#stretcher transport

[gastacgasspring]

How to install locking gas spring for hospital stretcher ? Stability stretchers are designed for secure patient immobilization in unstable environments like rough terrain or confined spaces. They feature robust construction, harness systems, and traction options for safe transport, vital in rescue operations, wilderness emergencies, or industrial accidents, ensuring patient stability during challenging conditions.

Locking gas springs on ambulance stretchers enhance safety by securely immobilizing the stretcher during patient loading/unloading, preventing unexpected movements, and ensuring stability in transit.

This video teaches you how to replace or install a new locking gas spring for hospital stretcher when the ambulance stretcher is not working. If you are interested in our stretcher and locking gas spring, please link to：

https://www.gastac.com/product/gas-spring-for-ambulance-stretcher/ Company www.gastac.com Shop https://shop.gastac.com/ Alibaba: https://gastac.en.alibaba.com/ Email: sales@gastac.com john.wu826@gmail.com Skype: +86 13626842823 WhatsApp: +86 13626842823 Youtube:https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCL7UTtmbXoH1jHxwhUPqp4w

[kryptonite-solutions]

The Role of Technology in Understanding Human Behaviour

Technology has always played a very big role in helping us move forward with our understanding of human behaviour. From the very early days of behavioural psychology to the most advanced research in neuroscience today, we have had technological innovations that help us find out how we think, feel, and act. These tools are proving to be more essential every day in both research and clinical settings as we delve even deeper inside the labyrinth called the human mind.

Research in human behaviour has undergone some quintessential changes over the last couple of decades. The means have evolved from the earlier traditional techniques of observation and self-reporting to more sophisticated ways of accumulating information that is objective and quantifiable. Of these, technologies related to neuroimaging have had a special place. For example, functional Magnetic Resonance Imaging, or fMRI, can show real-time activity of the brain, giving new insights into which neural mechanisms underlie behaviour.

This genuinely tips the scale from purely observational techniques to data-driven approaches within the disciplines of psychology and neuroscience. It has brought the capacity to quantify the activity of the brain as a function of various stimuli, the influence of diverse environments on mental states, and neural correlates of choice. This new technology-based approach gives more correct, granular models of human behaviour, which helps in the prediction and influence of behavioural outcomes.

The development of functional magnetic resonance imaging systems has been included in the list of the most significant technological breakthroughs in human behaviour research. They are not only applied in basic academic studies but even in clinical practices to acquire insight into the functioning of the brain. While the areas of application for traditional MRI were related to structural imaging, fMRI detects changes in blood flow, which allows measures of brain activity. This allows researchers to examine all functional areas of the brain, including which parts of it are activated during different tasks or emotional states.

It involves an fMRI visual system, which makes it possible to present visual stimuli to a subject under observation by measuring brain activity in response to the respective stimuli. Such systems include but are not limited to, MRI-compatible displays and specially designed fMRI monitors to work within the magnetic environment generated by an MRI machine. These are important tools in ensuring that the data gathered is accurate and reliable, free from interferences that may distort results.

In particular, advanced medical technologies diffuse very fast in India, and the presence of In-Bore MRI systems is increasing significantly. It shall provide a better ambience to the patients for comfortable staying during the scan within the MRI in-bore. This becomes extremely important to behavioural studies where patient relaxation can alter the quality of the data collected. Technologies such as virtual skylights for healthcare and MRI cinema for healthcare are being integrated into MRI systems to create a soothing atmosphere and lower anxiety levels, improving patient cooperation.

Technology integration into the MRI environment is not limited to research. Great innovations, like MRI projectors, MRI-compatible monitors, and MRI-compatible screens, have made much for a better experience for patients while going through an MRI scan. These tools mollify the patient by engaging them with scenery or movies of a mollifying nature during their scan, hence reducing stress and anxiety.

These are technologies that are not only imperative in improving ambience but also in ensuring patient compliance, especially on scans where the patient is required to remain still for quite a long time. A good example is the MRI-compatible stretcher or MRI-compatible wheelchairs, which are fully functional within the MRI environment, ensuring minimal movement by the patient and smooth running of the scan.

Kryptonite Solutions has been one of the prime innovators at the forefront. Their contribution to the development of MRI healthcare systems used in behavioural research and clinical practice is immense. Their products, such as MRI-compatible displays and fMRI monitors, have been massively installed across facilities in India, giving researchers and clinicians the tools necessary for producing quality studies and enabling the delivery of exceptional patient care.

Advancing technology will further enhance our ability to analyse and learn from human behaviour. Sophisticated neuroimaging techniques, notably functional magnetic resonance imaging, will offer new research possibilities in the coming future. Interdisciplinary approaches will be applied at an even greater level of detail regarding how the brain responds to stimuli, hence more tailored and effective interventions.

Also, further development of MRI-compatible cameras and MRI-compatible TVs will enhance methods of data collection, enabling more dynamic and more interactive studies. As technologies become more sophisticated, they will be able to help researchers explore intricacies of human behaviour that hitherto have been unimaginable.

Technology cannot be outside the role it plays in understanding human behaviour. It went on to redesign the study of the human mind, from high-end imaging techniques of neuroscience to the most patient-friendly environments brought forth by the MRI in-bore experience enhancements. The future for behavioural research never looked so bright with new-aged companies like Kryptonite Solutions leading the way on new products and innovative ideas. Every new technology that is opening new avenues of investigation brings us closer to the full understanding of the complexity of human behaviour and therefore closer to a better way of life, learning, and healing.

[wgeorgianonemergencymt]

West Georgia Non-Emergency Medical Transport 8092 Banks Mill Rd Unit D Douglasville, GA 30135 770-293-7940 https://www.wgnemedtransport.com/

[wgnonemergencymteastcobb]

WG Non Emergency Medical Transport - East Cobb

4658 Lower Roswell Rd, Marietta, GA 30068

678-515-9777

https://wgnemedtransport.com/non-emergency-medical-transport-east-cobb

[wgnonemergencymtwoodstock]

WG Non Emergency Medical Transport - Woodstock Ga

700 Sycamore Lane, #204B

Woodstock, GA 30188

770-407-5913

https://wgnemedtransport.com/woodstock

[denisemedzer02]

Scoop Stretcher

Scoop Stretcher Dimensions=1620-times-440-times-70-mm; Folded=1200-times-440-times-70-mm; Weight=7-kgs; Loading=180-kgs;Shop Online at Medzer.com

[blessedhealthcarellc]

Navigating healthcare can be complex, especially in terms of transportation. Non-emergency medical transportation in Rosedale, Maryland, is crucial, ensuring individuals can attend medical appointments and access essential healthcare services safely and conveniently.

[itdvmedical]

NEMT: Empowering Mobility With Wheelchair And Stretcher Services

Non-emergency medical transportation (NEMT), particularly wheelchair and stretcher services, plays a vital role in empowering individuals with mobility challenges in Florida. These services ensure safe and comfortable transportation, promote independence and enhance access to healthcare. By providing compassionate and professional care, transportation providers like ITDV Non Emergency Medical Transportation prioritize the well-being and mobility of individuals, allowing them to lead fulfilling lives with increased accessibility.

[solaireverie]

cl16 | are we out of the woods yet?

summary: [ charles leclerc x f!driver!reader — social media au / fic ] after you get into a rough crash, charles is faced with difficult decisions

request: can i get a female driver reader injury/crash angst with daniel, seb or charles pls love your fics!

warnings: crashes and injuries, general medical stuff, unspecified mentions of death (implied to be jules and hervé), open/unclear ending

author’s note: hihi lovely!! tysm for requesting <3 hope this is enough angst for you ;) also i have no clue how to write injuries soooooo just roll with it

5,891 likes

ynupdates y/n has been taken to the medical center following her crash in the #brazilgp. no further news has been released yet. we're all behind you, y/n! 🤞

view comments

user did anyone see if she was able to get out of the car by herself?

↪ user no, i think she had to be extracted by the medical crew 😬

user i hope she's okay...

