#this medication was a last resort

[elderflowerprince]

this isn't me trying to comment on anyone else's story or perspective or circumstances, it's just my own venting

my medication is killing me. it's ruining me.

i used to have no trouble walking up a hill after flights and flights of stairs, with a backpack of ten kilograms on my back and an extra couple kilos in a separate bag, every day. i also used to have seizures every morning. so much spilt tea. so many broken plates. so many bruises.

after a while, my doctor finally told me she would put me on new medication. that'll make three kinds at once, but the other two alone aren't working. the new one, it's only just out of the trial stage, they know it works for a lot of people but they're not sure of all the side effects yet. it seems safe, though. that's fine. that's fine. いいですよ、なんでも。i can't keep doing this anyway. i hate sitting around for hours every morning, waiting for the twitching and jerking to stop, unable to even have a conversation because my thoughts are lost to the void of a seizure every few seconds.

now i can sleep a full eight hours at night. now i don't have to wake up a few hours early every morning just to make sure i don't have any accidents trying to get myself ready for the day. now i'm blurry and dizzy and stumbly all the time. now i can barely walk straight. now i can't climb a single flight of stairs without getting so out of breath it hurts. i'm no longer exhausted for a lack of sleep, but i am just as impaired anyway, in a permanent haze of inability to focus. worse, you used to be able to tell with the twitching of my arms when i'd lost my train of thought. these days, i look like an idiot for forgetting what i was doing, or rude for not paying attention to you. i feel hot and cold and like i'm going to throw up half the time. i feel distant. i feel like it's all falling apart and i could not tell you why.

i can't go back. epilepsy was killing me too. you can't really take days off in this country, and tonic-clonic seizures are incapacitating in that sense--i can't move right for about a day or two for the muscle pain, every time. and i can't convey how awkward it is to constantly look like you're throwing things and poking or punching people, unable to explain that it's an uncontrollable arm spasm, when you're around anyone who doesn't know what "juvenile myoclonic epilepsy" is... and why would they know? that's such a specific condition, it just got highlighted by my spellchecker as a misspelling of "cyclonic".

i can't go back off medication, because it would kill me from stress or suffocation or maybe i'd hit my head or drown. but this is killing me in a different way too. just, probably, slower.

“do you really wanna be on medication for the rest of your life” if you knew me unmedicated you’d want me to be on medication for the rest of my life too

[somestorythoughts]

Dehydration

Back with some vampire clones!

Echo's throat feels like the air on a desert planet. The nutrients the Techno Union were giving him must have been high in iron or something, because he's well aware that blood brothers don't survive this long with only rations, but he's still so thirsty.

"Rex. Thirsty."

His Captain glances around the room automatically before he turns back to Echo. The General navigating with Tech, it's only vod here. "Blood or water?" He murmurs, the arm around Echo's shoulder's squeezing gently.

"Blood. Please?"

The sergeant - crap what was his name? - glanced up. "You're, what did that medic call them? A redder brother?"

"Blood or redder brother." Rex confirmed. "If you're unfamiliar I guess you don't have any bitten with you?" Bitten, their terms for brothers who are willing to be go-to's for all the blood brothers. Fives had been one.

"I'm not sure what that means?"

Rex grimaced. "How close are we to the Resolute?"

"Tech!" The Sargent calls. "What's our ETA?"

"Twenty-five minutes!" Is the shouted response. The other two troopers are watching, clearly curious.

"And time to get to the medbay." Rex adds. "Thirty minutes Echo. Can you hold on for thirty minutes?" Echo nods, too tired to say more.

Thirty minutes later a surprised Tech watches the ARC trooper they rescued sink alarmingly sharp teeth into the wrist of the ARC who'd accompanied them earlier. "Huh."

"Don't work with the blood brothers a lot do ya?" The ARC asks from where he's carefully holding Echo, apparently very relaxed with the biting. "Echo. You've got to breathe."

There's a snarl and the ARC winces. "Okay maybe you don't."

"Might need another volunteer Jesse." The medic - Kix - muttered. "Echo I'm going to scan you. Stay calm." He waits till he gets an acknowledgement, then starts.

"I have questions." Tech decides.

"Run me through what you know of these prosthetics and we can talk once I know he's stable."

