#medication whump

[whumpinthepot]

Whumpee who is unable to take their medication (anxiety, anti psychotic, depression, adhd meds, harder substances they’re addicted to, what have you,) goes through withdrawal sickness. Shaking, nausea, brain zaps, mood swings, sweats, disorientation, body pains, headaches, plus their symptoms coming back full throttle.

This could happen for a number of reasons. Kidnapping, apocalypse, lost in the woods, or even not being able to afford a refill. Any of these reasons would wildly change the outcome too. Especially if it’s cold turkey and not tapered down.

Are they being tortured while experiencing the withdrawals? Are they trying to run from zombies but they’re out of breath and shaking so hard they don’t think they’ll make it? Lost in the woods with double vision, and their symptoms crashing down on them while they stumble around trying to find a way out? Or are they safe at home able to lay under soft blankets while caretaker makes them a cup of tea and puts on a comfort movie?

[cakeinthevoid]

Masterlist!

Part 5 — This Edible Ain't Sh—Oh Boy (The Look — Metronomy)

Content: Medication side effects (pain) and injury (mentioned)

By the time Carrie had finished their breakfast, their soft rock playlist had nearly been exhausted. They rifled through their music library on their phone to queue some other genres while waiting for Willow.

Willow was a rather slow eater. They were methodical, seeming to eat the parts to any given meal in a specific order. 

So when Willow had begun gradually picking up the pace, Carrie immediately knew something was off. Their hand began to tremble. Then it wasn’t long before keeping the spoon in hand was a visible struggle. They fought admirably to keep a neutral expression, but the frustration bled through.

It wasn’t a mystery what was causing this, either. 

“If you’d like to take a break, you can. I’ll save your food in the fridge if you still want it.” 

That’s what Carrie did for those first days when Willow began taking the medication just before breakfast. Then Carrie tried a change in the schedule and Willow eagerly adapted. Since then, medicine was first thing in the morning so they could eat after the worst of the side effects faded.

Willow clenched the spoon tightly. It only made the shakes in their hand worse. They really were stubborn.

Carrie sighed quietly. “I keep telling you I have udrophoon. It will help with the side effects of—”

Willow’s spoon clattered on the table as they suddenly dropped it and pushed their chair out to leave.

“Willow…” Carrie got to their feet at the same time as them. They were always opposed to udrophoon. Again, Carrie had some ideas as to why they would be, not all very pleasant, but if it could ease their daily suffering…

Willow was heading determinedly to the stairs, escaping to their room. At least, they were; One moment they were rushing out and the next, they nearly keeled over. They barely caught themself on the console table against the wall.

“Oh Lord—” Carrie rushed to their side, but Willow pushed themself off the thin table, knocking over a potted plant, and stumbled back in the direction of the stairs.

Carrie let the plant roll off the table in favour of catching Willow by their upper arms from behind. “You’re not gonna make it up the stairs,” they said, trying to guide them to the living room. 

Willow tore out of their grasp, whipping around to face Carrie. Carrie had been doing their job for much too long to flinch at the enraged look on their face. 

Willow was breathing heavily, teeth bared, and glaring viciously at Carrie. 

“I know,” they said calmly. “I know.” They huffed a breath of air that was too dark to be a laugh. “Trust me, I know, but I’m not just going to let you collapse and risk hurting your ribs worse. They’re. Not. Healed.” Their voice was firm. “Understand?” 

Willow shook with barely contained rage and medicine tremors, hands balled into tight, shaking fists. They were beginning to hyperventilate.

Carrie brought their hands up slowly, palms out in a placating gesture. Willow’s eyes flicked down to them and back up to their face—and took a stumbling step back.

Carrie felt something inside them ache, as it did for every patient they took in, but continued their gesture. 

They brought their hands to their own ribs and traced the areas where Willow had breaks and fractures in their ribs. “Your ribs probably hurt like a flamin’—hurt a lot,” they amended. “You need to control your breathing, like this.” Carrie demonstrated steady breaths. “Not too deep. Just breathe with me. Better yet, breathe with me on the couch.” They pointed carefully in the direction of the living room.

Willow was wavering, swaying on their feet a little. Despite that, in true Willow nature, they held their glare. 

“Willow. I won’t be catchin’ you like a damsel in distress,” Carrie said, knowing full well they would. “So please let’s rest on the couch.” Then a thought stuck. It was ridiculous but it might be enough.

Carrie cocked their head. “Lay on the couch and you can choose the music?” 

