#med school woes

[crswoodferns]

I need you to look me in the eye and tell me how people still think time is real

How else do you explain zoning out for literally half a second in class and suddenly instead of writing the name of the new chapter; sitting in an exam hall with questions on your paper and question marks over your head

[sparklysubbyprincess]

.

[night-triumphantt]

Did u guys know, that we apparently take 140 or something exams this year, possibly more bc I can’t rmr the exact number, not including the first boards exam,,, (possibly 2 boards exams bc they don’t respect DOs nd who knows maybe I like surgery lmao) which is just, wtf, like idk I actually thought ab it and that’s evil lmaooo

[oflgtfol]

i was talking to my therapist last week about how i'm kinda excited but also equally apprehensive about starting grad school this fall because yes, i so so desperately needed a gap year otherwise i think i literally would have killed myself and/or had a breakdown big enough to land me in the hospital, and even beyond that i just needed to figure out a more concrete plan of what i'm going to do with my life in general -- while all of that is true, and i'm glad i took the gap year for it, i'm also apprehensive because i genuinely feel like an entirely different person than i was even at this exact point in time last year, nevermind anything earlier than that. it's only been a single year of me being out of school but my life has changed so dramatically, mostly for the better, and my whole personality has flipped on its head, it's just going to be so fucking weird going back to the same school, the same campus, potentially seeing my old friends around. augh

[alvinmichaelmurphyseville]

“Greetings, once again. It is I, Nerdy Alvin or Full-Nerd Alvin. I’m not sure what I’m calling myself.”

“I am delighted to inform you that one day of the 12 hour ADHD medication has helped me ace two quizzes and one big exam.”

“Computer Science class, meet my untapped genius. I am EXCELSIOR!”

“I shall miss this soon. It’s late and I can feel the effects fading. It shall feel nice to hyperfixate on random things again though. It’s impossible to do so while my brain is “Simonized.”

“I don’t know why I said I hate taking these things. They’re not so bad when I reassure myself the side effects I don’t enjoy are temporary.”

“I shan’t need them tomorrow. I’ll be back to short release ONLY IF my classes aren’t going well. It’s a pity. I hate to leave this (what’s the word I’m looking for?) significantly more competent and mature state of mind. But, the cycle continues. I must depart. Farewell.”

[pastelchad]

I can strongly relate to Sisyphus and his eternal agony because I work in radiology

[liaisun]

motivation: writing aaron minyard applying to med school

motivation to submit my applications to grad school 🥹

[dangermousie]

A protagonist of a cdrama taking psychiatric meds? Miracle land.

Something that really gets me about this whole sequence is not even that he sees her distraught and comes up with a way to cheer her up for even a little bit (despite the fact that he himself is even more destroyed than she is, his innate kindness is so deep set and his care) but that he does it without letting her know it's him - earlier he texted her if she's fine and she lied she was and he let it be even though he saw with his own eyes it was a lie.

And so he follows her lead - he accepts her lie and texts back accordingly, and then the panda thing? He never removes the mask so she assumes it's a random stranger who knows nothing about her or her woes and it's just a random act of kindness from a stranger; she can accept this and cheer up precisely because it doesn't seem personal and targeted. What strikes me about this scene is not his kindness or concern but his delicacy. He lets her have her privacy and her pride and takes her lead in how much she wants to share. And it's such a contrast with his "friend" who follows him to that school and pushes and pushes and breaks through all the boundaries, boundaries set by a traumatized and very private man, because what he wants/thinks is more important than the person he cares for would like. Zan, on the other hand (perhaps because he's had his privacy invaded), gives Song Ran all the privacy and dignity he can.

He only removes the mask when she can't see...

PS This is from the credits and I am soooo curious wtf is going on because they are clearly in a normal civilian place (hospital?) but I think he's lost it utterly.

