#maybe I could ask my GP if I can go on that medication again that helps me sleep and eat so I can actually eat more

[jarate-enjoyer]

I'm hungry and I'm watching cooking videos to compensate that

[roonyxx]

Healing Love: Part 2

Summary: You have a normal life as a nurse, and you are content with it. But then a storm called Dean Winchester rolls into it and you get swept away by his charms. But secrets linger and threaten to drown you both.

Pairing: Dean x Witch!nurse!reader

Word count: 2455

Chapter warnings: angst, wounds and medical stuff (i am no professional and have no idea what the real treatments are), fluff.

support me :)

Healing Love Masterlist

My Masterlist

Deviders made by @firefly-graphics, give her some love!

The day at work seemed to last forever but eventually your shift ended and you hurried home, you jumped in the shower to shave, scrub, wax, all of it.

By the time you fed Quinn and are all dressed up it is seven.

You check your phone, no news. Which is not abnormal, he might be driving.

You sit on your porch while waiting for Dean to show up.

Seven thirty rolls around and no news.

You dare to send him a little text.

“Hey, it was seven at my place, right?” you send to him.

No answer. It’s not even read.

Quinn can feel your sadness at being stood up and lays his furry head on your lap.

“Perhaps he’s just late.” You tell him while stroking his ears.

Or he stood you up…

Around eight you go back inside and take off your heels. You really thought he liked yesterday’s kiss…

Was it a bad kiss? To you it was the best kiss ever. But maybe not to him? Is that why he ghosted you?

A smile blooms on your face when you hear your phone ringing, but as soon as it came it fades at the unfamiliar number.

“Damn spammers.” You mutter while hanging up.

Was it a little high hopes on your side that Dean wanted to go out on a date with you? Maybe… he is extremely beautiful. But he was the one who suggested it. It made no sense.

The number pops up on your screen again and you grunt while you hang up. Only for the number to pop up again.

“Jeez this one is motivated.” You sigh.

You stare at the number, maybe it’s work?

Not like you have plans for tonight anyway. You pick up.

“Hello?”

“Is this Y/N?” A strange voice asks you, but there is something similar about it.

“Yeah? Who is asking?” You frown.

“My name is Sam, I’m Dean’s brother, we need your help.” He sounds in a hurry, or worried even.

“My help?” That couldn’t be good…”Where is Dean?”

“He got hurt, badly… I know you don’t know me but- but he needs you. I will send you coordinates, could you come to us?”

“If he’s hurt badly he needs to go to a hospital.” You say, hurt again? Yesterday the cut, today this…

What are they involved in?

“That’s not an option, please Y/n, I- I don’t think he will get through the night without you.” He sounds so desperate.

Rubbing your face you grab your big bag for emergencies. “Send me the address, I will come.”

“Thank you” he sighs with relief “I sent the text, you text me when you’re here. Hurry please, Y/n.” And then he hangs up.

Walking with your big bag to your car you check the coordinates.

Who uses coordinates? You put them in your gps and see it’s just on the edge of town. You speed down the roads to get there within thirty minutes.

You get out of your car and frown, there is nothing but an old factory and woods here.

You send your text to Sam, telling him you’re here.

The big metal door of the factory opens with a loud creak.

“Y/n! Hurry, he’s in here.” Sam says from the opening.

You hurry down the little steps and follow Sam inside and look over the railing with wide eyes.

This isn’t an old factory…

The magic inside you immediately reacts to the sigils that are hidden in the walls. This whole building is magical, powerful. Your magic eases against the sigils with a soft hand, reassuring them you are not a threat. Once they are soothed they stop oppressing you like an intruder.

Inside is a very big room with many lights and machines you don’t understand. A big world map table lighting up in the middle.

And on that table is an unconscious Dean, bleeding heavily from his stomach and his face is covered in blood from a cut you can’t see.

“Oh god…” You run down the few stairs and get to the table.

“What happened!” You scream at Sam while you get to work.

Ripping open your bag you get out your stethoscope and listen for his heartbeat. It’s there but weak…

Bloodpressure is too low, he lost a lot of blood…

“What is his blood type?” You ask while cutting open his shirt.

His stomach… It’s shredded, this needs a surgeon, not a nurse.

“His b-bloodtype uhm” I can see Sam shaking in the corner of my eye, “we’re both O.” He eventually says.

“Sam…”

“I can’t explain what happened, he got c-cut open. Please… do something.”

“I’m not a surgeon.” You pant, the panic and magic rising within you.

He needs my magic but…

But the way he gets hurt every day, no hospital, the magic of this place...

Your eyes water while looking at his unconscious face, of course he has to be a damn hunter…

Hunters murdered your friend ten years ago. You swore to her to never get near a hunter again, it was the last thing she asked of you.

You have plenty of catheters and bags to make a blood transfusion. It’s not at all like the protocol in the hospital but it will have to do.

You can’t let him die.

“Sam, you need to get me some tape, water, a bowl, a lighter, and all the bandages you have. Go now.”

Sam nods and runs out of the room.

Giving you the chance to be alone with Dean.

You put on your gloves and start cleaning his stomach as much as possible to see the damage.

Definitely werewolf claws…

You grunt, “I can’t stitch this much shredded skin…”

You look over your shoulder to make sure Sam isn’t here and take off your gloves to start rubbing your hands together.

They heat up and start glowing with a golden light, you make your hands hover over his wound.

It is impossible to heal it all, your magic untrained and rarely used. But you will do what is possible.

You know that with training you would be able to heal a lot of things, but using it is very dangerous and it drains you. A lot.

You focus on healing the cells of his intestines, healing every precious organ that is inside, then you focus on the peritoneum, the bag that seals the intestines.

Sweat is forming on your brow and you wipe it away with your sleeve to prevent it from falling inside his wound.

Dizziness is creeping in and you push your magic to knit his stomach muscles back together and heal the edges of his wound, you can stitch them when they are less shredded.

You are panting heavily by the time your magic runs out. But you check his wound and are satisfied to see his muscles are perfectly closed.

You thread your needle, black spots are creeping into your vision but you push through.

Sam comes running in with everything you asked for.

“Tell me what to do.” He says.

“Check his head, find the cut and tell me if it’s deep, clean up as much as you can.”

He nods and does exactly that while you stitch his layers of skin back together.

“It’s not deep but bleeding hard, it’s just on the edge of his hairline.”

“Keep pressure on it and use butterfly bandage to put it back together. It should hold.”

I finish with my stitches and put a big bandage over his stomach, then wrapping a compression bandage around his entire waist to keep it all in place.

You move next to Sam to check Dean’s head, it is indeed not very deep and what Sam did will be sufficient.

You go to Dean’s arm and put in a catheter, you give him some antibiotics to fight of any bacteria that got in his open wound and a shit ton of pain killers, then you move to Sam.

“Sam, sit, he needs blood.”

You grab his arm and start drawing blood to make a transfusion.

After Sam donated the maximum he can, you make shift a pole to hook the blood bag so it can slowly enter Dean.

“You’re both very lucky to have O.” You sigh, exhaustion is starting to claim you but Dean can’t stay on the table, he needs to be comfy. You give Sam just a little time and hand him a cookie to get his sugars up.

“Can you carry him?” You ask Sam.

He nods “I can. W-will he be okay?”

“He can’t stay on the table. I don’t know yet, I gave him a lot of pain meds, he should wake up in a few hours, or his heart can stop from the trauma.” I say as my eyes stay on his chest, that’s slowly moving up with each breath he takes.

Alive. He’s alive.

Sam carefully picks Dean up. You stay close, making sure the blood bag stays above Dean’s head.

Sam walks him through the enormous building and reaches what you presume is Dean’s bedroom and puts him in the bed.

You arrange his pillow and cover him so he doesn’t get cold, then grab a chair and sit next to his bed.

You take off your smart watch, turn on the sound and wrap it around Dean’s wrist, a faint beeping noise sounding that follows the rhythm of his heart.

“Get some rest Sam, I will be here, if his heart stops, my watch will make an alarm noise, I will stay here, making sure he’s okay.”

“I want to stay here.” He argues.

“I can’t have you in the room when he crashes, which is a chance. Go to bed, try to rest. You will need your strength when he wakes up.”

If he wakes up…

Sam gives a little nod and reluctantly leaves.