Willow’s gaze sharpened. Carrie was almost certain that the only reason they still stood for another full minute just glaring angrily at them while they were moments away from falling over was for appearances sake. 

They’ve seen it before: they wanted to maintain an image. Institute patients had little control over their care, and so they took what they could get. If being difficult means they would feel a little better on the inside while receiving much needed care, then Carrie would deal with that.

Finally, finally, Willow stepped back, turning to the living room, but held Carrie in sight. They made their way unsteadily to the couch, but Carrie kept their distance instead of hovering too close. 

Willow paused before the couch for a beat before cautiously sitting down. They had schooled their face into impassiveness, but Carrie saw the way their shoulders relaxed—how they curled over slightly with relief as they sank into the cushions. 

It must be exhausting to keep up a front all the time when it was so clear they just wanted to completely relax. Carrie settled into the armchair next to the couch and wondered if they ever would feel safe enough to do so in front of them one day. 

Baby steps.

Carrie was pulling out their phone when Willow suddenly tensed again, digging their fingers into the couch and sucking in a sharp breath. They grimaced in pain, riding out what Carrie knew to be the seizing of their internal muscles. They hissed a breath through their clenched teeth, eyes burning holes into the ceiling. 

“I know, it really sucks.” Willow transfixed their fiery look on Carrie, as if to say ‘really?’ 

“Ok, it really, really sucks but maybe lay down? The music might help? Give you something else to focus on?” They held out their phone to Willow.

Willow just looked at it, hands still gripping the couch with enough force to tear through the fabric if they had claws. They cringed at another wave of pain, clearly wanting to curl into themself more, but resisting. 

Carrie lowered her arm. They weren’t helping them like this. Frankly, they were doing more harm than good for Willow at this point. Too much, too soon, they thought again.

“Here,” they placed their phone unlocked on the coffee table arm's reach from the couch. Then they got to their feet. “I have to clean the kitchen anyway. Tap the red square for music and the triangles to change songs.” 

They were already on their way to the kitchen when they added, “Just call me if you need help” and only realised the stupidity of that statement when they were picking up the fallen potted plant from earlier. 

But when they turned around, they saw Willow already laying along the length of the couch, curled into a vague s-shape, and scrolling through their phone. 

Carrie turned back around to clean the kitchen, lest Willow saw them watching them act even a little relaxed, Lord forbid. So Carrie tidied up. Just before starting to wash the dishes, they heard the faint sound of a synth riff.

Tag : @whumpkinpie :}

[questions-about-blorbos]

This request was sent to us and we made a poll in response to it. Send any Blorbo-related question you want to our inbox and we’ll make a poll on which people can vote with their own Blorbos in minds

[bebs-art-gallery]

By Robin Isely

[bebx]

illustration of an ice pick lobotomy

[whump-in-the-closet]

weak in the knees for situations where a stoic whumpee allows someone to help them. they don't say a word of acceptance but they don't protest either. Too injured to say no and too tired to deny they need it. Just grudgingly letting a gentle hand guide them to a bed or to wrap a wound. Then a quiet, "thank you." in between sharp breathing as they try not to break down in front of someone else. Love love love shielded vulnerability

[cravesunconditionallove]

Military whump prompts

(because Reddit is down and I’m chronically online)

Hearing the whumpee’s screams over the radio as they’re captured, the rest of the team frozen in horror.

• Patch job in the middle of the battlefield, someone pressing down on a wound with their bare hands, whispering, “Stay with me, okay? Just stay.”

• Post-mission debrief, but the whumpee is barely holding it together, swaying on their feet as the adrenaline wears off.

• The whumpee refusing pain meds because they need to “stay sharp,” only to pass out mid-conversation.

• “I don’t leave people behind,” they growl, limping and bleeding but refusing to abandon the unconscious teammate over their shoulder.

• Waking up in a field hospital, disoriented and panicked, pulling out the IV before being restrained by a firm but gentle voice.

• “We’re not going to make it.” “Yes, we are.” Cue one of them doing something reckless to ensure the other gets out alive.

• Cold, soaked to the bone, huddled in a ruined building during a downpour, one of them feverish while the other desperately tries to keep them awake.

• Hiding an injury to avoid being benched, only for it to get worse at the worst possible moment.

• “You don’t understand—I can’t go back. I can’t be discharged.”

• A high-ranking officer demanding a mission debrief while the whumpee is barely conscious, words slurring, bleeding through their uniform.

