#tw:medical talk

[thewheezingwyvern]

Dark Content

tw:Death, tw:COVID, tw:PTSD, tw:Medical talk, tw:rape mention 

It took me longer than it really should have to sit down and type this up. I don’t know if this is going to help but I hope that it helps some of you understand and to calm down when you get up in arms about dark content. 

As some of you know I’m a smut writer here. Most of what I share here now is smut. However if you were to take those pieces and assume my sexual activity about me you would be very, very wrong. I am on the asexual spectrum and my husband and I have never had penetrative sex. It’s not for me. Hell most times in general I find sex to be gross and repulsive. And yet there seems to be this mindset here that if I write it, it must mean I want it. I’m not even really a dark content writer, and yet I still see that. Why?

I think some of you really need to grasp the concept that just because we have stuff that we enjoy writing and reading does not mean we enjoy it in real life or support it in real life.

Fiction is a safe space for us to explore things. Not just writers but readers as well. I can enjoy exploring dynamics but that doesn’t mean that it’s something I would want in my real life. Take for example....I had the chance once to write a fic (not here) with a religious cult environment. It was super toxic and dangerous and that was part of the intrigue. It raised the stakes and honestly the dynamic was fun to explore. But I would in no way, shape or form want to be in that environment myself.

Not only can writing this stuff be a way to explore things safely, it can also be a way to process and help handle traumas and stresses. My fic Biohazard, is focused around the pandemic and some of the uglier sides of the medical field in addition to a romance/sex plot. And I literally write it because I am a responder knee deep in the trenches of this fucking pandemic. I decided to share that because while it’s helping me, it might also help others. 

I write things because I want to and because they help me and because I can explore things safely in the sanctum of fiction. But what is safe for me may not be safe for others and that is literally why the warnings and tags exist.

I’m going to be honest: it is incredibly hard not to be angry with a lot of you antis right now. Like a deep primal rage in me that could rival the heat of the sun. We are living in a time of a global crisis with an awful virus. I am watching in real time so many people DIE from this pandemic and die alone. Our entire medical system is being taxed to the fucking brink and we have a thousand and one problems that need to be fixed. A thousand and one hurtles to champion for and what do you pick?

Two D fucking lines. 

With all the time and energy some of you sink into this, you could actually address real world problems that are actively happening right now. But the fact is...most of you don’t want to actually “fix” anything. You want to destroy other people to elevate yourself and you pick an outlet that makes you have the “moral high ground” so to speak.

And I am so goddamn tired of it. 

Like I’m not saying you have to LIKE the content. Or even approve. But you literally don’t know anything about that person other than what they write out and believe it or not, fanfiction of any sort is not some kind of manifesto that authors put out on what we want in real life. It’s not a check list. It’s ok to not like the content. Just keep moving on with your life. Block the tag, filter it out and keep scrolling.

I don’t really talk about my experiences on here because one it’s a very personal thing and two a lot of what I see? It’s not something the average person can just hear casually. But I can tell you now in my line of work not only do I see grisly things, bloody things, violent things but I’ve also seen the effects of abuse on people. I have seen first fucking hand the look on someone’s face when they realized “someone just tried to kill me” or “that person nearly raped me”. 

You want to champion victims? Then go actively donate and support organizations or are supposed to actually help those survivors, not harass anonymous strangers over the internet that you make assumptions about without even knowing them based on their content. You want to make a change? Then go find ways to help the organizations that are dedicated to helping those people instead of directing that on fanfiction.

[kindnotestoself]

So it has come to this. I have been called out as a fake and a liar who has been trying to get internet points and not actually sick or deaf. I never thought I'd have to prove my nf2 and disabilities, but here's some of my shots from the past few years. I work very hard to try and do the things I can. I am also super positive and try very hard running blogs that promote mental health, raise awareness for NF2, run support the deaf community in my area and am a fairly active member in a few different support groups online.