[number-one-fan-of-doktor]

Would you get pregnant for Medic if you could

Mmm... Misha like being man with man parts. I have really nice man parts. If we both agreed to it, and was right place and right time, and was no other option, then да. But we, uh, what is phrase... Explore other roads first. Other avenues? Avenue and road is same thing, isn't it?

If I can not have baby other way, I will agree. But we discuss this first, maybe we find alternate option, да?

[tittyinfinity]

So I was promised to have help to get my stuff out of storage before the bill hit again. It's my birthday month and after paying everyone back and paying bills I'll have almost nothing.

I was ghosted on the help and just had to pay the $160 bill again.

If I could get some help with that I'd truly appreciate it. Single disabled queer parent, I make $760 a month.

CA: $niceworkbonedaddy

PP: yanidork

VM: nicework_bonedaddy

[anthromimicry]

the duality of misao being one of the few psychiatrists in arkham that has actually made progress with some of their patients and treats them like human beings, but also someone who does a complete 180° later + EATS her patients and gaslights people who ask about them into thinking they were never committed there is currently making me go feral. like girlll why are you like this JSJSJ

[giantkillerjack]

My brain: No! No!!!! If we put that on our face, we shall surely suffocate!!!

Me: Sir, this is a CPAP machine mask it is LITERALLY for helping with breathing.

My brain: LIES.

Me: Why would I--? Look, we've been using this for like 2 years! It definitely works!

My brain: 🎵🎸CUT MY LIFE INTO PIECES. THIS IS MY LAST RESORT. SUFFOCATION. NO BREATHING-- 🎸🎵.

Me: Sir, please...

[cuntylouis]

There are literally 3 euros left on my bank account

[angiestown]

started taking medication for my horrid feet and I didn't realize this until after buying it and reading over the side effects, but one of the common side effects is altered or lost sense of taste, which "may improve after stopping treatment, but can last for a long time or become permanent" which is like,, my one biggest covid symptom fear that I stop being able to taste and now I'm just popping pills that have a 1-10% chance of just doing that to me

[michaeljacksonlighterpost]

I need medical help ASAP

I have an aggressive tumor-like cyst (Odontogenic keratocyst) in my jaw that needs to be removed as soon as possible. I would use the money to help cover the medical expenses. The removal and recovery procedures will cost over 7,000 dollars.

Any bone that has made contact with the growth must be removed; I will already be losing 4 teeth because they came into contact with the cyst.

Likewise, I want to have this surgery in the next 6 months or, preferably, less so the growth has minimal time to expand (and potentially infect more jaw bone and teeth).

It's difficult to save money for the procedure because I'm only 20 and have been living alone since age 17. Any money I make goes towards living expenses.

I also don't have an extensive credit history due to my age, and likewise am ineligible for most loans. I've genuinely tried everything; e-begging is my last resort.

REBLOG & BOOST THIS PLEASE, I NEED HELP

Any amount helps or simply sharing so others may see.

I don't know what else to do, and I'm so scared of what's to come if I can't save up money in a timely manner.

Update: October 2023, help would still be appreciated. I'm still financially unstable.

[whumble-beeee]

Whumptember 2023, Day 11

“There’s nothing else I can do”

Last resort | Character death | Medical whump

The Bee’s Whumptember Masterlist

~1490 words

CW: probably wrong medical procedure based on my own limited medical training and experience, wishing for death, blood, implied knife wounds, technical medical talk, mentioned past torture, brainwashed whumpee, medical malpractice (but the good kind ig?), needles

(Continued from Day 10: What Are You Doing To Them. Turns out Detective does save Whumpee after all. kinda. heh.)

------------

Where… where was Whumpee? This was all much too white, much too bright. New noises pounded on their eardrums. Weren’t they supposed to be dead? Hanging limply by their wrists, crimson red blotting out their dark flesh so that it was practically a second skin? So good and pretty for Whumper, because they couldn’t struggle anymore and couldn’t be entertaining anymore, so dead was the only way Whumpee could make Whumper happy? They were supposed to be dead. They wanted to be. That was the only way they could be useful now.

Something was poking and prodding at them. Multiple somethings, multiple someones. Whumpee shifted uncomfortably and tried to move away, only to find they couldn’t. Straps. They were strapped to a bed, and the bed was jostling around. Nothing too out of the ordinary. Every slight movement exacerbated their dizziness. 

