#like bitch no patient did not

[imgae-insertshockedgasps-16]

me: *tells audiologist abt how sensitive my hearing is and how how i can hear electricity and things*

audiologist in notes: *patient reports auditory hallucinations*

[justaz]

s1ep13 merlin, believing he will be dead by morning, goes to say goodbye to arthur and he leans against the door of arthur’s chambers and watches the glow of the fire light his skin golden, full of color and life that it had been sorely lacking while the prince was injured. he stares at the softness of arthur’s features and pressed the line of his profile into memory for while he passes he will wish for nothing more than to see arthur one last time, his smile and blue eyes one last comfort before he passes on to the otherworld. arthur turns to stare at him and frowns at whatever expression merlin is making. the prince kicks a weak foot out at the chair next to him and motions for merlin to join him. merlin slowly shuffles over but ignores the chair completely. he stops in front of arthur who watches him with wary confusion. the tug of his lips and the furrow of his brow sickeningly endearing and merlin allows himself to be selfish and leans down to press his lips to arthur’s.

the prince is sat frozen under merlin’s touch but he can’t find himself to care much about that, not when he finally knows what it feels like to kiss arthur. he hopes that will be his last sensation before the ever consuming nothing, he hopes he will close his eyes one last time only to find arthur grinning at him and calling him an idiot before leading him into paradise where he can watch arthur smile, hear him laugh, and feel his touch for all eternity. he pulls away and leaves before arthur can gather himself to form a response, dropping the letter explaining everything on the table as he passes. so he allows himself to be selfish twice - to take from arthur and to give, to let himself know what is feels to kiss the man, to embrace his feelings for him, and to have the man know him for who he truly is. he wishes to pass peacefully with no regrets. somehow that revolves entirely around arthur.

only…he survives the whole ordeal and yeah has a gnarly scar on his chest but is otherwise fit to return to his duties. which include taking care of the prince. of arthur. who he kissed. and who most definitely know about his magic by now. yeesh.

[djevelbl]

Ok. I now understand what that one person here was saying about doctors treating their patients with a clinical consideration (or lack thereof) that seems to be particular to the profession — or I now understand it more... personally, I guess. So I'm at the dentist (or whatever the specific type of doctor, idk about doctor pokemon types dude they're all the same to me) bc they had to put something on a badly decayed/fucked up tooth (hello bilingualism, how I loathe not knowing how to communicate properly) and she starts cleaning it bc of my, admittedly, bad dental habits

This is where the fucked up thing comes in: she notices that I'm tensing up and clenching the armrests on my grasp real tightly; I have this thing where if I'm grabbing onto an armrest and I'm scared/in pain/deeply uncomfortable I'll dig my index and middle fingers into it, the others circling around it — kinda like how you'd measure someone's pulse on their wrist, but I'm instead trying to strangle the shit out of an inanimate object. So she decides to inject some anesthesia on the general area so she can work better and I'm calmer — situation resolved!

Except, it doesn't work.

I've had problems with dental-related anesthesia in the past — I had to get my wisdom teeth removed and let me tell you, even if I didn't feel the pain that didn't mean I wasn't feeling it; I can only assume what I felt was discomfort, some sort of sensibility or something like that, but trust me, that operation was hell on Earth and I hated every second of it. Coming back to the present, I felt. Every. Fucking. Time her shooty mc watergun thing came anywhere close to my fucked up tooth — she had to clean around it? I felt it. She had to clean within it? Yep, I felt it. She moved the instrument around and it just so happen to soot water into the tooth? BOOM I was clenching the armrests like they owed me money. It was SO. BAD I started shaking at some point like I had hypothermia, it was HORRIBLE

The worse part was whenever she asked me if it hurt. The repeated chant of "it hurts? No? Of course not, I gave you anesthesia!" Will forever haunt me, in just the same way that doctor who took out my wisdom teeth does whenever I remember the pain and his question of "you can still feel it?" Whenever I said that I still felt pain from the needle entering my gums. I can still hear the befuddlement in his voice every time I shaked my head one way or another, clearly in a manner that did not align with The Good Patient Manual he'd been taught to learn. I don't think I'll ever forget her sort of upbeat voice as she cleaned my tooth and I was made to lay as still as the tremors allowed me to be, clenching the armrests and getting my head manhandled by my top front teeth with her finger — I didn't even think someone would ever do that.

