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justlookfrightened · 7 years ago

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prompt. jack taking care of sick bittle or viceversa?

This is really fluffy. Like, cotton candy-fluffy.

Jack knew the moment he heard Bitty’s voice on message.

It would have been extremely disappointing, if not for the rasp and slight quaver Jack could hear,

“Hi there, sweetpea. I hope practice is going well today. I, um, I have some bad news. I’m not going to go to Providence today. I’m just not really feeling up to it, so I’m going to stay here and rest, and not get you sick. I’ll miss you, sweetheart. Love you.”

As it was, the message was simply worrying, because Jack was pretty sure Bitty had been looking forward to this weekend as much as he was. Six weeks into Bitty’s school year and two weeks into his season, with preseason games just starting for Jack, they were reminded once again of how hard it was to see each other regularly when Bitty was at Samwell and Jack was in Providence.

“Something wrong?”

Marty was watching Jack frown at his phone.

“Bitty’s sick,” Jack said. “He said he’s not going to come for the weekend.”

“That’s rough,” Marty said. “Can you head up there for a while? Bring him some soup or something?”

“What? Little B’s not coming to our game tomorrow?” Tater said.

“Doesn’t look that way,” Jack said. “Sorry, Tater, no pie this weekend.”

“I’m not worrying about the pie,” Tater said, looking affronted. “You go see him, make sure he’s okay. Talk to coaches if you need. They’ll let you off morning skate tomorrow.”

“I don’t know,” Jack said. “He’s pretty stubborn. And he called when he knew I was in practice so he wouldn’t have to talk to me.”

Which really kind of sucked, Jack thought, because he wanted to talk to Bitty. Even if all Bitty said was those four sentences.

“He probably didn’t want to worry you,” Marty said.

“It didn’t really work,” Jack said. “I think I will go down there. Maybe I can get him to come back with me if I drive him. Otherwise I can just go back and forth. It’s not that far.”

Jack stowed his gear at home and packed an overnight bag with a change of clothes and a book just in case he ended up staying. The Haus would have basic over-the-counter medicines – Jack was pretty sure Bitty maintained the medical kit – and a thermometer, and he’d left a phone charger there last year, after he and Bitty told the Samwell team that they were dating.

He did try to call Bitty, but it went straight to voicemail.

“Hey, bud, I’m sorry to hear you’re sick. Do you think you’d be more comfortable at home in Providence if I could come get you?”

Then he called Bitty’s favorite diner in Samwell and asked for them to pack up a quart of chicken noodle soup to go.

Last, he texted Lardo to get Ford’s phone number.

***************

Ford hung up the phone and shook her head.

Why anyone worried about Bitty when Jack Zimmermann was on the case was a mystery. A real, true mystery.

Well, of course she knew why. Jack couldn’t always be there, given his one-of-the-top-players-in-the-NHL work commitments. But she was pretty sure that if he could find a way, Jack would take care of Bitty as well anyone could. Even if it meant calling Bitty’s own mother and flying her here.

Jack’s call had come just at the end of Ford’s Theater as Design class, ringing as she packed her things for the trek to the dining hall, and she picked up without registering that it was from a number she hadn’t saved.

When she answered, Jack had apologized for going to Lardo for her number and then just started in without waiting for a response.

“How’s Bitty? Has he been to see a doctor? Do Hall and Murray know he’s sick? Is he taking care of himself?”

Ford spared a thought to wonder why Jack hadn’t called Chow, or Ollie or Wicks … someone he actually knew, more than having been introduced a few times. Then she remembered the way Hall and Murray had told her to make sure Bitty got to the health center after they pulled him off the ice at yesterday’s practice. He clearly wasn’t himself, and his cough was concerning. As he dressed and walked with her to the clinic, Bitty had admitted to coughing so hard he vomited before practice, and he was clearly feverish.

“The nurse practitioner said it’s an early case of the flu,” Ford said. “She gave him Tamiflu, and said that given his general health, he should recover in a few days. But he’s off the ice for at least a week. I got him excused from all his classes through next Thursday, too.”

“Fuck,” Jack said. “He just told me he was under the weather.”

“Yeah, he was pretty clear he didn’t want anyone calling you,” Ford said. “He was afraid you’d get sick if you came down. But he didn’t say I couldn’t talk if you called me.”

“I’m on my way down,” Jack said. “I’m bringing soup, but I think it would be better if I brought him home with me. If he’s that worried, I can sleep in the guest room, but we’re not on the road this week.”

“It’s probably a good idea,” Ford said. “They people who live in the Haus love him to death, but they don’t clean the way he does. And if the place turns into a sty, he’ll feel guilty. Just give me 24 hours notice before you bring him back and get them to get the place back into shape.”

