#just got screamed at Again that my blood sugar was extremely low and i tested and its 150. that's literally high

[serkonans]

paying $75 for these dumb sensors........... the pharmaceutical field is evil

[19thcenturyedgelord]

TW: Transphobia, Homophobia, abuse, neglect, p3dophilia, s3xual assault, su!cide, alcohol

~Vent~

My mother is constantly saying that they is only two gender and is always dead naming me, the one time I get her to say my preferred name she rolls her eyes and scoffs as she says it.

My mother has told me my whole life that she owns me and that I don't get to make any decisions for myself, she was dressing me until I was disowned at 14.

My mother would threaten to k!ll herself is I ever did something she didn't like, this includes: having a panic attack, dealing with over stimulation, trying to dress myself, telling her to stop walking in on me while I was showering/changing, going to bed early, going to bed late, saying I was hungry, asking to be allowed to go outside, wearing my headphones, not being strictly christian/not eating kosher, ect.

My mother got rid of my pet hermit crabs without telling me and was constantly trying to release my turtles even though they would die in the wild and they were being taken care of very well with a large, clean tank and plenty of food and hiding places, a special light that was good for their shell, and a great water to land ratio.

My mother slut shamed me because I was wearing shorts that went above my knees (they were perfectly appropriate btw).

My mother would scream at me for hours if I got anything less than a 100% on a test and even if I did get a 100% she would ask me why I didn't get any extra credit even if there was none available and even if I'd did get extra credit she would ask why I didn't get MORE extra credit.

While I lived with my mother I had a diet of nothing but microwave meals and chips and chips because she spent all of her money on vape, cigarettes, and alcohol. I would constantly be near unconsciousness due to my low blood sugar because I had nothing to eat.

She has slapped me across the face multiple times, one time with sharp plastic that cut my chin, she did this as a punishment. One time she slapped me because my blood sugar was low and I was grumpy, this is how it went down:

Me: Hey I know you wanna talk right now but can I make some food first my blood sugar is low this should take me 20 minutes max"

Her: No, I'm you mother and your going to talk to me right now

Me: Can I please just get something to eat

Her: *yells at me wich causes me to get distracted*

Me: *spills uncooked mac&cheese because distracted*

Her: *yells at me then slaps me across the face*

My mother nearly beat me to unconsciousness because she was very drunk, I had bruises all over me the next morning but I was to afraid to say anything because I new she would scream at me and hurt me more.

She molested me daily, forced me to change in front of her, forcefully spooned me in bed for hours even after I said no, and would "playfully" spank me.

She was constantly talking about how sexy a 17 year old at her work was and even bought him vape. She would also talk about some of my friends like that and even tried to internet stalk two of them, we are all minors.

She would lock the door to the apartment and wouldn't give me a key and would force me to wait outside in knee deep snow for hours without any warm clothing because she stole it all. She also refused to drive me to school in -8 degree (f) weather because she didn't want to loose her parking spot. I was also forced to bike to and from band practice (with she forced me to to do because she wanted to live through me) in 30 degree (f) with heavy rain because she didn't want to loose her parking spot.

She would consistently make fun of me for reading or doing anything that I enjoyed because I was a "nerd" and a "looser"

She disowned me after she stole my phone, went through it and found out I was a lesbian.

I couldn't even go into my yard without telling her where I was going, if I didn't tell her I would be screamed at and not allowed out my room, for a day and then not allowed out of the house for two more weeks.

She routinely went through my phone and my belongings without my permission, knowledge, or consent, in case I had anything "suspicious".

I tried moving in with my dad and she sued him.

She stole my most prized pokemon cards, a bag, most of my clothes, all of my old toys, and over $200 from my in the span of two weeks.

My room didn't have a door and she positioned herself so that she had to go through my room to get anywhere else in the house.

She would frequently lock the bathroom door so that it was only accessable from her room.

I told her I like pop music and she called me a failure then continued to play her extremely s3xual, vulgar, music about dr*gs, alcohol, and r@pe.

From the time I was 8 she tried to force me to drink alcohol because its "cool"

She forcefully pushed me against a wall because I refused to give her a hug after she made an offensive joke and I called her out for it.

She screamed at me because I corrected her after she misgendered me.

I had to learn morse code just so I could speak to my friends without her knowing what I was saying.

When I started counseling because I wanted to k!ll myself and because I was having upwards and 15-25 panic attacks per day, she forced me to tell her everything that happened in counseling even if I didn't want to.

She always gangs up on me in fights but if I try to get back up she just yells at me more.

She refused to take me to the hospital when I had a concussion and forced me to go to school all week even though I could barely stand or speak and now I have verbal and motor tics which she makes fun of.

She would scream at me because I sit down in the shower even though I have arthritis. (Yes I have arthritis at 15, it runs in the family and before to long I might develop psoriasis, I have shitty genes)

I wasn't allowed to wear anything that revealed my shoulders, that was low cut, shower any part of my stomach or back, short that went above my knees, ect.

I wasn't allowed to get my hair cut below my chin because it " wasn't feminine enough"

I wasn't allowed to have anything that was "for boys" this included clothes, toys, books, stickers, blankets, posters, movies, ect.

She forced me to watch R rated movies with her even if I didn't feel comfortable watching them.

I wasn't allowed to have any friends over and I wasn't allowed to go to any friends house, the one time I did have friends over she judged all of them and tried me to stop hanging out with them after they left. My friends are all very good people and are the only reason I'm still alive rn, she was just mad that I was talking to people who weren't her.

She screamed at she because I got one (1) drop of dark green ink on her black coffee table that she got for free.

I wasn't allowed to draw any male characters because she was afraid I would get off to them or something idk (this was before I was forcefully outed)

She bought me a triple chocolate cake for my birthday once. I'm allergic to chocolate. She forgot my birthday the next year.

Anytime I would tell her about the terrible bullying that was going on she would tell me to get over it, even after I had been thrown to the ground and strangled by one of my classmates.

If I got into a new game or hobby she would either take it away or shame me for playing it.

She spent all day on the computer playing Sims 3 to the point where I had to feed myself, take care of myself, and play by myself as young as 5.

She screamed at me because while talking about Pokemon lore I mentioned how Arceus is the god of the Pokemon world and she said I shouldn't say that because it would "make god mad" ( I have nothing against christians or christianity btw, just the people who shove it down your throat like she does)

I wasn't allowed to eat or drink the last of anything (finishing a bag of chips, taking the last soda, ect.) If I did she would scream at me and slap me as punishment.

She threatened to forbid me form seeing my cousin (who for the first 11 years of my life was my only friend) if I ever "talked back" to her.

She wod frequently strangle me as a form of "tough love".

When I was 2 she tried to teach me how to swim by holding me under water over and over again, drowning is now one of my greatest fears. Luckily I did learn to swim with the help of cousin and granny and even enjoy swimming but it is hard for me to do things like wash my face in the shower or stay under water for more than a few seconds without panicking.

She never taught me how to cook but then would scream at me because I didn't know how to cook.

Her smoking inside and while driving has caused me to have some lung issues, she denies that she ever smoked near me.

She tried to take me away frome everyone in my life including my family and friends so that I could only spend time with her.

When I was in fifth grade she homeschooled me and forced me to do college lever reading, learn how to code, learn at least two other languages that weren't english, learn how to play guitar, do gymnastics, do jujitsu (japanese), do soccer, learn to sing (keep I mind I had no interest in music, but she did), do a digital homeschooling program set at a highschool level, and learn a bunch of useless skills like knot tying and making friendship bracelets because it was "feminine". This was in FIFTH FUCKING GRADE.

We didn't have a washer or dryer and she would never go to to town to get laundry done so I never had clean clothes.

If I had more that $10 I had to give the rest to her.

She tried to kidnap me once.

One time on accident I stood in a bull ant hill and got stung all over (if you don't know ants all sting at once), I was swollen all over and screaming in pain and she did nothing, not even give me ice or ointment, she just told me to be more careful.

[katsukikitten]

The fact your ask box says "love" makes me swoon over (◍•ᴗ•◍) Could I have yandere!Shinsou Hitoshi with a darling who forgets that he needs a lot of attention sometimes? Maybe she's in the support course and is worse than Mei and works 24/7?? Love the shigaraki x yandere reader and the content you post(人 •͈ᴗ•͈)

Oh thank you so much bb!! I'm glad you enjoy my content. That shigi post was actually my very first yandere piece! Have a nice background of your papi that I made! Um also it implies a little bit of smut please forgive me.