You slump in the chair and watch Dean breathe. The exhaustion will claim you soon, so you learn forward and touch his chest, putting your very last magic into his heart. The weak rhythm of his heart starts to pick up,  with your magic it became stronger.

With the reassurement that he won’t die, you stop fighting the exhaustion and pass out.

“Y/n?” you hear your name being faintly said, but your eyes won’t open just yet. Your body feels as if it is submerged in deep dark waters, every movement feels heavy and hard.

“Y/n?” your name is repeated, and you can feel yourself rising up to the surface of consciousness.

Your eyes peel themselves open and made contact with two spring forest green eyes.

Dean.

Dean!

Your eyes jump open and you reach his side.

“You’re awake.” You gasp, you check the watch around his wrist and see three hours have passed, his heartbeat and blood pressure are not perfect yet but they are good enough.

“How do you feel?” You ask him while taking off the now empty blood bag from his catheter.

“Not great.” He winces with a small smile, “But seeing you definitely helps.”

He still looks very pale.

“Pain?” You ask him while getting some more painkiller in a needle and putting it in his catheter.

He nods.

“This will help.”

He carefully lifts the covers to see his stomach, all wrapped up. “The last time I looked here I saw inside myself… I thought-“ he swallows hard and looks at you, “I missed our date.”

You can’t help but chuckle, “You almost died and you’re thinking about our date?”

“I was looking forward to it.” He defends.

“Me too.” You softly whisper.

“This isn’t what I had in mind as a date.” He lowers the cover again, “How did you get here?”

“Sam called me urgently, saying he needed my help and let me in. Good he did, I managed to help you, the next weeks will be hard, Dean. We will see each other a lot more. You talked about me to Sam?”

The smile he gives you is far from weak, “To see you a lot more doesn’t sound bad at all. I did… I was excited to tell him about you.”

You give him a smile back, blushing at how he wanted to tell his brother about you.

How you ever doubted for a second to not use your magic to heal him.

You would risk it all just to see him smile.

“What was your idea of a date?” You ask him to keep his mind, and perhaps your own, off how close he came to dying.

“Something cheesy, like a picknick in a field with a pretty sunset. Dropping you back at your place after we had a great time and then, then I would kiss you again.” He says.

You smile, “So you’re a romantic guy, huh?”

“Very.” He grins and tries to lean towards you, only resulting in him hissing.

“Careful!” You say and help him adjust his position by putting your arms around his naked shoulders and tugging gently on his pillow.

“That’s the second time you ripped of my clothes, you know if you want to see me naked sweetheart, all you have to do is ask.”

“You’re such a flirt.” You smile at him and realize how close your faces are together, you glance down at his lips.

“I regret not kissing you tonight.” He whispers against your lips.

“Tonight isn’t over yet.” You whisper back.

He smiles and closes the gap between you two. Kissing you deeply.

You carefully cup his face, kissing him back.

He moans when your tongue brushes against the seam of his lips, asking for entrance, which he grants.

His hand comes up to brush your cheek. He tilts his head to the side and deepens the kiss, more moans spilling out from his mouth.

You’re panting against him, your hands slipping in his hair as you get lost in him.

A harsh hiss breaks you apart and you see that he tried to pull you closer, resulting in hurting himself. You slowly peel yourself away from Dean.

“You need to rest,” you pant, your lips swollen and wet from his kiss, “No excessive moving for you for at least two weeks.”

“The idea of taking a nurse on a date is much sexier than in real life.” He grunts as lays back down more comfortably, “No excessive moving, so no kissing?” he gives you the biggest puppy eyes, almost as cute as Quinn’s.

You blush and say “Only kissing is okay. Calm kissing.”

“I can survive with calm kissing,” he smiles then winks, “For now.”

You blush even harder and smile.

“Rest Dean, you need it. I will be here.”

Forever Tags 2024: @jay-and-dean @flamencodiva @snowlovespie @awkward-and-indecisive @hobby27

Dean tags 2024: @akshi8278 @pink-sparkly-witch @verytoadpapersoul @eevvvaa @muhahaha303 @alwaystiredandconfused @deansimpalababy @globetrotter28

Healing Love tags: @deans-spinster-witch @kr804573 @suckitands33 @bitchykittenconnoisseur @brightlilith @snowayumi

send me an ask if you want to be on any of my tag lists! (or if you want to be removed)

[requincouche]

What's your favorite season of the year?

Spring !!

I love Spring... My body hates spring, due to all the pollen and dust in the air, but I love spring ^^. It is so pretty to see the nature come back to life after months of grey-brown inactivity. Winters aren't cold, where I live, though they're still cold enough where it gets kinda annoying and you wish for warmth.

Though, the good thing is that this year I finally got annoyed enough about hay-fever that I did several visits to my GP to ask for other medication, and be insistent that I get something which actually works even if it's expensive for me to buy. I used to get cetirizine and loratidine prescribed, whichever the doctor preferred... Although these are cheap, but neither of these did much for me xD. Maybe it'd take the edge off, I really can't tell cus hay-fever is such an all-or-nothing ailment for me. Either I'm using 100 tissues per day, or I'm using 1. So I got bilastine, which initially did nothing much either.. but doc said I can take up to 4 pills of it per day xD. So now I take 3 if it's really bad (primarily in late May, and early June) and 1 or 2 if it's milder (July, August, September).

Hm. sorry for this personal excursion... I don't like sharing really personal-personal details about myself, especially when it's medical stuff... Though I find my rampant allergies for the things that I love so much kinda funny ^^. xD my previous GP insisted on testing for which things I'm allergic. I told him that it's just grasses and trees and it doesn't really matter for the outcome (= me taking a pill to stop dying during the day). But he was concerned that I'd get allergic as well to other stuff like cats, dogs, house-dust, peanuts, shell-fish and that can be really dangerous if it develops further. Hm so I said sure go ahead, but please not one of those skin-allergy tests where they poke the skin on your back with a whole bunch of allergens. Those are so awful xD. Alternatively, the test could be done from a blood sample. Yes, please do that, take a tube of my blood and test whatever you like. But the results from it were so inconclusive xD. I think the way they test this is by using an ELISA-like test where the blood is deposited into an array of allergens onto a plate or paper or whatever. But cus those allergen-spots are next to each other, if one of them is very very strong; its signal will leak into the surrounding ones. So the results were that I was allergic to 'everything', including things like peanuts and cats which I know I'm not allergic to. But yeah the spots for grass and trees were so strong that their signal leaked into all the other spots. Kinda useless test, if you think about it. But I refuse to do that skin-prick allergy test again. Makes me feel like there's a whole tree under my skin 😂, the itch from it is so intense

[one-equaltemper]

🎀 below the cut 🎀

Hermione isn’t typically clumsy. In fact, she’s never really been one to take a tumble— never really scraped her knee as a child or landed on her hands, leaving her palms raw and gravel-filled. Other than her unfortunate, but also fortunate, injury the night she met Draco, she’s not really one for needing any kind of medical attention.

She’s never had a stay in a hospital, never needed to urgently see her GP other than for the flu or that time she was down for nearly a month with glandular fever during her first year of university (a little gift from Ginny’s brother after she let him stick his tongue down her throat once). She’s lucky that way and she knows it. Still, she remembers as a kid being a little bit envious of the attention given to a girl in her class when she’d broken her arm. For ages she considered that maybe, possibly, an injury of that sort wouldn’t be too bad.

Alright, maybe not her whole arm but…even a toe! A broken toe couldn’t be too painful.

Alas, it was never in the cards for her. She stays out of the A&E, out of the hospital entirely, out of her GP’s office except for her annual physical. No cast for her friends to sign or sympathy to gather. Just her perfectly healthy, non-injured, never-broken-a-bone self.

Until, of course, a normal, everyday walk with Ginny, a larger-than-necessary iced coffee in her hand and a tote bag over her shoulder, her sunnies slipping down off her nose as she rummages in her bag for the book she’d just finished reading that her friend had asked to read next. Her sandals are a little bit loose because they’re rubbing against the side of her foot and the pavement is a bit cracked and uneven because…well, it’s London, and her attention is entirely elsewhere when she trips over one of the stupid little cracks and crashes to the ground.