Charles' phone is halfway out of his pocket when it starts ringing. Glancing at the screen, he swipes to accept the call when he sees that it's from your mother. He had called her a few minutes ago, when the sight of your crash had first appeared on the screens in the Ferrari paddock, but she hadn’t picked up. Her voice filters through the speakers of his phone, worry tinging her tone. 

“Do you have news yet?” she asks.

“Don’t know,” Charles replies, “I’m on my way to see her now. It… might be good to book a flight — and soon.” He doesn’t want to alarm your mom but it seems inevitable and he knows that you would want her next to you. 

“Okay,” she breathes shakily, “and Charles?”

“Yeah?”

“She better be okay when I get there.”

Charles winces. Of all the people in the world, he knows all too well why you can never make any promises, especially in Formula 1. 

“I’ll do my best,” he says and ends the call.

There’s a marshal waiting for him in the tiny waiting area in the medical center. He’s pacing nervously and immediately strides towards Charles as soon as he sees him. 

“Mr. Leclerc,” he begins, “the doctors wanted to see you before they take any further action. You have medical power of attorney for Ms. L/N in case of emergency, correct?” 

Charles nods numbly. It had been a precaution at the time because you had insisted that out of everyone in the paddock, you trusted him the most. He had accepted it without thinking twice but now the weight of the responsibility settles heavily over his shoulders. He follows the marshal past empty treatment rooms until they reach one with its door thrown open. 

Charles feels his lunch crawling back up his throat as he stares at your figure. You’re laid out on a stretcher and you’d almost look peaceful if not for the numerous medical apparatuses connected to you and the thin trickle of dried blood on your temple. He somehow finds his voice again.

“What happened?” he asks, almost afraid to hear the answer.

A paramedic steps forward. “Ms. L/N took quite a knock in her crash, I’m afraid,” she explains gently. “Something came loose in the cockpit and hit her head. We’re not sure if there’s any further internal injuries, but our professional opinion is that she should be moved as soon as possible to a hospital for further testing.”

Charles swallows around a lump in his throat. “Is there any particular risk with transporting her in this state?” 

The paramedic shakes her head. “No more than the usual, which is relatively low compared to the risk that we run by keeping her here without knowing if there’s anything else wrong.” 

Charles follows your ambulance all the way into the hospital in a haze. He barely registers the press grouped outside the entrance, pushing through them, always keeping you in his sights. He waits outside of the examination room they bring you into and follows as they wheel you around, receiving god knows how many tests. 

After a while members of your team start showing up, although they keep a respectful distance from Charles. He’s glad. He knows, rationally, that you were just unlucky, but the irrational and protective side of him is screaming at him to place the blame at someone’s feet. He knows you wouldn’t appreciate him blowing up at your team, though, so he doesn’t say anything to them and keeps vigil by your side as the doctors poke and prod.

Eventually you’re carefully placed in a hospital bed and Charles is pulled aside by what seems to be the main doctor assigned to you.

“Unfortunately, it seems as if we will have to operate on Ms. L/N,” he says gently. “Someone else will go over the details with you, but long story short she’s bleeding internally and it’s imperative that we get to it as soon as possible. Of course, any operation of this size could potentially be dangerous, but I strongly recommend taking action sooner rather than later.”

Charles shakes his head, the words not yet registering in his scattered mind. “Is she going to be okay?” he mumbles, not meeting the doctor’s eyes.

He can feel the doctor’s pitying gaze on him and Charles doesn’t have it in him to tell him that he’s been here before — not this specific hospital, no, but he’s been on this side of the conversation that they’re having already, and it tears his heart up just as much as the first time. The only difference this time is that he’s the one who has to make the choice, not anyone else.

“We can’t make any guarantees,” the doctor cautions, “but it would significantly raise her chances of survival if we act now.”

Charles winces at the doctor’s words. Survival. Drive to survive, surviving to drive, the irony of the situation isn’t lost on him. He uncurls his fingers gingerly from where he had been unconsciously gripping his pants. 

He wants to avoid the decisions he knows he will have to make in the next twenty-four hours. He wants to pretend that nothing happened, that you’re still on the track, passing everyone in your way. He wants to go back to this morning, when he had kissed you goodbye before jogging off to get ready for the race. He wishes he had taken time to do more than peck you and throw a “love you!” over his shoulder. Charles wants to hide from the cold, stark reality he’s faced with. Your life lies in his hands and Charles is so, so tired of bleak hospital hallways.

He wants to scream at the heavens. He’s suffered and given so much already. Is one shred of happiness too much to ask? Charles had known the risks going in when he started dating you — one Formula 1 driver was usually more than enough jeopardy in a relationship, let alone two — but he’d never really thought that the day would arrive where he would have to make decisions about you, without you. 

Charles stares at your face through the window to your room, tracing the curves and slopes with his eyes. It’s the face he wakes up next to almost every day and he curses himself for not cherishing the time he’s already had with you more. His brain is moving a mile a minute, running through all the possible outcomes. At the end of the day, though, he’s only got one choice.

Charles Leclerc has always been selfish and he’ll be damned if he lets another person he loves slip through his fingers.

“Where do I sign?”

likes and reblogs are appreciated!

masterlist | taglist: @boiohboii @vellicora

[kryptonite-solutions]

Top 10 MRI-Compatible Products for Medical Facilities

Magnetic Resonance Imaging (MRI) is a crucial tool in medical diagnostics, but it requires specialized, non-magnetic equipment to ensure safety and functionality in the strong magnetic fields. Here’s a list of the top 10 must-have MRI-compatible products every medical facility should consider to enhance patient safety and the efficacy of the MRI process.

MRI-Compatible Wheelchairs Wheelchairs made with non-ferrous metals and other MRI-safe materials are essential for safely transporting patients to and from the scanning room. These wheelchairs are designed to be durable and easy to clean, providing reliable and safe mobility solutions.

Non-Magnetic IV Poles IV poles made from MRI-compatible materials are necessary for patients who need intravenous fluids or medications during their MRI scan. These poles are built to be sturdy and stable without interfering with the magnetic field or the imaging process.

MRI-Safe Anesthesia Machines MRI-safe anesthesia machines are vital for procedures that require sedation. These machines are specially designed to operate safely within the MRI suite, ensuring that they do not affect the imaging quality or pose any risk to the patient.

Fiberglass Ladders and Step Stools Maintenance and equipment adjustments in MRI rooms often require non-magnetic ladders and step stools. Fiberglass models offer durability and safety, providing essential assistance without the risk of magnetic interference.

MRI-Compatible Monitoring Equipment Vital signs monitoring during an MRI scan is crucial, especially for patients with critical conditions. MRI-compatible monitors are designed to function accurately amidst the magnetic waves, ensuring continuous patient observation without compromising safety.

MRI-Safe Ventilators Compatible ventilators are a must for patients requiring respiratory support during an MRI. These devices ensure that ventilation support is uninterrupted and safe during scanning.

MRI-Conditional Pacemakers Recent advances have led to the development of safe pacemakers within an MRI environment. These devices allow patients with pacemakers to undergo MRI scans without risking the device’s functionality or patient health.

MRI-Compatible Stretchers MRI compatible stretchers ensure the safe transfer of patients into the MRI scanner. These stretchers are designed with non-magnetic materials and provide stable and comfortable support during the patient transfer.

Non-Magnetic Surgical Instruments Non-magnetic surgical instruments are critical for facilities that perform interventional MRI. These instruments ensure that procedures can be carried out within the MRI suite without affecting the magnetic field or compromising patient safety.

MRI-Safe Fire Extinguishers In case of an emergency, it is crucial to have MRI-safe fire extinguishers in and around the MRI suite. These extinguishers are made from materials that will not be pulled into the magnet, ensuring safety during a fire.

Investing in these MRI-compatible products enhances the safety and effectiveness of MRI procedures and broadens the scope of services that medical facilities can offer safely. By equipping MRI suites with these essential items, healthcare providers can ensure a safer, smoother operational environment that prioritizes patient care and diagnostic accuracy.