[3-2-whump]

Sequel is here

next>

Hi everyone,

Thank you thank you thank you for sticking around for the follow-up story to Eternal. I want to acknowledge my beta readers @whumped-by-glitter and @generic-whumperz , who have probably read like five versions of this same damn chapter. Thank you for sticking it out with me you two, I couldn’t have done it without you ❤️

Some quick asides, I don’t know/can’t guarantee this is gonna have the same consistent updating schedule as the previous story. Irl nonsense like job woes and trying to apply to grad school have been demanding more of my energy than I’d like to give, but I will try to update regularly. Thanks for the understanding in advance 🙏🏽

Well, without further ado…

Mountain Bike

TW/CW: allusions to past whump. You could probably start the sequel without reading the first story, though, but if you want to know exactly what our main character is running from, I highly recommend The Morgue

Dr. Vikash Gill was having a great day today. He’d gotten up early, went to the gym a few blocks away from his house, and came back home to make a quick toast and coffee. He went well into his first few hours as a resident doctor in the emergency department without any serious injuries to treat. In the background, on every television and phone screen, news about the murder of a well-known mob boss spread like wildfire, with suspicious undertones of gang activity throughout the tight-lipped reporting from the news outlets. Now, he was on the way back to the hospital from his quick lunch break at the café around the corner, ready for another five or six hours of work.

Like most people in the medical profession, he loved and hated his job, and like most people in the medical profession, he had plenty of stories to tell. From bullet wounds to stabbings and a whole host of suspicious injuries in between, Vik had treated it all at this point, and he had received every fantastical story and explanation with an apathetic indifference.

Like his mentor Dr. Kimura had said, “We’re doctors, not detectives, the best thing we can do is to shut up, treat their wounds, and get them out the door ASAP,” or something like that. Whatever she told him almost a year ago seemed to stick though, as he stitched up every gang member and staunched the blood flow of every mafia soldier without so much as a blink of an eye.

There were more than a few times where Vik wished he had studied medicine in a small-town rural community instead, somewhere where the biggest injury was something normal like a tractor accident. During those times, he’d make himself remember the ‘mountain bike accident’ that he treated just over a year ago.

The man was a few years younger than him, according to his charts, but his small, skinny frame and big, sad eyes made him look even younger. He had a unique set of tattoos, singular black bands on his neck, wrists, and ankles. He came in completely naked with a broken nose, hand-shaped bruising all over his body, a torn rectum, and a back carved up like a Thanksgiving turkey. The older man who came in with him –Thomas J. Costa, the dead boss who most probably fucked with the wrong gang and found out– claimed all those wounds were merely a ‘mountain bike accident.’ Vik knew that was bullshit, yet there was nothing he could do at the time, being only a med student. Now, with a little more freedom and experience with being a licensed doctor, he hoped that he would be able to help that poor guy, and other people like him, should the opportunity ever come up again.

A chime went off on his phone just as he rounded the corner on his way back to work. Vik fished around his pockets for his phone, not looking where he was going until an unexpected force collided into him at speed. It knocked him back on his feet a little and pushed his glasses askew up his face. Vik completely forget about his phone for a second as he began to curse out the stranger who’d just run into him. “Hey! Watch it you-…wait…” Vik adjusted his glasses. The curses died on his tongue as he came face to face with a familiar young man with a dark floof of hair, the saddest dark brown eyes, and a visibly distinct tattooed band on his neck. He may have been fully clothed now, in a thick black hoodie and skinny jeans with a suspiciously growing red stain on the right thigh, but Vikash Gill would recognize that tattoo and those sad brown eyes anywhere. He remembered the ‘mountain bike accident’ that forced them to cross paths; he may never forget that night as long as he lived. “Mountain Bike?!” he asked incredulously.

“A doctor, oh thank god!” the stranger exclaimed. Whether it was Vik’s scrub pants, sweater emblazoned with the hospital logo, or his ID tag that tipped him off, the stranger visibly melted with relief before surging toward him with desperation. “Help me!” The young man’s chest was heaving as he panted around every word. His face shone with sweat and exertion.

Vikash took a step back. “With what?” he asked.

“I need to hide!”