A blinding pain rips through her arm but all she can focus on is the way her iced coffee has exploded on the pavement, splattering her white cotton dress…a complete and total waste of £3.50.

“Oh fuck.” She hears Ginny’s voice from somewhere above her but her neck is stiff and her temple is pounding. “Shit, Hermione, you’re bleeding. Oh God.”

She groans and catches sight of her plastic cup, iced coffee pooling on the pavement and pieces of ice scattered about and…she pouts. She hadn’t even been able to take a single sip before she’d ended up sprawled along the pavement. Her mouth has gone all dry and funky and—

“Hermione? Are you even listening to me?” Ginny asks, her voice halfway to a shriek. “Fuck. Oh— fuuuuck, your head. You’re bleeding!”

Her hand automatically comes up to press against the throbbing spot on her temple, rubbing the spot like she might be able to make the ache go away, but when she pulls her hand back she catches sight of something red on her fingertips. 

Paling, Hermione gracelessly pushes herself up to sitting and stares unmoving at her fingers, coated in her own blood. “Oh fuck,” she murmurs, mimicking Ginny. “Did I cut myself?”

“Stop moving! You’re getting blood all over your dress!”

She frowns and looks down at the white cotton, twisted awkwardly around her hips and exposing the tops of her thighs, rubbed raw from her pavement landing, until she sees a bright red stain spreading along the material. Her mouth falls open in surprise and shock— how much could her head possibly be bleeding?!

Lifting her hand once more, she touches the throbbing spot on her temple, wincing as she looks at her fingertips, once again coated in fresh, slick blood. 

“Oh my god,” she mumbles, her breath coming fast. “Okay…okay…um, head wounds…head wounds bleed a lot! But i-it’s okay. It’s fine!”

Ginny groans, grabbing the hand she’s waving at her face and holding it still. “It’s not from your head, it’s from your arm! Now, stop moving, I’m— I’m going to call an ambulance.”

She frowns, peering down at her arm, finally seeing the jagged, torn skin along her forearm, profusely bleeding and dripping down onto the cotton of her dress. It’s…utterly disgusting. Her stomach clenches at the sight, her arm a mess of blood and bits of gravel, the skin torn. She’s too afraid to look too closely, to see what lies beneath— muscle, bone, sinew.

Her uninjured hand claps over her mouth and she looks away, taking in a deep breath through her nose and closing her eyes shut tight. If she looks at it any longer she’s absolutely going to be sick, right here, fallen down on the pavement next to her spilled iced coffee and a nice big jagged rock that seems to be the culprit for her predicament.

“Don’t call an ambulance,” she mutters, catching sight of Ginny pulling her phone from her pocket. “I, um, I’m okay. I’ll just…I can go on my own.”

Ginny glares at her. “Hermione, no. You’re bleeding literally everywhere and people are staring and no one is just going to ignore you walking down the pavement like this!” She whisper-shouts in a way that makes her feel like she’s being scolded.

“Do not call an ambulance,” she repeats, pushing herself to her knees. “I can walk— there’s nothing wrong with my legs.”

“Well there’s certainly something wrong with your head—”

“Ginny—”

“No! You need to go to A&E—”

Hermione groans, stopping her slow movements to stare up at her friend. “Ginny— listen to me. If you call an ambulance you know where they’re going to take me and I…I cannot go there. He’ll absolutely lose his shit over this.”

Ginny stops, mouth popping open with her hand propped on her hip. “Are you kidding me? Your boyfriend is a doctor, you’re injured, and you don’t want to see him?”

Blowing out a low breath, Hermione holds up her uninjured arm, making grabby hands at Ginny. Clasping her arm, she steadies herself and very carefully, very slowly, pushes herself up to standing. Once she’s relatively balanced on her feet, she cradles her injured arm to her chest. 

“You don’t get it, Gin. He’s so protective of me, he’s never going to let me out of his sight again.”

“Well, I don’t really blame him! You look like you’ve been shot!”

Hermione looks down at her dress and grimaces— she’s not wrong. There’s a deep red stain all over the skirt of her dress but also over the bodice, right across her chest where she cradles her arm. It’s odd, though— she doesn’t feel much pain from the gaping cut, not like she should.

Maybe that’s…not a good thing.

“Shit,” she mutters, eyes closing just as she staggers on her feet, swaying. “Shit.”

Ginny wraps her arm around her waist and huffs. “Fine, I won’t call the ambulance. But we’re going to the closest hospital and if you stumble once I will make the call.”

“But that’s—”

“Shut up, Hermione, and walk before someone thinks I shot you."

[charlie-lec-stories]

Dirty Little Secret - Part 5.2: The whole truth // CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc / Original Female Character

Series Summary: Charles' wife went to The Other Side and came back, but her past did too.

Chapter Summary: Y/N finally finds what happened with Maud. Max has to risk everything for a friend and Charles does the one thing he never wanted to have to do again.

Series Warnings: Death, descriptions of CPR and a car crash, sexual comments and implied sexual acts, mentions of blood, mentions of suicide and depression.

Author’s Note: This is a special I decided to write inspired by Halloween and the Qatar GP, it's five parts long. It's the first time I write something for this page instead of editing thing I have written before, I hope you guys like it. Rate: +16 (descriptions of medical procedures).

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"En in dit laatste geval, zijn er de afgelopen twee jaar zes mensen vermist in het bosnd". Y/N heard Mikel Horton say on the news.

"Six people, that's crazy, Max". She told him and he just grunted.

"I don't understand why people think the woods are the problem". Maud added while applying her makeup. "I know it's a maze there, but if something happens that's literally the best place to hide, no one can find you there. If people are stupid enough to get lost, that's not on the woods".

"Well, I kind of agree with that". Y/N said, Max finally looked up from his phone. "I hid there the other day, to skip Math and that horrible test".

"You hid in the woods to skip that test?". Max asked incredulously. Maud just laughed out loud.

"Mate, my mom would literally kill me if I don't pass that test".

"She's gonna kill you for skipping anyways". And to that, Y/N had nothing to say. They heard a car park in front of the house.

"It must be him!". Maud said, excited. It was 7:55 PM. With Max and Y/N's help, Maud climbed out the window.

"Have fun". Y/N said and she smiled.

"I owe you guys!". She jumped down the remaining height and ran off to the car.

She felt chills with the anticipation of finally getting to go out with Connor. The warm Spring breeze moved her dress around and gave her hair a little messy touch that actually complimented her. She jumped a little when the car window rolled down and inside, she didn't find Connor. The guy in the car was a little older, maybe in his early twenties and he gave Maud the feeling that she should go back inside. His black hair covered his eyes a little, he kind of reminded her of the emo bands Max loved so much, but when he looked at her he didn't look that threatening. He told her that he was Connor’s cousin, Martin, and that Connor got out of practice late and asked him to pick her up and take her to Connor’s house. He smiled at her and she saw the happiness get to his eyes, blue like Connor's. Her phone buzzed in her pocket and when she pulled it out she saw her date had sent her a direct message on Facebook. "Did Martin pick you up yet? He's my cousin". She answered with a simple "yes" and got in the car with Martin. They talked for a few minutes, she told him about racing and he said that he knew nothing about that, but that he gladly hear all about it some other time they meet. She smiled at that, maybe Connor really liked her, he sent his cousin to pick her up and take her to his house after all, that must meant that he wanted her to meet his family at some point. Martin started telling her about his life in Amsterdam, but then Maud noticed that they were going in the wrong direction.

"This is not the way to Connor's house, you should have turned right, not left". He looked at her and, for a fraction of a second, Maud could see him frowning.

"I just need to do a 'quickie pit-stop'". Maud felt her heart skip a beat. 'Quickie pit-stop' was something that she told Connor, one of those times they talked about races. How did Martin know that term if he knew nothing about racing? She tried to unlock the door, but for some reason, the lock wouldn't lift.

"What are you doing?" Martin asked her in harsh tone.

"I want to get out". She started pulling at the lock, desperately, but it wouldn't budge.

"What? Why?". He grabbed one of her arms while still driving.

"Stop the car, I want to get out!". With as much force as she could, she loosened his grip on her arm and tried to pull out her phone. He tried to snatch it from her and the argument turned into a fight. She did what she could to keep her phone and he tried to drive while moving his arm around, looking for it. He stoped the car in front of the woods and she took the chance to try and break the window. Martin, not having to drive anymore, finally took her phone away and threw it to the backseat. Then, he tried to keep her still, but she was fighting him with everything she had.