[hueseok]

( 01. ) EASY MONEY, EASY LOVE.

you and namjoon have been married for five years.

despite being strangers who solely exchanged wedding vows to trick his filthy rich family into giving him his inheritance, being part of this scheme is surprisingly easy. he’s out of the country most of the time, you’re being compensated for being a model wife, and there are only a few things you two have to to do in order to keep up with the whole guise of being a happy married couple.

with less than three months to go until you get divorced, namjoon comes back from a business trip and stays with you at your shared house, waiting until d-day with the aim of sending off your odd friendship with a proper farewell. but it’s weird, because just when things are supposed to be easiest—that’s when everything is suddenly becoming complicated, and the two of you realized once again that there really is no such thing as easy money (or easy love).

pairing: namjoon x reader

word count: 3.3k

rating: NC-17

content: fluff, angst, marriage of convenience au, strangers to friends to lovers au, dash of fake dating au, and they were housemates au???? | ft. chaebol!namjoon + travel photographer!namjoon; office worker!reader

warning/s: swearing, mentions of a sickness, mommy issues, unsupportive family, depictions of loneliness / sadness, character death (no major characters though!), mentions of falling of a cliff bc of clumsiness lmao (nobody dies dw)

[ chaptex index. ]

EPISODE 01. the one with the emergency !

you shouldn’t have been too confident. if only you’ve been more humble and less greedy during your hike earlier with your workmates for the bi-annual team building event, you wouldn’t have literally fallen off the side of the cliff and ended up spraining your ankle pretty bad.

what were you thinking, honestly? you’ve never been an active person ever in your life. you hated cardio, you hated sweating, you hated waking up early in the morning to do exercise—yet for some reason, you were pumped for the activity that was scheduled for today. it’s the reason why as you were trudging along the trail with your co-workers, yapping and laughing loudly with a close colleague, you didn’t notice that a particularly huge rock on your way set you off balance and caused you to sway to your right, plummeting over the ridge with a loud yelp.

it’s a good thing that there were paramedics stationed at the base of the mountain where all of you were trekking on, perhaps anticipating for an incident like yours to come along that’ll have them doing their duty. as soon as your team leader used the walkie-talkie given to your group to call them for their help, there were four people with bright orange uniforms aiding you, checking your condition and placing you on a stretcher before carrying you to the monorail where you’ll be transported back down.

haein, your said close colleague, accompanied you as they brought you to the infirmary.

“were you possessed by an athletic ghost?” she asks once the doctor finished treating your sprained ankle, now advising you to get a bit of rest. “what made you think it was smart to walk too fast? you must have been crazy.”

“i must have,” you say, laughing because you rather laugh than complain about the pain that you’re feeling. it’s subsiding at the moment, thankfully, but you can only imagine what the next few days are going to be for you due to the injury. “god, i’m happy though that i didn’t get to roll all the way. if that happened, i would have suffered a greater fall and then i’d be on the news.”

“yeah. you’d be a legend to the company too. we’d make an altar in your cubicle for a good few months.”

“i’d be the story that hiking guides would share to the hikers to scare them into being careful.”

“we’d pay tribute to you at every christmas party. we’d make a slideshow and present that during the whole event.”

“really?”

“of course. i’d be in charge of making the powerpoint even.”

you stare at her, haein staring back, and then the both of you burst out laughing. you’re grateful that she volunteered to be with you when the paramedics declared that they needed to bring you down—although in the back of your head, you do think she’s just being a good friend as an excuse to not walk her way back to the ground with the rest later on after they reach the top and enjoy the magnificent view.

“by the way,” she takes a seat on the chair beside the bed you’re situated in, “someone named kim namjoon is going to pick you up and drive you home.”

the second his name tumbles out of her lips, you’re snapping your head towards her, shocked. “what?”

“when you passed out a bit after the fall, i got your phone and did the thing to make it call your emergency contact. he’s the one who answered.”

“namjoon answered?”

“yup.”

“but i… i don’t remember making him my emergency contact.”

“well, like i said, he’s the one who answered.” she shrugs. “why? is he an ex or something?”

you press your lips together, suddenly panicking at the thought of namjoon arriving here.

there’s nothing wrong with namjoon, really. he’s a pleasing person to have around: genuine, kind, and full of profound thoughts that you can’t help but hang onto every word he says. however, as haein made evident, no one knows about your relationship with him and true nature of it—and you’ve done everything you can in the past year and a half since joining the company to keep it that way, deeming it unnecessary to disclose the fact that kim namjoon is your husband when the both of you aren’t bound to stay married forever.

to you, he’s just a ridiculously rich man who needed to get married for at least five years in order to get the full amount of his inheritance from his grandmother.

to him, you’re just a middle class woman who needed money to pay for her sister’s leukemia treatments, introduced together by a mutual friend who knew that both of you can benefit from each other’s situations.

in other words, your marriage with him isn’t technically real. and it’s why you rather not let anyone in your workplace know that he’s your husband, especially since you’ve managed to keep a low profile about it all these months. you don’t want to give your officemates a reason to gossip about you in the present time or when you divorce namjoon—the latter frankly scheduled to happen in less than three months from now.

****

namjoon arrives an hour later.

you take notice of him immediately while haein’s babbling about the book she recently read, recognizing him as the tall man who enters the small clinic, going to the desk to talk to the staff waiting there. you watch as the latter points to where your bed is, namjoon promptly turning to your direction, your gazes meeting before his eyes focus on your sprained ankle, expression contorting in a mix of confusion and disappointment.

beside you, haein taps your arm, noticing namjoon’s arrival as well. “is that…?”

you swallow hard. “yeah, that’s him.”

“holy shit. he’s hot.”

“don’t—” you grit your teeth. “don’t say that. it’s weird.”

“why? i have eyes—i’m just saying what i see.”

“yeah, but—”

“are you weirded out because he’s a relative? like your brother?” haein cuts you. “wait, you mentioned before that you have a sibling. is that him?”

“he’s not a sibling.”

“then who—”

namjoon stops on the foot of your bed, causing haein to shut up now that he’s within earshot. he’s still staring at your ankle, like it inflated to twice its original size, and you actually don’t know what to say. although you’ve developed a close friendship over the years of this sham marriage, you always seem to restart whenever he returns from a business trip of his—and it’s only been a couple of days since his return to south korea, having just come back from spain for his latest project.

it’s worth mentioning too that you feel strange having an audience like haein around that renders you clueless on how to act.

he lets out a slow whistle, crossing his arms. “and you say i’m clumsy.”

you huff out a chuckle, namjoon grinning that releases the charm of his dimples.

“uh, i’m haein,” your friend stands up from her seat and extends a hand out, obviously enthralled by how handsome he is. “i’m the one who called you using ___’s phone. namjoon, isn’t it?”

namjoon shakes her hand. “oh, yes. it’s nice to meet you.”

“wow. you have a very tight grip.”

“haein,” you scold, slapping her wrist that causes their handshake to cease. if it isn’t apparent enough, haein doesn’t have a filter nor cares enough to stop saying the first thing that comes to her mind. “stop being weird.”

she turns to you. “i’m not being weird. i’m complimenting him.”

“how is commenting how tight his grip is a compliment?” you demand.

“it’s a compliment because i’m making it clear that i find him strong,” she explains, focusing on namjoon again. “sorry. do you feel offended by what i said?”

he appears amused. “not really.”

“see?” haein tells you.

you’re about to quip back a reply when she beats you to it.

“anyways,” she says and namjoon stifles a laugh, “if you don’t mind me asking, how are you and ____ related?”

at the question, you send him a signal with your eyes, asking him not to tell the truth, regardless if that’s wrong of you to do so. one of the things you had to keep in mind upon agreeing with this arrangement is that neither of you should ever deny the marriage whatsoever, a precautionary measure because you two were that paranoid that the news might reach namjoon’s parents.

from the looks of it, despite namjoon understanding where you’re getting at as you give him the most bizarre expressions, he does the opposite (perhaps mainly due to what was explained above), resulting into you hanging your head low, waiting how haein will react at the revelation that will be served on her plate.

“i’m her husband actually,” namjoon says casually. 

haein cackles out loud. “husband?” she repeats. “that’s really funny—you’re a funny guy. but seriously, how do you two know each other?”

he raises an eyebrow. “i’m not joking.”