• A medic struggling to save the whumpee in the back of a jolting vehicle, yelling for the driver to go faster.

• Post-rescue, sitting by the whumpee’s bedside, counting every beep of the heart monitor like a prayer.

[spinzolliii]

DISCLAIMER: I HAVE NO CLUE IF THIS IS MEDICALLY ACCURATE

Something that whump writers don’t consider:

IVs feel cold. Can you imagine a room temperature liquid going directly into the bloodstream of someone who’s 97-104 degrees? It’s hellish. You can’t get warm no matter how much external heat you receive.

Imagine a delirious whumpee whimpering and clawing at an IV while being restrained and reassured by Caretaker.

“No no no, that stays in”

“Hey, hey. I know it hurts, but it’ll help you feel better”

Maybe the whumpee’s hallucinating, thinking that they’re being tortured. When Caretaker’s words fail to get through, they have to use gentle touches and singing. Or, if you want to be mean, you can have the Caretaker being forced to restrain Whumpee to prevent them from hurting themselves until they run out of energy and pass out.

[macgyvermedical]

Wound Care For Adults

So the wife was on backpacking reddit and found that a lot of people can't tell the difference between wounds you need some vaseline and a bandaid for, wounds that need a little home TLC, wounds you need to go to an urgent care for, and wounds you actually need to go to the emergency department for, so we're gonna talk about that here.

Wounds that need some vaseline and a bandaid:

A blister that popped

A non-gaping cut

A skinned knee (small amount of fresh, shallow road rash with nothing embedded)

Keep in mind that you should NOT use rubbing alcohol, iodine, mercurochrome, or hydrogen peroxide on any of these. It will just hurt and potentially kill healthy cells in the wound. Neosporin or other antibiotic ointment is okay if you happen to have it, but the antibiotics themselves don't last long and are generally not worth the extra money.

Wash the wound with plain tap water, pat it dry with a clean cloth or piece of gauze, dab on a little petroleum jelly (Vaseline) and slap a bandage on that beby.

Wounds that need some TLC at home:

A small, shallow burn with nothing stuck to it

A slightly infected open blister or non-gaping cut

Slightly infected road rash or shallow road rash with something embedded in it

Cut gaping less than 1/4 inch (1/2 cm)

Small, shallow burn: Right after you get the burn, run it under cool tap water for 5-10 minutes, even if you think it's already cool. This will help clean the wound and stop the burn from getting any deeper. Do not ice. Do not put oil or butter or vaseline on the wound. Use an over the counter burn gel and a bandaid to hold it in place.

Slightly infected small wound/road rash: You'll know it's slightly infected if there's redness and swelling around the edges (up to 2cm), if there is drainage, and if it smells bad. It will also probably hurt more than you think it should. For this you'll want to do hot compresses about 4 times a day for 20 minutes per time until the infection goes away. To do this, get a pot and get water hot enough that it is uncomfortable to touch. Then put a wash cloth in that water, pull it out, wring it out, and hold it against the wound. It should be uncomfortably hot and just a little painful. When it cools down, dip it back in the pot, wring it out, and do it again. At the end of 20 minutes the whole area around the wound should be pink.

Road rash with something embedded: If there's a tiny stone or pieces of visible dirt on this section of road rash, you'll need to clean it with a moderately forceful stream of water. You can do this with an irrigation syringe you can get from the pharmacy, or you can make your own using a plastic zipper bag. Fill a bag with water, then cut a teeny tiny hole in one of the corners. Squeeze the bag to make a stream of water, then direct that stream at the wound. This will take potentially a lot of water. Keep at it until there is nothing visible in the wound, then treat with vaseline and a bandaid.

A cut gaping less than 1/4 inch: If this is on your face, genitals, or hands and you care about scarring, go to an emergency department. If this is on another part of your body and you're okay with a scar, keep reading. Stop bleeding with pressure. Clean the wound by running clean tap water through it and pat the edges dry. Make some butterfly bandages out of strong tape- I recommend silk medical tape, but in a pinch you could use duct tape or similar.

Starting on one end, tape down one side of a butterfly bandage, pull it across the cut, and tape it to the other side. Move a 1/4 inch down the cut, and tape another one down, then another, until you have taped the length of the cut. Put some kind of breathable bandage on top of this.

Wounds that need to go to an urgent care:

Cut gaping more than 1/4 inch but that you can still stop bleeding with pressure.