"Just stop it!". He yelled at her and followed that with a smack to her left cheek. Understanding that things could only get worse, Maud did what she could to jump on top of him and scratched his face as much as she could. She just tried to move fast, not giving him time to respond to her attack. Martin, on the other hand, was surprised by her fighting back. On top of him, and still attacking him with one hand, she opened his door and threw herself out of the car, falling harshly to the dirt road. Instinctively, she ran to the woods, looking for a place to hide. She could hear Martin calling for her and running not too far behind, but that only made her run faster.

The woods were dark and the little moonlight that filtered through the trees made the flowers shine. She tried to remember the type of flowers she saw, to make sure that she'll remember her path back home. The warm breeze she loved earlier became a humid atmosphere that made her sweat even more and between that and the fear she felt, her whole body was shaking. She found something that looked like a small cave and hid there, waiting for Martin to go away. She waited for what felt like an eternity, thinking about why she had to say yes to this date and how she could be so stupid to fall for all of that. All she wanted was to get back home, to turn back time and never jump out of that window. But she couldn't, and now she felt the humid air of the woods hit her skin like a thousand knives.

The minutes passed by and she thought that she was safe to get out and run back to the town. She barely made it out of the cave when a pair of hands grabbed her and threw her to the ground. She looked up, finding Martin on top of her, a pocket knife on his right hand. He never said a word and she wanted to know why. Why do this to her? Why? But she never got to ask, a sharp pain paralyzing her instantly. Maud wanted to look down, to actually see what he did to her. Looking down made it real and she wanted to forget. So she went back home, back to Max and Y/N, to her parents, to school. She went back to that morning and her mom making breakfast, the smell of the butter hitting the pan and instantly melting filled her nose. She went back to school and how excited Y/N and her were that Max was coming back from his karting race in Spain. Then to that afternoon and all the planning they made for the fake sleepover, how her best friends promised to help her choose an outfit, without even thinking that it would be the last thing she ever wore. She remembered the last hug she gave her parents before getting out of the house. She was so deep into the memory that she never felt the second stab, or the third, she didn't feel anything, just her mother's arms tightly around her frame as she breathed in her perfume. Lastly, she went to one special memory, the day she met Max. She knew that he was the one the moment she saw him, but she was so scared to ruin their friendship. She looked at the flowers, shining in the dim moonlight, all orange, yellow and purple. Closing her eyes, she let Max's blue orbs be the last picture she brought up.

Martin felt like he couldn't stop, maybe he didn't want to, he didn't know, but he had already done it. He got up and looked at the kid one more time. The mess he made was terrible for the business, but the merchandising was useless dead, so he didn't care much about that. But it was a shame, she was prettier than most. Still, there were a lot of 14 years-olds naive enough to pick up. By the corner of his eye, he saw some movement, like a shadow, and before the predators could smell the blood he decided to leave. Those woods were a lot more terrifying that he expected and now he felt more like the pry. He saw the shadow again but this time, he didn't feel threatened by it, in fact, he felt like the shadow was glad of what he did. He looked back, discreetly, and saw the shadow cover the body of his victim. A sense of safety fueled his body and gave him the strength to run back to his car, he wasn't that deep into the woods anyways. He heard some rustling behind him and stopped in his tracks to watch the body be dragged into the small cave. Assured that the evidence of his crime was erased, he finished his run to the car. He never expected to encounter the supernatural, and for sure he never expected it to help him cover up a homicide, but he was glad that he did. Back at the car, he picked up the girl's phone from the backseat and texted her friends, letting them know that she was having the time of her life with Connor and hinting that she wanted it to never end. Around 10 PM he told them to go to sleep and they told him, or their friend actually, that they were going to bed and that she should call them when she was going back to the house so they could help her through the window. He sent a smiley face and after 5 minutes turned the phone off. He drove back to Amsterdam, broke the phone and threw it away. He expertly covered his tracks and started working on the next clueless girl he could find on Facebook.

The tears in her eyes made the adjustment to the darkness of the cave a lot harder and her shallow breaths weren't enough to let the oxygen into her lungs. There was this suffocating hurt inside her chest as she felt what Maud felt that spring night, over a decade ago. She hugged the jean jacket close to her chest wishing for it to be full of life, full of Maud. The silence around the cave was deafening, like she was unable to feel anything. But then, she felt the faint touch of hand on her shoulder. Not letting go of the jacket, Y/N turned around ready to face her destiny in the hands of the shadow, but instead, she found her little friend, still 14. She looked exactly as she remembered her, her bright blue eyes and shiny blond hair, the beautiful half smile that always adorned her face was still plastered on her features, like it never left. Y/N extended her hand, slowly, afraid that the smallest of touches could make her disappear. She noticed her hand was a lot smaller, her wedding ring baggy on her finger and it caught Maud's attention.

"Your wedding was so beautiful". Maud said in a whisper and Y/N felt herself shred more tears at the sound of her voice. She missed her voice so much. "I remember how we used to talk about getting married and our weddings when we were younger. I'm so happy that you got to live that. You deserved it".

"You deserved it too". Maud smiled at that. Y/N recognized her own voice a lot higher in pitch. She understood then, they were back to were they left off.

"Max looked great. I couldn't help but think about how good he would of looked at our own wedding". They shared a bittersweet giggle.

"He still loves you, so much". Y/N could see the pain in her friend's eyes.

"I know and I will always love him, but he needs to move on. He needs to be happy. You should have never came back here. You should've stopped looking for me long ago". That confused Y/N.

"What do you mean? You came to me after the crash, you asked us to come back". Maud shook her head quickly, frowning.

"I can see you, but I could never contact you out of the veil. It was her, the shadow, she was the one that lured you here". Maud looked around, making sure they were still alone. "She's... death. The Death, or, I guess, one of them. She feeds on us, the living, every time one of us dies. She lives in the woods and, at night, she gets people and eats them. Like she ate me".

"She's been trying to eat us, all this time". Maud nodded.

"I've heard her for years, complaining that you and Max never got out of the tent. She loves it when people give into her, she doesn't like to take you, she likes to break you. She likes to get healthy people and make them... I can't even say it. She says that it tastes better". Y/N shut her eyes tight, disgusted.

"But how did she make me see you like that? She was never able to do that before". Sha had never hallucinated before, not matter how hard the trip to the woods was.

"When you died, in Qatar, you crossed the veil. She saw that and you bonded, she bonds with everyone that crosses. That bond probably went back with you when Charles and the doctors brought you back". Y/N remembered her crash, and for the first time, she was able to remember the short time she was dead. She saw Charles, trying to bring her back, desperately doing CPR, begging her to stay with him. Then, in front of her, there was the shadow. It got closer and closer, until it touched her face. She felt like everything got colder and Charles' voice was further away. Looking down, she saw how she was flowing into the shadow. But when she thought she was gone for good, she barely heard someone yell "clear" and a burst of energy went though her. The next thing she remembered was waking up in the hospital, Charles by her side and Maud's rotten figure at the foot of her bed.

"She just wanted me to come back to the woods so she could take me. She knew I would bring Max too". Maud looked at her, sad.

"The only way for you to get rid of her is destroying her".

"We have to go to the camp, we need to tell Charles and Max to leave. She's gonna try and get them too". Y/N tried to get up, but Maud placed her hand on her shoulder again and stopped her movements.

"We can't". She saw the confusion that tinted her features and the realization hit her. "Oh no". Y/N just looked at her, impatient. "Y/N, love, you're almost dead. That's the only reason you can see me, you're at the veil again". Maud took Y/N to the entrance of the cave and showed her something outside. "That's you, holding onto the little life you have left. She hasn't took you yet, once she does, she'll bring your body here, to her collection. Like she did with me. For now, she can't take you. You haven't given up. Charles and Max have to find you and bring you back. But you have to destroy the shadow first, or she'll haunt you until she can take you".

Max and Charles ran to the cave as soon as they understood that Y/N was taken by the shadow. At the entrance of the cave, Charles faced a sight he saw before but he never wanted to see again: his wife dead. Max, who had took a bag from the camp before sprinting off, kneeled next to her and took her pulse. Sighing, he opened the bag and took out some needles. Charles looked at him puzzled.

