.
Over the course of the fundraiser, sheâd overheard a conversation between Marinette (ugh), Juleka, Rose, and two girls from Mendeleievâs class (Aurore and Mireille, right?) about some trip they were going to go on.
Hmph. So Marinette was going to force another class to accommodate her and her friends, huh? So be it.
She quickly told Ms. Bustier of this new development, and smirked as she watched the teacher chew out Marinette for daring to drag another class into her drama.
$1500 to go.
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Christmas and New Yearâs came and went, and Valentineâs Day was coming up. And so was the Valentineâs Day dance.
Ivan was the one who came up with the idea to sell heart-shaped candy and Hersheyâs kisses alongside the tickets, and everyone agreed it was a good way to get some extra money if they failed to get enough money to fund the rest of the trip. Lila agreed to it, but warned that she wouldnât be able to help as much as she had before; after all, she had to start preparing all the necessary paperwork for the trip.
Sure enough, the plan went off without a hitch. The class once again managed to get the top spot, and the candy sales more than made up for what they lacked. They were going to Disneyland Paris.
She then had one last encounter with Marinetteâs allies â Luka and Nathaniel were putting up fliers for a Jagged Stone concert. When she bragged to Nathaniel about how her leadership had netted them the trip, heâd given her a cold smile and an odd response.
âOh, thatâs alright. We already have a trip planned that we need to fundraise.â
Privately, Lila celebrated. With Marinette on their side, it was more than likely that Mendeleievâs class was going to fall short of their goals.
After all, she was completely useless.
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The end of the year came, and so did the classâ (and Ondineâs) three days in Disneyland Paris.
Naturally, the whole trip had been amazing. They had plenty of photos and souvenirs to share with their less fortunate classmates (officially, to make sure they werenât âentirely left outâ; unofficially, to brag). And Lila had finally gotten Adrien to kiss her.
Lila had wanted to gather the entire class together so that she could make Marinette and her cronies feel even worse, but strangely none of them were there when she got back. Neither were several kids from Mendeleievâs class (Aurore, Mireille, Marc, and Kagami) or Luka, for that matter.
She didnât know why until her lackeys started sending her urgent texts.
She looked at them...and her stomach dropped.
It was an Instagram post of Marinette, Alya, and Chloé at an airport; Marinette was sitting on a suitcase, Alya was holding the phone, and Chloé pretended to be distracted by doing her makeup.
The caption read âTaking a trip across the states with all of our friends!!! It was originally gonna be the class trip, but that fell through.â
So that was what the brat had been planning.
Lila felt herself go pale.
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Lila spent the rest of the summer checking Marinette, Alya, and ChloĂ©âs Instagrams (and Ninoâs, which was likely gotten just to help rub salt in the wound). Each adventure felt more unbelievable than the last.
First was New York City, where Marinette had apparently managed to secure the group a tour of the Avengers Tower. There were photos of ChloĂ© sassing Tony Stark (and Pepper trying her hardest not to laugh and/or give the girl an apprenticeship on the spot in the background). Of Rose and Juleka on Captain Americaâs shoulders, fangirling over him. Of Alix, who mostly took selfies with the Black Widow and Hawkeye. Of Kagami and Sabrina (of all people) helping Starkâs young interns (Peter, Harley, Shuri, Ned, MJ, and Riri, apparently) play various pranks around the tower.
Alya posted an interview where she asked the heroes questions about Parisâ own heroes on the Ladyblog, and the siteâs traffic immediately tripled.
The next location was Miami, Florida. According to Marinette, this destination was meant to be more low-key.
Which meant they just so happened to enter a music shop that international pop star Austin Moon was frequenting at the time. And it just so happened to be the shop run in part by his girlfriend and frequent collaborator Ally Dawson.
Naturally, this lead to photos of Luka and Nino jamming out with the two of them and their friends.
And, apparently, Marinette decided to namedrop Lila. Because the next video on her Instagram was one of Austinâs manager angrily cursing the Italianâs name (and that of Adrien, for some reason) for bullying such an amazing girl and lying to her classmates about it.
Lila wasnât surprised when she and Adrien were kicked out of the classâ group chat shortly afterwards. She was too numb to be surprised at that point.
Next was Gotham City, which naturally lead to photos with both successful billionaire Bruce Wayne and resident superhero Batman. And all their kids. And the nicer Rogues (often with Nathaniel and Marc loudly sassing their villainous plans in the background).
