#shelagh mannion

[miss-ute]

[fixomnia-scribble]

Hi! I'm loving 'My Fortress Be' on ao3 and am wondering if you are still writing this piece? Looking forward to it if you are!

Hi! Yes, absolutely - I have nearly 40K more written and counting! I am bouncing between two fics this year - My Fortress Be and The Long Game, doing two chapters of each - but there's a lot more to explore. We have to get to Patrick and Shelagh's engagement and all its interruptions before seeing them off on their married life!

Thank you so much!

[rachelanne2018writes]

Vignettes of Love: Echos of the Past

SPOILERS: Season 13, Episode 4 (You've been warned!) :)

TW: Incurable Illness, Fear of Said Illness.

This was born out of me thinking that surely Patrick would be concerned that Shelagh's TB could reactivate from its latent stage if an epidemic of TB began in the Burrow.

You'll have to let me know your thoughts- especially of my "Mature Jenny" ending. :)

Final Warning! This Chapter contains Spoilers for Season 13, Episode 4 of Call The Midwife. It ALSO contains triggers for Incurable Illness and Fear of said Illness.

Mycobacterium Tuberculosis 

Two words Patrick Turner hoped were on their way out of the catalog of potential diagnoses. A decade prior when he’d diagnosed Shelagh, or Sister Bernadette of the Order of Saint Raymond Nonnatus as she was then known, with Tuberculosis it was such an unfortunately common illness that sanatoriums and the triple treatment were well known amongst the communities it ravaged. 

Now, in 1979 a relatively new testing process and vaccination for Tuberculosis was making its way through neighborhoods as the National Health Service provided funding and supplies to, hopefully, make TB an illness of the past- just as Jonas Salk’s polio vaccination largely eradicated the polio that made his own son Timothy so sick at the end of 1958. 

Yet here he was- diagnosing not one singular patient, but a whole family with small children with the blasted disease. It was heartbreaking, especially with the father succumbing to the illness so shortly after diagnosis. 

Suddenly, his mind turned back to Shelagh. It had been over 15 years since her last post-treatment appointment- as the standard was set at 5 years of active monitoring from the time of triple treatment completion. 

While active the disease had ravaged her body, including the pelvic organs, but what if her immune system was minutes away from failure? 

Would the disease reactivate and threaten Shelagh’s life again? 

Would the TB that she successfully fought off 20 years prior be the cause of an untimely demise? 

Patrick needed to see her. He needed to know that his wife, his beloved Shelagh, was safe. He also needed to find a way to tell her that TB was back in the burrow. But how would he tell her without worrying the children?  Sure, Timothy could handle the situation as not only was he training to be a doctor like Patrick himself, but he’d been through Shelagh’s initial infection from a distance. But Angela, May, and Teddy were not even born during that time. 

How would they tell Angela, May, and Teddy what was going on? 

How would they as a family handle the potential treatment?

What would Shelagh’s treatment look like?

Would Shelagh need to go back though the full Triple Treatment?

Would the hospital allow Shelagh to have visitors?

There were too many questions, and too many hours of work to go that day to spend energy on worrying about the potential answers.

It was late that night when Patrick arrived home, thankfully to Shelagh waiting up for him as she often did, and the children (including Timothy) sound asleep in their beds. 

“Patrick, you look as though you’ve had a horrid day” Shelagh’s sleepy voice, heavily laced with a Scottish accent- which often happened when she was tired.

For a moment alll he could do was nod. The image of the Chidozi family, with Felix laying dead on the floor surrounded by his wife and children. 

“Shelagh, Tuberculosis- it’s back in the Burrow”

“Oh Patrick, surely it’s just one small instance”

“It might be, but that poor family has to deal with the loss of their husband and father.”

“A Family, I take it.”

“Yes, a brand new Poplar family with four small children. It’s a wonder that the eldest two were in the TB Screening and Vaccination Scheme.”

“It’s a relief to know that because they were involved in such a vital programme. Besides, there are four children with bright futures, and their father will surely watch over them.”