Cool cat eyes rove over your form as icy rage stirs in a normally empty chest. The gaze goes wholly unnoticed by you as you work day in and day out in the cramped, too hot lab with a much too friendly male partner.

He grits his teeth, nails biting into his palms as you yet again stand him up for what is normally your meeting time. 9pm.

Sharp.

Or there would be consequences, heavy consequences.

He tried to be understanding of your need to work long hours on your project for the upcoming university festival but to miss an appointment for the sixth week in a row, on top of working through your lunch break was entirely unacceptable.

He knew that you wouldn't know what was best for your health as he watches your tank top rise up much too high for his liking as you teetered on the top rung of the ladder. Rage blooming in his chest but never his features as he watches through the large window.

Eyes glued to the white lollipop stick that hangs from your mouth, tongue moving the sweetened candy from one side to the other. He does not need to be in the room to hear the sound of the hardened sugar clatter against bone.

His cock twitches as his eyes drink in the sight of you pulling it out, a small string of cherry red saliva connect to your darkened tongue and the pop before it breaks.

His eyes fly to the beta male in the room, who stares and tries not to palm himself.

The amethyst haired man begins to see red as he swallows thickly, reminding himself that murder is frowned upon among upcoming heros.

Still, what the fuck were you thinking darling? Wearing your cut off denim shorts that ride up the curvature of your ass, that he always, always always dicks you down in. Paired with a much too tight and much too low tanktop that shows off the tops of your breasts and lacy bralette.

"Imma head out Y/N!" The overly friendly asshole calls out to which you barely hum in his direction, meanwhile his eyes are glue to your ass as you reach higher.

Shinsou's fingers twitch at the thought of a thick column beneath them, pressing into tender flesh until bruises bloom in the shape of his palm and long digits.

Until that ever fragile larynx is crushed beneath the weight of his ire, of the onlookers audacity to even glance at what clearly does not belong to them.

Were the fucking blind? Did they not see the intricately woven eggplant rope that sat snuggly around your throat with a midnight purple pansy dangling from the front.

Did they think you wore it for fun?

No, darling, you wore it so other's would know.

But maybe you weren't educating them enough.

The moon rises high in the sky as time paces quickly for you but slowly for him as eyes remained fixated on the one thing he has ever given the time of day. The only thought that ever runs for his head long enough that it makes his heart flutter instead of the normal languid beats.

You

Youyouyouyouyouyouyouyou

YOU.

His heart pounds in his chest as another hour slips by as you tinker on that project.

That fucking project that he tries so hard to remind himself is what will help define your career, carve the path to greatness you deserve.

But you watch you so absorbed as you pop, yet another lollipop into your mouth, probably running off of the sugar alone, his stiff body is beginning to beg him to move.

Especially so as your phone lights up with his text, going forgotten on the desk as the upper half of your body is bent over inside of your giant mechanical project.

Your ass on display in front of the whole window, in a lab with great lighting but no survalence cameras and doors that are either always unlocked or can be picked easily.

A rare growl leaves his throat as anger gets the best of him. Feet finally uprooting his rigid body to stalk after you.

He tries the front door to the lab and as he thought it is unlocked.

He cool handle gives way to his command as his twists, pushing it open before shutting it quietly. Repeating the process until he reaches your door.

A keypad for "extra security".

"What a fucking joke." He scoffs to himself as he let's his fingers dance over the obviously worn keys figuring out the combination as the others look brand new. The door beeps a flashing green and he wonders if it will alert you. When it doesn't he shuts it softly behind him and waits.

Twenty minutes.

Twenty minutes your peach was in the air for all to fantasize over causing him to grind his teeth.

And the worst part that he spies is that you don't even have fucking headphones in to excuse the fact that you could not hear your phone.

Hear the door.

Or hear him.

He thinks to grab one of your many disorganized tools to tap against the table to grab your attention but he cannot trust himself that he won't make said tool a permanent fixture on the dark wood top.

His eyes flicker to you as you're reaching, again, for something just out of your reach instead of moving the damn ladder.

Here you stood top of your class and would be top of the OSHA violations.

The ladder tips too far in one direction causing you to jerk instinctively in the opposite direction over correcting causing the metal to slip beneath your converse.

This was it, this was how you went. Your project a few bolts and a test from completion only for you to lie motionless with either a twisted neck or in a puddle of your own quickly cooling blood.

You squeeze your eyes shut, damning yourself for having such a small useless quirk before you feel a set of strong arms catch you. An extremely familiar scent wafts of sandalwood and lilac waft your nose before your eyes snap open.

The world outside of your machine finally giving in to gravity as you fall head first from the clouds.

Staring up at cool, unforgiving eyes has your heart pounding agaisnt your sternum, demanding to be let go.

With the look he is serving isn't out of the ordinary for him considering he always has RFB. But you see it. The small difference, the rage burning deep beneath that icy glare, the twitch of his lip and the harsh grip on your arm as pads of capable fingers dig into your frame.

A large part of you wishes you had just fell. Just snapped your neck clean in two on impact.

As anything was going to be better than what was about to come to you.

Fuck what time was it?

What day was it?

Seconds of silence fly by before your stunning brain finally catches up with your body.

"Wha..what are you doing here Shin-kun." You stammer as he screams the answer with his seemingly bored gaze.

You're late! In all caps from amethyst eyes.

You subconsciously finger the ceramic petals of your necklace.

"Its only eight thirty! I have half an hour still." You plead, honestly have no concept of time. Having lived in the lab for the past three days.

"Try again." He says coolly causing your stomach to fill with chaotic butterflies. His tone carrys with it hints of venom causing you to gulp. When you cannot answer he openly clenches his jaw.

"It's almost one thirty in the morning darling." Fear seizes your bones, freezes your muscles until you're as stiff as a board. Your eyes flicker between the two loves of your life, the blueprint come to life in the form of honed metal and him.

He who you promised you wouldn't neglect, he who you promised you wouldn't neglect yourself either.

He sure would take once glance at you, hair matted and thrown in a messy bun, white tank top stained with oil and grease, having had nothing to eat save black coffee and endless bags of various kinds of lollipops. Whatever the hell brand your lab mate brought in really.

And then there was his literally saving you from death.

It was busy for the two of you to meet and by the looks of his civilian clothes he might have possibly taken time off.

Oh.

Oh no.

Is written all over your face as his screams the opposite.

Oh.

Oh yes.

You knew exactly what he was thinking, what his next moves were as the scarves around his throat seemed to move on their own accord.

Your core and stomach tighten as the rough fabric weave around your wrists and ankles all the while your heart and mind scream for you to run.

Who knew when you'd be able to leave the confines of his large penthouse apartment. Barely able to sit on the balcony on his roughest days.

Panic overrides your desire to be held captive. To give in to his every demand and be safely locked away in his tower.

"W...wait wait...." Glistening eyes soley fixated on the metal, "I..I'm almost done. I can finish t...tonight!"

He stares down at you for a long moment debating if he should just take you anyway.

If he should steal you away to a place he knows you'll be properly cared for.

Nourished.

But smelling the desperation that comes off of you in waves has his stomach twisting and his hero heart yelling at him to do the right thing.

Suddenly your redden wrists are free as the strips of fabric find themselves neatly settled around his neck once again.

"Fine." Your heart soars as he sets you to your feet. Implying what you had hoped he would allow all along.

You were close. So fucking close to being done, to needing a session of being locked away in his care for awhile.

But this had to be done first before you became his princess once more.

He pulls up a stool to watch you, perching atop it like a swishing tailed cat. Eyes lazily half open but undeniably focused as you hesitantly got into the mindset of working again. His gaze and smirk carry some malice as he speaks, your attention wholly on him a final time.

"But after tonight you're going to be with me for awhile darling ."

[gemmabetes-blog]

Diabetes Why?

Hello everyone! I‘m back for a little catch up. Been a while since I’ve posted and that’s been due to two things:

I’ve had no time to just sit and write for weeks now

I’ve also had a bit of writer’s block

But I’ve decided to bundle a few smaller topics into one and update you all with how I’ve coped this last month or so.

One of the things I wanted to discuss was the struggle when sugar’s run high. I have previously posted about hypos, but just as horrendous as it is to feel as though your cells are vibrating, it is also horrible to experience being high - known as being ‘hyper’ and a common misconception is that being hyper is like being hyper-active and experiencing a sugar rush where you’re practically up the walls, but that couldn’t be further from the truth.