I am both hurt and saddened by this accusation. My NF2, disabilities and mental illnesses are each major factors in my life that I try to help coach and support other people through. I've been a very vocal advocate for several groups, and I cannot describe how much it stings when I work so hard and try to do so much. Things like this make me want to step away from my computer for a while and focus on myself. I love all of you guys, but my heart hurts

[megcapulet]

Relapse || Mez

Who: Megan and Oz

Where: Penthouse/ hospital

When: Tuesday 26th June 2018

Notes/ Warnings: Megan takes ill again and Oz rushes her to hospital.  

tw:medical    tw:hospital

@ozmontague

Megan was utterly exhausted as she drove home. Stopped at yet another red light it was beginning to feel as if the entire city's traffic system was conspiring against her. Suddenly she was aware of a sharp pain in her chest again. It had come on and off all day but never lasted for long however this time it seemed to be hanging around for longer than she would have liked. Finally arriving at the Tower Megan parked her car and took the elevator up to the penthouse. As she stepped out of the doors she couldn't catch her breath at all and stood leaning back against the wall and her eyes closed as she tried to steady herself, her breath coming in pants.

Oz finally felt as if things were returning to normal. He and Megan hadn't quite had a full scene yet, at least not his version, but they were getting there. He finished up for the day and put away the last of his files before heading to the elevator. Sometimes it was frustrating to live in the same building he worked but on days like this it was wonderfully convenient. He pushed open the door and looked over at Megan, leaning against the wall, far too pale. "Megan? What is it?"

Megan barely lifted her head as she heard his voice. "I....I just need a moment," she gasped, panic starting to well within her. "I'll just...." she slid herself down the wall so she was sitting on the floor. Bending her legs up she rested her forehead against her bent knees trying desperately to remember the correct position for heart attack victims from her training all those years ago and assuming that position would help in this case too.

Oz bent low to touch the back of her head. "Megan." he stated her name more than he asked it as his mind raced, calculating distances and times. Within seconds he picked up his phone and called his driver. He scooped her up carefully and carried her to the elevator, pressing the button for the garage. Within minutes he was sliding them both into the back seat of his town car. "Just breathe my beauty, just breathe."

Megan was finding it difficult to focus on anything. She knew she had to breathe but the pain in her chest made her wince and that stopped her wanting to take a breath again. He was there, Oz was right beside her she did know that much and the only conscious thought she had was that he would keep her safe. She offered no resistance as he lifted her from the ground though her muddled thoughts did register slight surprise as he took her into the elevator and not into bed. Once in the car she did her best to follow his instructions and breathe but her eyes kept screwing shut as each sharp pain cut through her like a knife. By the time the car slowed she just wanted to sleep and she was struggling to keep her eyes open.

Oz kept his eyes on her face as the driver handled his job. They arrived in the hospital in mere minutes but by then Oz was whispering, "Just stay with me ... stay ... please Megan ... just stay with me." He didn't get out of the car as he stopped, letting the driver fetch the attention of the medical personnel as he focused on the woman in his arms. As the door opened, the look in his eyes was so painfully desperate, the nurse actually hesitated for a moment before reaching for Megan.

Megan couldn't understand why he wanted her to stay. She wasn't going anywhere, she just wanted to sleep and he kept talking so she couldn't. As arms reached for her Megan's hand curled around his so she could stay with him. A bright light kept flashing and she was vaguely aware of some shouting but nothing she could put her finger on as she was suddenly lying down and being whisked through the hospital. A mask was placed over her face and her brain said oxygen. It became a little easier to breath and her chest didn't feel quite as tight but the exhaustion she had been fighting all day took over and she finally gave in letting her eyes draw closed.

Oz followed her out of town car, refusing to let go of her hand until the doctors eventually insisted that he step away. He settled against the wall and watched as they worked on her. Finally when her condition stabilized he was allowed to go sit next to her. Once again, she was in the hospital, looking far too small and fragile in the hospital bed. He did not try to hide the tears as they traced his cheeks.

Megan woke to the steady beep of the heart monitor and the horrible feeling of the oxygen mask over her face. The pain, she quickly realised, had gone and again as she turned her head she saw Oz sitting right by her side. Pulling off the mask she gave him a weak smile, "Hi." She could see the dried tear tracks down his cheeks and that almost broke her. How could she keep putting him through this...even though it was not something she was choosing to do?