Bruce Wayne and Tony Stark had apparently gotten into a Twitter war over who was going to adopt the group first. Alya had responded by suggesting they get shared custody.
Next was Hollywood, California. Marinette managed to get photos with Finn Wolfhard and Mckenna Grace on the set of the new Ghostbusters movie (and their numbers, if the captions were to be believed). Chloé, meanwhile, preferred to take photos of all the hunky actors and beautiful actresses walking around.
Their final destination had been Hawaii. That one (much to Lilaâs surprise) did not end with the class meeting a celebrity; however, they did get to meet students from a Japanese school that had apparently had the same idea as them.
Alya took photos with some kid named Mishima, claiming they had something in common. Other photos were taken with a pair of blonde kids (Lila didnât know if they were siblings or not, but given their apparent romantic closeness, the latter was more likely), a brown-haired girl, and a blue-haired boy.
The most photos, however, were those of Marinette with a boy her age, with messy black hair and glasses. Judging from Alya and ChloĂ©âs comments, the two were into each other.
Lila couldnât take it. Sheâd thrown her phone against the wall at that.
How was Marinette having so much fun when sheâd done her best to ruin her life?
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Finally, school started up again. Predictably, everyone was glaring at Lila when she entered the building â even her former sheep.
She was the first to enter the classroom. As everyone filed in, they shot a glare at her â or at Adrien, whoâd apparently been dragged down with her.
Marinette was the last to enter. She stood in front of Lilaâs desk, gave her a cold smile, and asked her one thing.
âSo, Lila! How was your summer?â
Lila wanted to scream.
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DannyMay 2021 Day 12: Scars
Not All Scars Are Visible
Summary: Sam gets updated on Danny's home situation. Part 3 of the Leave The Hurt Behind series!
Word Count: 1069
Okay so here is the final DannyMay for 2021 that is in order! I did have a few ideas for some prompts that I haven't gotten to yet so I'm going to just skip ahead to those days and then I'll be done with DannyMay this year.
You can read it on AO3 or down below the cut
Sam stared at her phone in disbelief. She had just been minding her own business, grinding exp for her character in Doomed when the notification went off more dramatically than usual.
Thatâs when she noticed it was marked urgent.
She paused the game and slid off her headphones while she checked the message.
It simply read, âThe S.O.S. is active.â
It felt like all the air just left the room. Her headphones dropped with a clatter on her keyboard but she didnât care. She barely noticed the âgame overâ that flashed on the screen due to the careless removal of her headset that unpaused the game.
Her fingers flew across the digital keyboard in response, âIs he hurt? Do you need anything?â
âNo injuries. Mom says you can stop by after dinner so we can all talk.â
âUs âweâ, or is that including your parents?â
âNot sure.â
âDoes Jazz know?â
âNo.â
Sam sighed and went to flop face-first into her bed. Of course, he didnât tell her yet. She readjusted so she could respond, âWhy not?â
âI donât know what to tell her.â
âShe knows about the plan.â
âI know.â
Sam rolled over and held her phone above her, âIâll let her know heâs safe.â
âThanks. Gotta go.â
Then he was silent.
She sat up and called Jazz knowing the older girl preferred calls to texts. She was such an old lady.
âHey, Sam, whatâs up?â
âYou remember the S.O.S. plan, right?â
Jazz went quiet for a moment. Sam could just hear the sound of her door locking. âYes.â
âHeâs safe. No injuries.â Sam started, knowing thatâs all that Jazz would be thinking about if she didnât say something right away.
âDo you know what happened? It was quiet when I got home from the library earlier.â
âAre they there?â
âYeah. In the usual place.â
Sam sighed, so they werenât out looking for him. Yet.
âHow long before they notice?â
Jazz snorted, âHonestly? Tomorrow after school. At the earliest.â
âSeriously?â that was, really sad.
âYeah, I can probably buy a few more hours if I need to. Where should I say he is?â
âMy place. Iâm sure thereâs an imaginary lit project we could be working on.â
âOh, thatâs a good one. And then itâll be the weekend so they wonât mind a group project turned sleepover.â
âIâm going to Tuckerâs tonight. Did you want me to call you when Iâm heading over?â
âNo, I need to stay here and keep an eye on them. Just send me a picture so I know heâs okay.â
âOkay,â Sam promised and hoped maybe she could convince Danny to call his sister too. Jazz was way too important to be left in the dark.