“sure you are, but this girl right here isn’t married.” she does a show of holding you in an affectionate headlock. “she doesn’t even have a boyfriend.”

“did she tell you that?” he’s teasing, glancing at you for some sort of confirmation.

haein averts her attention to you. 

you look at them, switching from namjoon to haein to namjoon and back to haein. 

“i mean…you never asked, and i never said i was single,” you tell haein, shrugging and acting as nonchalant as ever.

it’s half the truth, ‘cause as far as you’re concerned, you’ve been diligent in always wearing your wedding and engagement ring. you even make it a point not to appear interested in any offers of blind dates or group dates to ever imply that you’re single as well.

she gawks at you, like she’s waiting for you to take back what you said. “are you being for real right now?”

“i am.”

“if this is some elaborate prank—”

“it’s not a prank,” you say. 

there’s silence, and then she practically screams.

“YOU’RE MARRIED?” haein bellows, attracting everybody’s attention inside the infirmary. “we’ve known each other for more than a year and only now do i discover that you’re married?”

before she can berate you and force you to tell her your entire relationship history, namjoon’s asking for your bag and helping you sit up, aiming to lead you to the car waiting outside. haein almost stops him, declaring with conviction that she literally can’t wait until the next office day to get the full scoop, but he kindly reiterates what the ER doctor he spoke with earlier said, insisting that he ought to bring you home as soon as possible so you can get the rest that you need after over exerting your body for today’s hike.

“everything. you need to tell me everything on monday,” she says when namjoon goes out for a minute to deliver your bag first to the vehicle. she’s giddy and jumpy and very hyper about what you can guess is because of her latest discovery. “also, i’m sorry about calling your husband hot earlier. i wouldn’t have done so if i knew.”

you grin, appreciating the fact that she felt the need to apologize for that. “it’s no biggie. you didn’t know.”

“yeah, which you really should apologize about.”

“i’m sorry.” your grin only stretches wider. “i’ll buy you a matcha latte on monday to make up for it.”

her face lights up.

you share your farewells as namjoon returns, namjoon saying goodbye to haein too. she leaves first, remembering that she needs to inform the rest of your co-workers that you’re fine and headed home, and once you and your husband are alone, he takes a good look at you again.

“should i carry you?” he asks.

you blink at him. he may be reliable, but he is also extremely clumsy. “you’re not asking the right questions, joon.”

“wow. you can really be cruel sometimes, you know?” he laughs. “then should i get a wheelchair?”

“no wheelchair please. i think i can walk to the car just fine.” you begin standing up.

“you sure?” he doesn’t even let you answer that, his hand just naturally goes to support your elbow. “you might fall.”

you pause, calculating how many steps it’s going to take until you reach your destination. you’re fine, really; your good foot is perfectly walkable and you’re convinced it can take the burden of not having its pair in ample condition. however, you might need to hold onto namjoon for you not to fall halfway like he already stated, and you’re not really keen on being that close to him no matter how amazing his cologne smells even a few inches away.

“a wheelchair would be ideal,” you say.

namjoon chuckles, nodding and getting it with the assistance of a staff member. 

in minutes, you’re on the passenger seat and he’s climbing on the other side. you don’t expect it but you’re relieved at the thought of coming home earlier than planned. though you’ve conditioned yourself to enjoy this team building and take this time to get into camping, you were horrified when you learned that there wouldn’t be any shower rooms or portable toilets at least at the area that you’re heading at after the hike, this retreat meant to give each one of you the raw camping experience.

come to think of it, perhaps it was your subconscious that prompted you to inflict this accident on yourself in order to avoid shitting on the ground in case your stomach hurts.

“comfortable?” namjoon glances at you. “you can recline the chair if you want to sleep.”

“oh, okay. thanks.” you smile. 

he smiles back, starting the engine. you subtly watch him while he does that, admiring how he seems so adept in driving now compared to when you first met him. you remember his reluctance in the past to drive due to his fear of messing up, yet he managed to drive for approximately two hours in most likely gravelly roads to get where you are.

“thanks too for coming here, joon. i hope i didn’t bother you. honestly, i don’t even remember putting you as my emergency contact,” you sheepishly add.

“no problem, and i think hoseok did,” he says. “i remember him mentioning that i should put you as mine before.”

hoseok is the mutual friend that introduced you both together when namjoon was still trying to find a fake wife to obtain the full amount of his inheritance in five years time. he was aware of namjoon’s ploy and knew that you were in need of money during that year as well—and so putting two and two together, he set up a ‘date slash chemistry test’ between you and namjoon and reckoned that you could be great help to one another regarding your respective needs.

“that makes sense. i just don’t know how he did that without my knowledge.”

“well, nothing’s been impossible for hobi, so…”

you agree with a snort.

“by the way, i should mention this before you doze off,” he abruptly halts as he’s beginning to drive off, “mom’s inviting us to dinner this weekend. she heard that i was back in the country and wanted to see how i am.”

you gradually digest that information. “okay. is everyone going to be there?”

“yes, based on our last conversation.”

“should i be prepared for anything at all?”

he seems to find the inquiry funny. “no. just the usual.”

“meaning i should block off every passive aggressive comment your mom makes about either my choice of clothes and social status, right?”

“pretty much, yeah.”

you let out a groan.

“i’m sorry. i would have declined her request but she wouldn’t stop pestering me about it.”

“god, i just really don’t like your mom, joon.” you say. “or your dad. or your older brother. i don’t like everyone, basically—except your pet dog, hiro. no offense.”

“that’s fine. i don’t like them either.” he shrugs, carrying on driving. “plus, you know i’m on your team. i’d defend your honor to death.”

“of course. it’s what makes attending these things tolerable.”

“well, if it makes you feel better, this might be the last family function you’d have to attend.”

you raise your eyebrows, recalling the reason why. “woah, shit, you’re right.”

in less than three months, you’re getting divorced and namjoon’s getting even more money than he already has.

in less than three months, he’s going to share some of the portion of what’s left of his inheritance and it’ll be the last time you’ll receive financial help from him.

it also might be the last time you’ll be with him in general, and though there’s a side of you that’s glad not to be tied down anymore, you can’t say that you’re glad of possibly losing contact with namjoon, having grown fond of his presence in a way.

facing him, you blurt out the first thing that occurs in your mind. “when we get divorced, can i keep my engagement ring?”

namjoon chuckles. “that’s up to you. there’s no reason for me to take it back.”

“but what if you fall in love with a woman someday and think about proposing to her?”

“then i’d buy a new ring.”

“but wouldn’t that be impractical? given that you already have an engagement ring? i mean, this costs so much i could probably buy a lot and a house with it.”

“yeah, but that’s yours. it’d be horrible of me to give her a ring already worn by my first wife.”

“first wife,” you repeat with a dramatic scoff, lips curving upwards regardless. it’s cheesy and tickles your insides. “that trip to spain changed you, joon. you’ve been too flirty since you returned.”

that coaxes out a full laugh from him. “my apologies. it’s a habit at this point.”

“what is?”

“pertaining to you as my wife.” he shrugs. “isn’t it the same for you?”

“pertaining to you as my wife?” you joke.

the dimples make a reappearance. “you know what i mean.”

you think about it. had it been the same for you? there’s not a lot of occasions wherein you have to call namjoon as your husband. your dad isn’t present in your life, your relationship isn’t good with your mother to constantly chat with her, and as for your little sister who was the root cause of why you got married to namjoon…

well, she’s in a better place right now. far better than this crazy and scary world you’re living in.

“i guess,” you say, but your tone isn’t convincing.

“hm, it does seem that way according to what just happened with haein.”

you wince. “sorry about that.”

“don’t be, i understand. i’ve been gone most of the time since you got hired in your new company—and we are separating in a few weeks.”

“time flies really fast, doesn’t it?”

“yep. we used to think that it’ll take forever before the five years are up.”

“true. we kept on suggesting a backup plan if ever we fight and get sick of each other.”

“yet here we are, still happily married.”

“ugh, there you are again!” you accuse and he laughs out loud once more. “are you enjoying cringing me to death?”

namjoon doesn’t answer, a big grin plastered on his face as he continues laughing, groaning eventually when you start slapping his arm because of how it’s obvious that he truly is enjoying this.