Like. What the fuck

[bunnihearted]

where is that post that is like 'if u were the girl he wanted communication would be easy for him' bc yeah... no matter how much u dont want it to be, it's true

[dykeogenes]

cupping your face gently between my hands. there are people in the world whose whole entire job is 'explaining terrifying bureaucratic processes that dont make sense' and you can ask them any questions you want. for real.

[tardis--dreams]

Feeling homicidal at work today ♡

[homosexual-fanfiction]

okay theoretically .. if you were to look at the word count for a chapter.. how many words do you think would make you say "this is too fucking long"

[kimmkitsuragi]

that moment when internet dies every 2 minutes <3

[giantkillerjack]

today, i had a call with my psychiatrist office, and i threatened to file a complaint of patient endangerment with the department of public health. so. that was fucking intense. i did a great job tho. i am an articulate son of a bitch, even if i shouldn't have to be, and i am going to ensure the head doctor of that office calls me and explains herself or i will become A Problem.

[cyberneticdryad]

remember that you can (and should!) do the things you love even when they're not sparking joy

[scarecrowgolem]

Literally feel like i went to arkham fr what the hell why is my luck so terrible

[timeisacephalopod]

I finished What We Don't Talk About When We Talk About Fat by Aubrey Gordon and I guess some Drs (I believe she listed gynecologists specifically) have a weight limit of 200 pounds before they won't even SEE you. Their reasoning? Being fat is unhealthy. BOY do I have some fucking news for these people about what the fuck a doctors job is.

For reference I'm chubby, I'm a size 12, and the last time I was weighed in a Drs office I hit that 200 pound limit exactly, and I've gained a bit of weight since then (symptom of the IUD I got). So by this logic I'd have BARELY qualified for a fucking Drs visit to begin with, and I wouldn't be able to get one now. Which is insane because I'm going to reiterate that I'm not fat, I wouldn't care if I was because bodies are bodies, but I don't even exit the chubby stage and that kind of rule kicks me out of healthcare. Actually fat people? Way worse treatment than that, Aubrey got told to lose weight about a fucking ear infection once.

[dancinjanssen]

Restaurants do this to themselves with their shitty scheduling tbh. It’s as simple as either having a posted “kitchen closes at” time that’s earlier than the time people actually need to be out, or scheduling employees’ shifts with time past closing to do all the cleaning. In the hospital kitchen I worked in, we were all scheduled 30 to 90 minutes past closing time depending on our duties. My easy pizza station that I could already have mostly closed by doing stuff throughout the night? 30 minutes. I got an hour for the coffee shop because that involved more. And the dishwashers as mentioned above got 90 minutes, so guess what? They just got scheduled later so they’d have 90 minutes of uninterrupted washing time after close.

Our chef gave me lasting PTSD but she knew how to write a schedule. 🤣

it was too much i had to make my own post

line cook here. ACCURATE

if you don't get the hate, here's what you don't understand.

it takes up to 2 hours to close down the kitchen.

The last 60-90 minutes before closing time you do almost no cooking because the restaurant doesn't have many people in it and you've already cooked most of their diners.

So if someone walks in during, like, the last hour, the cook is in the middle of an industrial deep clean of the kitchen.

(these numbers can vary quite a bit from place to place but i have worked several restaurants with these actual times and the concept remains the same)

Say the place closes at 10. If you wait til the restaurant is already closed to start all your cleaning duties, you'll be there until at least midnight.

More than that your boss knows that on an average night you can start your clean up as soon as the last rush ends and get out of there around 10:45, even 10:15 on a slow night if you get lucky. That means there are plenty of restaurants where if you do take until midnight the manager is going to come up to you at some point that week and ask you what went wrong that night, and you'd better have an answer.

So this example restaurant closes at 10 pm. The dinner rush ends around 8:30, and shortly after that the cook is going to start getting every single dish possible over to the dishwasher because the dishwasher always gets hit hard and late, and the machine runs for 2 full minutes and only holds so many dishes, so the way that works out is if you wait an extra 30 minutes to give the dishwasher all your stuff it can mean adding like 60 minutes to the end of his shift. And you're gonna KEEP finding shit to send to the dishpit right up until you leave probably.

all these little square and rectangle containers in this cold table have to be pulled out and changed over into new containers, replaced by new full ones, or in some cases filled from larger containers in the back, which can result in even more empty containers to send to the dishwasher.

while it's all pulled apart to do this, you have to clean up all the spilled food and sauce and juices and stuff from the joints and ledges and shelves and drip trays

Once you get your line changed over in this way, and fully stocked, anytime someone orders something that makes use of a bunch of that stuff, you have to restock and re-clean it some. It might already be covered in plastic. Some of it might already be stuck in the back to make room to take apart your cutting board counter to clean. To cook a dish isn't TOO much of a problem at this point, but you're really hoping for zero orders because you still have so much other cleaning to do.