================================================
Sam didnât even bother to get her moped out of the garage and instead decided to just go on foot. Which means she was only a little out of breath by the time she made it to Tuckerâs.
âDid you run all the way here?â he asked in lieu of a greeting.
âNo,â she lied.
Tucker just rolled his eyes and stepped aside so she could come in. âHeâs upstairs talking to Jazz.â
Sam paused midway up the stairs and turned to face Tucker, âHe called her?â That certainly was unexpected.
âYeah, figured that would be a good time to wait for you downstairs.â
âWell Iâm here. So if sheâs on the phone still we can just talk about this now.â
âSam, wait!â
She ignored him and made her way to his room. She was tired of not knowing.
Sam stood just outside the door and paused. Something in Dannyâs voice sounded off.
âYou know I was probably just overreacting. I didnât mean to worry you. I can make it back before curfew if I leave now.â
He sounded nervous? No, that wasnât quite right. He sounded like he was lying.
âWhat do you mean stay?â he asked. âUntil Monday? But itâs Thursday.â he was quiet again and Sam really wished she could hear Jazzâs side of the conversation.
âAn alibi? That makes me sound like a criminal.â
Tucker nudged her shoulder and mouth, âwhat are you doing?â
Sam just waved him off and kept listening.
âYeah, I guess.â Danny relented before sighing, âAre you sure?â he asked.
She heard the bedsprings squeak as he sat down, âyeah, love you too. Bye.â
She gave him to the count of three before she knocked on the door and gently pushed it open.
He turned and gave the smallest smile when he saw her. She smiled back and tried not to think too hard about whatever it was that his parents did to him. Whatever it was it dimmed his smile.
He was wearing his favorite of Tuckerâs hoodies. Tucker said that the site glitched when he was ordering it and instead of getting a large, it came as a triple extra-large. Sam had a hunch that wasnât quite true since instead of sending it back to get the right size, he kept it. It wasnât exactly a secret that Danny preferred oversized clothes.
Danny had his knees bent and tucked underneath the massive hoodie opening, so just the tips of his toes, fingers, and his face were the only things visible.
Sam wasnât sure how to start the conversation. How do you ask your best friend, who you care so much about you would do anything to keep them safe, about the time she wasnât there? How could she possibly ask him to relive it?
Itâs obvious that heâs been crying. Not just because his eyes are still red, itâs how his posture reads sadness. How heâs still curled up in on himself even though heâs in a safe place.
She doesn't want to make it worse, but she needs to know. How can she help if she doesn't have all the pieces? She needed to know how hard to hit the Fentonâs.
Danny scooted forward to the edge of the bed to set his phone on the bedside table. He didnât say anything. He was probably waiting for her to start.
She figured she might as well start with the easiest question first, âNeed a hug?â
He immediately shot up from the bed and latched onto her like a terrified kola. With how tight he was holding on, she knew this was going to be a long night. Good thing they had until Monday.
#dannymay 2021#Danny Phantom#Phan fic#Day 12 Scars#okay... quick question... why was midnight the 11th and not the 12th??? was it too on the nose? I'm not mad or anything just curious đ€
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ouu yes ive been so obsessed with them (osasuna) recently and thereâs barely any fics for them in this department lol i wanted to see something like suna coming to school sick with the stomach flu or something and osamu taking him home to take care of him (i feel like itâs ooc for suna to go to go school if heâs not feeling well so itâd probably be one of those where it gets progressively worse throughout the day) sorry if this is too long haha
Okay!! Thank you for this request. Sorry it took so long. Honestly, I had a lot of fun with this and it ended up being so long, that Iâm gonna post it in 2 parts!!
You can totally read either as a stand alone though. Part 2 should be up soon :)
Suna and I have the same birthday, so I actually kinda put a lot of myself into him in this one since we share a star sign lmao. I hope itâs not too ooc for either of them. Itâs my first time writing sunaosa!
Sick at School: a SunaOsa fic
Pair: Sick Suna, Caretaker Osamu
Word Count: 3,024
Warnings: vomit & swearing & soft cuddles
Part 2 Here
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Suna was confused.
There was a strange gnawing in his gut that wasnât there when he woke up this morning. In fact, when he woke up this morning, he felt perfectly fine. Maybe he was a little more tired than usual, but he didnât sleep all that well, so he brushed it off and got ready for school.