Open blister, cut, burn, or road rash that is draining thick, yellow-or-white drainage and is not getting better with hot compresses, but you don't have a fever

Stop any bleeding, clean by running water over the injury, and go to an urgent care or your family doctor if you happen to be able to get in for a same-day appointment.

Wounds that need to go to an emergency department:

Any cut that gapes on the face, palm of the hand, or genitals

Infection with streaks or with which you have a fever/chills, or for which the red area grows by more than a cm in an hour

Burn larger than the palm of your hand or that is more than skin deep

Any wound that was spurting blood or that needed a tourniquet to stop bleeding

Go to the emergency department as soon as possible, they'll take care of it.

[what-would-your-blorbo-do]

This poll was submitted to us. If you’d like to send us your own scenario (plus different ways a character might react to said scenario) so we could make a poll for you, feel free to send them to our inbox.

[vivisectedboy]

Thinking about forced surgeries rn...

Whumpee strapped down on an operating table, dry heaving from the sheer terror, eyes wide open. No anaesthesia whatsoever, the feeling of cold metal against flesh. Screams, thrashing, loud gasps with each incision made.

Or the horror of being put under by complete strangers, in an unfamiliar place. He knows it's useless to fight it. Labored breaths before eventually surrendering to the drugs, despite his brain screaming at him not to.

Or waking up in an ice bath with stitches on his abdomen. Confused and hazy, feeling nothing but a horrible emptiness. The throbbing pain and the horrible realisation setting in as he slowly comes to.

So so so many options.... Very bad things ..

[loonybun]

hi whump community let me tell you about a drug called datura!! because boy is it a doozy.

datura is a deliriant, which means it is a hallucinogenic drug capable of causing serious and often terrifying delusions and hallucinations that are literally indistinguishable from reality in the user’s mind.

It is poisonous and part of the nightshade family, and the dosage used to get high off of it is actually very close to the lethal dose. it is also not only entirely legal in most places but also very accessible. it’s grown as a house plant, actually. most people who trip off of it only do it once because of how awful of an experience it is. also trips last like a long time (anywhere from 12 hours to 3 days if i remember correctly?)

the hallucinations that come with this drug are incredibly horrifying, making it literal nightmare fuel. also the more long term effects from it can include permanent psychosis and lingering delusions. fun stuff.

common hallucination experiences from this drug include the following:

- heavy gore

- seeing corpses

- feeling like you’ve been transported to an alternate dimension (hell)

- seeing people or entities you know (but a little fucked up)

- parasites and bugs

- feeling as though your organs are falling out of your body

- shadows in the back of your vision

- smoking phantom cigarettes or eating phantom food (phantom in the sense that they aren’t really there)

- torture scenarios

all in all, i think it’s a rlly interesting thing that can definitely be used in whump. like imagine a whumper lacing someone’s tea with that. the whumpee wouldn’t even be aware that something was done to them due to the fact that they physically cannot tell the difference between delusion and reality. real fun stuff. probably need an immortal whumpee though just cuz if someone takes this there’s a high chance of them getting hospitalized.

[valcaira]

Attention Whump Community!

Clogging disability tags is a massive problem that we need to address. Many tags, especially those surrounding permanent injuries, paralysis, vision loss and certain illnesses have become unusable due to being flooded with unrelated things. Yes, that includes your writing. Those tags are not for you. It's isolating, frustrating and depressing to try finding a community and other people who share your issues but all that comes up is whump, fandom shit, gifs, headcanons, etc.

I'm newly paralyzed. I have looked at many tags surrounding paralysis, trying to find support, a community, anything of people struggling with the same thing. Nothing. There's barely anything for us in the general disabilty tags. I am BEGGING you to understand and recognize how AWFUL it is.

So, I have a proposition. A tag you can and should use exclusively for disability content in whump writing. Not any other tag surrounding disability, lest you'll clog it up.

#disabled whumpee

It's tempting to use more specific tags, I get it. Due to being in the whump community myself I know #medical whump is already a tag. You have those tags. Use them. Don't use the disability tags. Don't clog up the few spaces us disabled people have.

[questions-about-blorbos]

This request was sent to us and we made a poll in response to it. Send any Blorbo-related question you want to our inbox and we’ll make a poll on which people can vote with their own Blorbos in minds

[bebs-art-gallery]

The Surgery (1979)

— by Dimitris Anastasiou

[bebx]

Leg amputation techniques from a surgical book, c. 1850