In saying that, it is probably far easier for a non-diabetic to imagine the symptoms of a high blood sugar than a low blood sugar, and that’s because you’ll be familiar with some of the symptoms (although probably not all at the same time). Here’s a non-exhaustive list of some of the symptoms experienced when sugar’s run high:

A mouth like the Sahara (“Because waiting for [a good reading] is like waiting for rain in this draught” - Hilary Duff spoke to me on a diabetic/spiritual level with that one)

Needing to pee every two minutes (honestly you get a right workout climbing the stairs to the loo that often)

Thirst (drink, pee, drink, pee…)

Sometimes I’m hungry (this is the most annoying type of hunger as you probably shouldn’t eat)

Exhaustion/Fatigue (making the stair-climbing even more difficult)

If I had to compare symptoms, I would probably say that being hypo (low) feels worse, however, being high has a much more significant impact mentally. Seeing a high blood sugar is extremely disheartening and it’s also worrying. As a diabetic you’re well versed in the problems you can face should your sugars get out of control, including dialysis, amputation and blindness. Every single time I see a high blood sugar pop up on that little machine, this fear shoots through me, because things like dialysis are a very real threat if your sugar is constantly out of control. It is very difficult when anyone (particularly a non-diabetic or a know-it-all doc) tells you that “all you need to do is…”, because it is far more difficult than simply changing a part of your diet.

As the weather has become increasingly warmer, my control has had to change. I’ve reduced my Levimir (this is my background insulin) from 10 units at night and 4 units in the morning to 9 units at night only. However, I have now noticed that my sugar is much more up and down than it was. After I eat my sugar spikes up to the high-teens and then drops down to either in-range or hypo, so my ratios are correct, but I definitely need another dose of Levimir throughout the day to prevent my sugars from spiking up so high initially. For this I’ll probably adjust to 9u at night and 3u in the morning. BUT in better news, I have figured out that I need exactly 2u of NovoRapid (fast acting insulin) for a magnum #SummerSorted!

I’ve not had a great experience with consultants or most of the medical staff I’ve met since being diabetic, not to say I haven’t met some amazing doctors or nurses, but overall the experience has been largely negative. So I’ve grown accustomed to attempting to understand my diabetes by myself and not relying too much on my consultants. I have found that DAfNE has been a blessing in this case though, as at least I have something to refer to when I’m not sure about things.

But in a more positive light, as a wonderful birthday present, I got to see Ed Sheeran perform at the O2 a couple weeks ago! Myself and my best friend Abbey went and it was absolutely wonderful. It was the first concert I went to that was standing (and my legs were broken for the next three days) so naturally I had a few diabetic worries: What if I went hypo? Will they let me in with an orange juice? (particularly so soon after the Manchester attacks, the security was much higher) What if my sugar was high and I needed the toilet? (we had great places so that would’ve been pretty annoying). So before we set off I packed an orange juice (henceforth referred to as an OJ) and some glucotabs just in case. The first set of security guys didn’t seem to see my OJ, so that was the first obstacle out of the way, but then there was more security before we went in and it was more thorough. Fuuuuuuuuck sake. I just said to the woman “I have a carton of OJ in there but I’m diabetic so I need it, is that okay?” and she just said “I didn’t see anything” and moved me on (thank you security lady!) Before we’d even left I had a hypo, which I overcorrected, and so I shot up to about 21 as we were eating our nandos, but I didn’t correct it. Thankfully I didn’t, because towards the end of the opening act’s performance, I dropped to around 4 and that arrow of doom was telling me I was going straight down, I thought “please no not now”. I downed the OJ and on later testing I’d dropped more, so I stuffed down some glucotabs (thank the lord I got in with both) and got my sugar to about 6. Following a lot of jumping and screaming, my sugars steadied around 5/6 and I had the occasional glucotab just to be sure. Thankfully this kept me going but I reckon all would’ve been fine had I not had the earlier hypo. But the experience has given me much more confidence in handling my diabetes whilst standing at a concert - hopefully I’ll eventually get to festival level, as that is another goal of mine.

Ed!

It would really be lovely to feel like a 22 year old who can go to a concert or a festival or travel halfway across the world and not concern herself with the stress of diabetes and what will happen if I’m hypo or if I run out of hypo treatments. Or even to worry about how big of a bag I’ll have to bring to carry around so many hypo treatments with me. I see people my age travelling across the world and they’re out exploring all day, and go into the night without having to think about things like is their insulin cool enough? Do they have enough testing strips? Have they adjusted their insulin correctly to climb a massive hill and walk around all day because that was a last minute decision? I would love to be in a position where I had my diabetes well enough controlled that something like that wouldn’t stress me out, but I can’t at this stage. As I’ve said since starting this blog, I want to be honest, open and explore the emotional impact that living with diabetes has, and unfortunately these worries come with the package. It can feel extremely unfair at times but it’s just the way my life is and complaining about how unfair it is won’t help me live with it and won’t help me achieve my goals.

So apologies for my very delayed blog post, but in some ways it’s a good thing - my life is in a good place right now and it’s certainly kept me busy, however I will continue to post as often as I can. Again, if you have any comments or suggestions (especially suggestions - please help me with my writers block!) please let me know!

Love,

Gems

[lopithecusfanfiction]

A Life So Changed: Chapter Twenty-Seven

Author: Lopithecus Pairing: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne Rating: Explicit Word Count: 2747 Alternate: AO3, fanfiction.net Author's Note: Just as a warning, this chapter is kind of graphic in the beginning because… you know… fear toxin.

Chapter Twenty-Seven:

Blood. There’s blood everywhere. Bodies are piled up in the room. The stench is nauseating. The air is acrid. Bruce’s heart pounds in his chest wildly, his sweat drips down into his eyes, and he can’t breathe in enough air. His limbs are shaking and there are tears rolling down his cheeks, combining with the sweat drops there. The bodies that are piled on the floor are the bodies of his loved ones; Alfred, Dick, Tim, and Damian. Jason is there too, getting beat up by the Joker, his fifteen-year-old screams echoing in Bruce’s ears.

“Stop,” he begs the Joker and the clown only laughs, bringing the crowbar down again to strike Jason in the head. The fifteen-year-old screams once more. “Stop!” Bruce wrenches forward but is stopped by some force. He looks up and sees his wrists are bound to the ceiling by vines. It must be Poison Ivy. She and the Joker must be working together.

“Brucie,” someone says in a singsong voice and then there is a monster standing in front of him. It’s an ugly thing with grey skin and protrusions all over its body. The teeth are sharp and stick out of its mouth, drool running down the thing’s chin. “How are you feeling, Brucie?”

Bruce wrenches at the vines again to no avail and Jason screams once more. “Stay away from me.”

“Oh come on, Brucie, don’t you want to say something to the camera?” The monster laughs and points at something. When Bruce looks, all he sees are snakes with glowing eyes that are watching him intently. “All the people of Gotham can see you now, Brucie.”

He hears gurgling and looks around the monster to Jason’s beaten body. “Jason!” The boy is dying, he can tell, and the Joker laughs.

“What do you say Ol’ Bats? How about we kill the brat right here and now?” The Joker pulls a gun out of his purple jacket.

“No! Leave him alone, you sick son of a bitch!”

The Joker only cackles and aims the gun. “Bruce… save me…” Jason coughs up blood, looking him straight in the eyes.

“I’m trying,” he says as he feels more tears and sweat drip down his face. “I’m trying.” He pulls on the vines again, still to no use. Then the loud, deafening bang sounds and he watches as a hole is ripped through his son’s chest from the bullet. “No! Jason!” He glares at Joker, his heartrate spiking even more. Somewhere deep, deep in his mind he thinks that if he doesn’t get his pulse under control, he could have a heart attack. But he can’t concentrate on that small little voice. Not when he had just witnessed the Joker murdering his son. “I’m going to kill you!” He spits out, pulling as hard as he can. He doesn’t budge.

“Poor, poor Brucie. I wonder what he is seeing right now,” the monster says but not to him. He says it to the snakes and they hiss as if they are laughing at him. “At this rate, that poor baby he has there isn’t going to survive the fear he is feeling.”