But now, he was sitting in class, his eyes burning as he tried to stay awake. It was only Monday and only the second class of the day, but he felt like heâd been at school for days already. On top of the grumbly feeling in his stomach, his brain was muddled, so paying attention to whatever his teacher was saying was taking every bit of energy he could scrounge up.
It didnât make sense. He slept his eight hours (even if it wasnât the best sleep), he ate a good breakfast, he was hydrated, there werenât any tests or games coming up to make him anxious at all. So the unsteady, uncomfortable, unusual feelings he currently felt simply did not make a single bit of logical, rational sense.
And because they didnât make senseâbecause there was no rational reason for him to feel that wayâhe ignored it.
Ignoring it proved to be more difficult than he anticipated as the fog in his brain solidified into a consistent pounding and the gnawing in his stomach started to feel more like his stomach acid was boiling. The sun shining on him through the window didnât help any, and he started to feel rather warm. By his fourth class, occasional cramps rolled through his body, forcing him to tense every muscle in his body to keep from wincing.
When the teacher finally released them for lunch, Suna folded his arms on his desk and hid his face in the crook of his elbow, ready to take a nap. Within three seconds, he heard the chair in front of him scrape the ground, grating on his ears, and felt his desk shake as someone sat down. He adjusted his head and peeked over his arm to find Osamu staring down at him, his usual bored look gracing his features.
âYer sick, Sunarin,â he deadpanned and took a bite of his sandwich. Suna blinked at him several times.
Sick? Was that why he felt so weird? But he wasnât sick this morning. There was no way he would have come to school if he felt bad.
Still, it would explain why he slept poorly. It must be a fast acting bug.
âI guess so,â he mumbled and buried his face in his elbow again.
âHmmm,â Osamu mumbled. They were quiet for a minute or two before Osamu spoke again.
âWanna go to the infirmary?â he asked, his mouth full.
Suna looked up at him again and sighed before sitting up. The world spun around for a brief second and he closed his eyes until the feeling went away. When it righted itself once more, his stomach was hurting worse than before.
âHowâd you know anyway?â he asked and rested his chin in his hand.
âYouâve been lookinâ bad all morninâ. Wasnât hard to tell.â Osamu shrugged. His sandwich was gone and he started making his way through the onigiri he most likely made himself. The fact that Osamu could tell he wasnât feeling well from across the room made Suna blush. Or maybe he had a fever?
âPlus,â Osamu continued, âTsumuâs home right now with a pretty nasty stomach bug. Threw up all over his bed last night.â He scrunched up his nose cutely, probably remembering the disastrous scene from the night before. Atsumu was never good at being a sick person. Or an injured person. Or a person at all, really.
âWouldnât be all that surprising if ya caught it from him since ya slept over at our place last weekend.â
Suna nodded in agreement.
âWhat about you?â he asked. Osamu shrugged again.
âIâll probably be spewinâ my guts out by Thursday. Usually how it goes. One of us catches something then the other is sick within the week. Weâve only been sick at the same time a handful oâ times.â
âMmmm,â Suna nodded and put his head down once more. It was suddenly very difficult to hold his head up.
âInfirmary?â Osamu asked again. Suna shook his head.
âCanât move,â he whined before he could stop himself. Osamu looked at him with wide eyes.
âW-well, Iâll help ya out, dumbass,â he stuttered and Suna returned the wide eyed look.
âUh, sure. But finish your lunch first. I can wait. You should eat. Wake me up when youâre done,â he said and closed his eyes.
âAlright. Lemme know if we need to go sooner thoughâŠâ Osamu said hesitantly and Suna tried to ignore the implication behind the phrase.
Just because Atsumu had a stomach bug didnât mean that Suna did too. He wouldnât throw up at school. The increasing nausea absolutely had to be related to the growing migraine that slammed away at his head. He definitely would not throw up at school.
Before he started overthinking himself into a downward spiral, Osamu placed a hand in his hair. Suna was tense at first, but then Osamu started gently scratching his scalp and he immediately relaxed. He was a little embarrassed, honestly. Not because this was unusual though.
Osamu knew it helped Suna with his frequent headaches, so Suna was sure he somehow knew about the incoming migraine. It was just that this was usually something Osamu did for him in much more private settings. Heâd do it on the bus on the way back from away games, or in one of their rooms after school or during a sleepover. To be so affectionate in the middle of their classroom was unheard of and if Suna wasnât feeling so poorly, heâd probably smack Osamuâs hand away.
âYa got a slight fever there, Sunarin,â Osamu whispered gently.