Meanwhile the salad bar and appetizer section and server station and everybody are all doing the same thing. Even the bartenders are stocking olives and lemons and sending back whisks and stir spoons and shakers and empty 4quart storage containers that used to hold the back-up lemons and olives and things. Every section is dumping their must-be-cleaneds to the dishpit as fast as possible because early and fast is the only thing they can do to to help that dishpit not absolutely drown into overtime.

The poor dishwasher is always the last to clock out, soaking wet and exhausted.

Around this time you probably scrub the flat top, which has turned black from cooked on grease and is still about 500 degrees. Line cooks are divided in opinion on water-based or oil based cleaning methods for this, but they all involve scrubbing with (usually) a brick of pumice stone using every ounce of your strength while you try not to burn yourself

you scrub it from fully blackened to gleaming silver and now if somebody orders something that needs the flat top to cook, you can either fuck up your cleaning job or fake it in a couple frying pans and pass that tiny fuck you down to your dishwasher (who usually understands, especially if you help them take the garbage out or clean your own floor drain later)

If there's deep fried stuff on the menu then the fryers have to be cleaned out, which includes straining the oil out into enormous and super-heavy pots full of oil so hot that if you spill on yourself then it's probably a hospital visit and if you slip and fall face first into it it'll be the last thing you ever do.

Then you gotta scrub out the fryer. Like you gotta take the (hot) screen out and reach your arm down into the weird rounded pipes and curved areas (so hot, burn you if you brush against them hot) and scrub off whatever is down there

Depending on your kitchen you might have to do up to four of these. Then you'll have to pour the (dangerously hot) oil back in

oh, and if you didn't dry the pipes and get ALL the water out of the trap and tank?

water reacts with hot oil in a sort of mentos and coke way that can send a tidal wave of oil past the open flame of the pilot light ...HUGE dangerous mess and/or burn down the kitchen if the oil lights up.

Unless! If the oil has been used too hard and needs to be changed, it's time to carry those open topped super heavy pots full of will-kill-you-hot oil and dump them in the barrel outside by the dumpsters so you can put room temp fresh oil in the fryers. whew!

The clean up is not just some light wiping down that can be easily interrupted, is what i'm saying.

You might have to do some kind of walk-in duty (moving around 50lb cases of lettuce and 50lb bags of onions to get to the stacks of five gallon buckets full of salad dressings and sauces to move so you can reach the giant metal pots and bus tubs full of prep and get it all organized and make sure it's all labeled and i have to stop now i'm having flashbacks)

THE POINT IS

by 15 or however many minutes to close, the line cook is doing an intense deep clean and probably has the whole stove taken apart to detail.

For some industrial stoves this means lifting off large cast iron plates that weigh like 20 lbs each and are still quite hot. Whatever metal burners are on there, you gotta take off and clean, you can see here the lines that indicate the large thick cast iron rectangles that sit on top of the burners to allow heavy pots to rest on. Those five (each has one front burner hole and one back burner hole, see?) have to be lifted off and cleaned with soap and a wire brush usually, and then the underneath area also has to be cleaned because a lot of shit falls through the burner holes on a busy night.

if you didn't do it when you did the flat top you have to do the grease trap (which can be like a full five minutes and is always disgusting).. You gotta clean out all the little gas jets in each burner with a wire or something so the burners all flame evenly, and sometimes you have to remove some of the natural gas piping that connects the burners to access where you have to clean.

you gotta clean out the bottom of the oven and the wire racks, and, oh gods, you gotta take down the filter vents from the hood fans above the stove.

See all the lined parts along the top of the wall?

those are hood vents, and as they pull air up they also pull a lot of grease and they have to be taken down and cleaned, then you gotta climb up there and scrub where they go before you put them back...

And then there's the mopping and floor drains and...