"You have no idea how much illegal stuff you can buy on the internet if you have enough money". Max told him, sensing Charles' confusion. "Now I'm sure. The shadow, I know what it is".

"What is it?". Charles wasn't actually sure if he wanted to know the answer to his own question.

"It's a Reaper. A Death. I suspected it with the amount of people that went missing here in the last 15 years". The Dutchman moved Y/N's body to make her lay face up and with her arms and legs extended. He then turned around, towards Charles. "Listen. This needles have two cocktails. One to stop the heart, one to restart it. You are the best one doing CPR, Charles. You brought her back once. I need you to bring us back again".

"Us? Max, what the fuck do you thing you're doing?"

"Do you really think that the Reaper will let her go again so easily? Someone has to give her a hand, I'm not good at CPR, not as good as you. You can bring us back". Charles knew that arguing was pointless. "Start doing CPR to Y/N, I'll inject myself. Give me 90 seconds. She she'll be back by then, and you inject me the other other cocktail. There's a hand defibrillator on the bag. If I don't come back in two minutes, use it on me. I promise you, Charles, I'll bring her back to you". And with that, Max laid next to his best friend and stuck the needle in his arm, while Charles started CPR on his wife... again.

"She's back". Maud informed Y/N while they hid in a corner of the cave. They had spent a minute trying to think how to defeat the shadow.

"We have to attack it now. I've been dead for three and half minutes, I have to go back before seven or I'll have brain damage". Y/N told her. They had no plan and no weapons to attack this being that they didn't even know how to kill. But if Y/N had to go, she'd go swinging. They were about to jump on her when Max suddenly appeared next to them. He looked young again and for a second, everything felt fine, they were all together again.

"Maud". Max said, perplexed. She smiled at him, without thinking, they both jumped to each other, melting on the hug they waited so long for. "I love you. I have loved you my whole life".

"I know. I love you too and I always will". He squeezed her tight, but she knew they couldn't waste time. "Listen, the shadow is-"

"A Reaper". Max finished, proudly. "I figured it out".

"We have to destroy her or she'll never leave Y/N alone. But we don't know how". Max tried to explain everything quickly.

"I know. Before the trip I did a little research. You need to grab her so I can force my hand inside its chest and touch her heart, or something like that, it was an old book, it'd free the energy she ate and kill her.". Maud's eyes grew bigger at his explanation.

"Its core, you have to touch its core". She sad excitedly. "I know where it is, it's where my life went when I died".

"We don't have much time, Y/N's been dead for four and a half minutes".

The three of them ran to it, Y/N and Maud grabbed it by what seemed like its arms but when Max tried to make his hand go through the shadow, it hit her chest like it was a hard surface. The Reaper angrily pushed them away and jumped on top of Y/N, starting to eat her life. Maud and Max were desperate, he looked at the entrance of the cave and saw Charles doing CPR on Y/N's body, giving it his all. He couldn't fail Charles, he promised him to bring his wife back to him, he couldn't let him down. Maud understood immediately what she had to do.

"You're not fully dead, not yet. But I can go through her. I can destroy her". Maud turned Max's head around and quickly pecked his lips. "I love you. Please go back and live the life we both deserved, live it fully".

With that, Maud ran to the shadow and forced her hand through its back, getting to her core. The shadow pushed her off and Max ran to Y/N to keep her safe. He looked back at Maud, their eyes meeting for a brief moment, then she didn't simply forced her hand, she forced her whole being into the shadows core, both of the exploding in a bright white light. Max felt different, he felt like he wasn't caged anymore, he felt light. Picking Y/N up, he dragged them both to the outside. Charles was there, stopping CPR to inject Max. The blond felt the shot of adrenaline through his body and in what felt like a blink, his eyes opened and he was looking at the sky, back in his body and back his age. He saw Charles going back to CPR, Max sat up as fast as he could and went to grab the defibrillator, he knew that Y/N was weak after what the shadow did to her, she needed a hand coming back. Charles cut her shirt open. Max placed the pads of the machine on her chest and followed the instructions it said out loud. The machine said "clear" and they both moved away from Y/N. Her body went stiff and then relaxed, then the machine informed that there was pulse again.

They went back to the town and straight to the hospital to have both Y/N and Max checked out. When they were given the green light, they told the Chief of Police about the cave, that was a lot bigger when they went back. The power of illusion the of the shadow made people believe that it was a small cave when it was actually a bigger one. Thirty-six bodies were found, Maud included. Her family did a little service for her and Max and Y/N got to say good-bye again. Y/N went back to visit her parents and then the three of them went back to Monaco. On the plain, Charles and Y/N talked.

"I'm sorry I lied, the truth is I was so ashamed of what happened, felt so guilty that I thought you'll never love me if you knew". She sighed and looked at him, trying not to cry. "I understand if you want a divorce. I know that everything I did, the lying, the hiding, it was all wrong". Charles took her hand and brought it to his lips, giving it a soft kiss.

"Do you remember that night at the bar, where you told me a secret so I could tell you one of mine?". She smiled at the memory, of course she remembered. It was the first time he finally let go and kissed her like he meant it. He kissed her with the love she wanted him to give her.

"Yeah, I could never forget". Charles sent her one of his signature smiles.

"'Today I was rooting for you, and even though you DNFd, I still feel like a winner when you look at me'. That was the truest and more honest thing you've ever said to me, I know that. So believe me when I tell you this: I've been feeling like a winner since the first time I laid my eyes on you, 20 years ago, on that karting race". She finally let her tears fall and he kissed them all before they could reach her jaw.

They had a lot to work on, a lot to overcome, but just like they overcame this madness, they would fix this too. Because they shared a little secret:

They were winners together.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Okay! This was not my plan at all, I wanted to publish this TWO WEEKS AGO but shit happened and I couldn't. I'm really sorry for the cliff hanger.

So... the end! I cried my eyes out writing this one. I hope you guys liked this, I really enjoyed writing it. I hope you felt scared and happy and sad and had fun, that's the whole point of this.

I'll be active again, now that I think I will have more free time.

See you all on the next story!

[my-castles-crumbling]

hey cas,

so, i dont really know exactly how to word things right so please bear with me while i try to explain a bit.

i think i have bipolar disorder (or something similar, im still looking into things), but i dont know if im just going crazy and imagining things. theres not really anyone in my life i can talk to about it to gauge their opinion, so im kind of left by myself to deal with it.

i dont have a trusted adult or loved one i can go to for help, and ive not been to a doctor since probably 2017 at the latest so im not even sure who id be making an appointment with to discuss anything like this. ive considered trying to get myself into therapy but im afraid that if i go in saying that i think im bipolar and have other mental illnesses (im about 99% certain i have anxiety and likely some sort of depressive disorder too, but that might be more linked with the mood swings of bipolar) that its the wrong way to go about it? like, i might just be really ignorant but i dont think thats how therapy works is it?

basically im worried that if i go in saying the disorders i think i have, then theyll tell me im exaggerating or that i need other people to back me up or that i do need to see my gp doctor (which, again, i dont actually think i have one) or that it isnt my place to try to diagnose myself etc.

im not really sure what im asking here? maybe if you have any advice/experience about what therapy is actually like or what i could expect? or a better way to go about getting help? i really dont know honestly aha, sorry

Well, you've definitely come to the right place lol, I've been to and ghosted many a therapist! (Don't ghost your therapist!)

Actually, recently I started therapy again and it's been a great experience, so let me tell you about it. Warning: I live in the US, so if you live elsewhere, it might be different.

When you start therapy, they're going to ask you a LOT of questions. Lots about your background, your childhood, your feelings, etc. It'll feel a bit invasive, but make sure to be honest! Like brutally honest. Like if you're like...'I might be feeling this way but idk if I'm faking..' tell them that. They need to know everything.

Then, if you're a minor, they'll talk to your parents and get their insight. If you have issues with your parents, make sure to tell them that BEFORE this part happens, so they can take what your parents say with a grain of salt.

Last, they'll give you a 'tentative diagnosis.' This means that this is what they think you have, but it's not a die-hard medical diagnosis. They'll treat you based on this, but if you ever wanted accommodations in school or anything for it, you would have to go to a clinical psychiatrist to get it written up.