âMmmm.â
âOkay. Iâll let ya know when Iâm done eatinâ.â
âMmmm.â
Within a few seconds, Suna felt himself drift off.
When he woke up again, it wasnât because of Osamu.
A violent cramp rolled through his gut and he shot up in his seat, ignoring the startled looks of his classmates. The cramp passed quickly, but left behind a foreboding feeling of nausea so intense it left him paralyzed and glued to his seat.
A second later, he noticed that Osamu was nowhere to be found and his anxiety increased. The situation was becoming increasingly urgent and there was no way in hell he could move or speak without throwing up all over his desk.
His chest tightened and he swallowed back a gag. He needed help. He needed Osamu.
âSuna-kun?â a girl from his class touched his shoulder and he flinched. She withdrew her hand.
âO-osamuââ he forced out and she nodded urgently and ran away and out the door. Less than a minute later, she came back, Osamu hot on her heels. She pointed to Suna and Osamu nodded before rushing over and stood in front of him.
âSunarin?â he tried and Suna shook his head.
âAre ya gonnaââ Suna nodded before Osamu could finish his question. The eyes of all of his classmates burned Sunaâs already flushed cheeks and as if to let everyone know what was going on, a gag forced itself through his body painfully and he leaned over his desk. He brought the back of his hand up to his mouth and whimpered.
âCan someone bring me a trash can, maybe?â Osamu snapped at their peers. The girl from before nodded and dashed to the corner of the room and dragged the trash can over to Sunaâs desk.
Everyone froze again and stared with scared eyes at the situation unfolding. Suna shook with effort, trying to stop the inevitable. He really really didnât want everyone to watch him throw up.
Thankfully, Osamu had his back.
âLeave?!â He shouted and everyone ran out of the room.
âIâll bring the nurse, Osamu-kun,â the same girl said and Osamu nodded, but his eyes were focused only on Suna. Theyâd have to remember to thank that girl later.
âIâm sorry, Rintaro. I finished my lunch and you were sleepinâ so peaceful I thought I had time to go to the bathroom before I took ya to the infirmary,â Osamu apologized and cupped Sunaâs face in his hands. His voice was much softer than a second ago. It was the voice reserved for those quiet nights that they spent chatting before they fell asleep. Or on the team bus early in the morning when everyone else was still too groggy to pay attention to them. And it comforted Suna in ways he couldnât comprehend.
âI feel sick, S-samu,â Suna forced through gritted teeth. The swirling in his stomach grew more insistent by the second and he knew it was only a matter of time before he was leaning over the trash can.
âI know, Rin. Iâm sorry. Itâs okay. Iâve got ya,â Osamu smiled softly at him and brushed his hair back. He frowned when Suna unconsciously leaned into his cold hands.
âFever got higher,â he mumbled. Suna gagged again.
âAlright, câmon,â he said and circled around the desk behind Suna. Osamu gently grabbed his trembling shoulders and positioned him over the trash can. Peopleâs leftovers from lunch filled about half the bin and the smell of all the different foods made Suna dizzy.
âRin, ya gotta relax,â Osamu sighed and forcefully rubbed between Sunaâs shoulder blades.
âN-no,â Suna said stubbornly.
âYer an idiot.â
âY-yeah.â
âItâs gonna feel worse if ya donât just let it happen,â Osamu tried. Suna shook his head.
âAlright well, be mad at me later, then,â Osamu muttered. Suna was about to turn and look at him questioningly, but Osamu wrapped a hand around Sunaâs front and placed it on his stomach. Even the minimal contact forced a wretch that left Suna reeling.
âD-donât,â he tried, but the request was punctuated by a painful hiccup.
âIâm sorry. Canât do that,â Osamu responded before starting to rub up and down on Sunaâs stomach quickly. The motion shook the contents nauseatingly and Suna couldnât stop the watery burp that followed. He shook his head, eyes squeezed shut tightly.
Osamu didnât relent. He started patting Sunaâs back with the other hand, forcing belch after belch. The conflicting motions wreaked havoc on Sunaâs already chaotic stomach.
They stayed like that for what felt like forever, before Suna grabbed Osamauâs wrist tightly.
âS-stopâhurrk. P-please, Samu. No m-morâhic,â Suna begged. All of his limbs felt like they were about a thousand pounds and he shivered, cold despite the sun beating down on his back.