Bruce’s eyes widen and his breath hitches in his throat. He slowly looks down at himself, to between his legs, and his heart stops at what he sees. Blood has soaked through his pants and is dripping down his legs. Bruce starts to hyperventilate, his heart going a mile a minute. “No,” he says quietly at first but then louder. “No. Help me. Please,” he begs the two monsters in the room. “Help.”

The one monster who has been talking up to now howls. “Not until your family pays the ransom.”

Bruce looks back to the bodies on the floor. How are they supposed to pay a ransom when they are dead? What kind of ransom do such monstrous beings want? Again, he looks down at himself and when he sees the blood still there and only getting worse, he sobs. “Please don’t let my baby die.” He can’t breathe, his chest hurts, and he’s hot and shaking.

“Now, now Bats.” The Joker walks up to him. “Your baby is here and fine.” Bruce looks at what the Joker is holding and immediately throws up at seeing it. He’s holding a new born baby girl who has no clothes on and is extremely pale. There is blood all over the baby with some dripping out of her mouth. The eyes stare lifelessly up at the ceiling. “Would you like to hold her?” Joker asks with a snort that turns into a convulsing cackle. Bruce throws up again.

He hangs his head, tears dripping out of his eyes and he is coughing due to the lack of oxygen combined with the vomit. “Stop,” he whimpers. “Please stop.”

Suddenly, a loud crash is heard and when Bruce looks up, Joker is gone and is replaced with a flying creature with glowing red eyes. The thing growls and attacks the two monsters, the things shrieking in fear and trying to scramble away. It doesn’t take long for the creature to finish them off by ripping their hearts out and turn its attention onto Bruce.

It walks closer to him slowly and Bruce pulls at the vines desperately. “Stay away!”

“Mister Wayne, it’s Superman.”

“Stay the fuck away from me!” he screams, wrenching his wrists until they sting with the action, the thorns on the vines digging into his flesh even more. He feels the blood drip down his arms but he still pulls. Finally, with one last effort, the vines give way and Bruce stumbles backwards, falling to the floor. “Get back!”

The creature kneels in front of him as Bruce tries to scramble away. But his arms and hands are numb, poison from the thorns most likely, and so he doesn’t get far. “Bruce.”

The creature reaches out towards him and Bruce slaps the clawed hand away. “Don’t touch me.” His eyes dart back to his family’s bodies, to Jason, and then lastly to the baby’s. He crumbles and sobs loudly, hiccups coming in between his struggles to breathe.

“Shh.” The creature crawls closer, bringing his hand up and holding something shiny. He sticks it into Bruce’s arm and Bruce pushes away but the creature has a hold of him now. “Shh, it’s okay. It was just a sedative. It’ll make you sleep.” Bruce continues to struggle to get out of the creature’s grasp but can’t seem to budge it. It must have super strength then. “It’s going to be okay, Bruce. I’ve got you.”

Bruce’s breathing slowly calms down and his heart stops beating so rapidly. His shaking stops and so does his crying, his eyes getting heavy. When he looks around groggily, he sees he is in the air. A spike of panic flashes in his chest but the arms that are carrying him tighten. Bruce looks up. The creature is flying him somewhere but he’s too sleepy to do much about it. He struggles to keep his eyes open, his instincts telling him to not fall asleep when in the enemy’s arms, but it’s a losing battle. He finds himself drifting off and soon, the world falls away from his consciousness.

*~~~*

Bruce wakes with a start, heart pounding in his chest. He tries to sit up but hands on his chest push him back down. He struggles against them but the hands are stronger than he is. Bruce panics, opening his mouth to yell at whomever or whatever is holding him to let go. But then he hears a familiar voice, soothing and low. “Bruce, Bruce, it’s okay. It’s me, Clark.”

He looks to the side and sees Clark sitting there, concerned look on his face. “Clark?”

Clark smiles shyly at him. “Hey, how are you feeling?”

Bruce’s heart is still pounding a mile a minute. “I’m sure you know.”

Clark shrugs and then nods, biting his bottom lip. “They gave you the fear toxin antidote but it hasn’t taken full affect yet. You shouldn’t hallucinate anymore at least.”

Bruce nods, his heart spiking. “Fear toxin.” He swallows, feeling tears swell in his eyes, worry overcoming him. “The baby?”

“It’s… too early to tell but the doctors are running tests.”

Bruce’s heart sinks and the overwhelming fear bubbles back up inside. “Can you look at her? Listen to her?” He blinks and the tears roll down his cheeks. “Please Clark.”

Clark nods and his eyes travel to Bruce’s stomach, concentration furrowing his brows. Soon, they raise and Clark’s eyes meet his once more. “She looks and sounds fine to me but Bruce, I’m not a doctor.” Bruce nods and bites his bottom lip, trying to overcome the fear he is feeling. The only problem is, even with his immense amount of training it’s no use against fear toxin. “Bruce, she’s half Kryptonian. I’m sure she’ll be fine.”

“I don’t want to lose her Clark.”

Clark grabs a hold of his hand and squeezes gently. “I know and I don’t want to either. But there’s nothing more we can do right now.”

Bruce nods again, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes. “I know. I’m just… I’m scared.” Clark squeezes his hand a second time. “Those two men that took me, what did you do to them?”

“Well, they were threatening not only my best friend but also the omega carrying my child. What did you think I did to them?” Clark says with a slight, angry growl that is directed towards the two kidnappers.

“I saw you kill them,” Bruce says quietly at first and then opens his eyes, looking Clark in his. “I saw you kill them.”

Clark’s eyes widen and he shakes his head. “No, I definitely didn’t kill them. I wanted to but I knew that was just my alpha instincts directing me. I only knocked them out by beating them up… badly. I think they are going to be in the hospital for a while but they’ll live.”

“And the news?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t been watching it. All I do know is that there are some news stations parked out front of this building,” Clark says.

Bruce is about to respond when the door to his hospital room opens, causing Bruce to jump. Clark immediately lets go of Bruce’s hand, clearing his throat. “Okay, one coffee for Clark. Dude, I know I already said this but you take a lot of sugar in yours. Are you sure you don’t just like the taste of th-” Dick stops mid-sentence, eyes snapping to Bruce. “Oh, Bruce, you’re awake.”

Dick walks fully into the room and Jason, Tim, Damian, and Alfred follow suit. Clark clears his throat again, getting up from the chair. He takes his coffee. “Thanks Dick.”

Damian approaches his bed. “How are you feeling Father?”

“Um… better.” He eyes Clark who is now avoiding eye contact.

“So, is that all those two guys wanted? A ransom?” Tim asks, sitting in the chair that Clark had previously occupied.

Bruce looks away from Clark and to his son. He shrugs. “That’s all they told me before they drugged me. They liked the fact that I was pregnant.”

“Yeah, about that,” Jason begins, leaning on the far wall. “The public knows about that now. You’re not going to be able to hide it anymore.”

Bruce nods in understanding. “But you had a contingency plan for this right?” Dick asks. “You always have one.”

“Not always,” he says. “And I don’t have one for this. Not a completed one at least. I have been thinking about it though.”

Tim takes a sip of his coffee. “And what did you come up with?”

Bruce is about to answer when, once again, the door to his room opens and reveals the doctor. “Hello, Mister Wayne. I’m Doctor Ansley.” They shake hands. “I’ve been going over your test results for you and your baby. The antidote seems to be working very well.” Bruce didn’t expect anything different. After all, he’s been dosing himself with variations of the fear toxin antidote for years now, having to accommodate every time Scarecrow changed the formula. “Though you will feel some effects of the toxin for a few more hours at the least. However, I don’t see any permanent damage made by it on you or the baby. I will make sure to let your obstetrician know, though, that way he can keep a look out for any signs of the toxin having affected your baby during your checkups.” She jots some things down on a clipboard. “You’ll be released in about an hour after the antidote has had time to work a little more. Other than that, you and your baby are perfectly fine.” She smiles at him and despite the toxin, Bruce feels relieved. “I suggest you get some rest in the meantime.” Doctor Ansley looks around the room at everyone. “That means everyone must go, I’m afraid.” She then leaves herself, giving them all time to say goodbye.

They all nod and then turn to Bruce. “Hey, we’ll see you later, okay Bruce?” Dick says, patting Bruce’s legs. Bruce nods.

“Don’t worry, Father, I will take care of those annoying paparazzi outside,” Damian says as he raises his fist.

Tim places a hand on the young child’s shoulder. “I’ll take care of them, Bruce.” Damian glowers at Tim, sticking his tongue out at the omega. “Get better soon, Bruce.”