“____,” he complains, laughing still, “stop, i’m driving!”

you follow as he says. “you’re the worst.”

“i forgot how easy you are to tease.”

“shut up.”

he snickers, doing a zipping motion against his mouth.

gentle reminder: this author loves feedback! let her know your thoughts if you enjoyed reading this fic and you’ll add 100+ points in her writing motivation meter ♡

[denisemedzer02]

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[my-darling-boy]

(TW injury description)

I am SO glad you asked I lose my mind over this man. Sidney Beldam! He’s most known for his miraculous recovery from a major facial injury sustained while he served as a young sergeant in the First World War. If you’ve read the Facemaker by Lindsay Fitzharris you might recognise him! Sources differ slightly about his story, so I’ve pieced it together as best I could. The photos below were from about February 1919!

Born in 1897, Sidney was about 17 living with his mother in Cambridge, England when the Great War commenced. While he didn’t enlist initially, he was soon conscripted when it came about in 1916 though thankfully he was in a non-combatant role driving lorries transporting soldiers to boats headed for France. It’s where he learned he enjoyed driving! However in April 1917, Sidney was transferred to the Machine Gun Corps and eventually rose to the rank of sergeant where only 7 months later, his life would change forever.

During the battle of Passchendaele, one of the muddiest most gruelling segments of the war, Sidney was on the frontlines when a shell burst, sending a shrapnel fragment tearing diagonally through his nose and the right side of his face. The young soldier collapsed face first into the mud which ended up saving his life as falling backwards would have caused him to choke on his own blood. For three days Sidney laid in a mangled heap floating in and out of consciousness while vermin scurried about his body and the other dead and wounded around him. No one would ever know the details of those agonising three days, but the trauma he experienced there left him with a lifelong phobia of rats and cockroaches. After the initial wounded had been cleared out, a wandering band of stretcher bearers discovered Sidney alive after one man touched him with his boot fully expecting him to be dead. Miraculously, he was still clinging to life.

The 19 year old sergeant was rushed down the line and then transferred to two different military hospitals where his wounds were hastily stitched in an effort to save his life before infection could spread. Unfortunately, closing the gap where he was missing flesh in his cheek caused his upper lip to be pulled into a sneer and a sunken depression formed where most of his nose was missing around the bridge. Still, he was lucky to be alive, which he later used to remark. Well he was luckier still as he would be transferred to Sidcup military hospital in Kent where he would become a patient under Sir Harold Gillies, the man often considered the pioneer of modern plastic surgery. When he arrived at hospital in 1918, his wounds were healed but his face still bore the heavy trauma of his experience. If you want to see his photographs upon arrival, I won’t post them here but if you search his name, the photos are everywhere. IMO they’re not graphic but I know it can upset some people.

Gillies went to work trying to restore Sidney’s face. This required him to reopen the wound in his cheek where a skin flap was grafted to allow his upper lip to return to normal. He also folded down a skin flap from his forehead in order to create a new nose. Behind his facade, a series of tubes and canals had to be inserted for proper sinus drainage and other unnamed functions. While his initial handful of surgeries did most of the work to reconstruct his face, Sidney underwent over 40 surgeries between 1918 and the 1930s, some reconstructive and some to evacuate the tubes behind the flesh, meaning the common cold was a routinely painful affliction for him. Gillies understood operations were traumatic for the men at Sidcup, especially since most required more than one, and so made a point about creating a lighthearted ward environment, one Sidney says was quite jolly with the staff doing everything they could to make them feel comfortable and dignified as possible. And while I thought the topmost photos were the most updated case study photos for his recovery, I stumbled upon another set from 1920 in the Faces of War by Andrew Bamji I have not seen posted anywhere!

And lads listen. In such a sweet little twist, while Sidney was still recovering from the bulk of his major surgeries, a local pianist by the name of Winifred volunteered to play for the resting servicemen, all of whom had some form of disfigurment or amputation. Carrying in her sheet music, she and Sidney laid eyes on each other for the first time and she later remarked how his smile instantly lit up the whole room! For them, it was love at first sight. The two were soon married, and although it was in the 1920s, I don’t have an exact year for this. This most likely came after Sidney was finally discharged from service in 1921. There is a photo of their wedding and y’all look how SWEET!!

Between his initial surgeries and army discharge, Gillies asked if Sidney would be his personal chauffeur, an offer he took up quickly as he loved driving from his time with lorries during the war. One somewhat humorous account tells of Gillies—who was a bit scattered at times—asking Sidney to renew his driver’s license as the surgeon left it until the last day to take care of; Sidney in a rush waited in a long line at the county hall before jumping the queue and begging the administrator to expedite his employer’s license as it was needed to drive him to the hospital the next day. The man refused, even for a surgeon to get him to his patients. Sidney went to another staff member who was friends with Gillies and begged him the same. The man cheerily agreed but was still in need of a signature from the stubborn administrator who again refused... at least until he found out Harold Gillies nearly won a golfing championship, at which point he took Sidney to his personal office to expedite the license as he was happy to do business for a skilled golfer (apparently saving people’s lives doesn’t matter as much??). A no doubt perplexed Sidney was finally able to get back to the hospital on time!

After his army discharge and most likely about the time of his marriage, Sidney moved back to Cambridge where he worked for the council as a rent collector. He was so well liked, apparently even from the people he collected from, that he soon worked his way to Housing Manager for Cambridge. About this time, he had a daughter, Pam. Every account I read of him, people gush about how sweet he was. His wife recalls how Sidney was always adored by all his family and friends. His granddaughter Marilyn McInnes in an interview said, “He was the most warm and optimistic and loving man. I adored my grandfather, I was constantly on his lap as a small child. I never noticed anything funny about his face, I guess I thought all grandads looked like mine.”

Sadly, Sidney Beldam passed away from cancer at about 80 years old in 1978. But considering the man was given 6 months to live and ended up living for 60 years more surrounded by a large and loving family, I’d say he certainly had a full life. There is a picture of him and his wife in the 60s and they are absolutely charming!!

But anyway that’s me done rambling I’ve a massive crush on him. His story makes me genuinely happy to tell and I’m so glad you asked!

[itdvmedical]

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[just-a-sewer-goblin]

Collars of Duty 2

Hybrid!Simon x reader

- Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3

Just as you're thinking that things might work out a medical emergency occurs. You find yourself confronted with Simon's injuries and an impossible choice.

~4k Words

Content: medical inaccuracies, description of seizure, fainting, discussion of wounds, discussion of wounds sustained during sexual abuse, mention of sexual abuse, talk of hybrids being put down, mentions of suicide, reader is being mean to themselves in their thoughts

One moment you’re rambling, trying to get Simon to relax more, the next his eyes suddenly go unfocused and he starts swaying in the spot he’s been glued to for the past few minutes. He shakes his head but that only seems to make his apparent dizziness worse. His unfocused eyes search the room and land on you. More or less on you, because he seems unable to focus them. What is going on? Then he almost silently crumbles to the floor.

It’s so anticlimatic it almost startles an overwhelmed laugh out of you. You’d expect a body as big as his to make a loud noise when fainting but he seems to soften his own fall before he is truly out.

You’re still looking at him but your thoughts are starting to race. What are you supposed to do? How did this just happen? What did you learn about first aid?

Then his body starts to convulse and immediately you’re on your knees by his side. Oh shit, you are so not prepared for this. You have to scoot back a bit so he doesn’t bump into you and terror floods your veins.

You wish you were back in bed, still on leave. This is not how you wanted to come back to work and you can feel tears starting to swim in your eyes as you frantically look Simon over trying to guess what you can do to help. The only good thing about the bare room is that there’s no furniture he could hit and injure himself further with.

“We need a doctor here!” You barely recognize your own voice. Violently it tears through your throat, panicked. What should you do? You don’t have the necessary training to help him and the way his eyes are rolling makes sweat bead on your hairline. Your hands are hovering in the air uselessly.