“As long as you make them do it,” Jack said. “You’re the manager, not their mother.”

He paused.

“You think I should call his mother?”

“Maybe leave that up to him?” Ford said. “I mean, no one seems to think this is a really dangerous illness. At least not at this point. But she could tell you what he likes to eat when he’s sick and everything.”

*******************************

Jack let himself into the Haus, glad that he had never turned in his key, and made his way to Bitty’s bedroom as quietly as he could. He opened the door and peeked in, only to see Bitty’s head pop out of the nest of blankets on his bed like a meercat.

“Jack!’ he said, his voice now a raspy whisper. “I told you I didn’t want to get you sick!”

“I’ll take my chances, bud,” Jack said. “You’re sick. I brought you some soup.”

He saw two bottles of Gatorade next to Bitty’s bed, along with a bottle of ibuprofen and prescription bottle.

“I see you’re keeping hydrated,” he said. “That’s good. Have you eaten anything today?”

“I had some toast earlier, but I couldn’t keep it down,” Bitty said. “I mean it, stay away. I’m all gross and covered with germs.”

Jack sat at the end of the bed anyway, taking in Bitty’s greasy hair and the sweat-sheen on his face..

“How about you eat some soup and see how it goes?” he said. “Maybe take a shower if you’re up to it? That might make you feel better.”

Jack opened the soup carton and handed it over with the plastic spoon.

After the first couple of bites, Bitty’s voice was stronger. “Don’t think you’re staying here,” he said. “I see your bag, but you can’t share a twin bed with me, and I will not have you stay on the couch.”

“Then come back with me,” Jack said. “I can stay in the guest room.”

“Jack!” Bitty paused to cough, and yeah, that didn’t sound good. “I won’t put you out of your bed.”

“Then you can stay in the guest room,” Jack said reasonably. “But if you’re sick, you should be where someone can take care of you. I can get Carrie or Gabby to look in on you when I have to be away more than a couple of hours.”

“I’m not that sick!”

“Sick enough to miss a game this weekend, and a week of classes,” Jack said. “And I really don’t want to be on an air mattress for a week. I suppose I could call your mom ..”

“Jack Zimmermann!” Bitty had to cough again, “I will not have you worrying my mother!”

“Then I guess you’ll tell me which books and notebooks you need,” Jack said, already putting Bitty’s laptop and charger into his bookbag. “Do you need anything else besides Señor Bun? I think you have enough clothes in Providence.”

“Fine,” Bitty said. “I need my medicine.”

“Got it,” Jack said. “Ready for a shower? I’ll wait in the bathroom to make sure you’re alright.”

“And I should text Ford and the guys – and the coaches – to let then know,”

“I’ll do that while you’re showering,” Jack said. “Then we can go home.”

Bitty closed his eyes briefly before opening them and pushing the blankets away.

“That sounds good,” he said. “Thanks. Let’s get going so we can go home.”

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kyolosa-blog · 7 years ago

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killing-hannibals-body · 3 years ago

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Nah nah nah nah this ain’t it.

As someone who has worked in a pharmacy for over 7 years…pharmacists know what the fuck they’re doing.

You wanna talk antibiotic resistance? Talk about it to the hundreds of antibiotics written for viruses that I’ve seen (yes, I understand that with certain viruses you’re risking bacterial pneumonia etc etc but that’s not the point). Amoxicillin with tamiflu? Check.

GPs cause antibiotic resistance. I’ve seen doctors write prescriptions for z-paks with a years worth of refills on them (for clarification, z-paks are a pack of azithromycin already packaged with the appropriate amount of titration over a 5 day period. Azithromycin is an antibiotic). So any time a patient thinks they’re sick, they can refill their antibiotic without any sort of confirmation that this is a bacterial infection vs a virus or allergies. They think that they’re doing the patient a favor (short term, sure). But overall? They’re doing a disservice to the community. And as someone who has been infected with MRSA, fuck the drs and patients that don’t take antibiotic resistance seriously.

Talk to me about all of the prescriptions written for ivermectin by doctors for Covid that my pharmacists had to deny because, uh, we all know that was bullshit. And how many hours of verbal abuse pharmacists got for refusing to dispense it for Covid.

Talk to me about how I know a pharmacist that saved a patient’s life because his piece of shit GP kept prescribing him tramadol even though he was clearly addicted and almost overdosed but didn’t because my pharmacist called him when he saw that he wanted a refill of his prescription only 5 days after getting over 500 tablets of tramadol. Dude’s dr didn’t give a SHIT. But my pharmacist was so concerned, he spent over an hour on the phone trying to convince the guy there was a better way to live.

Even as a measly pharmacy tech, I caught hundreds of errors on prescriptions from doctors, lots of them antibiotic related, over the years.