He glanced around the corner where Mountain Bike had come from, but nobody was coming. “From whom? Why?” The stranger wobbled on his injured leg, and Vik instinctively reached out to catch him. “Did you do something? What did you do? What happened to your leg?” he demanded. It was clear that he had been running from something–or someone–and the desperation in the stranger’s eyes as he looked up at him put pressure on Vik.

“I didn’t do anything–well, okay, I might’ve headbutted my new owner and ran away–”

“Whoa, whoa, back up–what do you mean?”

Mountain Bike gripped onto the front of Vik’s jacket, locking eyes with him. “I know this sounds crazy, but I’m telling the truth!” he insisted. He stepped back to give the doctor more space. “Look, you remember me, right?” His eyes searched his hopefully as he put on a strained smile of friendliness. “You sewed up my back last year, do you remember?”

“Sure I do,” he answered, “but I don’t see how–”

“I’ve been held against my will the last several years and I finally have a chance to escape. I’m not making this up, I promise! Please, take out my tracker and I’ll be able to prove everything, just help me!” Mountain Bike begged.

“But, what about your leg?” Vik asked, watching the stranger wobble when he tried to put weight on it.

“Screw the leg! I’ll be fine, I need the thing that tells them where I am out of my body now!”

 “Still though,” Vik rationalized, shaking his head, “how can I trust you?” The guy seemed pathetic enough, but Vik didn’t know him, and wasn’t about to allow himself to be robbed blind or stabbed to death just because he felt sorry for someone.

Mountain Bike quickly detached from Vikash’s side, extending his arms outwards as he stood in a T-pose. “Search me. I’ve got no weapons, and I’m too weak to hurt you in any way that counts,” he said. He flapped his arms a little. “Well, go on, search me!” he urged.

What the fuck did I get myself into? Vik sighed, wondering how he was going to explain to work how late he was from lunch break. Still, the stranger’s jumpy movements and quiet desperation seemed like they were coming from a real place of fear. Vik reluctantly gave the stranger a rudimentary pat-down, like the ones he’d get at the airport. He didn’t miss the way Mountain Bike flinched under his touches, even though searching him was his idea. He stood at least a head taller than the man, so he was able to catch a glimpse of black ink behind his ears. A barcode, and ‘TJC’? He frowned, thinking there might be some credibility to Mountain Bike’s story after all. The enigmatic little puzzle pieces that surrounded Mountain Bike for a year had finally started to assemble into a picture of what had really occurred that night in the emergency department. Once he confirmed that Mountain Bike was unarmed, he stepped back, and the stranger dropped his arms from the T-position. “Okay, you’re unarmed,” he confirmed. “But, how do I know you’re telling the truth? No offense, but I hear a lot of tall tales in my line of work. How do I know you’re in danger and this isn’t some kind of mental breakdown?”

Mountain Bike let out a pained sound somewhere between a groan and a whine. “Come on, man! Do I gotta show you everything?”

Vik fell back on concussion check protocol. “What’s your name and date of birth? What date is it today?” he asked

Mountain Bike sighed. “Khaled Bakhsk, November 22, 1999. Today’s February 22, 2022,” he recited with a roll of his eyes. “I can’t give you the exact time it is, but it’s after noon. Now come on, take me to the hospital and take out my tracker?” Mountain Bike begged.

“Why do you even have a tracker?” Vik asked.

“Because. I’m. A. Slave,” Mountain Bike spelled out. He huffed a frustrated sigh. “You know what, I don’t know what it’ll take for you to believe me, but if you at least find it and take it out, I swear I will never bother you again!” His voice was edged with desperation as he cast Vik the saddest, darkest puppy-dog eyes underneath his long lashes. “Please?”

And honestly, if this stranger was telling him the truth, would Vikash Gill be able to live with himself if he knew he just let this guy be enslaved again? “Fine,” Vik relented, “but I’ll need to find the tracker first, and even when I find it, I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to extract it immediately. Besides–” he cast a furtive glance down at Mountain Bike’s bloody thigh, “–you should at least let me treat your leg first.” He followed the seeping blood trail with his eyes, brows furrowed in concern.