Oz looked up from their entwined hands as Megan moved. "Hello my beauty. Are you feeling better?" He asked softly as he reached up a hand to brush back soft strands of hair. "The doctors will be back soon I'm sure. Apparently you have been quite naughty and not taking care of yourself enough. We're going to have to change some of your rules I think my beauty."

Megan nodded at the question as she moved her mask aside again, "Much better Master." Her eyes fluttered closed at his gentle touch but soon opened again in surprise at his words. "I've done what I was supposed to. I have taken my medication every day and I was feeling a lot better. Today was just very stressful....and so was yesterday, in fact it's just not been a great week. I am sure I will feel better again soon." The end of his statement whirled around her head as she asked, "Change which rules?"

Oz nodded, "Good. I am glad to hear it." He murmured with a soft brush of his fingertips over her cheek before he cupped her face. "We'll get to those later. I'm afraid you will find them a bit strict to begin but you will settle." He murmured quietly before leaning in to kiss the curve of her lips. Then the door swung open and medical personnel hurried in to check her.

Megan 's eyes narrowed and she gazed at him in confusion, not sure what he was thinking but before she could question him the room seemed to fill with doctors and nurses. Her cardiologist had been called in and was studying the ECG printout along with a few others. "Your rhythms have settled again your heart rate is back to normal." He began to ask Megan questions about when the pain had started and how long she had had it before a decision was reached. "I am going to give you another tablet which you take three times a day for the next three days, that should help to relieve any lingering effects of this episode. You keep taking your normal tablets as well and you will find these new tablets may make you quite drowsy so no driving and I would advise taking a few days off work. I'll have the pharmacy dispense your new medication and once you have it you are free to leave unless there are any questions." Dr Lorenzo looked between the two of them and Megan shook her head and happy that she did not have to spend the night in hospital with Oz not getting any rest again.

Oz listened and felt his frustration build as Megan relayed that she had felt the symptoms build. If she wouldn't take care of herself then he would have to stop trusting her word. That alone was frustrating. "Thank you Dr. Lorenzo. We appreciate your time and help." He stated with a genuine nod of appreciation. He pulled out his phone and called his driver again to relay the good news and arrange their pickup. "I will go to the pharmacy to collect the new prescription. Please remain here until I return."

Megan watched as Oz called his driver and gave his instruction to her but there was no softness to his words and she couldn't help wondering if he was genuinely frustrated with the situation. If this was going to happen again was he really going to stay with her and that fear began to bloom within her again. She sat on the edge of the bed waiting for his return and wondering whether she should call Drew yet or if word of this would get out to him soon enough.

Oz returned with the simple white paper bag in hand, which he held out for Megan to take from him. "Come ... hospital policy says that you must travel by wheelchair." He murmured gently as he held out a hand to her to help her off the bed and then into the conveyance. He was struggling to control his temper in the moment and determined not to say anything to his beautiful claim until they were alone. "I have messaged Drew. He will be coming to the penthouse tomorrow. You will be calling in sick." he ordered crisply but quietly.

Megan lifted her head as the door opened and he came back with her new medication. She took the offered bag and while she was quite sure she could have walked she knew he was right about the policy and climbed into the wheelchair. Megan was struggling to read his mood as everything he said seemed clinical and cold but she also knew that it was quite late and he must be tired. The news that he had already tected Drew was a surprise and she turned to look at him.  “There’s no need to disturb….” her words fell away and she turned back to the front with a muttered, “Yes my Lord.”

Oz looked at her sharply, "Good girl." he murmured quietly as he wheeled her to the entrance. There were only a few reporters there, given the time of day, and he managed to hustle the lovely brunette into the backseat before settling in beside her. His arm circled her slim shoulders and rested there. He felt the soul deep kind of tired.

Megan felt her stomach clench at the abrupt look from him and she began to wonder if he was cross with her rather than her condition. She felt herself tense and panicked as he manoeuvred her through the hallway but as he wrapped his arm around her in the car she felt calmer and began to doze as they made the short journey back to the Tower.