Here's the thing: the diagnosis my surprise you or even make you feel invalidated. If it does? Tell them that. Because, two things: One- they may have gotten something wrong. Or two- they need to know if you aren't understanding something fully.

To be very personal, I am diagnosed with both depression and anxiety. When I started therapy recently and again got those diagnoses, I wasn't surprised. But I also was told I have 'illness-anxiety disorder' which is the new term for a hypochondriac. I was super insulted because I was picturing the stereotypical hypochondriac who fakes illnesses for attention (this was uneducated of me) but my therapist explained that this version of anxiety more means that I have a lot of anxiety related to being nervous to get sick or the results of getting sick. Which was like- oh. yeah. I do panic every time someone sneezes on me. My therapist said this has become increasingly common since COVID.

All this to say it sounds like seeking out therapy might be a great way for you to get the answers you're looking for. But even if they're not the answers you think they'll be, remember that your feelings and experiences are still extremely valid and no less real.

<3 <3 <3

[b-blushes]

medical/health stuff (maybe upsetting? but also this is just my life so my gauge is off 😅)

god okay. this time last year i was feeling so ill that i went to the dr like 'something very bad is happening to me it feels like there is something wrong with my cells. like. my cells are empty' and i had some tests done and one of my results was pretty low so i got 'treated' for it - levels increased by not quite 3x original result. dr says that's fine and i stop the treatment (low level meds). feels like i can breathe again. nice. had been feeling so bad that this felt good. this year i am still feeling bad. gets to the point where i'm like okay i have once again got to go to the dr because my fatigue is still really disabling and i don't want to leave this as 'well you have like 4 different conditions that could cause fatigue so it's probs that dw' because what if there is a chance of feeling less bad. i know i'm never going to be well but i could be less bad. i'm only really able to leave the house once a week for a few hours at most unless i want to get too unwell to like. live my life in isolation at home in addition to that. not ideal for a person to be living with maybe average of 5 hours a week total of 'contact with other humans' but u know how it is being disabled in a pandemic. (bad) i do some research because once again you know how it is being disabled (gps have quite often never heard of some diagnoses i have and do not know how to handle management of them, given that sometimes they have not even known which specialist i needed to be referred to to be assessed or diagnosed when i presented with these symptoms. so i did that research myself and talked it through with them and got it done). turns out the fatigue clinic requires results TEN TIMES my original result so that 3x improvement was not going to cut it. who knows what my levels are like a year later also. so i am going back specifically with regard to this. anyway. go to my appointment and have more tests. back to 2x original which is 5x lower than what the fatigue clinic lists as the lowest levels a patient with them should have. ask to be referred for like. proper treatment this time. i'm going to the hospital next week. (shouldn't be a big thing or have side effects particularly) i am feeling many things about this! i only have access to 4 years of test results for this thing, but in those 4 years i have never once reached the minimum threshold of results set for the fatigue clinic. the best i got was 3/5ths of the way there. if this treatment makes a difference to my fatigue it will literally be life changing. maybe i can, like, live in the world more. the implications on the last however many years of my life though, if this is the case and i didn't have to be living like this all this time, are a bit uhhhh soul destroying. BUT if it makes a difference at least i got there. and at least i've had my back all this time doing what research i can. grateful to all the drs who have listened to what i've had to say and have been willing to make referrals for me when they had no clue what was going on with me. also conflicting feelings about. like. how bare minimum this is and how that's been a 'good' outcome for medical care for me. but we stay silly because what else can we do!!!

[mummasaurus212]

These kids.... oh my goodness, will they ever catch a break?

So yesterday, day care called in the afternoon and said sienna was a bit clingy, a little sad and a bit, but they weren't super concerned as she had all her bottles as well as some solids. But it was also 30⁰c and this winter baby hadn't experienced an Australian summer yet.

Got home after work, she was still warm and a bit sleepy. I checked her temp on 2 different thermometers and got 37.6 and 38. So I left Lincoln home with husband and drove back to town to the urgent care clinic (not emergency). I left feeling a little fobbed off, to be honest. They did a set of obs, and the dr told me that fevers can happen and if anything changes to see our GP. I asked if I should give her any medicine to bring the fever down and he said no, it's not necessary if she's going to go febrile then she will regardless. I asked if I should give it only if she's uncomfortable and sad and he said aw yeah, I guess if you want to but it's not needed.

So today, she's still been upset, still been warm, still very clingy. I gave her some pain relief at 730am. just to see if it changed and she was happy for about an hour. Around 12 she started to feel warm again and I thought maybe I needed to give her more. But against my better judgement and the fact she was asleep (and this drs voice in my head telling me it wasn't necessary). I didn't.

She fell asleep on me for an hour, I continually checked her temp it didn't budge from 37⁰. She woke cried a little so I decided to try feed her and call our GP to arrange an urgent appt. While on the phone to the nurse to be triaged. She unlatched, rolled, stiffened her whole body like she was going to scream, but instead, she started to shake. My poor 7 month old baby was having a febrile seizure in my arms. I was telling the nurse what was happening and she said to call the ambulance. While on the phone to them her face started turning blue and she continued to shake. After the longest 1.5 minutes of my life, she started to come round and just cried and cried. I called my husband and said he needed to get home asap and waited for the ambulance.

We went to the hospital as her temp was over 39⁰ and they needed to find what was causing the temp. All other stat's were ok, thankfully.

We got to the hospital, they gave her some paracetamol and nurofen and she started to perk up. She had the biggest feed she had all day. And fell to sleep.

I was terrified. I didn't know what to do. There was nothing I could do other than just wait for her to stop. Thankfully, she's OK, and they think its a viral infection causing the temp, and we just have to give her paracetamol and nurofen around the clock.

I'm kicking myself, though. i should've trusted my gut and given her the medication. But she was sleeping and he said sleeping was fine..

I don't think it's hit me yet. But she won't be very far out of my sight for the next few days .

Trust your gut, mummas

[aquilacalvitium]

hey i saw your post about the eating tips and it really resonated with me. I got diagnosed with arfid in spring last year but I've been struggling with food like that since 2019. I can also recommend getting a nausea stash, with comfort items for when your stomach is upset. mine contained mints and ginger ale and eating became a lot less stressful now that i had things to take when i felt nauseous rather than waiting it out. I also ate a lot of crackers and other light food. but my biggest recommendation actually is to see a doctor and mention issues with appetite. last December I got meds for excessive rumination that listed weight gain as a side effect and it straight up reset my appetite. the overthinking hasn't stopped at all but i am feeling properly hungry again 3 times a day. it is such a relief to not have to fight your stomach to stuff the necessary calories in it. I no longer have to optimize my diet for maximum nutrients but still being light on the stomach, it now actually has to fill me up. (this is a bit of a problem actually, as executive dysfunction makes preparing food still just as hard as eating it once was.) and now that food is more pleasant cooking is also slowly becoming less daunting, because eating is actually a reward for the work i put in, rather than just another challenge. in my case antidepressants likely kickstarted my eating disorder, so if meds are the cause it's really not that bad of a deal to ask your gp to prescribe meds to solve it. in two months I went from fighting to stay at 108 to comfortably cruising to 115. we might decide to change pills/dosage again next week but the last two months have been such a huge win for me.

That's a lot of personal growth, congratulations!

I do think seeing a doctor about my disorder might be a good idea, although I have issues with taking medication that I won't go into here. As for a nausea stash, I'm yet to come across any kind of food I can stomach while nauseous except maybe hot chocolate, but even that is a stretch :(

Now that you mention it, it's worth considering that my own antidepressants have affected my appetite. I've always had eating problems but it only really became apparent how bad those problems are after I left education and became stuck at home 24/7 which is also around the same time I started my antidepressants. I mean it could just be that I was no longer relying on packed or bought lunches for half the day, but it's worth considering.

[shwoo]

I got my ADHD medication back! And now I should be able to get it from the GP. The psychiatrist says he sent the letter last time, and sent another one with me CC'd in so I could show the GP. She had received it, but I guess hadn't seen it yet? But it should be okay now, and I shouldn't have to spend nearly $400 every six months to keep access to my brain-have pills.