Jason and Alfred nod their farewells and then they all leave. Clark lingers, shuffling on his feet, and looking to the floor. “Clark?”

He looks up, small smile playing at his lips. Bruce can’t tell if it’s real or not. “So, what is your plan?”

Bruce shakes his head and smiles back. “I’ll tell you later.” With a nod and a bigger, more amused smile, Clark turns to leave. “Clark?”

Clark turns back around. “Hmm?”

“When I get released, would you take me home?” He shrugs. “I don’t really want to have Alfred do it this late at night and the boys have been on patrol all night and need sleep.”

Clark shuffles again, fidgeting with his shirt sleeve. “What about Oliver?”

Bruce looks at the time from the clock hanging on the wall. “Ollie is currently on a plane back to Star City.” Clark perks up at this but before Clark can ask questions, Bruce continues. “Just for a few days. He has a board meeting to go to and the Green Arrow needs to make an appearance.”

“So he’s coming back then?”

“Yeah, at least that’s what he said.”

“Bruce?”

“Hmm?”

“Why are you so happy with having such a long-distance relationship like that? He lives on the other side of the country.”

Bruce shrugs. “I don’t know. He makes me… happy I guess.”

“But you and I are closer to one another than you and Oliver even if we don’t live in the same city or state.”

Bruce chuckles. “But you and I aren’t dating, Clark.”

Clark’s eyes widen, as if he’s surprised by Bruce saying that. He shakes his head. “I know, I was using it as a friendship example. Wouldn’t… I mean…” He rolls his eyes. “Wouldn’t you be happier with someone closer to you?”

“We’re both rich, Clark, we can literally see each other whenever we want. It’s not hard for either of us to just get on our private jet and fly to each other’s city.” Bruce narrows his eyes. “Does this have something to do with the baby? Is that why you are so adamantly against me and Ollie being together?”

“No,” he says quickly. Then Clark deflates, sighing heavily. “No, it’s just that I want to make sure you’re making the right decision.”

“Of course, I am,” Bruce says even though he isn’t entirely sure it’s the truth. “I love him,” he lies.

Clark nods. “Okay then.” He swallows and rubs the back of his neck. “I’ll drop it for now on. As long as you’re happy.”

“I am. Clark?” Clark meets his eyes. “Are you happy?”

Clark doesn’t answer right away and instead stares at him, biting his tongue inside his mouth. Then he says, “I better get going before the doctor comes back and yells at me for still being here. I’ll see you in about an hour.” Clark exits the room then, before Bruce has the chance to say anything else, leaving Bruce to stare after him.

A/N: I'm pretty excited for the next chapter. I think you all are going to like it. ;) Thanks for reading!!

[chaosunmasked-blog]

Denali is a River That Flows in Egypt...(or something like that)

Watched Legion today. It was amazing! The convoluted story and timeline that it set up was sure to be a head twister! Smart TV strikes again! I was drawn to looking up the story behind the eponymous mutant, and it seems like this show could be quite interesting. I would love to see if any of the characters we see besides Legion turn out to be his split personalities? If so, he's so far down the rabbit hole, I don't know how he'll get out.

Besides being completely absorbed into the storyline to forget that I have lung exercises to do (Yup, incentive spirometry. It's a bitch at first but it's worth it.) and the allusions to A Clockwork Orange, I also saw a little of myself in Legion. Well, I did have hallucinations that were on that level of fucked up. But what really got me was, will this man ever get better? He has a severe case of paranoid schizophrenia, and some extreme powers, which cause him to question reality at every turn. Even when he is somewhat normal and medicated, his hallucinations and delusions continue but in muted form. I felt a similar kind of hopelessness.

Honestly, I'm so far down the medical hole that I'm practically in Wonderland. I'm a mess. The doctor from somewheresville at the Super Specialized Clinic with some of the best doctors around still can't figure me out. I look at my lab results, and I'm a complete mess (before the overmedication bit). Not only are my lungs still not up to par with someone my age, I have recently found out that I lost 3lbs from last week and my calves are hurting like crazy. Also, my blood sugar is consistently a problem. Almost every time I'm in the hospital it's either too high or way too low. So...why hasn't someone checked by blood sugar? Oh wait they have and my fasting is normal, but when I eat. Watch out! The pseudo-diabetic is in!  

But, the question for me is, will I ever get better? Will anyone be able to get to the bottom of what's causing my body to fail so quickly before the end? Or will I be stuck like Legion with my increasingly worsening health as my only company? But, it was kind of liberating to think like that. I guess the reason is that I dislike going to the doctors and hospitals as I have all these tests and nothing conclusive pops up. Oh yeah, there's something wrong with you, but whatevs let's just chalk it up to Conversion Disorder instead of figuring out why your blood glucose is dangerously low when you have your "freezing episodes". The amount of ignorance and lack of intellectual curiosity or even the simple fact of doctors not doing their jobs properly, does wear on me. I've been to about 50 doctors and I haven’t even blessed the age of 25 yet. About 90% don't do their jobs correctly which puts the other 10% into crisis mode to try and save what's left of my wretched body.

Even this new doctor was considering Conversion Disorder. I didn’t even want to argue with the man. It's been brought up so many fucking times. I even decided to see a psychologist regularly to starve off the possibility, but it still gets brought up by medical doctors. I mean the doctor I have at the Super Specialist Clinic in the middle of somewheresville is a neuropsych doc. I mean wouldn't he have caught it? Jesus. I've actually been to three and all have been a resounding, no you don't have that.  

Shit, if I did. I probably would be better right now living out my dreams with my husband turned wife, whom I may or may not divorce. (I do have a guy in mind, but I'm not sure where his sexual interest lies nowadays.) I would have been a cinematographer capturing stories and trying to save what little human empathy we have left. I can tell all who question me, but it's medically necessary for me to live like a hedonist as stress is but too much for my weak constitution to handle. But no, I'm here typing on a computer as my hands scream bloody murder.  

My parents have gone off the wagon as well. My mom doesn't want to deal with it and neither does my father. They think that I'm just taking some time off, not really acknowledging the fact that I'm really sick and may never regain the ability to work again. However, my dad does have moments of clarity when he realizes how dire my situation is, but then he slips off into a mad delusional state asking me why I'm not doing anything for myself. (Maybe it's because I can barely walk 300ft without passing out and suffering a heart attack? I'm not joking. I actually did acquire some mild heart damage from doing the laundry. Yep. Just doing the laundry causes a mild myocardial infarction.)  

But, can I blame them? Nope. I don't even want to dwell on that too much. It's useless as my therapists say because there is nothing certain in the future for me. It's best to live in the present and appreciate what is working for you, which is the rule I live by.  

So, I just focus on my upcoming physical therapy appointment. I'm hoping that it'll lead to some improvement on my end instead of becoming the overwhelming disappointment late last year. One medication change wiped out months of accomplishments. But, we'll see what occurs this time.  

My hopes for now is that I'll be able to go back to my college or a college abroad. Frankly it's getting too expensive for me, and my future is wildly uncertain. It's not the time to be making $1 million bets right now. Seriously, it'll get that high if my dad has his wish.  

But the thing that led me here was me. I should have sought a second opinion, but I don't like doctors, probably more than most so... Whatevs. I wouldn't have gone anyway even if me from the future pulls up with a ventilator and a foot in the grave. I probably would have told her, but we had fun right? *Winky face* And I really did. I regret nothing. I just hope that I have enough juice left in the tank to pay off my massive debts at least.  

Random side note. I just discovered my college offered a major course online and I was thinking of switching because at least I could work from home right? Well, it turns out the courses are few and far in between. Up to a year wait  in some cases, and you can't even follow the course sequencing if you take it online. No college student should ever come across something like that at all, which makes me wonder. How many online students have actually graduated?  

Peace, till the next time.

[viralhottopics]

21 Nurses And Doctors Share Their Most Insane And Hilarious Stories Of A Patient Faking It

1. A Mother Finds A Way…

“Had a mother come in and INSIST that her child had Silver-Russell syndrome. You can go read on it. It’s not that easy to fake, as it’s a bunch of metabolic conditions mixed with congenital abnormalities.

The kid was small, but not that small (around 6th percentile). He didn’t weight much (5th percentile). All of this, with a right arm length 2 cm more than the left side, were borderline criteria for Silver-Russell. Did genetic testing, which came back negative, but 30% of cases are negative.