Mountain Bike–er, Khaled’s face lit into a grin as he dropped to his knees and hugged Vikash’s legs. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank–”

“Okay, stop that. Get up,” Vik replied, uncomfortable with both the sudden infringement on his personal space and the over exaggerated gratitude Mountain Bike displayed. “Let’s patch up that leg!” He directed the stranger to follow him to the hospital, where he could be evaluated and get whatever kind of help he needed.

“Remember these words: pencil, dragon, phone, spoon,” he told him. Vik still couldn’t rule out the possibility of a head injury, and one of the tests for a potential concussion involved memorizing a string of words and repeating them back. Mountain–Khaled didn’t respond.Well, it was a great day for Dr. Vikash Gill, but now it was just kind of a weird one.

Le Tag List for The Recovery Arc (also if you want on or off, nbd, just let me know 👍🏼) (also if I missed anybody I am so sorry, I haven’t had to make one of these in a long time 🥺)

@kabie-whump @rainydaywhump @whumped-by-glitter @skittles-the-whumpee @generic-whumperz

@bamber344 @there-will-always-be-blood @morning-star-whump @a-la-whump @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees

@defire @phoenixpromptsandstuff @scumashling

[queersolarfandompage]

I’m rereading a omegaverse Hilson fic, where House is an omega but uses different drugs and hormones to mask himself for an alpha. And he does this all because of John not wanting a son who presented as an omega, but eventually he keeps up with the regimen because it’s just easier this way. There are two fics with this idea and both are fantastic but I’m thinking about what if House didn’t know.

John has a friend who specializes in 2nd Gender Hormones and identifying how someone presents, and he pays his friend off to make his son an alpha regardless of how he presents. So House is told he’s an Alpha with weak hormones and that he’ll need to take Alpha hormone supplements the rest of his life.

Then when House is older and in med school he looks into it and unsurprisingly there are cases of Alpha’s with weak hormones, and while his supplements are stronger then most studies used, it made sense to him.

Until many years later, after meeting Wilson and everything with his infarction. House decided to stop taking the supplements because it’s not like he’s trying to woe any omega. He’d been on the supplements so long House doubted anything would really change.

And the next time Wilson comes over he’s just bewildered because House had gathered all of his clothes and bedding onto his mattress and was pushing and pulling at the fabrics until he was content with the mess.

“House if this isn’t nesting I don’t know what is. Are you sure-“ House interrupts him by standing from his bed, overwhelmed with pride, unsure of if he was proud of himself as an alpha or proud of the tangled mess of fabrics on his bed.

“Youre the emotional one and you don’t see me calling you an omega. Besides this is too comfortable to be limited only for omegas. Check it out.” Instead of waiting for Wilson to respond, House pushed him so he’d stumble back into the mattress, watching the panic fill Wilson eyes as he fell.

The bed, nest, pile, whatever you'd call it was admittedly pretty comfortable before Wilson caught a whiff of House’s pheromones and found himself surrounded by the smell. He shot off the bed as if it had burned him, overwhelmed by everything House.

[ultraadespair]

Im getting that funny feeling again of just, being bored and ready to move on

Kind of a rant kind of a song under cut

I haven’t really been posting these last few weeks, ive been wrapped up in work and school and my projects and getting over being sick. I feel like i never talk about my ed anymore, because im thriving on other sides of this app and I dont want to get t3rm3d a lose all my moots and following, that’s what’s scared me from rebuilding kitten nation.

I guess my ed update is im going to a doctor the one i was suppose to over the summer and im going to probably be in forced recovery, which im okay with. I think things happen for reasons we aren’t sure of and while i wish that i could have gone into recovery at my lowest during the original hard 100, i know I wasn’t ready and I wouldn’t have accepted it. I’m not the lowest ive weighed but i am still very very sick it hinders my ability to function in daily life basic cognitive tasks are too much for me. And ive come to the revelation that this wasn’t my body to contort. I carved it in my image and the more i look back at my medium not on meds weight the more i just see colour and life and the rose under cheeks and light in eyes, it’s my fault really; that all of this happened. It’s my fault. And i dont say that in a oh woe is me, i think that having an ed is your fault. Every day even if not consciously you choose to live this way. I don’t think recovery is possible but i dont want to live another 20 years like this.