You wanna know how often doctors just say, “fuck it” and let the pharmacist do all of the work when it comes to antibiotics? Happens all of the time.

Who were at the front lines during the rollout of Covid vaccines? Definitely not doctors. But nurses and volunteers and PHARMACISTS and pharmacy techs like me were putting their lives on the line to vaccinate hundreds of patients a day.

Doctors take a few courses in pharmacology. Pharmacists are literally doctors in the category. As someone who has worked in the field for over 7+ years…

I’d pick a pharmacist over a doctor to prescribe me medications any day. Pharmacists and pharmacy staff save people from doctors’ fuck ups every day, and yet pharmacy is the ugly step child of healthcare.

Antibiotic resistance in bacteria is one of the biggest threats facing us over the next 50-100 years. Antibiotics are honestly one of the biggest things that have improved life expectancy and reduced child mortality over the last 70 years or so. The less effective they become, the more we are screwed, especially but not only the immunocompromised.

If everyone can get antibiotics every time they have a cold without going to see a GP, this has potentially disastrous consequences.

In general, I’m very much against gatekeeping things, but antibiotics are precious.

If, instead, we improved GP working conditions, funded the building of more GP practices, supported junior doctors more so they could actually last long enough to become GPs, this would be a non-issue.

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hangonimevolving · 7 years ago

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Attempting some gratitude, for once.

I need to post this, before the thought and the mood from which it’s sprung both dissipate into thin air.

I suck at gratitude, on the whole. Seriously, I do, and I know I need to work on that. I’ll spare everyone my sob stories, explanations, justifications, etc. for why I have had a hard time with gratitude in recent years, but suffice to say - I am aware that I suck at it, and I heard somewhere that the first step to solving a problem is admitting you have one.... so fine. I admit it. I’m ungrateful and unappreciative in my life most days.

But today, I’ve had multiple - MULTIPLE - moments of just feeling this weird, inexplicable, warm and fuzzy, happy, sigh-inducing THING just bubble up in me. And I was like WTF is this feeling?! Why is my tummy all glittery and light? Why am I sitting here on the sofa smiling for no damn reason?! OHHHHH! Wait! Is this.....gratitude?! HOLY SHIT, I think it is! So I’m gonna write it down and note it for all posterity. I, Evolver, have felt gratitude on this 7th day of September, 2018.

It all started last Saturday night, where, right in the middle of Labor Day weekend and my sister Rithers’ visit to our hike in Miami along with her hubby, Uncle K, and her kids H20 and NiNi, our 5.5-year old Vevvy fell ill. We thought that perhaps he was just overly exhausted from a long and happy day in the pool when he felt warm to the touch on Saturday night, but mid-day Sunday, during a beach excursion - Vev’s FAVORITE thing in the world, he completely fell apart, acting listless, fatigued, and not having fun at all. One look at him, standing statuesque on the beach, staring out to sea longingly while tears rolled down his cheeks, said it all: “what is going on?! I’m so confused, mommy! I’m in my favorite place in the world, and yet I feel so miserable! What is happening to me?!” A hand on his forehead revealed that he was burning up. Without a moment’s hesitation, Dr. Spouse loaded him up in the car and headed for home, while I remained at the beach with Dey to host Rithers and co. a while longer. Poor Vev needed a shower, some kiddie Tylenol, and bed rest, stat.

the “I am siiiiick” face :(

Over the next seven - SEVEN! - days, Vev would continue to have relentless fevers or 101-103F even with continuous children’s Tylenol and Motrin. He also developed monster congestion in his sinuses and nose, headaches, body ache, and general fatigue. I was sincerely shocked and more than a little intimidated by his congestion snot (keeping it real), which was so thick and oppressive, it would choke his throat and inhibit his from breathing if he dared to rest in even a semi-reclining position.

The poor kid had no choice but to be completely upright if he didn’t want to gag on his own phlegm, which meant that he (and by transitive property, I) could really sleep no more than 90 minutes at a stretch for four nights straight. He was miserable, and I was doing everything I could to help him, staying with him each night either on an air mattress in my bedroom, or just holding him against my shoulder/chest in my bed while he desperately tried to sleep and breathe at the same time. I felt awful for him, and mused for a moment about parents whose children have respiratory disorders like CF who live their lives this way.... good health is such a blessing that we all take for granted.

As much as I hated every minute of Vev’s suffering, there was something a bit nostalgic in holding him sleeping in my arms for several consecutive nights. Wasn’t there a time in the not-so-distant past where this was the ONLY way he’d sleep?! I bitch and moan all the time about how clingy, dependent, and non-self reliant my kids are — but it has been years since Vev needed me at night this way. My Vevvy has grown up a lot.