So the deciding factor was one of the ‘soft’ criteria of hypoglycemia. Once she heard about this (she printed out 30-40 articles on the disease), she came back with the kid in a coma. But when the kid was in the hospital, he was never hypoglycemic. He went home, and came back in a coma a few weeks later. Again, as soon as he was eating normally at the hospital, he was never hypoglycemic.

She starved her child into comas repeatedly for the diagnosis of Silver-Russell. She was also a ‘bougon,’ people who live off welfare and make a game out of it. By the way, she was in a wheelchair when at the hospital. Once I had enough of her bullshit and walked into the room after only knocking once. She was walking around normally and jumped into the wheelchair as soon as she saw me.

I believe it was for money since in Canada/Quebec, you get money when your child has a genetic disability… God, if it was legal, I would have slapped some sense into that her.”

2. It’s A Miracle!

“My husband is a firefighter and EMT and he told me about a time where they were called for a man seizing. When they got there a guy was lying face up on the floor not moving and then started faking a seizure. They stood there saying things like ‘Oh wow. This is a bad one. But if they did X then we should really be worried!’ and the patient would suddenly start doing X behavior. Apparently this went on for a while until he miraculously woke up in the ambulance asking for opiates.”

3. Whooping Cough

“My mom’s an ER nurse and she said once some crazy lady came in and complained hat she had the whooping cough. And whenever she coughed she followed it with a loud ‘woooOOOP!’”

4. “A Nice, tasty Lortab Might Help, Doctor”

“When I was a resident, I had a patient in clinic that was doing that round-about thing patients do when they want narcotics but aren’t going to directly ask for them. She would hint at having arthritis pain that ‘just doesn’t seem to get better except that one time she took lortab’ and that ‘you know, her friend gave her a Percocet once and it helped a lot’ (never mind the fact that this lady was 100% functional despite ‘debilitating pain’.

At the end of the clinic visit, when I offered a physical therapy referral and stronger NSAIDs (the actual treatment for osteoarthritis), she suddenly sat straight up, looked me in the eye, and said, ‘Doctor, I don’t know how…but I’m totally paralyzed.’

Seriously. She pretended that, all of a sudden, everything other than her mouth was totally paralyzed. She made us send her to the ER (but not before she had my nurse unwrap a peppermint and literally put it on her tongue because ‘her blood sugar felt low’). We had to lift this nutcase into a wheelchair (during which we could all feel her shifting and repositioning…not something a paralyzed person would do) and roll her to the ER to be evaluated for ‘sudden paralysis’.

While in the ER, she suggested to the ER doc that maybe Lortab would fix her paralysis, and when the ER doc rightly refused this treatment, she got out of the stretcher and walked out.”

5.Girl Begins Fake Convulsions Out Of Grief

“Not even a patient but a family member. The family was grieving in the room due to the patient just being made comfort care and not expected to survive the day. A niece of the patient, who was easily in her 30’s, started screaming like she was being murdered and fell to the floor near our nursing pod. She started ‘convulsing’ but her family completely ignored her. Some even side stepped her or literally stepped over her while trying to leave the unit. The niece would randomly convulse while we were loading her onto a stretcher. The charge nurse picked this ladies arm up and let it fall. It some how just softly returned to her side. Finally she was loaded up and we were ready to transport her to the ER. The ladies aunt/mom/sister? looked at the doctor and asked if the hospital was going to pay for her tests. The doctor on the unit said no and ‘miraculously’ the niece shot up and acted like she couldn’t remember what happened. The rest of the family just left her there and told the desk not to let her back in to the unit once she was escorted out.”

6. Kidney Stones From The Parking Lot

“Husband is a Urologist. ER calls with a patient who is reportedly writhing in pain from kidney stones. Patient brought with him a stone he passed for analysis. Hubby walks in, sees one of the regular drug seekers, takes a look at the sample determines it’s a pebble guy picked up in the parking lot.”

7. Drunk Girl Prepares For Her Seizure

“Get called for an unconscious intox’s at a bar. Get her out to the ambulance, she shouts ‘I’M HAVING A SEIZURE’ and starts waving her arms around. I tell her ‘people who have seizures generally don’t announce it first.’ Her response? ��You’re being very judgmental, I was getting ready in case I had a seizure.’

……gotta stretch, I guess.”

8. Good Guy Car Accident Victim Runs A Con

“I was an intern in a busy trauma ED when a guy walks up the ambulance bay and screams he needs to be seen immediately. They take him back and he starts telling everyone he was in a car accident last night going ‘100+ mph’ on the interstate but did not go to the hospital because he was worried about his friend, the driver. But now he’s losing feeling in his legs and has severe back pain and needs to be seen.

So of course the story is super fishy but we put him on a backboard/collar and get some xrays of chest and pelvis (our protocol for any severe trauma). The radiologist who is stationed in the ED flags me and asks when out patient got a CT scan. He showed me his pelvis x ray and his bladder is super bright: it’s filled with the iodine contrast agent they inject in your veins when you get a CT which is then excreted by the kidneys over the next few hours.

So we confront our patient about why he didn’t tell us about being seen at another hospital and getting a CT. He launches into a rambling explanation about concussions and amnesia. He has, of course, also exhibited several other drug seeking behaviors in his short time in the ED. He decides to leave AMA but not before asking the nurse directions to the nearest hospital, presumably to try the same trick.”

9. Home Nurse Gets Robbed

“My wife’s a district nurse, she drives to peoples homes changing dressings, giving medications etc etc. Her job has her dealing with many people such as gang members and people on home detention, but the worst in her opinion, the people you never trust even a little bit are the methadone patients, according to her a lot of them will try anything to get a little bit more.

She had one not long ago that was being extremely talkative, almost like he didn’t want her to leave the house. Then he started showing her every little lump and bump, wanting her to make sure they weren’t infections or anything. Although he wasn’t making her uncomfortable, she did think it was strange for him as he was normally very quiet and wanted the nurses gone asap.

When she got back to her car the back window had been smashed in but all that was missing was her sharps container and the lockbox the drugs were kept in. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what was going on so she walks back to the house, looks in the front window and sees the methadone dude and another guy sitting on the couch trying to open her lockbox and emptying the sharps container on the floor.

She called the police at that point and despite knowing that some of the needles now on the floor were from an HIV+ patient she had earlier in the day she sat in the car until the PD arrived because you never ever get between a junkie and a fix.”

10. Man Fakes Migraine To Get Out Of Paying For His Meal

“Paramedic here.

Gentleman called 911 from a restaurant claiming he had a migraine and was unable to see properly. He was literally 2 blocks from a hospital.

I’ve had migraines, I’m sympathetic. On the way to the call I was planning my treatment plan so he would be more comfortable during the wait in the emerg.

He was waiting outside, in full sunlight, waving at us. Thanked us politely for coming ‘to his rescue’. Sat in the well lit ambulance, chatting up a storm, making inappropriate jokes, and laughing. Stating the whole time he has 10/10 pain from a migraine, and that only Percocet works to reduce the pain. He has them frequently, and wouldn’t you know it, he’s run out of his prescribed medication, and his doctor is on vacation.

The chef from the restaurant he called from came out and asked for his information. Our patient was ‘unable to pay his bill, due to the pain.’ He conveniently had no ID he could leave with the restaurant, and only had his debit card with him. He promised to come back, once he was feeling well enough to tap his PIN into the machine, but right now he couldn’t. The chef knew 100% the guy was full of shit, but couldn’t do anything.

As someone who has had a vomiting, shaking, vision effecting, migraine in the past, he did nothing to convince he was in actual discomfort. I actually would greatly prefer if he had said, ‘I ate a meal I can’t afford, and I’m addicted to pain killers, can you please take me to the ER.’ Honesty would have gotten him better treatment from everyone involved.”

11. Screams For Pain Meds When Not Having A Seizure

“This JUST happened last week, strangely enough. I’ve been a nurse for 4 years now, and this is probably the worst I’ve seen it.

Young adult comes in with seizure-like activity. We’re a neuroscience floor, so we get these a lot. Complains of severe abdominal pain related to her seizures, apparently. They run multiple CTs and MRIs that come back clean. We put her on a 24 hour VEEG machine (video EEG for those who don’t know). She reportedly has 100s of seizures throughout the night, with full body convulsions, drooling, upper extremity contractions, and will not respond to verbal stimuli. Post ictal, she’s not lethargic, just confused. Doesn’t know her own name, the place that she’s in, or what time it is, but the rest of her neuro assessment is benign. No bladder incontinence during, had perfect control of all limbs.