Ive already done that. So when I go to the clinic im going to just, let it happen. I think im going to let KC work out and just be healthy. I can work on whatever issue i have with the uncomfortably with looking masculine on my own. When we were younger being thin wasn’t something we wanted or were proud of; it was being strong, and i think im going to let him be strong.

I cant live off of 130kcalories a day and im going to be okay with that, i think i need to go back to therapy, i think that ive done all i can in my isolated system and i am not a god which ironically was the moral point of my source-kind of went over my head-i cant be an adult and do great things if im in the body of a child. I weight less than i do when i was 12.

[crswoodferns]

Fuck BDC. I'm gonna write my own anatomy textbook and call it "Better than BDC"

[immeasurablesaladagere]

Hello salad 🫶 Can I please get some little Taub or Park headcanons please? My underrated kings 🙏

I'll do both!

Taub

Is a middle regressor with an age range of 12 to around 16.

In his ✨💀emo phase💀✨ almost all the time when he's regressed. If he has a say in what he's wearing than it's all black with band T-shirts, skull accessories, too many bracelets, and beanies. He might even get into dark eye makeup if he's feeling fancy that day.

His teenager brain really hates being bald. Almost never without a hat.

Actually becomes really good at using liquid eyeliner when he's regressed, and that skill doesn't transfer to when he's big somehow.

Very "stereotypical 80's movie teen". Kind of has an apathetic "ugh, whatever" attitude about most things and doesn't like being told what to do, lots of demand avoidance.

He is willing to help caregivers out with babysitting though. He pretends he doesn't care but he does and everyone knows it.

"Taub, turn the music on your iPod down, you'll hurt your ears!" - Wilson, yelling

"Yeah whatever, Mom!" - Taub, yelling back (he turns it down secretly)

Stops liking coffee and switches to sugary energy drinks for his caffeine intake instead. He also consumes much more caffeine while regressed if no one stops him.

Most of his emotional woes are being chronically unhappy with his life choices and having a simultaneous quarter and mid-life crisis at the same time.

Touchy about his appearance, as all self-conscious teens.

Likes playing Mario and Legend of Zelda games.

Doesn't have stuffed animals, but he does have a lot of game/band keychains.

Owns a few fidgets like a fidget cube and a Rubik's cube, and has a little collection of magnets to mess with.

Journals (He insists it is not a diary)

-

Park

Little age anywhere from 2-8. She's usually all the way on one end or the other, but occasionally goes in-between.

Didn't know what the heck was going on with her when she first regressed starting in med-school because of the stress, and of course, being a med-student, she jumped to the worst possible conclusion and thought she had a brain tumour or something.

She just nervously sat on that information until her psych class discussed age regression, and then just went "Oh."

Regresses almost entirely involuntarily and due to stress or fear (she also regressed that one time she was on acid, only House really picked up on it). It doesn't happen very often, usually when she's sleep deprived and otherwise upset.

Has a box of the bare-minimum in the way of little gear. A pacifier that's light blue, a colouring book with some crayons, a white bear with a pink bow around its neck, and a little whiteboard list of self-care things so she remembers to actually do them.

Refers to her caregivers very respectfully, using Mr. and Mrs. for everything, or in the case of her coworkers, Doctor [name]. She will not stop calling them that even though they've said she doesn't have to.

Asks people bluntly if they can shut up so she can read her picture books.

The kind of kid where if you sit them down at those restaurants with the paper on the tables for colouring she'll do her best to make a masterpiece and impress the workers.

Will ask you why you look so ugly. She's not being mean, she genuinely wants to know. Absolutely no filter.

Rambles about her current interests and will just keep going if you don't stop her.

Her favourite caregiver is Cuddy, she likes to give her the pictures she draws.

Watches nature documentaries about the ocean and unironically watches the Telletubbies. She loves how creepy they look.