âItâs okay, Rin. I got ya,â Osamu muttered. He pried Sunaâs sweaty hand off his wrist and replaced it with his hand. Suna squeezed hard when a wet belch jolted his body. His other hand grabbed the rim of the trash can in a white-knuckled grip. Osamu used his free hand to rub gently between Sunaâs shoulder blades again.
Suna squeezed his eyes shut when he wretched. His throat felt tight and he tried to swallow the accumulating saliva in his mouth, only for it to come back up with a noisy gag. He opted to just drop his mouth open and let the spit fall into the trash can disgustingly.
âS-Samuââ he tried but was interrupted by a guttural, wet, burp that left his head spinning. Two seconds later, he wretched and a weak stream vomit dribbled out of his mouth. It burned his throat and coated his mouth. The disgusting taste left him more nauseous than he thought possible and a belch gurgled in the back of his throat. He heaved, but nothing else came up.
âAh, Rin, Iâm so sorry. Please donât cry,â Osamu shushed him. Suna didnât even realize he was crying.
He continued heaving for what must have been an eternity before another painful gag jolted him forward and brought with it a torrent of pale vomit into the trash can. At least he didnât have to see everyoneâs discarded lunch anymore. Not that his new view was much prettier.
âThere ya, go Sunarin,â Osamu soothed. Suna sputtered and coughed, trying to catch his breath. His body was relentless though, and before he felt like he had sufficient oxygen, he was lurching forward with more forceful vomit pouring out of his mouth.
Sunaâs body didnât let up. It was stuck in a seemingly endless cycle of gasping breaths abruptly interrupted by a fountain of vomit forcing its way out. Eventually, he was just left heaving over the trash can, his stomach trying but failing to expel whatever might be left. Anxiety crawled up his spine and the room spun. He wanted to breathe, he really did. He just couldnât.
âFuck, Rin, breathe. Please,â Osamu demanded and his voice shattered through Sunaâs panic. He nodded and closed his eyes to try and collect himself. He inhaled through his nose and exhaled heavily through his mouth. A minute or two of that, and he was able to take in his surroundings again.
At some point, Osamu wrapped an arm around Sunaâs chest because apparently, his own arms gave out at some point and hung limply at his sides. He spit the residual nastiness out of his mouth and squinted up at Osamu.
âCan we leave?â he asked plainly. Osamu stared at him owlishly and then chuckled.
âItâs the middle of the day Rin, I canât justââ
âPlease?â he all but begged and grabbed Osamuâs arm. Osamu hesitated for the briefest of seconds before relenting with a heavy breath.
âYeah. Yeah, âcourse. Want me to call yer mom?â Osamu responded. He pulled out a handkerchief and wiped off Sunaâs face. Suna shook his head.
âIs it too much to ask if I can stay with you? I donât want to risk giving this to my little sister and grandma.â His voice was quieter than he wanted, but he was wiped out. He cleared his throat and spit in the trash can. He was fading fast. All he wanted was to curl up in bed and sleep whatever bug this was off.
âYeah okay. Iâll ask my Ma. Shouldnât be too much of an issue since Tsumuâs sick too.â Osamu pulled out his phone and massaged Sunaâs scalp. It felt so good that he leaned over and buried his face in Osamuâs stomach. If he wasnât careful, heâd fall asleep here. Hopefully Osamuâs mom would be okay with it and come quickly.
âMa, can you come pick me andâ no Iâm not sickâ well, if youâd just let me talk ya crazyâMa I do have a good reason to be callâ would ya stop talkinâyer damn right Iâm being disrespectfuâMa!â As Osamu argued with his mother over the phone (it was nothing new) Suna took inventory of his body.
There was no denying he was sick. That much was obvious. His head was pounding and his stomach still rolled and swirled uncomfortably. Shivers danced up and down his body, exacerbated by the sweat that coated his skin. He was sure that he had a fever. All of his limbs weighed him down and he didnât think he had any sort of energy to move them. It was taking all he had to stay awake right now.
âOsamu-san!â The girl from before returned, the school nurse right behind her.
âSuna Rintaro, you poor boy. Caught that bug going around, I see,â he heard the nurse and pulled his face away from Osamuâs body. Blinking a few times to clear his blurry vision, he sniffed and stared at the old lady in front of him.
She stuck a thermometer in his mouth without saying a word and pulled a water bottle out from her coat pocket. While they were waiting for his temperature, Suna glanced at Osamu, who was now leaning against the desk behind Sunaâs. His fingers pinched the bridge of his nose, his other still holding the phone to his ear as he continued listening to his mother rant.