And to his credit, despite all this sicky misery, he was really a trooper while ill. Against his traditional character, when sick or not, he really didn’t complain much - just went quiet and kept to himself for days, forming a little nest on the sofa each day with a warm blankie, big box of Kleenex, and his iPad, not really asking for much at all except quiet and rest. He never really complained when I had to give him medication, and he did his best to heed my urges to drink clear fluids even when I could tell he really didn’t want to. And - forgive the TMI here - but you know your kid is really growing up when they begin to have some way of forewarning you and/or running to the bathroom on their own steam and hitting the preferred target of the toilet when they’ve gotta vomit. Fortunately, Vev only puked twice this week, and I suspect that too was only bc he gagged on his own copious snot — but both times, he announced “throwwww uuuup!” to me before sprinting to the loo and handling affairs with no mess and accurate aim. HALLELUJAH! This should be considered a major developmental milestone!!! (And yes - poor, poor kid! I really am glad it was only the twice, because that must have sucked a lot for him!)

Yeah, so. He’s growing up. Way to go, buddy!!!... and, sniff.

(supposedly this says “Mommy I love you ”... but he always starts writing at the bottom of a page and works his way up. He may also be of the mind that “Mommy” is spelled “mom-E.” Yes, we’re gonna work on it)

It was only yesterday, Thursday, that we got an official pediatrician diagnosis of his illness: the flu, as in the legit flu virus, or Influenza A. The word came too late for antiviral medications to be of any great use to him, unfortunately, but I was grateful anyway that we got a halfway-decent pediatrician BRILLIANT nurse practitioner who needed my assertive request demand for a prophylactic prescription or Tamiflu for Dey. We’ve had shitty luck in South Florida with pediatricians who appear to be reactionary and unnecessarily nonsensical in their responses to my requests for help - but this time, our pedi NP was A+. She treated our family like competent, educated people and did things that made sense as far as ensuring this highly-contagious virus wouldn’t spread to another healthy child living in the same household. I wish she could be our regular PCP (but of course, I bet she can’t be, bc she’s not a doctor. Grr, fucking managed care. Oops, hold it - I’m supposed to be channeling gratitude here, not my customary bitchiness. My bad.)

Anyway, speaking of Dey, I’ve got to brag about him a bit here too. At 3.5 years old, Dey’s baseline is definitely chill, go-with-the-flow, glass-half-full, and a pleasant, happy and easygoing “whatever you want, dude!”-ness that Vev NEVER was at that age. It’s been really awesome to see. But this week, his general outlook on life, combined with impressive moments of being a team player, cooperating, helping out, and exhibiting formidable empathy really made me sooo proud.

It’s certainly understandable that he’d be potentially jealous that his older brother got to skip an entire week of school while he still had to go. It would be even more understandable since they are actual CLASSMATES at school this year (yes, our Montessori school groups ages 4-6/preschool, pre-K and kindergarten in one classroom, so they’ve been together at school and at home since the start of the academic year). So I was very impressed when Dey accepted his brother’s illness and his need to stay home from school, while he was forced to go. Without one word of complaint, he’d get up each morning, eat his breakfast, get washed up and dressed out in uniform, gather his things, then visit Vev quickly and dispense a goodbye hug and a “hope you feel better, Vev!” before loading up in the car for school drop-off. What a trooper. At afternoon pick-up, when I’d ask about his day at school, he’d say with a little frown, “oh, school was okay...but Vev wasn’t on the playground.” It was kinda weird feeling my heart simultaneously break a little, but also burst with pride at how much he loves his brother. Sweet kiddo.

At home, each afternoon he’d run excitedly to Vev to see how he was doing, his face full of hopeful anticipation that perhaps today, Vev was feeling better and could play with him... but when he’d find Vev too miserable and tired to play, his face would momentarily fall in disappointment, but then he would muster some compassion and understanding, silently shuffle away, and find a quiet game to do in the vicinity, just so he could be nearby without disturbing Vev. Or, cuter still, he’d snuggle down on the opposite side of the couch as Vev, and tune his iPad into the same YouTube video Vev would be watching, so they could give each other silly smiles and glances during the funny parts. The boy would periodically race off in the house to find his toy doctor kit, and would affix his little plastic stethoscope to his ears so he could “give Vev a checkup” and “make him feel better.”

(Dr. Cutie Pie is in)

It was adorable, man. His whole world spins because of his brother. It’s so touching. I don’t know how it is that I managed to have two kids who love each other so much, because karmically I’ve done NOTHING to earn this. My sister and I were rotten to each other as kids, and only really turned a corner on it in our... what, our late 30′s?! Haha :) But I’m so grateful for these two dudes. These two little people are the best of friends, and they can’t live without each other. The feels.