Oz felt her nod off against him and he had to work hard to quell his internal panic and residual anger over the day's events. As the car stopped in the parking garage, he unbuckled her seatbelt and slipped an arm under her knees before lifting her from the seat. He carried her to the private elevator and within minutes they were on route back to where the night had begun so horribly many hours before.

Megan began to stir as the car stopped but she was still very drowsy and more than happy to let Oz carry her to the elevator. The white paper bag clutched tight in one hand she opened her eyes with a groan as she realised they were travelling up to their home. "You must be tired, I can stand," she said gently.

Oz sighed as she spoke. "My beauty. Kindly shut the hell up." he grumbled quietly. He was working very hard to control his temper but if she continued to say ridiculous things, that control would snap to an end.

Megan stopped talking straight away. Staying quiet was quite obviously the best thing to do in this instance and that she could manage. As they reached the penthouse she forced herself to stay as she was, in his arms until he told her otherwise.

Oz stepped into the suite, her purse and other items still scattered at the front entrance. He kicked off his shoes but ignored everything else. He carried her through the open space until he reached the bedroom. He seated her on the edge of the bed. "To take these medicines, do you need food?" he asked somewhat brusquely as he stripped the younger woman out of her clothing with gentle hands. In a rare turn, he slipped a clean one of his own shirts over her small frame. He satisfied something primal in him, he couldn't help but feel satisfied as he rolled up the sleeves so she had use of her hands. He adjusted the pillows. "Sit back. You are allowed to leave this bed to use the facilities and that is all. I am going to make some food and then you are going to call in sick and go to bed. No part of this statement is negotiable. Do you understand me Megan?"

Megan chewed at her lower lip as he carried her through the space and into the bedroom. It was on the tip of her tongue to argue she could walk but even his walking seemed jerky and screamed of his annoyance. The sudden question about her medication drew her from her haze and she opened the bag to check. "Yes, with food," she muttered, putting the bag down on her bedside table. She offered no resistance as he undressed her and tried to hide the surprise as he immediately put one of his shirts on her. The whole situation was confusing her greatly but then he spoke again and the ice in her stomach reappeared. It was late and she was more than ready to sleep but she could see where this was going. "I feel much better, I can go to work tomorrow and if you really want me to see Drew I can go over at lunchtime or after work. There's no need to put anyone out."

Oz met her eyes and his jaw clenched hard. "Megan. This is not negotiable and I will not be arguing with you. If you do not call in sick, I will embarrass you by calling in myself and locking you in here tomorrow. Do /not/ push me right now. You promised me you would not do this to me again. You /promised/. Now I am going to go make you something light to eat with your medication and you can sleep."

Megan swallowed hard at the look on his face. She could and would have conceded easily enough to making the call but the way he made it sound like her fault had her seeing red. "I didn't do anything. You make it sound like I wanted to spend the evening in pain. I can't control this!" Her voice was raised by the time she was finished and her chest was heaving as she moved forward, up on her knees as she looked at him, torn between wanting to cry or run away from the whole thing.

Oz gestured toward the bed. "You will sit back right now." He smoothed a frustrated hand over his face. "You are lying. I heard you tell the doctors how many days you have been feeling these symptoms, how long you have been neglecting what your body needs, telling me you were fine, you were lying to me and maybe to yourself. But I will not tolerate this any longer Megan. If you won't take care of yourself, if your words cannot be trusted then I will deal with the situation. You control it by taking care of yourself and you didn't. You promised me and you let me down."

Megan did as she was told and sat back against the pillows, her gaze never leaving him. His words cut deep though. She hadn't intended to lie to him. It was all little things that she could explain away and she didn't want to cause him to fuss. By the time he finished speaking tears were streaming down her face as she choked out her words, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to lie to you. I didn't want any of this......I just didn't think about it. I just felt a lot better and didn't.....I just didn't think." She reached for a tissue and roughly wiped away the worst of her tears as she reached for her phone ready to make the call to her work.

Oz felt such pain at her tears. These weren't the tears he enjoyed - the ones intermixed with sexual pleasure and the sweet taste of her submission. She was hurting and he hated that she was hurt. However, he also absolutely livid. "Well it is time for you to start thinking. You are not taking this seriously but I am. If you are not careful, you will not get to the hospital in time. If you won't do it for me or for yourself, then I will take steps because losing you because you have decided our life together isn't worth it ... well that's not a fucking option.”