Patrick Turner couldn’t hold in his fears any longer. 

“Shelagh, I worry about you. What happens if TB is widespread again. You’re at risk of the disease reactivating. What if we don’t know and…” he wasn’t sure he wanted to finish that thought.

“Oh Patrick, we take every precaution we can- including all of the recommended and required screenings and vaccinations to protect my health from a relapse of TB. Besides, although it is a formidable foe, we have more screening and treatment tools and techniques than x-ray vans and triple treatment courses in the isolated country sanatoriums.”

“Shelagh,”

“It’s alright Patrick, we- alongside Nonnatus House are providing a robust educational program to all of our patients on TB. But no matter what, we will get through this together.

“Just like we always do.” They said together.

Despite the best efforts of the National Health Service, and the rapid advancements in medicine, the challenges, in Poplar and in life were inevitable. But just as hope prevails in dark and desolate times, it prevailed then- alongside the determination of the community who challenged the darkness together.

[clonethemidwife]

ok. so. au number 3 (tattoo shop au) is now complete! i do have some bonus content that’s not written but to which i am not opposed to writing should you all want that.

but let’s talk about the behemoth mother of all fics: the church au.

i love this au and it would go on indefinitely if i let it, however there are other things i would also like to write, so… i have to figure out how to wrap this up. my question is: would you all prefer a fuller picture of life with fr and mrs turner with some time jumps or a shorter term happy ending that leaves the future open to interpretations? I can write either (but i won’t write both). please let me know. you can also feel free to send me a message 😃

[bekkalynne]

I apologize to anyone that attempts to talk to me about television in the coming months; my brain is only Bridgerton and the AU that’s living rent free in my head *cough* it’s Lady Shelagh Mannion’s last season on the marriage market and a certain widowed doctor is at the first ball *cough*

[hey-lady]

Knowing Their Names

New Turnadette fanfic! I have been working on this for a bit now here and there, but here's something. I have a multi-chapter fic I hope to be releasing soon, but in the mean time, enjoy this!

Read it on A03 or fanfic.net!

—

“I am glad you were able to make it to Teddy’s performance.” Shelagh quietly hushed her thoughts into the darkened room. She laid on her side, gazing at her youngest son’s sleeping profile. Unlike Timothy’s completely Turner looks, she could see clear evidence of Mannion genes plastered across his small face. The only real evidence of Patrick’s fatherhood was around Teddy’s eyes, floppy mop of hair, his incredibly stubborn attitude, which even Shelagh conceded could have been from either or both sides of his parentage, and his mischievous, playful spirit that was so clearly his father’s private personality. 

In the days following her departure from the convent, Shelagh had been surprised to discover his true personality and quickly fell in love with it. She also figured out that Timothy had inherited his mother’s dry and cheeky humor which often explained many things about his relationship with his father. By the time their younger son’s characteristics became known, Shelagh, and Patrick more secretly, rejoiced in their son’s mirrored personality.  But other than that, Teddy was completely hers and something she valued and held dearly close to her heart.   

Similar to his older brother, Teddy longed and fought for the attention and approval of his father. Timothy understood with age that his father’s commitment to his patients and oath trumped many things, but when it came down to it, Dr. Turner would always choose being a husband and father over everything else. Teddy remained too young to grasp this and felt the same jealousy and anger at the demands of his father’s vocation that Timothy had felt at a young age. They all knew he would understand in time, but until then, Teddy knew his father’s love but understood that it came with a price for both of them. 

Patrick had promised Teddy that he would do everything he could to be there for his middle term choir performance. Both parents knew he could not promise his attendance but could guarantee that Patrick would fight hell or high water for his son to his face in the crowd. 

Although he was no longer actively religious, Patrick recited every prayer of thanks and gratitude he could remember as he ran from a forceps and stitches delivery into the institute just before program began.

“Mm yes,” Shelagh could hear the smile on his face as he whispered, “Did you see his smile while he was in the line when I walked in? It reminded me so of Tim at his nativity play the Christmas after Marianne died.” 