One more funny brag about Dey. Dr. Spouse and I often jokingly refer to him as Dory, i.e. the lovable blue fish, voiced by Ellen DeGeneres from the Disney movie “Finding Nemo.” Dory’s schtick is that she’s easily distracted and has short-term memory.

Fittingly, Dory is one of Dey’s favorite cartoon characters, and he’s not shy to let the world know....

youtube

Anyway. Remember that whole prophylactic script for Tamiflu? Mind you, I was so grateful to get it. But. Ummmm, pediatric Tamiflu tastes FOUL. It is seriously the most bitter, disgusting, viscous goo I’ve ever gingerly licked to mentally prepare myself for my kid’s reaction to. I began fearing Dey’s reaction, and the ensuing tantrums to come over the five-day course of the drug. But I spoke matter-of-fairly to Dey about how this was a medicine he’d need to take to keep himself healthy, and that it would be a little bit yucky, but that I’d give him a HUGE spoonful of sugar right after to make it taste better (and THANK YOU, blessed Mary Poppins, for your genius).

Luckily, little Dory just took my words at face value without any further thought, opened his mouth, and downed the nasty shot of devil’s semen Tamiflu that I dispensed into his mouth. Immediately his face went every shade of red, purple, and white, with a coordinating expression like “what the hell is this shit?!” — but I swooped in there prepared, like a crack-smoking Mother of Batman, giving him a swig of water then heaping a MASSIVE spoon of white sugar directly onto his tongue. The result was nothing short of magical - the kid instantaneously closed his eyes in pleasure, turned up his cute little round cheeks to the ceiling with a huge smile on his face, and loudly cooed “Mmmm!” as if it was the best damn thing he’d ever eaten in his life. Moments later, the sugar fully dissolved, Dey matter-of-fairly reminisced with a RainMan-esque tone, “hey mommy, that medicine was kind of yucky for me. Kind of salty. Kind of spicy. But the SUGAR WAS YUUUUUUMMMMMY!” I worried that at the next dosing (and man, the kid’s gotta take it morning and night, poor little dude) he’d run screaming from the salty spicy medicine, and wouldn’t fall for the sugar trick — but amazingly, when I announced “medicine and sugar time,” the child came RUNNING to me with a huge grin on his face like he’d just won the lottery. He gulped down the medicine like a champ, swigged the water himself, then began changing “Su-gar! Su-gar! Su-gar!” till I ladled a bit into his mouth. Naturally, my mind spun forward a bit, concerned that his ease of overcoming the Yucky Taste Barrier and downing this stuff for a cheap reward might translate into some unsavory teenage and young adult behaviors (err, tequila shot champion in the making?! Please god, help us). But, for now - eternally grateful for my little Dory’s easy distractability and forgiving memory!!! Vev, at that age and even now, would have NEVER gone along with this!

(is it just me, or do they even kinda sorta look alike, Dory and Dey? No one else sees it?! No one?!!! Hmm...)

Anyway. In conclusion, it’s not normal for me to have something kind of bad happen, like the flu hitting one of my kids, but finding some good in the mess. But here I am, in spite of myself, awash in all the warm fuzzies.

1. I’ve got two healthy, happy kids, when many people have children with serious health issues and have to live their lives watching their kids sick and miserable all the time

2. my kids are growing up, becoming wonderfully independent, self-reliant, empathetic and helpful. But they still sometimes need me, and that’s nice too.

3. They both have such fun, distinct personalities.

4. I admit that it’s pretty awesome that my second kid is so chill. Love them both to bits, but if kid #2 has been more ornery and neurotic, I think that would have sucked. Having a chill kid #2 is a godsend.

5. They frigging LOVE EACH OTHER. It’s a goddamn brotherly love fest up in here.

6. Last but not least - the flu sucks, but it isn’t forever, and life will go on. Soon, in fact. And we’ll be onto the next adventure together. Look forward to seeing what it’ll be!

#Vev #Dey #parenthood #influenza #flu #brotherlylove

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genrxonline · 5 years ago

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How does Tamiflu work as the best Virus Drug?

When it comes to influenza infection there are chances that the doctor will prescribe the Tamiflu. This is an antiviral medication. This medicine is a neuraminidase inhibitor and it can act on both Type A and B strains of the Flu.

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Tamiflu is mainly used in the treatment of the symptoms that are caused by flu. It will make symptoms like stuffy nose, cough, fever, and chills less severe. This medicine also helps in reducing the recovery time by 1 or 2 days.

Sometimes the doctor may also prescribe the medicine to prevent flu if a person is exposed to someone who is already suffering from flu. Overall, we can say that Tamiflu is useful in reducing the symptoms of influenza. Whether it is the best antiviral medicine that only the doctor can decide.