Megan knew that he was angry but as he spoke she could feel the intensity of it. She had never seen him this furious and the urge to throw herself at his feet and beg forgiveness was very strong. However he had made it very clear that she was to stay on the bed so she remained rooted to the spot. The warning that one day she would not get to the hospital in time made her sick to her stomach and it broke her heart that this was clearly something that he had been thinking about. Reining her tears in a little she sobbed, "Our life together is what makes it all worth living. I love you, I don't ever want to lose you and I'm sorry. I'll do better I promise, I'll be better."

Oz leaned in, wrapping his hands around her sweet face and met her eyes, "Do not make me lose you. Do not do this to me /ever/ again. I will never forgive myself if you died like that Megan. It would destroy me for the rest of my life ... do you understand what I am telling you?" he growled as he met her bright eyes overflowing with tears.

Megan could feel the tears choke in her throat as he spoke. His words hurt far more than any kind of physical reprimand would and she had never regretted her actions quite as much. Tears streamed again, less hysterical than before but she still had no chance of stopping them. "I understand, I'll tell you I promise. Even if I think it's nothing I'll tell you." She hated the thought of being wrapped in cotton wool and never being allowed to do things but that would be far preferable to the way she felt now and the hurt she saw in his gaze.

Oz sat himself on the bed and pulled her onto his lap. The anger slowly started to dissipate although he wondered if the nugget of pain would ever truly fade. "Never again." he whispered softly as he wrapped his arms around her and his own tears started to run.

Megan felt herself release some of the guilt she felt as he pulled her over. His words were so soft she could barely hear them over her own breathing but she echoed them, "Never again." Resting her head against his shoulder her tears hadn't stopped entirely and as she tipped her head up and saw his it broke her heart again. She didn't know whether to react to them or not but chose to give him a moment where she stayed quietly in his arms, very much there and alive to recover. There were no more promises to be made that night, she meant every word she had said but it was growing late and they were both clearly tired. "I should make that call," she murmured after a few more minutes.

Oz released her reluctantly and dusted away the tears that had stained his cheeks. "I ..." his voice was thick and heavy so he paused to clear his throat. "I ... will go make something for you to eat with your medications."

Megan gave a slight nod and watched him go. She obediently ate her snack and took her medication before settling down for the night, cuddling into him more than she usually would have given the conversation but wanting to feel him close to her.

[ladyhatty]

TW:Medical Talk TW: Dystopian tropes I can’t mention without killing a fun reveal but it’s in the tags

I was living in an arcology (y’know, like you do ) going on cool water slides, rock climbing, just having fun around the place. I was just wandering around thinking about grabbing some dinner when I met a lovely young lady. She was smart and funny, with cute short ruffled brown hair and a great laugh. I was completely smitten. Then I noticed when she laughed a lot or got excited or angry she’d get these big purple splotches on her skin. Not a human color, but bright amethyst purple. And at the center of a few of the larger blotches were small black/green splotches that never went away. She noticed me looking and said “You look surprised” I blushed “I am, I’ve never seen anything like that before, are you ok?” She looked disgusted “You people are killing us on mass and you say you don’t even know?” “What?” She looked dejected and deeply hurt “You really don’t know?” I nodded “Follow me” She lead me to the nearest elevator and up 80 floors, near the industrial areas. High enough that that air waste wouldn’t bother the outdoor gardens, parks, and other fun outdoor areas but low enough to not bother the ultra rich with the fancy views. We headed off the elevator down an industrial hallway towards a more run down area near the outer wall. There was a strange smell in the air that got stronger the further we went. We came to a door with a man behind a desk next to it. He looked at me critically and asked “You sure?” I looked at the girl, she took my arm and lead me to the door “She’s sure” He shrugged “Your funeral” and there was a beep and the door opened. The smell I’d been sensing got stronger and I thought I could identify it, smoke, medicine, and cooked meat. It wasn’t terribly pleasant but the girl seemed unphased so I just followed her.