“Doctor! Doctor!” You scream again because no one immediately reacts and panic starts to fill your lungs at the way Simon’s body moves. You hate it. The helplessness and the way you can only kneel there and watch his body contort and convulse. It looks painful even through your blurry vision. You want to look somewhere else so you don’t have to watch it but you can’t move.

“Please, help!” Screaming hurts, it feels like the sheer hysteria will rip your vocal chords and finally, after what feels like forever, the door gets yanked open and two nurses rush into the cell. Liz is by your side as soon as the nurses are by Simon’s. Her hands pressing firmly against your shoulders, trying to tether you to reality.

“They’ll take care of him. It’s okay. It’s okay.” She tries to soothe you and you watch two nurses turn Simon onto his side as soon as he stops convulsing. You’re still frozen watching them work calmly but hurriedly and you look at Liz with all the helplessness you feel. Simon’s lifeless body burnt into your mind. Was that your fault?

Did you do this? Your brain desperately replays every second you spent in there with him but you only talked to him? Was there a way to trigger a seizure like this with words?

When they put the big hybrid on a stretcher and quickly make their way from the cell you’re on their heels immediately. This is your hybrid, your charge. Sometime between first hearing about him on the phone and him collapsing you have decided to take him under your wing. It wasn’t even a conscious decision, but the feeling of responsibility is unmistakably there.

The medical staff that transports Simon to the hospital wing of the building is moving so fast that you have to run to keep up with them. At least now your heart has a reason to beat as hectically as it does. Vaguely you realize that Liz is following you too and before you know what’s happening you’ve arrived at your destination.

Simon is transported through a double door that swings shut behind them and when you try to push through another nurse steps into your way.

“You’re not allowed to come in here. Please wait outside.” She says in a kind voice that brooks no arguments and you really have no choice but to listen. What could you do anyway?

You turn back towards the long hallway that leads to the doors. The only splash of color against the sterile white walls is Liz, who approaches you and leads you to the chairs. They’re just as white as the rest of the hallway that has multiple other corridors, all equally as white, branching off. With gentle insistence she presses you down into one.

You sit down without any fight. That just happened. The hybrid did collapse while you were in there with him. They called you in to help him and already you had messed up.

A warm hand finding your back and starting to stroke up and down startles you from your thoughts. Liz’ hand feels soothing and you turn to her.

“They’ll help him. It will be okay. I’m sorry that you had to come back to such a mess.” She says and you can see in her eyes how much she regrets how things are going.

You shake your head. “It’s certainly not the way I would have hoped my comeback goes. But it will be fine.” Whether you’re soothing Liz or yourself, you’re not sure but you even manage a weak smile.

“You were my best bet. They want him put down and the other handlers don’t have the capacity for the care that a case like his needs. And they didn’t exactly jump at the prospect of working with a deranged killer.”

You press your lips together and nod. She’s wrong though. Everything that happened before Simon collapsed doesn’t point to a crazy killer hybrid. Just one who went through something extremely traumatic. He needs time and help.

Or are you wrong? Was he just relatively docile because he was so exhausted? Maybe he is indeed lost and your instinct is off. You’d never questioned your instincts before. But everything that happened with Phillip has knocked most of your confidence right out of you. Maybe the others were right and letting him go would be merciful to him and prevent further harm.

You don’t know how long you sit there listening to Liz trying to soothe you and while you’re trying to collect your thoughts until a nurse approaches you through another hallway.

“You came in with the hybrid?” He asks and immediately you perk up nodding. Any news on Simon would help you to feel better at this point. Just knowing something instead of sitting here and cooking up the worst scenarios in your head would be enough to calm your shaking hands.

“Who is his handler?” His second question comes and you pause for just a second.

Technically you haven’t yet signed the paperwork. Technically Simon isn’t your charge yet and realistically speaking you shouldn’t feel this responsible for him already. But you do. You know damn well you won’t leave him. Not when no one else wants to be his handler and everyone else who has a say is ready to put him down.

You can feel Liz hard stare on you when you answer firmly. “I am.”

The nurse crouches down before your sitting form and you find that it feels good for him to get to your level. You still don’t know all the hospital staff even though you spent almost a week here after the incident with Phillip. But you know that you trust them and they’re the ones who put you back on your feet. So they will help Simon too. They have to.

“They’re currently examining him.” His smooth voice immediately puts you at ease. “He probably had the seizure because of the severe starvation he went through which lead to dangerous levels of hypoglycemia. They will take care of that as soon as they can, they might already be as we’re speaking. But he has suffered many wounds and they’re currently trying to figure out the extent of the damage done to his body.”

You breathe deeply, your churning tummy settling some. They’re helping him. He will probably be okay. Please let him be okay.

Then the guilt slams into you anew. You vaguely had been aware of how bad of a shape he was in but you had prioritized making him feel safe over his physical health and look where it brought him. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

You should have known better. You should have been able to correctly assess the situation and act accordingly. You should have made sure that he immediately got medical care. You should not have spent those precious minutes yapping away.

You miss the rest of what the nurse says but as soon as he’s gone again Liz grabs your hands and more or less forcibly turns you towards her a bit.

“Stop that.” She demands.

You meet her eyes. “What do you mean?”

She raises her eyebrow and purses her lips in her ‘don’t test me’ way. “That. Blaming yourself for stuff that isn’t your fault.”

You shake your head. “I should have known better Liz. I have worked with so many hybrids; I should have made the right call and immediately talked him into going to the doctor. I should have known better. I should have been better. I-”

“Uh, no I’m gonna stop you right there. Let’s imagine you did. Let’s imagine you immediately tried talking him into that. He might have freaked and attacked you. He might have refused. It might have caused further distress or even made him go even more animal. You do not know and you cannot shame yourself for doing what you assumed was the best.”

Her eyes are set on you and you look at her for a while. It’s quiet in the hallway. The center rarely has medical emergencies of Simon’s scale. The worst that usually happens are slight wounds from hybrids playing too rough or people falling over their own feet and scraping their knees.

You’re pretty sure the last medical emergency had been you and it’s been weeks since then. Still the medical staff here consists of very competent doctors and nurses. The next hospital is a few cities over so the hospital wing of the rehab center is big enough and well equipped to deal with all sorts of medical emergencies and non-emergencies.

You smile weakly at Liz. “You know, my therapist would be proud of your little speech.”

Her chuckle at your answer is relieved. “I think I like your therapist. Maybe you should introduce us so we can gang up on you.”

It feels good to joke, it makes the situation more bearable and you find yourself bantering with Liz. It helps to at least ignore the worry until the nurse approaches again.

“The hybrid is in room 141. The doctor in charge of him would like a word with you before you can go to his room.”

You slowly stand up and Liz is about to join you but you stop her. “I know you have work to do. You don’t have to babysit me just because it’s my first day back and things are a little difficult.”

She seems hesitant. “Are you sure? I know how sudden and overwhelming this must be for you. Especially with how everything is going.”

You try to go for a reassuring nod. You were capable of doing this. Maybe it was hard but you could try to see it as your baptism of fire after your long absence.

“I’ll be fine. And I’ll come to your office later.” As much as you appreciated Liz being there with you, you had to prove to yourself that you could still handle situations like this.

Reluctantly Liz leaves and you follow the nurse to the doctor’s office, heart hammering in your throat. He excuses himself and closes the door behind you and you try to wipe your sweaty palms on your pants as discretely as possible.

The office is a small rectangular room with both walls on the sides covered by big shelves that burst with files, books and papers. A broad desk stands in the middle and behind that the doctor is sitting signing one last paper before looking at you. Behind her a poster hangs on the wall that seems to have some details on the anatomy of hybrid ears.

She’s a beautiful woman and you know from previous interactions that she may care more about the hybrids than anyone else who works at the center. Being in her presence is slightly weird. The last time you saw her, you were a patient. Her sigh is heavy and her gaze serious as she braces her elbows on the desk, folds her hands and looks at you.

“So you’re his handler?” She asks without preamble and her tone paired with her expression almost makes you retract. You straighten up and swallow. Oh today was not a small talk kind of day for her it seems.

Your reaction to her words seems to soften her and she slightly shakes her head, gives you a smile and points at the chair in front of her desk almost apologetically.