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searchingwardrobes · 7 years ago

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Happy Valentine’s Day, @lassluna! I’m your cssv! It’s been great getting to know you these past few weeks. I hope this little gift lightens the load of your studies. You said you liked modern aus, friends to lovers, and angst. I hope this delivers. I’m not one hundred percent thrilled with the ending, but I wanted you to get this on v-day. Hope you like it anyways!

Title: Calling in Sick

Rating: G

Words: 7,00+

An irritating boss, a bikini, and Emma faking an illness. That’s what Killian Jones says brought them together. Emma Swan says he’s overplaying the bikini and downplaying the flu and fever-induced delirium.

Maybe we should go back to the beginning of the story . . .

A flu epidemic had hit New York, the entire US actually, and maybe beyond. But Emma Swan’s had the flu shot. Regina Mills, her boss, doesn’t know that, however. So Emma’s got a plane ticket for a long weekend in Bermuda. Just the thing she needs to escape from the bitter cold, her infuriating boss, and the sneezing, snotting masses on the subway.

Emma grins as she packs her suitcase, humming under her breath as she glances at the clock. It’s 9 am, which means Regina is most likely already on the rampage about something, stalking around the office in her sensible pantsuit with a murderous scowl on her face. Emma is already glad she’s called in “sick,” and she hasn’t even headed to the airport yet. Just as she grabs the brand new, bright red string bikini she just bought from her bureau drawer, she hears a loud knock at her door. She frowns as she walks out of her bedroom and down the hall. Security in her building is tight, and the doorman hadn’t buzzed her about a visitor. There are only two people Marco would just let upstairs to her apartment. Either Mary Margaret or –

“Killian?” Emma frowns in irritation as she leans against the door jamb.

She realizes the bikini is still dangling from her right hand and quickly balls it up in her fist, which she then tucks into her side. Killian doesn’t even seem to notice, however, which should have been her first clue that he wasn’t himself. He is a master flirt, able to turn almost anything into an innuendo. It was why she had hated him at first, until she saw that the cocky, bad boy persona was nothing more than that – a persona. Just like her prickly, screw the world attitude. In the end, they understood each other. Which switched Killian from the “work enemy” column to “work best friend” column. (“You mean your work crush,” corrects Mary Margaret’s voice in her head, but Emma silences it like she always does.)

“Why aren’t you at work?” Emma adds when all Killian does is stare at her with glassy eyes.

“On my way,” he croaks out in a scratchy voice, “but I had to stop by and confirm my suspicions. You, my darling, are clearly not sick.”

Emma huffs, blowing a wayward strand of hair out of her face, “Please, Killian, like you didn’t call in sick after the World Cup last year because you were hung over. Just call it a mental health day. Believe me, it’s in Regina’s best interest.”

“Well, your mental health day is why I’m having to drag my sick arse to the office. Because we both called in, Regina thinks I’m faking.”

Killian, who is normally infinitely patient where Emma is concerned, sounds thoroughly pissed at her. Emma takes a minute to really look at him. His hair is messier than it normally is, and his blue dress shirt is slightly wrinkled, buttoned up wrong, and only half tucked in. Killian may go for “artfully disheveled,” but he’s never downright messy in his appearance. His eyes are also dulled rather than their normal bright blue, and his cheeks are flushed. When he sways slightly on his feet, Emma becomes truly alarmed. She goes to him immediately, ushering him into her apartment as she slings his left arm over her shoulder. He sags against her.

“That bitch,” she mutters as she maneuvers him onto the couch, “she said, what? Come in today or you’re fired?”

“Pretty much,” Killian answers as he pulls the afghan slung over the back of the couch over himself. He tries to chuckle, but his teeth are chattering too much.

Emma hurries to the bathroom for a thermometer. When she comes back, Killian has discovered the string bikini that she had tossed onto the coffee table when she brought him inside.

“I must say, Swan,” he teases as he dangles it from his fingertips, “I do wish I were faking sick. You were going to don this on your getaway without me there to enjoy it?”

Emma rolls her eyes as she snatches it out of his grip. At least he’s well enough to waggle those eyebrows of his. She silences any further innuendos by shoving the thermometer under his tongue, but even with the instrument in his mouth, he grins at her salaciously. This is their thing. He flirts audaciously, she purposefully ignores him. Sometimes she tosses him a biting retort. And for some reason, it works.

“Killian Jones!” she exclaims after the thermometer beeps its result, sounding far too much like Mary Margaret when she scolds David. “103.9! You should be at the hospital!”

Killian shakes his head as he pulls the blanket to his chin. “N-no w-way,” he stutters against his rattling teeth, “th-that place is a zoo right now.”