The room we were in was large and cavernous, from my estimate it must have gone straight to the outer walls. The light was dim, it looked like there were large fluorescent lights in the ceiling but the glow was dissipated by the light smoke in the air.

People were mostly hunched around tables and going in and out of what looked like tents. I looked at the girl “What is this place? Nothing is supposed to be like this here.” I was confused and starting to feel sick, something was terribly wrong here.

She no longer looked disgusted, just sad “This is where we live. Can’t have us sickies around you regular people.”

“But you were out?” I felt like she was being intentionally vague or I didn’t know the right questions to ask.

She pointed to one of her sickly green black patches, the horrible word ‘gangrene’ sprang to mind “ Only 6%, once I’m over 25% I can’t leave, over 90% and it’s game over. Of course I’m still only allowed in the less crowded places.”

“You’re sick?” she nodded, “But with what? And is it contagious?” I tried not to look as uncomfortable as I felt.

She noticed anyway and took a small step closer to me, she was getting those purple patches again and I could see a purple tint to her eyes as well “Only at 100%, so don’t worry, they don’t let that happen.”

I knew the answer before I asked but I had to ask just to keep hope, “Can’t they cure you sooner.” It wasn’t even really a question.

“They don’t cure us.” she started walking past me “Come on”

I followed her to the edge of the room where there were a series of rooms built into the wall with barred doors. The smell there was almost overwhelming, no more smell of medicine, just the smoke and meat with an undercurrent of strong bleach. There were large guards standing nearby. One came towards us and pointed at me. “She doesn’t go any closer.” My guide nodded. 

“I know, just showing her”

He grinned maliciously “Show doesn’t start for another 15 minutes.” As he laughed I could see his own purple patches come in, I guessed everyone in the room must be sick. Everyone but me.

She just gave him a withering glare. He just laughed and walked back to his post leaving us alone. I was trying to see what was behind the bars when a figure slammed against the door.

Their eyes were almost pure purple, with only slightly lighter and darker shades for the pupil and iris. All the skin I could see, their bald head, face, and hands, were almost entirely covered in that horrible brackish green with only two smaller blotches of dark purple.

I jumped, startled and they let out a horrible harsh laugh “Try seeing it in the mirror” they rasped out then pulled away from the bars, sinking back into the darkness of their cell. 

“That’s what 90% looks like.” My new friend said quietly, almost reverently. “That will be me in a few short years.”

I once again asked a question I didn’t want to “So what happens in 15 minutes?”

She sighed, “You really don’t want to see, let’s go somewhere more pleasant  and I can explain.” I nodded and she lead me back to the exit of the room.

There was another desk inside of the room, this one also flanked with guards. she stopped at the desk “Bridget, 486392.” she told the desk attendant. Bridget, I hadn’t even asked, thinks had gone too fast.

He nodded and typed into his computer “And her?” I automatically rattled off my own name and number “Paige, 486536.”

He typed on the computer again then looked up  “She’s not sick.” Bridget nodded. He looked me dead in the eye.“Get out of here while you can girl.”

I followed her out of the room without another word.

We walked back towards the elevator taking it back down to the floor of my apartment, the 19th. We sat down in my living room, after everything I’d seen it felt surreal to be home. Like I was showing off to have her here after seeing where she lived, but I didn’t know where else to take her for privacy for our conversation.

“You really didn’t know.” She said quietly.

“I don’t think most people do.” I said sadly. “But it’s not like it’s hidden, they just let me walk right in.”

She shrugged, “More people than you think know, they just don’t want to think about us.”

“So what is it? I’m sorry if that’s rude it’s just...insane.” I held my hands in front of me and realized I was shaking. I felt numb.

She shrugged “They haven’t told us a whole lot. You’re either born with it or you’re not.”

“It’s a genetic thing?” that just made the treatment of them feel even crueler.

“Not...really?” she sounded uncertain, “Your kids have a better chance to get it than mine. There’s something in the disease that makes the kids almost immune but it doesn’t get passed down. It makes us more fertile too.”