Had Whumper decided to keep them alive after all? Maybe this was just some new form of torture. That must be why Whumper put some sort of face mask on them. Poison, maybe. Whumpee would gladly take it. Even if their wounds made them so, so weak, even if the bright lights made them want to scream, even if they could barely feel what was happening to their body, even if the flurry of movement around them confused them, especially the agonizing poking and prodding. 

Even if some dark horrible part of their heart fluttered because maybe, just maybe, Whumpee was being saved. If only… No, no, Whumpee didn’t want to be saved. Whumpee wanted to please Whumper and be good for them. That was their only job in life.

Was Whumper even here? They usually liked to talk while torturing Whumpee.

No, Whumpee was good. Whatever Whumper wanted, Whumpee would do, even if this wasn’t their usual style. They would take it because they had to, and they wanted to. They wanted to. They would always take it, always, always, always, always, always…

------------

Detective frantically patted Whumpee’s cheek, and their eyelids twitched open again. Barely. One of the EMTs shoved Detective out of the way with an understandably authoritative “Move,” and got to work wiping off a staggering amount of crimson just from the crook of Whumpee’s elbow. They quickly placed and taped down the IV before readjusting the oxygen mask on Whumpee’s face for the third time, as the other EMT worked on staunching the blood endlessly gushing from the various gaping gashes and stab wounds all over their body. 

“They’re losing too much blood, tourniquet and elevate the limbs more and focus on stitching and pressure on the torso and head.”

Detective leaned back into the corner as much as they could. They almost wished they hadn’t climbed into the ambulance. They almost wished they’d listened as the personnel yelled at them to get out, before Detective’s determined glare and crossed arms made them decide it wasn’t worth trying to force Detective out when time was already a very precious and very quickly dwindling resource. Almost. 

They smiled to themself, despite everything. If nothing else, even if Whumpee didn’t end up pulling through, at least they had made that sick sadist pay. A mist of red spraying to the walls. A second bullet. That was all Detective could have wanted.

Whumpee shuddered on the gurney, momentarily thrashing under their restraints before falling still again.

“Don’t they need blood?” Detective called, jarred out of their thoughts. They started taking a mental tally of all visible wounds again. “They lost so much, and we don’t even know–”

“Yes, they do,” EMT1 interrupted, not looking up from their tourniquet. “We don’t have any, they’ll get it at the hospital.”

Detective sputtered. “They’re not gonna make it to the hospital! We’re in the middle of nowhere, it’s gonna take–”

“Look,” EMT1 spun on Detective. “We can’t do anything about it, or else we would! Now stay out of the way or I’ll have you thrown out of the damn vehicle.”

 They harshly tied off the tourniquet and moved to the next one. Then their face softened again. Just slightly. “We want them alive just as much as you...”

“I’m a universal donor!” Detective pleaded. “O negative! Take my blood!”

EMT1 paused and stared at Detective before remembering themself, shaking their head out and continuing to fuss over a particularly nasty gash. “Absolutely not, we can’t know that for sure, we can't test it, not to mention the malpractice suit alone would–”

“Shit!” The other EMT called suddenly. “Heart stopped beating, beginning compressions! Two, three, four…” They started pushing into Whumpee's chest before they even fully finished the sentence. The one chewing Detective out dashed to grab the AED machine, slammimg the two pads onto Whumpee’s chest around their partner's working hands, before rushing to the side of Whumpee’s head, tipping their head up and preparing to give life-saving breaths.

“Hey!” EMT1 yelled out to Detectives. “Come here and work the AED, it’ll prompt you on everything you need to do–” EMT2 finished their thirty compressions, and EMT1 stopped their orders to give two full breaths into the mask. Whumpee’s chest rose and fell with each breath before falling still again. EMT2 continued their compressions. EMT1 dashed across the cabin to press on the wounds again. ”--and make sure to yell ‘clear’ when it’s scanning AND when a shock is advised and then press the button–”

“They’re back!” EMT2 yelled again, ear pressed closely to Whumpee’s mouth and two fingers on the carotid artery. “Pulse weak as measured at the beginning, breathing normal. Continue as we were, and pay close attention to vitals!”