Without thinking, Suna reached over and grabbed a hold of Samuâs shirt with one hand. Osamu looked down in surprise before his face softened and he put a hand on Sunaâs shoulder.
The thermometer beeped and Suna winced.
â38.7,â the nurse read and pursed her lips. She pulled out some medicine from her lab coat and gave some to Suna. He grimaced. Even in his hazy state, he knew putting something in his stomach wouldnât go over well.
âSuna-kun, you need to get that fever of yourâs down. I know itâs not ideal, but please try.â Suna turned his head away. She sighed.
âOkay, but make sure you take something at home. Does someone need to call your mother?â Before Suna could answer, Osamu interrupted.
âIâll take him maâam,â he said, apparently off the phone with his mother.
âOsamu-kun, donât you be thinking you can just skip out on school,â she warned.
âI would never,â Osamu charmed, âI think itâs the smartest move, ya see. Atsumu is at home with the same illness right now and so thereâs no way I ainât carrying the germs for it. Wouldnât it be safest if I go home too? Before I infect anyone else. And I can take Sunarin with me.â
The nurse gave him a skeptical look, but then glanced over at Suna. She noticed his grip on Osamuâs shirt and the formerâs hand firmly on Sunaâs back. It mustâve made Suna look pretty pathetic because she relented almost immediately.
âOh fine, fine. Does someone need to call your mom?â
âNo, maâam. Just got off the phone with her. Sheâll be here soon. Said sheâs got no problem taking Sunarin in âtil heâs all better.â He squeezed Sunaâs shoulder and Suna relaxed knowing he wasnât at risk of infecting his little sister or aging grandmother. He sighed and smiled gratefully at Osamu.
It was comforting to know that Osamu was going to be looking after him. Because, if the swirling in his stomach told him anything, he was in for a really long night.
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I'm not the greatest. I have had the longest. week. ever.
Last weekend, I started having some gross vaginal discharge that seemed to be infected and internal abdominal pain.
Well, I went to urgent care on Monday. Without doing any testing, they said it was probably an STI and treated me with a prescription for oral antibiotics and a super painful injection in my hip, which I had a pretty awful reaction to.
When I was at the store a few hours later grabbing some yogurt so I didn't get a yeast infection from the antibiotic, I bent over to grab something that fell out of the cart, and the pain got a lot worse. I had to rush into the bathroom to throw up. I thought this was the injection messing with me.
The pain got worse, and I got sicker over the course of the next 24 hours.
I called the urgent care clinic on Wednesday morning to see if I should come back in, and they told me they didn't have the equipment to assess me so I should go to the ER.
My husband dropped me off at the ER on Wednesday around 5:30PM. I figured I'd be done by 11 at the latest, and he could pick me up when he was done with D&D night.
I was quite wrong. I ended up being at the ER for over 11 miserable hours, and through a shift change near the end. The CAT scan they did a few hours after I arrived showed there was fluid in my abdominal cavity that should not have been there.
The doctor who saw me before he had them do an ultrasound said that he was going to prescribe an additional antibiotic and some pain medication, but it was likely an ovarian cyst or abscess that caused the fluid in my abdomen.
It took a couple hours for the ultrasound to be done because they were running behind, and there was a shift change. I never saw that doctor again. A nurse I'd never seen before came in and tried to quickly discharge me without even telling me what was wrong with me. She was annoyed I wanted her to go check the diagnosis.
She came back and said it said ovarian cyst. They did not prescribe me an additional antibiotic or any pain medication, like the doctor said they would. They gave me an anti-nausea medication that I previously told them I couldn't take because of a potentially deadly reaction with one of my daily psychiatric maintenance meds, telling me it was "fine," and also something for bowel spasms that I looked up and would never be used for treatment for an ovarian cyst.
I was so angry and frustrated that I couldn't stop crying for quite some time.
The discharge paperwork from Thursday said I'm supposed to see an ob/gyn within 3-5 days. I'll call around on Monday to see if anyone can get me in, as little as I want to see another medical professional.
I seriously want a pretty British boy to talk softly to me and gently cuddle me.