Emma frowns and swears some more under her breath as she pulls out her cell phone and dials the office. “I’m giving that woman a piece of my mind,” she mutters, tapping her fingers impatiently against her thigh as Regina’s cell rings. “Does she live under a rock? There’s a flu epidemic for God’s – “ Emma is cut off when Regina answers in her typically half-irritated voice.

“Regina,” she bites out, standing up and pacing with her free hand on her hip, “listen, I don’t know what the crap you’re thinking demanding that Killian come in today. He’s got a fever of almost 104, and he can barely walk. It’s obvious he has the flu.”

“And yet the two of you are together,” Regina snaps back. Emma can almost feel her smug grin through the phone. “Just as I suspected. And you sound rather hearty and healthy to me, Ms. Swan.”

“We ran into each other at the doctor’s office for your information,” Emma seethes. She catches Killian’s eye, and he arches both eyebrows, clearly impressed at her smooth lie.

“Fine, Ms. Swan, but I expect a doctor’s note.” And with that, Regina abruptly hangs up.

“Crap,” Emma mutters as she tosses her cell onto the coffee table in irritation.

“What is it?” Kilian asks, his brow furrowing in concern. He starts to try and sit up, which requires way more energy than it ought to.

“Oh no you don’t,” Emma reprimands him quickly, sitting down next to him and grabbing hold of his knee before he can stand. “She just wants a doctor’s note, that’s all.”

Killian whimpers and frowns like a puppy. “I don’t want to go to the doctor either.”

Emma laughs lightly, “Don’t worry, I’ve got something up my sleeve. Now let’s get you out of this shirt and jeans so you’re more comfortable.”

Killian must be getting worse because the innuendo she was fully aware of walking into never comes. Instead, he silently lets her unbutton his shirt and ease his arms out. Emma goes to her bedroom to retrieve a t-shirt she had swiped from his place, and when she comes back he’s down to his boxer briefs and is easing his legs back under the afghan.

Emma helps him into the soft, cotton shirt, and he sighs as she props an extra pillow under his head. “Thank you,” he half-whispers, his eyes fluttering as he struggles to stay awake.

Emma shakes her head at him as she swipes his hair out of his eyes, “Why didn’t you get the flu shot like a sane person?”

“I meant to . . . just . . . ran out of time . . . “ Killian mumbles, voice trailing off as he drifts off to sleep.

Emma has to wake him up when Ruby gets there. Her friend is standing behind the couch where Killian can’t see her, and Emma shoots daggers at her as she mouths “Oh. My. God.”

“Killian,” Emma tells him as she shakes him gently by the shoulder, “my friend his here. She’s a doctor.”

Killian blinks rapidly, then groans as he sits up too fast, clutching his head as he flashes Ruby what would normally be a charming smile. “Apologies, lass. I don’t like meeting one of Emma’s friends in such poor condition.”

Ruby smiles coyly as she sits next to Killian on the couch. “Oh trust me, it won’t take much to impress me. Most of my patients require a lollypop and a sticker.”

Both of Killian’s eyebrows shoot up as he glances at Emma, who laughs. “Ruby’s a pediatrician.”

“But,” Ruby explains as she slips her thermometer in Killian’s mouth and a blood pressure cuff around his upper arm, “I can get you both doctor’s notes for the Evil Queen, no questions asked. And get you a prescription of Tamiflu.”

From her spot on the arm of the loveseat, Emma shrugs at Killian. “And she makes house calls.”

Ruby swabs Killian’s mouth so she can run the flu test. Fifteen minutes later, the test results are positive. She also finds that his blood pressure is low, which means he’s probably dehydrated, and his temperature has gone up to 104.3. It all concerns Emma greatly, even more so when Killian falls asleep before Emma’s even shown Ruby to the door. Not to mention that Ruby is extremely attractive and a major flirt, yet Killian didn’t hit on her once. At the door, Emma’s frowning deeply as Ruby gives her directions on giving him plenty of fluids and warns her that the Tamiflu and his fever might cause him to be a little loopy.

Emma nervously crosses her arms over her chest. “I won’t lie, Ruby I’m worried. I’ve never seen him like this. He’s obviously really sick.”

“I promise you, Emma, he’ll be okay. It’s not the worst I’ve seen, and he caught it early. The medicine will help.” Ruby tilts her head and narrows her eyes as she peruses Emma’s face. Then she leans forward and presses her hand to Emma’s forehead.

Emma leans away from her. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Making sure you’re not sick. Because I can’t understand how a healthy woman could be around a man – a single man – who is that hot on a regular basis and still have him firmly in the friend zone.”

Emma frowns and bats Ruby’s hand away. “Because I don’t make a habit of sleeping with guys I work with.”