She screams for pain meds when she’s not having seizures, but is for some reason refusing everything they offer her. Tylenol – nope. Percocet – makes her feel weird. Lidoderm patch for her abdomen – it gives her sores in her mouth. I guarantee if a doctor offered Opiates, she would have been all over that.

After 24 hours of being her, $1000s worth of tests being run all coming up negative, the doctors had no choice but to send her home. She become agitated and seizing again, while the doctor is basically explaining that she’s faking it. He says, ‘I’ll wait.’ She immediately stops.

Security had to escort he out, with me in tow, because I was too paranoid that she would throw herself on the floor before leaving and demand to be readmitted. They recommended an outpatient psych consult for her, which made her even angrier. Lord knows, maybe the seizures felt real to her, but she didn’t need a special kind of help.”

12. A Colossal Waste Of Everyone’s Time

“EMT here. The one that sticks out is the most textbook example of drug seeking behavior.

Get called out to a residence at 2 am (because of course, it’s always 2 am). Guy says he’s having 10/10 finger pain and gingerly holding his hand in the air. Says there was no trauma, just started suddenly and it’s unbearable.

So we load him up, take him the 25 minutes the the hospital. Entire time he’s holding his hand in the air. But we had a full conversation, talked about Football, never once did he complain about pain.

We wheel him into the ER and literally the second we walk through the door, this guy starts in pain. Says he can’t sit still the pain is unbearable, he has to stand up, screaming at the nurse to help. Then he turned to the nurse and said:

‘I had this same issue at a different hospital 2 weeks ago. They couldn’t tell what was wrong. They gave me morphine but that didn’t work so then they gave me dilaudid. That worked. So maybe you should just start with dilaudid tonight.’ And then he went back to moaning in pain.

Nurse and I just looked at each other, we put him in a bed and I drove the 35 minutes back to station. Highly doubt he was given any pain less that night, was just a colossal waste of everyone’s time.”

13. People Really Act Out

“I am an X-ray tech. All the time in the ED you will have patients that come in seeking things. These patients will have a bunch of X-rays ordered. So when you first start the exams they will be in all sorts of pain. They cannot position any body part. Fighting and begging you to not do it. Then after about 15 minutes, when they notice you’re going to do your job. They stop the charade and get through the stack of images ordered on them. It’s quite incredible really.

The other thing that blows my mind is when people want the worst possible outcome of their disease. Like you can feel the craving for sympathy emanating from them. With phrases ‘Ohhh that’s really bad isn’t it’ or ‘Oh man is that the worse you’ve seen?’ Not said with dread, but barely hidden excitement.”

14. Some Of The Most Obvious Fakes

“I have so many of these!!

–Male patient, 18 years old, rolled in unconscious. Mom says he’s been like that for the past four hours. Go to check his lungs when I hear something interesting. I place the stethoscope near his mouth and hear him breathe in normally, but then breathe out by saying ‘breath’. No joke.

–Male patient, 21 years old, admitted with inability to speak for last two hours and respiratory distress. Lungs clear, but we hook him up to oxygen for a few minutes. After he’s taken off, his father comes running and drags me over, saying his sons tongue refuses to go back in after receiving the oxygen. I look at the kid and he’s seriously just lying there with his tongue poking out like a child. I tell them to push it back in. A few hours later the dad tells me the boy is convulsing. I go to see without making my presence known and he’s lying there just fine. The moment I ask the mom how he’s doing, he starts ‘convulsing’. Think of an odd version of the worm, but on his back.

–Female patient, 16 years old, admitted with complaints of recurrent seizures and frothing from the mouth. I look at her and she is literally blowing spit bubbles. I check her reflexes, everything is intact. The moment I turn away to check on another patient, she suddenly becomes ‘rigid’ and the spitting intensifies.

–Male patient, 30 years old, unconscious and completely unresponsive for six hours. This guy was totally dedicated to his act. I initially approached it as a stroke, but when the blood pressure, ECG, reflexes, pupils, etc all are normal….I start checking pain sensation. He slowly began to open his eyes and groan as I asked him to tell me his name, but the moment his Achilles’ tendon was pressed, he suddenly sat up, stated his name, and declared himself cured.

–Female patient, 17 years old, complained of respiratory distress and convulsions. Everything’s normal on admission, and she’s conscious but refuses to eat. Parents are worried out of their minds, and every few minutes she has a ‘fit’ where she would just basically shake from side to side. She let slip to a nurse that she didn’t want to go to school that week, so she was faking an illness. Since she was refusing to eat, the attending wrote up an order for a nasogastric tube (which was inserted and then removed by her in a matter of minutes), and we prescribed her sugar pills because her parents wouldn’t let us transfer her to psychiatry or discharge her. She finally left after four days.”

15. Three Hilarious Paramedic Faker Stories

“Paramedic here – I have three stories that come to mind.

Story #1 – We get called to a local Waffle House for a seizure. We walk in to find a man lying on the floor, not moving, but breathing. We start talking to the waitress, asking what had happened. While talking to her, we occasionally look down at the patient, and find him with one eye barely cracked open, watching us; when he sees us looking at him, he closes his eye. This happens a few times. Then the cops show up and find out what’s going on. One of the officers asks the waitress, ‘Did he (patient) eat here?’

‘Yes, he did.’

‘How much is his bill?’

‘Fourteen dollars.’

At this point, the officers roll the patient over and find his wallet; the guy has a $20 bill in it. One of the officers takes out the $20, gives it to the waitress, and tells her, ‘keep the change.’ You could see the anger in the patient’s face when he realizes he’s not getting out of paying his bill. He ended up faking a seizure on the way to the hospital (I’m not about to explain how I know it was fake, because I’m not going to give anyone ANY info on how to fake a seizure).

Story #2 – We get called to a fall in the women’s bathroom at Wal-Mart. We walk in, and the manager is FREAKING OUT. We go into the bathroom to find a white female face up on the floor – I’m guessing she weighs at least 350 lbs; there were two friends of hers standing in there with her. I ask her what happened; she says she slipped on a puddle and fell, hurting her back. I look all over the bathroom floor; there’s NO water on the floor. I ask the manager AND the patient’s friends – ‘Do you see water on the floor?’ They all said, ‘No.’ I then tell the patient, ‘There’s no water on the floor, ma’am.’ She says, ‘I’m lying on top of it.’ We’re going to have to roll her to her side in order to get a backboard under her and pick her up; I explain that to her. As we roll her to her side, I check her back for any obvious injuries; I then check her clothing AND the floor she was lying on – nothing was wet. I have the manager (who was grinning from ear to ear at this point) and the patient’s friends look – ‘Do you see water on the floor? Are her clothes wet?’ They all said, ‘No.’ We then roll the patient onto the board, pick her up, and place her on a stretcher.

At this point, I tell the patient, ‘I’m going to be writing up paperwork for this call and your treatment. Part of what is going to be written up is the fact that you said you slipped on a wet floor, and that no water was found either on the floor or soaked into your clothing. This is standard; I have to write up what I’m told in addition to what I see. What you need to understand is this – if you happen to decide to take Wal-Mart to court, they can request a copy of my run report, and it’s going to show what you said and what I found. They can also summon me to testify, and if they do, I’m going to tell them what you told me and what I saw, the manager saw, and what your friends saw. That being said, do you want to keep dragging this out and go to the hospital, or do you want to just get up from my stretcher and be done with it?’

She chose to get up and leave.

Story #3 – We get called to a 13 year old having a first-time seizure. We get on scene, and the entire family is freaking out, except for the father. I walk into the room where the kid was – OBVIOUS FAKER. I turn to dad and have him go outside into the hallway, I tell him the boy is faking, and I ask if anything unusual happened today. The father tells me he found marijuana in the kid’s room, and he was getting on to him about it when the kid started ‘seizing.’ I reassured the father that his son was NOT seizing, and he asked if we could take him to the hospital ‘just to be safe.’ I said no problem. We pick the kid up and put him on the stretcher, and as we head outside to the ambulance, he exhibits more behavior that shows he’s faking.