Oh my god, I'm so so so sorry to hear that Mel! I hope you get the diagnosis and treatment you need asap. It's infuriating how these constant changes in hospitals happen. And I hope you get lots and lots of comfort during these times đđđ
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Life Narrative
This is how a body dies: the body first conserves the heart, lungs and brain so it starts to spare the things that arenât important. The first is the blood to your hands and feet and other extremities. Then the kidneys shut down. You lose your appetite and your blood pressure drops. Your heart rate increases and the body temperatures drop.
I didnât understand how close I was to death until I learned this. The surgeons said I had about twelve more hours before I lost my leg completely or lost my life.
In middle April of 2021 I woke up on a Monday morning at 5:25AM for weight training. Itâs normal, as a collegiate swimmer, for my body to hurt. For my muscles to feel strained, pulled and fatigued. So when I moved my right leg and felt a pain almost like a pulled groin I didnât think much of it. I skipped out on anything during weights that might irritate or strain it more and thought nothing less.
Tuesday morning I went to work. My back always hurts after standing for a long time. I have a habit of choosing fashion over comfort and instead of wearing the shoes I specifically bought to stand on for eight hours I went for my Air Forces that morning. About three hours of making coffee later I could barely stand. My leg hurt every time I took a step and my back felt like it was killing me. After four hours of making coffee I passed out and had a friend pick me up from work.
Iâve always been a healthy person. Iâve been swimming for eleven years and am always raved over by doctors because of my low resting heart rate and rarely ever getting sick. My mental health was a different story; Iâve been seeing psychologists and psychoanalysts since I was seven years old. My freshman year had not been easy on me and to cope I turned to bad and old habits. I was ultimately very unhappy with my life and what was supposed to be a year of growth. To add a serious illness felt like the last straw but I chalked it up to a bad groin strain and stress sickness.
By Thursday I called my mom. I couldnât keep any food down, was seriously dehydrated, had to switch between getting in a scalding hot shower and sitting face first in front of a fan because my body temperature was fluctuating so much and I could barely walk without crying. She picked me up and took me to urgent care where they could tell there was some type of infection in my groin but didnât have the technology to tell what. Next stop was the ER where they gave me antibiotics and told me it was cellulitis, an infection of the skin.
Feeling a little better because of the mild pain killer I slept for about two hours before waking up freezing cold. I hopped in the shower to warm up and immediately threw up. At this point I couldnât keep even water down which meant I for sure couldnât keep antibiotics down. My groin had swollen to the size of a baseball and I thought this is what dying must feel like.
We went back to the emergency room the next morning and they admitted me just to monitor and give me IV antibiotics. The next week is a haze but I could feel it getting worse. I was on enough pain meds to supply a pharmacy just to get through a couple hours of sleep. I remember how they weighed me at some point and I had gained thirty pounds because my kidneys were failing and I wasnât releasing any of the liquid in the three IV drips I was constantly connected to. I remember them doing an ultra sound on my now softball sized and blistered groin and how my sister had to leave the room to throw up because I couldnât control the sounds I was making from the pain of a plastic tool being pushed into my leg. I remember my dad telling me that the best dream he ever had was under anesthesia about fly fishing and he hoped I had a dream that made me happy right before they took me into surgery.
The plan was to make three small incisions in my swollen leg to see what was wrong but they ended up taking a plate sized chunk of tissue out of my leg all the way down to the muscle. What they found was necrotizing fasciitis commonly known as flesh eating bacteria. I was lucky because twelve more hours and I would have been flown to Denver if the infection was in my muscle or blood stream. I narrowly avoided a life without a right leg or possibly death.
I spent another week in the hospital before they sent me home. Three weeks later and I had a skin graft done. Five weeks after that, I was cleared for all physical activity. The recovery was fairly easy and Iâm blessed with what was the best case scenario. But I wanted to get back as soon as I could to the life I had been living.
Youâd think that you would be scared of death and change your life after being so close to dying but in my head I was immortal and nothing could touch me. I went back to drinking too much and choosing unhealthy coping mechanisms. They say it takes six to nine months to work through trauma at the minimum but Iâve barely started scratching the surface.
This story doesnât really have an ending. Physically Iâm healthy and back to normal but Iâm faced with a decision I have to make. Do I start focusing on whatâs important and turn my life around and take this as a fresh start or do I continue what Iâve always done with my life? This seems like an easy decision but youâd be surprised how hard it is for me to take action and take care of myself. My sister once told me how scary it was that I almost died and still had no regard for taking care of my health or well being.
I have no plan of action. Iâm stuck in purgatory between two decisions not really doing anything for or against myself. For now, purgatory is better than hell.
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