“Sorry, take a seat. That’s my emergency room tone. Didn’t mean to unleash that on you. I heard they brought you in from medical leave especially for him?” She says and this time her voice is conversationally. You feel yourself relax.

You take a seat, and nod. “Yeah, I arrived shortly before he collapsed. I tried to calm him down and before I could talk to him about coming to the hospital he had the seizure.”

She presses her lips together for a moment and then smiles almost sadly. “Him collapsing was probably a mixture of the blood loss, the starvation and the adrenaline finally leaving his system because that must have been the only thing keeping him on his feet in his condition.”

Blood loss? You hadn’t seen any actively bleeding wounds that would have been big enough to cause blood loss severe enough to make him faint. You look at her questioningly and she sees that as your invitation to keep talking.

“I did a medical examination as well as a small operation and as his handler you have the right to know about it. I think you should know about it in this case.”

Oh you really needed to sign those papers or you could get into deep shit for sitting in this office before doing so. The hectic beating of your heart echoes in your ears but you don’t want to wait and go through the whole procedure of signing the papers now. You want to know what she has to say so you incline your head in agreement.

There is a slight hesitation, which reminds you of Liz’ call just a few hours earlier, before she goes on. “I guess there’s no nice way to say this. So I’ll just give you the facts.”

You brace yourself for what is to come, fiddling with your hands in your lap.

“He suffered severe wounds and we’re lucky the small internal bleeding I found was so slow or he would have died before even arriving here. We managed to stop it. That is one of his newest wounds because if it had been older than a few hours it would have killed him.”

She goes over the paper on her desk and rattles on. “Four ribs on his left are slightly broken, his pinky and ring finger on the right are broken. We have bruises of varying severity all over his body along with wounds in all stages of healing. Some of the cuts on his face needed stitches one shows slight signs of inflammation but I think it should be fine.”

Her next inhale is measured and somehow you know what will follow will be even worse. “He also has internal and external ruptures.”

You cock your head, confused. What did she mean? “I thought he only had one small internal wound that you fixed? Cuts don’t count as ruptures, right?”

Her expression becomes sympathetic as if she doesn’t want to break the news to you and cold dread settles in your tummy, it makes your hands clammy all over again and you wish you could just leave and let someone else have this conversation in your stead. She couldn’t mean… No. Please it was already bad enough. Not-

“The ruptures are anal and rectal. There are some in relatively early stages of healing along with older scars. Without him saying what happened I cannot be a hundred percent certain but if I had to guess… he got sexually abused during the torture.”

Suddenly you feel sick, pressing your hand to your mouth trying not to cry. You can’t even imagine what Simon went through and your resolve to be his handler hardens to unbreakable steel. The doctor’s expression is incredibly soft as she fishes a paper out of the stack and shows it to you.

Hectically your eyes scan the vague words. Nothing that can’t be twisted so it doesn’t sound like the request to put him down that it evidently is.

“He’s the one they wanted put down.”

You already knew that but along with all the other info you suddenly feel dizzy it’s all too much and you feel like you’ll spiral until you harshly remind yourself that this is not about you. This is about Simon and you can damn well hold yourself together until you can find a toilet and break down in private.

She gives you the time it takes you to gather yourself again and then delivers the next blow. “As his handler it’s your decision for now. The request only came in because of what happened with the soldiers but if you say it was an accident and Simon can be helped, he won’t be put down. I think you should decide soon. He’s currently asleep and probably will be for a few hours more but it would be cruel to let him wake up just to put him to sleep again.”

It makes you angry, the way she says it. As if it’s peaceful and nice. As if she isn’t talking about putting him down like an animal. But you’re also aware that she is only playing her part in this and putting the hybrids down is never her decision.

One peek at her face has you questioning whether she chose those words for you or herself. As the head doctor she’s the one tasked with putting a hybrid down when it comes to it. Suddenly you almost pity her.

So you nod at her and stand up ready to tell her that she won’t have to put him down but she speaks before you can.

“Think about it.” She looks around as if to make sure you’re alone in the room before she continues. “I think we both resent that sometimes the center is above the law but consider his feelings. I’ve seen one too many cases where a hybrid became suicidal after only a fraction of what happened to him and-“ Her eyes start glistening traitorously. “- if he chooses that then ... my way would be painless at least.”

Her words rattle you to your bones but you can’t even fault her, or get angry. You cannot even imagine what it feels like to treat a hybrid after attempting to escape life only to watch them succumb to their wounds anyway.

So instead of immediately answering you excuse yourself ready to leave the office. The air is too heavy, stifling and the responsibility nearly suffocates you.

She extends her hand to you. You shake it and for a moment you lock eyes. It feels weird, like the short intense talk you just had connects you more than any of the small talk you’ve shared in the cafeteria before.

As you go to leave the room she is already back to studying papers and working on her computer so you close the door as silently as possible, leaning against it for a moment to just breathe. Taking that opportunity to remind yourself that you can do this. You can do this.

Finding Simon’s room is easy enough and when you enter to go to his bedside you finally let the first tears drip. It feels good to let it out. And your therapist would tell you that it’s important to let the tears out or you’ll drown in them.

You just met him but everything in you hurts for the big hybrid and everything he might have been through. The tears keep coming and you get a chair to sit down next to him.

Everything is wrong. He shouldn’t look small but he does. Small and pale as he rests between the pristine sheets and you want to scream. He doesn’t deserve any of this. He doesn’t belong into a hospital bed with a drip connected to him.

The nasogastric tubing that ensure he gets a steady supply of nutrients that won’t overwhelm his exhausted body along with the monitor steadily beeping along next to his bed remind you, that he’s taken care of for now.

It’s a while before your tears stop and when you blow your nose you feel marginally better. That’s something. You had the moment for yourself so now it’s time to concentrate on the big hybrid.

You consider talking to him again because it seemed to help earlier when he was awake but you don’t know what to tell him. What are you supposed to say, when you have already failed him during your very first meeting?

Seeing the stitches on some of the cuts on his face make them look even worse and you remind yourself that it’s proof that he’s one step closer to getting better.

Time is lost on you while you sit beside him and your phone ringing makes you flinch. You get it from your pocket and seeing Liz number reminds you of the promise you made earlier, to go and meet her.

“Hey.” You’re sure she can hear the guilt in your voice and her laughter coming through is like cool water over a burn that you didn’t even know you needed.

“It’s fine, I knew you wouldn’t leave his side any time soon. How is he?”

You brush your hand down your face, suddenly aware of your exhaustion. “He seems to be stable. The doc said he’ll probably wake up in a few hours.”

That reminds you of the weight of the decision over his life resting on your shoulders, the doctor’s earlier words ringing in your ears. As much as she made you hesitate in her office, you’re sure how you should decide. Even if he ended up rather wanting to die, it is not your call to make.

It is no ones. Once more you grit your teeth over how warped your own thoughts sometimes got in here. The doc had meant it well, you’re sure and she’d had her own reasons for her argumentation but you could not, would not lose Simon without giving him a fighting chance.

As you talk some more with Liz your decision hardens until it is set in stone. But in the end it doesn’t matter because even after more than twelve hours pass, morning turning into afternoon turning into evening, Simon is still not waking up.

[peachyhalstead]

alive | j. halstead

summary: chasing down an offender doesn't go quite as planned (dw it ends fluffy)

pairing: established (married) fem!reader x jay halstead, platonic!reader x adam ruzek

word count: 1.75k

warnings: canon-level violence, gunshot, hospitals, medical inaccuracies

a/n: meet a seasoned fanfic writer's first fic about jay <3 please let me know what you think of this !! also it was originally written in 3rd pov so if you see anything wrong, no you didn't ---- You followed Adam down the alley, weapons drawn. "Chicago PD! Stop!"

You felt your lungs burn as you raced down the alley, nodding when you saw Adam silently gesture to enter through the front door, and he would take the back.

Noticing the door was already open, you walked in, eyes alert for any sign of a victim or offender.

Hearing Adam call out a "clear!" you opened your mouth to do the same, but didn't make it that far as you heard three shots ring out, feeling two sharp pains tear through your body.