Settling Teddy down following his school performance turned out to be easier with an extra pair of hands. Even then, it had taken nearly thirty minutes, three extra bedtime stories, and both his parents on either side cuddling him in his small bed as he drifted into a deep slumber. His parents had not dared, nor wanted, to move as their youngest slept between them. 

Her gaze fixed on father and son simultaneously as Patrick stroked his son’s hand that he had grasped during his pleas for one more story. “Oh yes. He is such a little dear—at times—and he loves you so dearly.” 

“And I him.” His voice thick, “I can hardly believe that he’s nearly six!” He finally looked up from his son to his wife and continued to speak, “I can remember times in my life so clearly when I felt so incredibly lonely and without hope.” 

“After the war?” She softly asked. 

“Yes, that was one.” He released his son’s hand to push himself into a propped position to wrap his arms around his wife and son. “Another was when Marianne miscarried when Tim was six months. I had no way of helping her through that. I tried, but she pushed me away.” He gently chuckled, “She was always like that.” His face fell at the next statement, “The next was when she got sick.” Shelagh looked up at him and stroked his forearm. “I wanted to help her so badly, but I knew there was no way she could be healed. The cancer was just too aggressive and had already begun metastasizing. I lost her so slowly,” he exhaled, “and in pieces. I could see her fade away each day until she was gone.” 

She could feel him tense underneath her. “What is it, Patrick?” 

He looked down at her with an expression of fear and bits of shame. “Can I tell you something I’ve never said out loud or even really thought?” 

“Oh darling, of course you can.” She shifted a bit so she could rest her head on his chest and look up at him as he spoke. 

Finish it here or here!

[ctmwidower]

Reduce Reuse Recycle the Call the Midwife Way - Part 2 | CtM Parallels

Both the pyjamas and the sofa have been though a lot together

CtM S11E07 | CS2013

[nonnatushouse1]

My favourite moment from the series 2 finale:

[xshe1aghturnerx]

Is it just me who finds this very wrong?

[sissi459]

Okay, But is there a Date Dress?

I have a query to throw out to you other Turnadette fic fans.  Does Shelagh have a “date dress” during the interlude period between Misty Road and planned Christmas wedding? We see several of her day dresses in show - mostly all green or brown and understated, worn with cardigans. And we know she has the very buttoned-up tweedy suit + pink blouse she wears for proposal. But all of this is essentially daywear. Assuming that her 1940′s outfit was the only one in her suitcase when she left the Sanatorium, I think we can verify that she purchases the following, at minimum, in between Misty Road and Christmas: Two (possibly more?) greeny-brown day dresses; the proposal suit + blouse; the coat with the rose buttons; the green hat; pair of darker heels (probably); pair of lighter taupe heels (worn for proposal scene); several cardigans; and the grey wedding ensemble. We must also assume there was a fairly significant investment in underthings, stockings, etc. Is it rational to assume she also purchased a modest cocktail-type dress? What do I send her on a dinner date with her new fiancé wearing? Is it possible she borrows a dress? I’m assuming not from Nonnatus at this stage...maybe from a girl at the boarding house? But I am Shelagh’s size IRL, so I know the unlikelihood of this working out well for a petite. HELP ME. I cannot bring myself to send this woman on a date in her greeny-brown daydresses. Mayyyybe the tweedy suit, but also: not really. How do I plausibly get something with just the teeniest hint of sexy glam? Is it rational to assume there actually IS a date dress we’ve never seen?

[levinson-mannion]

Ok tiktok instead of writing sorry not sorry and omg I seen a Turnadette video and it said:

She was born Bernadette

She was born Mannion but ok 😂 she took that name (via the maths I have done) when she was about 22

[weshallc]

Dinnae fret Shelagh, our wee poppet. Every bugger else is making it up as they gan along. Why not yersel’?

[rachelanne2018writes]

Across The Plains- Chapter 3: The Old White Church on the Hill.

SURPRISE!!!