Anyway, that's what the line cook is doing when you walk in fifteen minutes before closing and order something that needs to be cooked on that stove. They are doing an entire industrial cleaning of a professional kitchen.

In some restaurants maybe one or two of these jobs will be every other night or even only twice a week, but in many, possibly most kitchens, ALL of these things happen EVERY night. You don't want to leave any food mess that might attract insects or rodents for one thing, so a really good kitchen is as close to brand new as you can get it every night.

IF YOU ABSOLUTELY HAVE TO ORDER SOMETHING ANYWAY, HERE IS WHAT TO DO

open with an apology and ask the server to go ask what the cook would prefer you to order.

Any good server will already know what the cook is hoping for and what will make their line cook go into the walk in and scream. If it's significantly less than an hour to close and they say some variant of "oh anything is fine" they are either telling the lie their boss wants them to say, or they actually do not know what their line cook wants, and you can either use human connection and a conspiratorial just-between-us tone to get them to drop the customer-is-always-right act, or get them to actually go ask the cook.

It might be as specific as "the lasagna is easiest on the kitchen" or it might be a simple guideline like "nothing that requires the flat top" or "any of the sautés are easy" but a good line cook will probably have a system for if they have to make a couple of the most popular items after they start their close, so the answer is likely to include something most people like and you should be good to order that.

but for the love of all that's holy, please only do so at great need. Leave that last 30-60 minutes to the truly desperate and the crew's duties.

[kohakuhibiki]

People online: "being an afab transwoman (the absence of space is important, do notice) is good and everyone can be whatever they want 🥰"

My therapist when I was 17: "Given your physiognomy taking testosterone wouldn't make you inherently more masculine more than it would make you look like a transexual than a man, do you want to be a transexual or a man? You already look androgynous enough, you don't need more."

"Is this a trick?"

[slippery-minghus]

god i feel so fucking stuck. it doesn't sound like i'm getting that job i really wanted after all, which means my only real option forward is to take the supervisor role being created in my office.

they want me for this role. everyone at office level who advocated for its creation had me in mind. it's not really a career path i'm interested in, but it's something.

only problem is my patience and tolerance for Nightmare Coworker is getting shorter by the day. she blew a gasket again today when some r&d folks—whose arrival had only been mentioned to me offhand—showed up. because she wasn't told by the manager herself. she stormed away to go on a walk, came back, and stormed away again to have a long chat with the manager. manager is apparently only doing what the previous one instructed her to: rely on the two point people in the clinics. which, yanno, makes sense.

(fuck. maybe i should take the managerial track. so i can be there for my team like my managers in this job haven't been, and fire the fucking toxic mold spore before she infects the clinic.) (and honestly, because no one has left over her yet, that's likely why nothing has happened. but where the fuck am i supposed to go? back to the fucking donut shop???)

Nightmare Coworker is in absolute denial that she is not The Best, in denial that people with some modicum of power in our office want me promoted, and in denial that it could ever fucking happen. the only thing she has convinced herself of is that i'm going to "get promoted and leave" which. i fucking WISH.

but here we are. no offer in sight for the thing i want most right now. no exit signs for hundreds, if not thousands of miles from here.

i want to take that damn supervisor promotion, but i can't even message my own manager without Nightmare Coworker reading slack over my shoulder and then having a meltdown about it. how am i supposed to go talk privately to my manager, have an interview with her? Nightmare Coworker's going to fucking flip her shit when the reality of an internal promotion with my name on it comes to light. and i DON'T have the energy to cope with it. the only outcome that might not break me is if she has a massive meltdown and quits on the spot. no notice. and i don't know how realistic that is to expect.

myself and others at this office are surprised and demoralized that Nightmare Coworker was not fired months ago. and honestly in hindsight i think Old Manager was far too soft. he was supportive, but too supportive, to the fault that accommodating everyone means accommodating no one. and current manager is spread paper thin, which is why she needs an office supervisor. but the window to get this person fired without invoking catastrophe has long since passed.

i wish i could turn my cold, frozen fear into spite or vengeance. to internally be grinning from the sidelines as i light the match and toss it into the massive pile of kindling and firewood that Nightmare Coworker has dug herself into, and set her ablaze. i wish i could feel anything other than fear.

[1eeminho]

kinda think studying psychology and then deciding to become a therapist was the worst decision of my life. i wouldnt do anything differently if i could have another go at it i think but still.