Adam, having seen the offender shoot you, quickly fired a round of his own weapon, pressing a button on his radio. "5021 Ida, shots fired by offender and police! We need an ambo to our location, plain-clothed officers at the scene, one in need of urgent medical care!"

Near the end of the block that you and Adam were on, Jay's head shot up to meet Hailey's, hearing their coworker's distraught call into the radio.

The two sprinted out of their location, and down to the abandoned house, hearing the sirens grow louder.

"Ruz! Where are you guys?!" Jay called, stomping through the house.

He felt his heart plummet when he saw his wife on the floor, bullet hole in your shoulder and belly, Adam holding his jacket over the wounds.

"Y/N!" He fell to his knees next to you, letting out a breath when you looked at him.

"J-Jay, I didn't see him coming." You mumbled, breaths shaky.

"Shh, it's okay, hon. You're going to be alright." Jay reassured you, his hands trembling as he reached out to stroke her the back from your face. He shot a panicked look at Adam, who was still pressing down on the bullet wounds.

"Ambo's en route, Jay," Adam said, his voice tight with worry. "She's strong, she's gonna pull through this."

Jay didn't answer, his attention solely focused on his wife. He held onto your hand, willing his strength into you. "Hang in there, baby."

"I'm trying," you answered weakly.

Just then Voight and Kevin Atwater stormed into the room. The sight of you on the floor left them momentarily stunned before they sprung into action. Voight acknowledged Ruzek with a curt nod and Atwater immediately moved to Jay's side, helping apply pressure to your wounds.

The sirens outside grew louder as the ambulance neared their location. It wasn't long before the paramedics came rushing in with a stretcher, immediately getting to work on stabilizing you for transport to Med.

As they carried you out of the house, Jay followed closely behind, fear etched on his face but determination in his eyes. He watched as they loaded yoiu into the ambulance before climbing in right after them.

The team was left in the eerily quiet house -- a stark contrast to the chaos moments ago. Voight looked around at his team, each one wearing an expression of concern and fear for their colleague.

"Everyone alright?" he asked gruffly, though there was a hint of concern in his tone.

Ruzek and Atwater both nodded, and soon the team made their way to Chicago Med, making home in the waiting room, wanting to be there for both you and Jay.

Jay, having hopped out of the ambulance as you were unloaded and ushered into a trauma room, a few nurses stopping him from going in. "Jay, Jay stop!"

The detective pulled a hand through his hair, looking at his older brother, Will. "Will, you gotta help her, man."

Shaking his head, he nodded to where his coworkers Dr. Marcel and Dr. Choi were working on you, who had since lost consciousness. "I can't, bro. She's family, against hospital policy."

Jay hit the wall, tears coming to his eyes. "I can't lose her, man. We just got married, this can't be the end."

Will clapped his brother on the back, jaw tense. "They got her, Jay. She'll be good, she's a strong one."

The two brothers watched as you were rushed into emergency surgery, being told to wait in the waiting room for any updates.

------

Jay stared at the clock on the wall across from him, watching the hands move as time passed. It had been two hours since you were taken to the O.R., and as much as Will tried, he wasn't able to get any more information out of his coworkers.

"Hey, man." Adam walked over to Jay, handing him a coffee.

"Thanks." Jay spoke, voice raw. "You saved her life, Ruz."

Adam shook his head, sitting next to Jay. "It was my idea to split up. If we stuck together, maybe she wouldn't have gotten hit."

Jay looked at his friend. "Don't blame yourself, Ruz."

The two detectives sat in silence, only perking up when Will and Dr. Marcel walked out into the waiting room.

"Is she-" Jay cut himself off, unable to finish the question.

"She's alive. We got both the bullets out, there was some damage to her shoulder, but we were able to repair it all."

Jay let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding, grateful smile on his face. "Can I see her?"

Dr. Marcel shook his head. "Not right now. She's being moved to a recovery room in the I.C.U., a nurse will come out to bring you to her when she's settled."

"Will she still be able to be a cop?" Adam asked, the question plaguing him ever since he saw you hit the ground.

"With physical therapy and rest, Y/N should get full function and mobility of her shoulder. It won't be fast, she'll need lots of rest."

Jay thanked the surgeon, shaking his hand before he walked away.

------

Once the team had all heard that you made it through surgery, they headed back to the district to close up the case, the offender in CPD's morgue.

Jay sat up when a nurse walked over to him, smile on her face. Maggie, he recalled, from when Will introduced them a while ago. "She’s awake, she's asking for you."

Rising from the uncomfortable seat, Jay groaned as his back cracked, following Maggie down the halls to the I.C.U.

He smiled when he finally laid eyes on you, blinking blearily as the door opened and you saw your husband.

"Jay," you sighed in relief, her voice barely a whisper.

His breath hitched in his throat as he approached the bed. Your face was paler than he remembered, hair fanned out on the white hospital pillow. The sight of seeing you awake, those sparkling eyes looking at him despite being clouded by painkillers and fatigue, was enough to bring tears prickling in his eyes.

"Hey, baby," he murmured, carefully taking your hand and pressing a kiss to it. "How are you feeling?"

You gave a small wry smile. "Like I’ve been shot twice."

He chuckled weakly, stroking your hand with his thumb. "They said you did great in surgery."

You shrugged slightly, wincing after. "I don't remember much."

"They also said you’ll need a lot of rest and physical therapy for your shoulder."

You nodded slowly. “That’s okay. I can handle it.”

Jay looked at you, admiration clear in his eyes. Despite having just woken up from surgery and being shot twice, you were still trying to put up a brave face.

"There's my soldier," he said softly, brushing a loose strand of your hair from her your-drenched forehead.

Just then there was a soft knock on the door and Will walked in followed Dr. Marcel.

Dr. Marcel greeted you two with a warm smile as he approached your bed. He checked on your vitals before turning to Will and Jay.

"She's doing well considering the circumstances," Dr. Marcel reported.

Will nodded, sending you a comforting smile. "Should be able to get discharged in a few day’s time."

You nodded, looking at the sling your arm was in. "How long do I need to wear this?"

Dr. Marcel smirked, Will had warned him that his sister-in-law wasn't one to sit around and do nothing. "At least a month, but it depends on how your physical therapy goes. But, for a couple weeks, you can't move your arm. We had to repair some muscles in your shoulder, so it'll be sore."

You nodded, thanking the doctor as he left, Will following.

Jay looked at you, sad smile on his face. "Ruz is blaming himself."

You frowned, trying to sit up, wincing as your abdomen throbbed.

"Hey, hey, take it easy." Jay helped you sit up, making sure you were comfortable.

"Can I see the team? At least Adam, I want him to know it wasn't his fault." You looked at your husband, who nodded and pressed a kiss to your forehead, heading down to grab the team.

------

After a few days, you were finally able to leave the hospital. You had signed the discharge paperwork, and Jay walked back into the room after pulling the car around, soft smile on his face when he saw you struggling to get her coat on, one arm still in the sling.

"Here, let me help," he offered, walking over to you. He helped you put on the coat, paying extra attention to not disturb your injured shoulder.

You met his eyes and offered him a soft smile. "Thanks, babe."

Jay just nodded, his throat choked with emotion. He was relieved that you were okay but knew you had a long way to go for your complete recovery. He gently took your hand, gave it a squeeze, and lead out of the room.

As they walked through the silent corridors, you leaned into him slightly. It was subtle but Jay noticed it immediately. He wrapped his arm around you, offering her comfort and support. The worry lines on his face seemed to deepen as they moved towards the exit of the hospital.

Outside, the city was bustling as usual. The harsh city lights reflected off Jay's face as he helped you into their car before moving around to sit in the driver's seat.

The ride home was quiet. The only sound was the low hum of the engine and the occasional honk from nearby traffic. You were staring out of the window, mind lost in thoughts while Jay focused on driving, occasionally glancing over at his wife.

“Hey, Jay?” You looked over at him, voice quiet.

Jay hummed, glancing at you while he pressed on the gas petal when the light turned green.

“Just,” you paused, feeling a teenager in love again. “I love you.” ---- a/n: did u like it? also please don't expect good titles ever titles always make me wanna punch a brick wall