Also, before that, the shortage for the antihistamine the doctor said I should try ended, so I managed to get some. I took some, and then drank like three or four cups of water. That's actually a good thing, because plain water doesn't normally feel refreshing to me, and my body can't seem to hang on to it. I still need to drink electrolyte fluid, but maybe less now? It's too soon to tell.

Also, I woke up in the middle of the night last night, which isn't a good thing, but also I could breathe with my mouth closed! Not forever, but for longer than I normally can. Whatever that was wore off after a little while, but it was encouraging.

And I feel a little less dead than I normally do at this time of night. So improvement does seem to be happening, even though I'd like some more specific diagnosis and treatment. I'll talk to my immunologist when I see her in March, I guess. I asked the GP about it today, and she said again that I'd probably get dismissed unless I asked two specific people who aren't taking new patients and live hundreds of kilometres away, but I want to at least try. Even if she's right, I'm better off than I was, and medical understanding of mast cell disorders has improved a lot, and is probably going to keep improving. I'll just keep doing my own research.

[mercurygray]

14-raindrop for Isobel Corbett

Newcomers to the blog may not recognize Isabel - she's an OC for All Creatures Great And Small, and she is the daughter of the Darrowby GP.

It was what people called a nice soft rain.

Soft it might have been, but rain was rain, and today it meant that there was precious little foot traffic in the surgery - no one out courting a cold who didn't already need to be. Isabel had already restocked the dispensers for tongue depressors and rolled cotton swabs, checked and double-checked that there were linens in each of the surgery's two exam rooms, and finished all her charting. And it was only two pm. There was a copy of The Lancet to hand, but she'd already read it twice - even the advertisements. A smarter woman would have brought a book, she thought crossly to herself.

But how would that have looked, in case someone did bumble in complaining of something, and found her reading? Of course it would be one of the town matriarchs, and she'd catch a glare for being slothful and a black shame on the medical profession, and they'd tell everyone for months afterwards that the Corbett girl was a doctor, yes, a woman's touch was said to be - but at what cost? She's still so young - and they do call medicine a practice, don't they? They would much rather see the elder Corbett - more soothing, you know. (But if it was her Dad tucked up behind his desk with the newest Cristie, oh, ever so sorry for disturbing you, Doctor Corbett, just a tickle in my throat.)

She had been vaguely considering offering to make Mrs. Braithwaite, thier secretary, a cup of tea, but the pattern of the raindrops had caught her eye, and she couldn't help standing for a minute to watch them chase each other down the window pane, merging and pooling along the ledges.

And there was something beyond the raindrops, too - a queue at the bus shelter, across the square, a line of lads in flat caps and overcoats, collars pulled against the rain and huddling under umbrellas while they waited for the 2:45 to York. Every single one of them had a hold-all of some kind, or a backpack. Off to join up, Isabel realized bleakly. One of her old classmates had written her just the other week that he was joining the Medical Corps - North Africa, apparently, or Malta, if he could manage it. Think of all the sun, Izz, Sydney had written. I'll be as tan as a movie star when we're done.

She'd written him back with all the usual pleasant things, leaving her real thoughts safely stashed in her desk. I don't think it'll just be sitting out in your beach chair, Syds, or working on your golf game.

It'll be like - little drops running down the pane, getting bigger and bigger until they break.

They keep telling everyone to do their bit but they wouldn't take me, now, would they? No one will - not even little old ladies who need prescriptions written.

"Penny for them?" Mrs. Braithwaite asked, bustling by with a file for the cabinet in the corner where the medical records were kept.

"Just thinking that it was going to be a little quieter in Darrowby this spring," Isabel said, turning quickly away from the window before Mrs. B could see what she was looking at. "Can I help start a pot of tea, Mrs. B? I think there are chocolate bourbons in the tin."

"Bless you, Miss Corbett, I should see to that," Mrs. Braithewaite said pleasantly, locking the cabinet again; "There's no sense taking you away from your work. You stay put and I'll bring you in a cup."

Maybe this is just what I am, then, Isabel thought sadly, trying not to turn back to the window. A woman who watches raindrops - and can't even be relied upon to make her own tea.

[rhiamaykes]

Yesterday I was out with my rollator, I don't go outside much, in fact having lived here for two and a half years it was the first time I was spending some time out locally and it was because I had four hours to kill in-between two appointments at my GP clinic and I wanted to actually enjoy a bit of being outside for once.

What I didn't think about in advance was that I was eventually going to need to urinate, like I said, I really don't go out much, but I figure this will be fine because I'm surrounded by shops and restaurants.

It was not fine

McDonalds had disabled priority seating, but only an upstairs toilet and no lift.

The charity shop wouldn't let me use their staff toilet

The big department store only had upstairs toilets and no lift.

I went to a large supermarket with trolleys and parking, they had no customer toilets, and the staff member I asked was looking at me (sweaty with pain from walking, and very overweight from medications and PCOS) with such disdain I didn't bother asking if I could use the staff toilet.

Eventually I went into the library, which was a really nice old fashioned building so I was doubtful it would have an accessible toilet, and both their women's toilet and disabled toilet were out of order, at this point I am really desperate, but I'm thinking the librarians might know where there is a working accessible bathroom, or just let me into the disabled one because maybe only the sink isn't working or something and I've got sanitiser.

Thankfully the librarian said the upstairs (accessible by working lift) children's bathroom was accessible and I could use that, and escorted me to it in case I needed more help. (Apparently the downstairs bathrooms have been out of order for a while, and now all the bathrooms are unisex, they just haven't been given new signage)

Bless that librarian

It is ridiculous how difficult it was to find somewhere to pee. If I had been in my hometown I would have known exactly where to go in town center, but it is also just one department store in the middle of a small town, and again, I really haven't been out and about with my rollator much.

This is the first time I've felt really helpless in public because I was disabled and there weren't any accommodations.

I did not care for it, I don't want to feel like I can't go to new places because I might not be able to use a bathroom anywhere, I'm already worried about how much pain I'll be in from walking and how many days it will take me to recover.

I'm also so happy that I finally got to go to the library and set up an account, now I'll be able to use Libby to rent books, because most of the books I own and are in my TBR list are just too difficult for me to read with my levels of fatigue most days, and now I can rent books I'll hopefully actually be able to read.

[running-in-the-dark]

sooo my mother is once again thinking that she's gonna die soon and I'm just so fucking exhausted

her GP did a blood test and something wasn't great so she has to go back to discuss that. and of course that means she is going to die, like, next week

which, I mean. with her health issues that isn't entirely unrealistic. but it still doesn't make sense to think that based on what she has told me. and like. even if that was a thing... the way she talks about it is just.. it's so fucking hard to deal with. maybe I'm just too sensitive but it's not fucking great to go from her telling me about her new bike, and then immediately telling me about the blood test and without any warning she says 'if I die in hospital, do you think they'd let you take me home? I want to be home for two days after I die'. it's like, oh nice a lighthearted conversation about her bike, great, and then immediately it's just death.

like there's a time to discuss these things and it's good to know what she wants and all that... but not like that, not without any preparation, not when I specifically told her I don't have much time. she could call me, she could ask all of us to sit down and talk with her, but no.

she doesn't care how this stuff affects anyone else, she just wants what she wants. before, I would have offered to go to her appointment with her. but I won't do that anymore. all it leaves me with is stress and anxiety and bad feelings. she always gets angry and yells at me and insults me. she's never grateful that I'm taking the time to go with her, she's just mad because I can't do anything right ever.

and to be honest.. I don't want to know about her medical issues. I don't want to hear it. I don't want to think about it. she has said many times that she doesn't want any treatment, she doesn't want to go to the hospital, she doesn't want any of it. so it's pointless if I know all the details. it was pointless with my dad, he didn't care or listen to what I said, he didn't care how any of it affected me and my brothers, and neither does she (I'm not just saying that, it's a fact). so I'm just done. I can't handle this again.

she's never been supportive, she's never been there for me, she's never helped me with any of this. for fucks sake, *I* had to comfort *her* when my dad died. they were divorced for 15 years. he was my dad and I was his caretaker. and still it was all about her and her feelings and I didn't get so much as a fucking hug. so no. I can't do this again, I won't do it, if she's ill she's ill, if she dies she dies.

I feel like a horrible person but when the day comes when she does actually die, it'll be a relief. I can barely say that out loud but it's the truth. she's only ever been a negative influence in my life and I just want to finally be free of her.