Inside the ambulance, I tell the kid that I know he’s faking and ask him to stop, but he keeps on. The hospital we take him to doesn’t have board-certified Emergency Department physicians; they use General Practice and Internal Medicine physicians (a LOT of smaller hospitals do this). I bring the kid in and give a patient report to the internal medicine doc and the RN, and I say the kid is ‘faking his seizure activity.’ The doctor had a problem with that – ‘You can’t possibly tell that he’s faking.’ I assure him that, yes, the kid is faking. I explain the situation that led up to him faking, and that I could prove it. The doctor says, ‘I’d like to see that.’

The RN knows EXACTLY what’s going on and what I wanted to do; he’s all for it! So I say to the kid, ‘Bob (I don’t remember his name), we need a urine sample from you, and we need you to wake up to do it. If you don’t wake up, we’re going to shove a tube into your penis, run it all the way into your bladder, and take a urine sample from you. Please, just wake up and give us a sample.’

Nothing from the kid.

‘Okay, Bob, if you don’t wake up in 10 seconds, we’re going to start prepping you to get the tube shoved into your penis. Ten, nine, eight, FIVEFOURTHREETWOONE!’

His eyes opened wide as saucers before he realized we caught him. He then closed his eyes, started blinking, looked around the room, and said, ‘What happened?’ The RN was laughing, and the doc was a little pissed.”

16. School Nurse Doesn’t Stand For Nonsense

“My mother was the school nurse when I was in high school, but she’s been a nurse my whole life. She’s told me a few good stories (obviously without names). But I was lucky enough to overhear one of the students trying to fake an illness to get out of class. The kid, we’ll call him Derrick, was a skud. White trash, moody, and destructive. Not my favorite classmate. But I was laying there when I heard him come in and start his routine of attention seeking. (mom used to let me skip seminary and nap on the empty beds).So my mom runs through all the basics, temp, blood pressure, etc. Well Derrick finally just cuts to the chase, obviously frustrated with the procedure, ‘Look Mrs. S, something is seriously wrong here and I’m not faking it this time!’ He screeched, defenses already 10 feet high.

‘OK Derrick, what’s the problem this time?’ She asked.

‘Well, earlier this morning, I started feeling sick, so I went to the bathroom to throw up. After I was done I looked at the toilet…(dramatic pause) and there where over a dozen whole baby carrots…(another pause, this one I think was for any gasps that might be coming) AND I DON’T EVEN EAT CARROTS!’ He nearly shouted.

Well, after about a 10 second pause and what I’m guessing was the hardest straight face my mother ever had to keep. She said, still fighting back laughter, ‘Well, Derrick your body is producing carrots at an alarming rate. Weird that it only seems to happen during gym, though. Here is a Gatorade and a hall pass to get back to class, see you tomorrow, Derrick.’

He left, stunned to be written off so easily and we had a good ol’ laugh.

‘And I don’t even eat carrots!’ has become a family favorite catchphrase.”

17. Limps On The Wrong Leg

“Student nurse, but this happened when I was at the gym.

Guy next to me fell off the elliptical, somehow got his foot trapped between the foot pedals and went sideways. The surprisingly inept PTs (Personal trainers are usually well trained in first aid) were freaking out and this guy is really hamming it up. Talks of calling an ambulance are thrown about. I offer to step in.

‘AHHHHHH MY ANKLE’ He’s on the floor grabbing his leg. I kneel next to him.

‘Hey bro,’ I greet him. He’s so surprised that I’m there (came up from behind) that he forgets to groan. ‘How much does it hurt on a scale of 1-10?’

‘Erm… 8,’ he says. I look at his ankle. There’s a scratch on it the size of a penny and superficial, hardly any blood. Little red around the scratch, ankle not swollen. I ask him if he can point and flex his foot and rotate his ankle, which he can do with zero difficulty, not even a grimace. I figure he’s probably hamming it up cuz it’s embarrassing falling off a machine in front of everyone, so I get him an ice pack (mostly for show tbh), tell him he’ll be fine, and tell the PTs not to call an ambulance. His sister comes to pick him up in her car and he limps out on the wrong leg.”

18. The Other End Of The Spectrum

“Had an elderly man who was in his early 70s (long term smoker) who came in with shortness of breath, trouble breathing, and a little bit of a cough and occasional production of blood tinged sputum. <— that last one is a bad sign

He also complained of a little bit of back pain he’d been having that started about a month ago after he was helping his son move. When asked to rate his pain he said 2/10 (‘not too bad’).

He has no other history, always had good blood pressure, no cholesterol issues, no diabetes… has a little bit of anxiety/depression, unmedicated.

So we check him out. Reduced breath sounds all across, more so on the left lower side. Tenderness to palpation in the lower back, he jumped when we touched it, said it was about a 3/10 when we touched it.

Check vitals, his blood pressure is 180/85 (this happens with severe pain), he has no fever, and his heart rate is in the 120s (also happens with pain).

Get scans and labs. He has three broken vertebrae, probably pathological (caused by cancer) a pleural effusion (it was malignant, as in, caused by cancer), and a few masses in his left lung. Guy had stage 4 lung cancer that spread to his back, caused his back to break, and he said he had 2-3/10 back pain.

Either he was set on fire in his childhood and then beaten with 2x4s filled with nails then rolled in broken glass… or he was faking not having pain. This is someone who we would describe as a ‘minimizer’.

Not the typical story you expected, I guess.

He got his surgery, and the next day wanted to leave the hospital cuz he had to do some paperwork and pay his bills, didn’t take any of the pain meds offered to him, except at night to help him sleep.

I hope he’s still alive, was a really nice guy.”

19. Domestic Drama At A Crash Scene

“Firefighter/first responder here, I once had a call for a ‘vehicle that struck a power pole’ at 2 am on a major street. We arrive on scene to find a telephone pole snapped in half and a car that had crossed 8 lanes of traffic to hit this pole straight on. We found the “patient” lying on the ground next to her car, laying on her back with arms crossed across her chest clutching her phone. Right next to her were her shoes laid perfectly next to each other by her feet. As I approached her I could see her squint one eye trying to see what I was doing. I know she was faking by all of this and called an officer over to ‘help hold C-spine’ I called her name with no response so next step was painful stimulus, grinding your knuckles into the sternum is an acceptable way to check, the second I said ‘I’m going to give her a sternum rub’ she was awake. Right when we finished packaging her for the ambulance I noticed a man talking to the police obviously drunk. That’s when I noticed she smelled of alcohol too, turns out the woman called 911 to report her own accident and the husband told the police they were drunk, got in a fight, and she decided to leave even when he told her not too, it was a fake suicide attempt to make him feel bad so he pressed charges for grand theft auto and totaling the car.”

20. Avoiding Football Practice

“Medical student here.

Like a month ago at the ER, a mother came with her 10yo son who claimed to have a monstruous knee pain and that he couldn’t move. So when we came to his room he was lying down (important for continuity)

X-ray was normal, knee was normal, not red, no swelling.

Each time we would touch his knee or try to move his leg or his thigh he would scream like we were torturing him, and his scream seemed genuine.

But with every test being normal and no explanation to this atypic pain we were confused and thinking he’s faking it.

So we asked him to try to move his leg on his own and he would barely move it and scream, then we asked him if he felt pain when standing up he said yes, we asked him to get up and surprise : he got up by bending his knee, fastly but we saw it, he was trying to simulate but he didn’t fully succeed.

I mean it was so obvious, he amlost made a 90 angle with his knee and as soon he touched the ground and got up he started to scream etc.

All of that was just the little boy simulating to avoid going to his football training.”

21. Threat Of Large Needle Cures Unconscious Patient

“When I was a junior medical student without much experience on the wards, a homeless patient came in who was ‘unconscious’. Except, she wasn’t. I mean, obviously wasn’t.

The doctor would hold up her limp arm, position her hand over her head and let go. If she was truly unconscious, her hand would hit her in the face. Somehow, every time he let go of her hand, it would swerve at the last minute and miss her face.

In an effort to rouse her, the doctor loudly asked me to go and get ‘the biggest needle you can find’. When I returned, he asked me if I’d ever taken blood before. I replied that I had not. He said that as Miss X was unconscious, this would be an excellent opportunity for me to have some one-on-one teaching on the subject. He also said that this would ordinarily be extremely painful for someone with such a large needle being used.

Unfortunately, she ‘woke up’ at that point, so I didn’t get to learn how to take blood.”

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from 21 Nurses And Doctors Share Their Most Insane And Hilarious Stories Of A Patient Faking It