Suddenly so much made sense. Our society used a foster system for all children. You left your birth parent at birth and were given to a couple or person who wanted a child. We were always told it was a kindness, it meant the birth mother could recuperate from childbirth and fertile people could give birth without being stuck with parenting. Many people weren’t fertile anymore so it let people parent who otherwise couldn’t.

Or maybe that was all a lie. Maybe instead sick purple babies were taken from their healthy birth parents and sent off to the awful place I had just been. While healthy babies were taken from their sick parents and taken downstairs to a better life.

She said it made them more fertile. Falling birth rates had been a problem since long before I was born. It was another explanation for the foster system. Fertile adults could have as many babies as possible without being stuck raising a brood of children.

“So they just let you have our babies then die of being sick?” The percentages she mentioned flashed across my mind. “90%?”

She nodded sadly, “At 100% the disease has fully activated and we become super contagious,” She paused, from the look on her face I didn’t know if I wanted her to continue. “The skin dries , flakes off, becomes airborne. If they let someone get to that point the whole arcology would get sick.”

She bowed her head and when she spoke her voice was  on the edge of breaking “The person you saw in the cell, he’ll die in there. 15 minutes after we left they’ll fry the cell then bleach it, making sure nothing gets out.”

“We’re not just letting them die.” A voice said from behind me. Bridger and I both jumped.

I whipped around and there stood my roommate. I hadn’t even thought to check if he was home. ”Dylan..”

“We don’t just let them die,” he repeated himself, sitting down next to me. “We’ve been trying, we’re supposed to just be doing research on it.” He had just last year finished his doctorate and gone to work in the labs for infectious diseases. “But after seeing them, how could we not try to help. Dr. Pelton,” his lead at the lab,” and I have been working on a way to keep the upped fertility and immunity but cure the organ shutdowns.” I must have looked confused. “It’s not just the skin, the liver, kidneys, and so on break down as it progresses.”

Bridget had tears streaming down her cheeks. She whispered, “You’re looking for a cure?”

He got down on his knees in front of her and took her hands, looking her straight in the eyes. Not phased at all by the purple spreading across her face. “I promise you, we are doing everything we can to help. We just keep running into one major issue,we can’t try them without a volunteer. Will you help us.”

I expected her to be upset or offended but she didn’t even hesitate for a moment. “Yes. I’ve seen to many people die. It would be an honor.”

~~~~

So this was the first part of a dream I had last night and just had to get out. It’s not great, I haven’t written in ages but hopefully someone can still enjoy it. I want to keep it going if I can get the motivation going. We’re moving and have a toddler so my motivation tends to get eaten up pretty quickly.

[littleroboannie]

TW: TALK OF EYE TRAUMA/SURGERY(POSSIBLE)/MEDICAL

So my eye has been bugging me again and I went back to the doctor yesterday. To say he was concerned is putting it mildly. 

The upper 35% of my cornea is scarred. My eye is extremly inflamed and red. He says if it is not better then I will have to go to a specialist and see what they can do. 

He did mention two things that scared the shit out of me. One is if it is related to my thyroid- they can use silver nitrate to burn some of the blood vessels. Or if the scarring keeps getting worse then possibly down the road I may have to have a corneal transplant. 

Now those two things are infact a last ditch effort. But honestly I am scarred shitless right now and I don't know what to do.

My manager said I could call into today or tomorrow if I needed to. I just really really hate the idea of calling in. But at the same time I know I need to rest my eye and keep it peaceful as I can right now. But missing work really sucks.

Which is another thing that scares me. I am uninsured. I have no way to pay for a major surgery if it comes to that. 

Can I just hide underneath a blanket and wish all the bad stuff away?

[littleroboannie]

TW: HOSPITAL (ER), EYE TRAUMA AND MEDICAL TALK

So I had to go to the hospital last night because my eye was really red and irritated. 

Turns out I some how have three corneal abrasions. They also flushed my eye out with a crap ton of saline for like 15 minutes. Boys and girls that is not fun :/ And I have to take a bunch of meds and such. But now my eye doesn't hurt so badly.

But I also get to wear an eyepatch. And SO said that I was very brave. I survived an attack by a mini Dino. I giggled.