[yourgamemasterthewhiterabbit]

Okay so the muscle thing is mostly over and mostly healed and the rash is gone but now I am waking up with all my joints full of swelling and knives, broken glass? maybe?

Either it is autoimmune and the antihistamines and anti-inflammatories are the only thing keeping it from being worse

OR

It's gout from all the medication bogging down my liver's ability to process our uric acid specifically and taking medication of any kind is making it worse now

If I stop taking the antihistamines and my muscles start falling under attack again the destroyed cells will go back to adding to the problem of "I have a liver mutation that keeps it from processing out bilirubin as stupidly fast as it does everything else", and will make everything worse when I have to start taking the meds again anyway

Gee... It would be really helpful to have some on demand blood tests done instead of having to make an appointment and wait 3 months to see anyone about ordering tests... They could confirm whether I have gout [test for uric acid levels], what my ana results are [maybe let me know when the autoimmune attack is over], and test my general liver function atm, but no, there is obviously no instance where a person might know what tests they need done without a doctor's say so [this is sarcasm, I think anyone with chronic conditions should have an approved lists of tests they can ask a lab to run at any time without having to go through a doctor's approval for every one, even if their GP also gets a copy, I think this would be important for symptom management].

I wake up barely able to move at all and I have pretty much 0 choice about forcing myself to do groceries and walk across a city twice anyway this week.

[sugarcult]

So I learned the part about fucking up your liver the hard way. From the ages of 7-18, I had no healthcare. Literally none. My dad took me to the doctor and paid out of pocket for my vaccines so I could go to school twice, but I never went to the doctor unless there was something very seriously wrong with me. I had the swine flu when I was ten and remember being so sick I legitimately was afraid I was going to die, and I never went to the doctor even once during that time, because my dad couldn’t afford to take me. Because of this, about a year after I started menstruating, my periods became debilitatingly painful, but my dad couldn’t afford take me to the doctor, much less to see a specialist. So I survived from the ages of 11-16 entirely on willpower, ibuprofen, and occasionally Midol. (Not sure if it’s available in other countries, but Midol is an over-the-counter medicine created specifically to address symptoms of periods.) I regularly bought 250 count bottles of ibuprofen and would go through them in about 2 months, then buy more to continue to function.

Between the ages of 15-16, my periods became painful enough twice that I had to leave work in the middle of a shift (could not afford to miss work) and have my dad take me to the ER. The first time, we sat in the waiting room for five hours without being seen, and I eventually started feeling a little better so I asked my dad to just take me home and I spent the next day in bed. The second time, I was seen within about an hour.

Over the course of the day, since I had been working and trying to tough it out until the end of my shift, I had started taking Advil (ibuprofen) and Midol early in the day and increasingly more frequently as time went on, because I was so desperate for relief. You are supposed to take an absolute maximum of 8 Advil per day. By the time I went to the hospital, I had taken 15 Advil and a handful of Midol (maybe 4-6, because Midol had never been very effective for me so I did not rely on it as much).

So anyway, I was at the ER. They took some of my blood, and I waited in a room for like two hours hooked up to an IV. (No idea what they were doing that whole time, because nobody came back to check on me until immediately before I was discharged. I imagine they were severely understaffed.) A doctor I’ve never seen before comes into my room while my dad is outside smoking and tells me they couldn’t find anything wrong with me and that they’re going to send me home. Then he launched into a lecture about how taking that much over the counter pain reliever was going to kill me because it would cause my liver to shut down. I was already aware that I risked damaging my liver, but I didn’t realize it was to a severe enough extent that I could die. Regardless, I was incredibly angry at the doctor’s response and told him that I could either rely on OTC pain reliever or I could starve to death from missing work and not being able to afford food. He did not take this very well, I think because he thought I wasn’t taking him seriously. I was taking him seriously, just explaining the nature of my situation.

I tried to cut back on pain reliever or at least switch ibuprofen and acetaminophen to minimize damage to any particular organ. At the age of 20, I was diagnosed with a chronic pain disorder. Shortly after, my periods became less painful. No idea why, possibly because of the medication I started taking, but even unmedicated, I haven’t experienced those issues again to that degree. However, I was in regular enough pain elsewhere that I was still taking pain reliever nearly every single day.

Six months later, my GP told me I had liver damage. I had Fatty Liver Disease, which can be a precursor to cirrhosis of the liver, something that killed my grandfather about 6 months before I was born. I stopped taking pain reliever altogether aside from my prescription, and I still don’t take it except on very rare occasions (maybe 2x per year). Thankfully, my liver healed over the course of about a year and my Fatty Liver Disease has not come back, which is great!

But, it is important to me to be transparent and add that the only reason my liver disease was caught is because I had had access to healthcare for only two years since being a kid, and that I had a serious enough health problem that I had to go to the doctor regularly. And it’s also important for me to add that, while my liver issues have cleared up, my chronic pain is so debilitating that I have had to leave 3 jobs in two years due to the pain of doing various tasks and I am currently unemployed. I don’t know if this is because my chronic pain is objectively worse or if it just feels worse because my pain is not medicated. But I do know that I am not capable of “toughing out” the pain anymore and thus can’t reliably work.

This is why so many Americans buy ibuprofen in massive quantities. It’s because a lot of us do use them that regularly, even knowingly at our own expense. Because for a lot of us, we can go to the doctor and go into immense debt, or we can manage our pain without a professional’s help and work long and hard enough to maybe afford to go to the doctor one day when we “really need it.” And probably not even then.

wait americans can just. buy massive bottles of ibuprofen what the fuck

[g-kat423]

Hey! I just wanted to say that I am so sorry for everything that you have been going through, and that I hope it all gets better soon. Advocating for yourself when trying to get a diagnosis is one of the most taxing things there is, especially when you are already so worn out by your symptoms.

Unfortunately I am not from the US, so maybe this won't be helpful at all, but have you requested that your healthcare providers write it explicitly on your patient records that they have denied you diagnostic imaging and medication? I have read that this method has helped some chronically-ill individuals get their diagnosis before, because it can make doctors/insurance providers feel liable if it does turn out that you had something serious that could have been identified sooner if they had provided the exam. Especially if the exam doesn't pose any risks to the patient, the paper trail pushes them to err on the side of caution.

No need to reply to this if you don't want to. Just sending good thoughts your way! And if it is worth anything, know that there is at least one Internet stranger who has faith in you.

Hey anon I know you said I didn’t have to reply but I didn’t want to leave you hanging. So the thing is I’m not really confrontational and I’m to great at advocating for myself. I also worry that because I’m young and I have a history of psychiatric hospitalizations they’ll just label me as a drug seeker when I really couldn’t care less about the drugs. Pain meds would be nice of course but I’d rather find the source of the pain and try to eliminate it rather than keep throwing pills at it. The closest I ever got to saying anything was when I was practically begging for a CT scan to ease my mind about pulmonary embolisms(I was tachycardic and coughing for like no reason) and was still told no, only to go back to the ER days later with an even higher heart rate where they gave me the ct and it was clear, thankfully, but I feel like I have a record now of getting “unnecessary” testing and will be taken less seriously if I were to start asking them to document them refusing or not ordering tests I want since all of my tests seem to come back normal despite me feeling like I’m dying every day 🥲

The only thing I can really do now is wait for my referrals for specialists to go through since the ER is only going to do the bare minimum to make sure you’re not actively dying and I’ll have to wait to see what testing the specialists want to do since my gp doesn’t have the authority to order testing(shit is weird here with insurance so only specialists can really order tests because they’ll try and say the gp doesn’t have the expertise to authorize things like mri’s or ct scans etc. and then insurance won’t cover it. It’s a mess).

Also it’s nice to hear someone has faith in me. I don’t have much for myself and everyone around me irl has given up because they’re fully convinced it’s all in my head and that I just want to stay home and do nothing which is not the case, I get zero enjoyment out of this since every day is the same and I barely sleep and I can’t focus to enjoy any of my old hobbies so it’s not like I’m sitting around all day binging junk food and playing my favorite games which is what I would do if I wasn’t sick and had unlimited money tbh lol. Instead my days consist of finding positions where I’m in the least amount of pain and passing time until my body lets me sleep again.