EMT1 froze, chest heaving shakily. “Okay, okay, nevermind, uh, go back to the corner…”

“Please, I’m O negative, I can help,” Detective begged. “They’re not gonna make it–”

EMT1 reeled on them, eyes fiery and wet, practically shaking, holding tense hands in front of themself placatingly as if they wanted nothing more than to grab Detective by the throat and hurl them out of the ambulance.

“We cannot give an emergency blood transfusion with your blood!” they yelled, breath ragged, whipping their hand up to silence Detectives protests. “We can’t verify the blood type, and if you’re wrong, they will die, and that’s not even touching on the amount of malpractice I’d be committing. There’s nothing I can do to–”

“Oh, lay off and just do it,” EMT2 called out from the other side of the gurney, pressing a cloth into Whumpee’s stomach wounds. “Guy’s a detective, they know their blood type, and you and I both know that the patient’s heart still somehow beating is one in a billion.” 

They reached across Whumpee to grab their partner's arms and press them down onto the cloth so they could grab something from the cabinets, snapping at Detective to do the same, and Detective fell in right next to EMT1. 

“We’re also what, twenty minutes away from the hospital? The will of God themself couldn’t keep this patient alive for that long without a transfusion.” They nodded to the blood still steadily pooling onto the floor, covering all their shoes in a dark crimson, soaking through the bottoms of their pants with a morbid stickiness.

EMT1 stared at Whumpee, searching over their frail frame as if the answers to their life were going to be etched onto Whumpee’s skin. Only different etchings, cuts, and deep purple and black bruises could be found, standing out brilliantly against Whumpee’s practically gray skin. They turned their eyes desperately to their partner, then Detective, then their partner again. “Do it. I’ll continue care until blood can be administered. If this doesn’t work, it's on your ass.”

“Always is,” EMT2 muttered with a jarring laugh. They beckoned Detective over as their partner worked in a flurry behind them, quickly tying a tight rubber tourniquet around Detective’s upper arm. “Try to keep still, lean on the wall. Get some water from the sink, too. You’re absolutely sure you’re a universal donor?”

EMT2 grabbed them by the elbow and shoved the needle into the vein without waiting for a response. Detective swallowed. “I’ve done this before. Never been more sure in my life.”

EMT2 nodded as they finished, rushing away to help with Whumpee again just as thick blood suctioned up through the thin tube and into the waiting blood bag. Detective was already starting to feel a bit woozy. Great time to remember their fear of needles.

They forced their gaze away from the slowly filling bag, over to Whumpee lying half dead on the gurney with the EMTs rushing around them, patching them up with practiced precision. They watched with baited breath each time their chest rose and fell, hoping the next one wouldn’t be their last. Up, down, up, down. Don’t pass out. Then back to the blood draw kit, sucking out the lifesaving liquid from Detective so it could continue its journey in Whumpee.

God, this had better work.

@whumptember

[droodlebug]

btw thank you soooo much to those who donated to my ko-fi. those combined with my darling friend's comm have got me Very close to being able to pay off my debt 💕 i appreciate it with everything i have

[maslows-pyramid-scheme]

You got beef with adhd now ?

Does raising legitimate questions about the potential over-prescription of ADHD medication count as 'beef' now?

[ponzu]

do not understand people on TH who will have all of their OCs up for money offers etc. like is nothing sacred to you

[muu-kun]

"I've been.. thinking on all the day, and.. I've made my pick to be going forward with.. socially transitioning into being a woman Muu."

[lunarlicorice]

i wish therapy didn't take over a year of waitlist time bc now the shit they got me signed up for is not the problems i have now. like yeah i needed that 12 months ago.

[fractallogic]

I’m feeling very anxious about bag loss during travel today, so I am unfortunately going to go to a SECOND OfficeMax to see if they have luggage locks and garish luggage tags for me, because neither target nor the first OfficeMax had any for me (but target did have compression bags AND a very shiny silver belt for an outfit, so)

Meanwhile my digestive tract has been very fussy and idk why, but at least it reminded me to pick up some pepto bismol pills just in case

But after that, I’m gonna come home and either take a little nap (with or without library book) or start packing (because I’m so anxious that I’m gonna forget something)