[avellanaslesbianas]

I need to hear more about trans Swain hcs 🫡 (if you also want to talk more about trans Swain muehehheh)

Yippie >v<

I have it very engraved in my interpretation of Swain for him to be transgender.

Narratively is something that further alienates him from those around him, or rather something he uses to alienate himself, because I don't believe Noxian society to be particularly transphobic, I just think Jericho is the type to take aspects of his person that could make him "Other" and built a little psychological shell that none may penetrate.

I usually portray Draven as transgender as well, in contrast to Swain (in a way) also an asshole but one who is sincere on who he is. Swain has associates and Draven has friends checkmate liberals.

(On the more literal side I think Swain went to a professional for his medical transition while Draven got his hormones from the shadiest of places and his top surgery from a friend who barely just graduated med school)

Plenty of his insecurites track down to his mother being the most prominent figure in his formative years, to me Jericho's mother is the type of woman that while full of self-hatred raises a child to be a little clone of herself (and somehow it doesn't work at all but ends up working anyway when it comes to the worst of traits). The crisis in his younger years, which includes the gender related ones, are strongly tied to his relationship with Others and his motherly woes.

I can actually see two alternatives to When he came out

At around 19~20 immediately after executing his parents and joining the military

Or

At 16, his mother didn't give a shit, just found alternatives to diminish him, "if you refuse to be lady you could at least try being a proper gentleman." Yada yada

I view his gender identity as being somewhat outside of the binary, generally because he doesn't feel That human either(may be the autism may be just Who he is), however from age 16 to his late twenties I see him trying to make a performance of being strictly a Man even if it isn't quite what he is, a subconscious attempt to separate himself from the figure of his mother, but also another attempt to not be Other (his subconscious desire for human connection in contrast to he not seeing the point in them). Either way, after turning 30 he likely stopped giving a shit and accepted that he had bigger issues and rolled with it. Not a woman. Not quite a man. Secret Third Thing maybe. I have Shuriman villages to invade and terrorize, who cares.

[actualbird]

Hi Zak! Hope you're well! (^^♪ Uh, trigger warning for periods I guess, so ignore me if you want.

Since Luke is... Luke, he's probably pretty used to blood stains and episodes of pain, so I kinda think he'd be so nice to have as a partner if they're on their period. Like, all the NXX boys would be really nice and sympathetic, but Luke just has that experience, you know?

Maybe it's just wishful thinking, but whenever I'm bent over my toilet bowl trying not to throw up, I like to imagine someone helping me take care of the stains that two pads couldn't hold off for the 4 hours of sleep I manage to get before my pain medication wears off. Luke is my happy place when I'm in pain (cuz I feed off of sympathy).

Anyway, just wanted the opinion of a certified Luke expert. Have a nice day! (*>_<*)ﾉ

hi hi!!! and aaAAAWWW THIS IS SUCH A SWEET ASK!!! i completely agree!!!

luke really would be the least squeamish both about blood and about physical illness woes. his own pain episodes and meds side effects have given him pain and nausea, and while a cis luke would be sure that it's Different With Periods, he'd also be very understanding.

also, luke Grew Up With A Girl Through Teenhood. i like to think that back when he and mc were growing up, he was definitely embarassed at first when he found out about periods and stuff, as boys do, but eventually he got used to it and would be the one mc would call if ever she needs an emergency pad because he'd keep a few in his school bag Just In Case. hes got her BACK

the habit carried over even into their adulthood so not only would luke pearce buy you pads and know the right ones to buy, he probably already has a few ready for you in one of his endless pockets. when youre throwing up, hes there waiting to ask if you need company or if you'd want him to go fetch you some pain meds or a hot compress. when youre cranky from all the Experience And Whatnot, he just comfortably hangs out with you anyway because he knows it Sucks but he still wants to be there for you

luke pearce period pro is canon to me

thanks for the ask, hope you have a nice day too :D

[kohakhearts]

folks you're not going to believe what's happening tomorrow

its friday??? AGAIN????????