I *fInally* got the writing bug back, and felt able to add another Chapter on my favorite ongoing work Across The Plains.

Special shout out and thank you to the random kudos I received a while back for getting me excited to write.

I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think. :)

In small towns, there are always those few points that those in the area find comfort in gathering at. These places become more than a grocery store, gymnasium, bank branch, or church. They become places where news lives and community thrives. But often the most powerful and frequently visited, aside from the grocery store, is often the church.

Upon a slight hill, stood the church of choice for a majority of the Goessel Area. Alexanderwohl Mennonite Church. Alexanderwohl was the church that had stood the test of time, after being started by the first Mennonite settlers in the area. It had come a long way since the days of being housed in an immigrant house and one room schools to worship. This was a church that welcomed congregants at their infant blessing, and continued to pray over them through their childhood blessing, receiving their first bible, being baptized in their last years of school, marrying the person of their dreams, and concluding their lives with their funeral. A full and complete circle within the church sanctuary. 

That afternoon, as Shelagh rode to church with her sisters and young Timothy Turner, she thought more about Marianne. She hadn’t known her well, although as was typical they would greet each other in passing. Marianne had been the definition of a cradle mennonite. At her funeral, they recounted her early childhood days, her baptism, and her marriage to Dr. Turner. The more she thought about Marianne and who she was as a person, she realized that Marianne had given her a number of opportunities- including singing with the church choir, accompanying the children when they performed both at the church and at the town school.

Even though Shelagh began every morning with devotions and prayer in the Hospital's chapel with her sisters in Christ, something about being in the sanctuary of Alexanderwohl Mennonite Church felt powerful beyond measure. Maybe it was something to do with the upcoming annual baptismal service, or maybe it was because Timothy Turner was staying with them in the Sister’s quarters behind the hospital. 

This year seemed a bit different though, even though Shelagh had been involved in the community and church more than ever before, she felt empty and alone. Even during their morning services in the Hospital Chapel, it felt as though God was no longer interceding in her life.

Meanwhile back at Bethesda

“Trixie, could you have a look at Mary Schrag? It seems to me that her labor has stalled, and poor thing  is  miserable.” Jenny Lee asked Trixie Franklin.

“Of course Jenny, poor thing. I’ll pop in once i’ve checked in on Mrs. Kauffman in room 12.”

“Thank you Trixie, Have you seen Cynthia?”

“Of course sweetie, last I saw her Cynthia was with Mrs. Wohlgemuth.”

“Thank you!” Jenny Lee as she rushed back down the hall to Mary Schrag’s room.

These scenes were typical when the Sisters attended their duties in the Church. Trixie was often given the role of lay nurse in charge. Although she was prohibited from being called a Ward Sister, as the Deaconesses preferred for the community to be able to tell who was a lay nurse and who was a professed deaconess, she took kindly to the term Nurse in Charge.

That night, as the plains lay under a blanket of a million stars, Shelagh seconded herself to the hospital chapel to pray and discern what God was trying to speak to her. This particular night however, she did not feel the chapel’s usual comfort surrounding her- instead she felt an emptiness, a coolness, that couldn’t be described as anything other than strange.

As Shelagh walked back to the Sister’s quarters, she pondered the feeling- was she going through a Faith Crisis? She couldn’t be certain, as it was a topic that had only briefly been touched on only during her Deaconess training, as Sister Julienne didn’t feel that it was a particularly important topic for the group of sisters that called Bethesda home.

As she fell asleep that night, she resolved to request a meeting with the Reverend Friesen next week after service to reassure herself that this wasn’t a faith crisis, and that the feelings she’d had that night in the chapel were just a rare instance of her mind being unsettled. Was this a sign that she shouldn’t have become a deaconess?

[clonethemidwife]

I will write either ending, but I won’t write both.

[protectiveshelagh]

Barbara: Do you think I could fit fifteen marshmallows into my mouth?

Trixie: You’re a hazard to society.

Timothy: And a coward. Do twenty.

[himbohunnicutt]

Modern Turnadette in the sunshine of Tahiti