Ruby arches one brow at her. “Not talking about just sleeping with him. Now that I’ve actually met him, it’s clear that Mary Margaret is right. You care about him.”

Emma rolls her eyes as she grabs Ruby by the shoulders and steers her through the front door. “Yeah, okay, because I want to make sure he doesn’t die on my couch. I must be madly in love.”

“You sure are protesting an awful lot,” Ruby shoots back.

“Goodbye, Ruby,” Emma tells her, shutting the door on her friend just as she goes to open her mouth again. Emma sags against the door for a moment before shaking off Ruby’s comments. She needs to get fluids in Killian and run to the pharmacy to fill his prescription.

And she also has to make a phone call to the airlines about the trip to Bermuda that she won’t be taking.

*******************************************************

The rest of the day goes by in a blur. She gets Killian to take his medicine, but getting him to take any fluids proves much more difficult. All he wants to do is sleep. At lunch time, she brings him some chicken broth, but he shakes his head. When he does, she notices that his hair is soaked and plastered to his forehead. When she checks his temperature again, it’s 104.5.

“I’m freaking out here,” she tells Ruby when she calls her friend in a panic. “Are you sure I shouldn’t take him to the hospital?”

“I’m sure. The ER is insane right now anyway. He won’t be priority, and he’ll sit there miserable for hours.”

Emma’s brow creases with worry as she shifts the phone to her other ear. Even though he’s sleeping, Emma turns her body away from Killian and whispers her next words into her cell. “But aren’t people . . .dying of this?”

“That’s mostly the elderly and very young children,” Ruby quickly assures her, “Killian is a strong, healthy man in his thirties.” Despite Ruby’s words, news stories Emma has seen swim before her mind. One about a seemingly healthy fifteen year old and another about a 28 year old mother of two. As if she can read Emma’s mind, Ruby continues, “Or they are people who waited too long to go to the doctor or they refused medication. I promise you, he’s going to be fine.”

Emma lets out a shaky breath. “There isn’t anything more I can do?”

“A cool sponge bath could help with the fever –“

Emma groans as she interrupts her friend. “Ruby! I’m being serious!”

“So am I! Geez, Emma! If you’re so uncomfortable with his masculinity, just bathe his face and neck. Of course there’s nothing I can do to protect you from his pretty face . . .”

“Hanging up now, Rubes!” Emma tells her as she pulls the phone away from her ear. Even then, she can hear her friend’s laughter before she ends the call.

Emma squares her shoulders and goes to wet a washcloth in the bathroom. When she returns to the couch, she reminds herself of all the times Killian has put her to bed when she’s had too much to drink. Of all the times she’s nabbed one of his t-shirts and then curled up next to him on the couch to watch Netflix. All of that was completely platonic.

And so is this, she reminds herself as she settles Killian’s head in her lap. He lets out a long, shuddering breath as she brushes back his sweaty bangs. Then she runs the cool cloth along his forehead, trying not to be alarmed at the heat pulsing from his skin.

“Are we on the beach?” he mutters.

Emma laughs, “No, Killian. We’re in my apartment. And it’s winter.”

“But I thought you were wearing a red bikini.”

She bites her lower lip, “No, Killian.”

“Oh. Must be dreaming then. I have lots of dreams about you.”

Emma shakes her head, smiling at his delirium. She isn’t sure if it’s the medicine or the fever, and she wonders what will come out of his mouth next.

“Because I love you, you know. I dream about you because I love you.”

Emma’s hand freezes where it was running the washcloth along his jaw. She forces a nervous laugh past her lips. “You’re delirious, Jones.”

His eyes flutter open, and even though he’s clearly struggling to focus his gaze on her face, the blue of his eyes holds an intensity that arrests her. “I’m not. It’s true. I love you, Emma. I have since that very first day.”

His voice is strong until the last few words, and then he sags a bit against her, as if speaking has drained him of all his energy. Yet he continues talking, his words slurring and dragging as he fights sleep. “But you had such high walls . . . took . . . my time . . . and now we’re friends . . . don’t want to . . . mess that up . . . “

Emma keeps bathing his face for a moment, staring at the familiar ginger sprinkled amidst his dark scruff, the tiny scar beneath his right eye, the unfairly long lashes fluttering against his skin. Skin that feels a little less heated than it had before, so Emma eases Killian off her lap, and rises on shaking legs. She paces to the window, gazing out at the dreary, gray January day. She rubs at her throat as Killian’s words play on a loop in her mind. “I love you, you know. . . It’s true. I love you, Emma.” And it is true, she knows this. She could see it so clearly in his eyes. Maybe she knew before, if she were honest, but it had been easy to pretend that those feelings weren’t there. That he was just her friend and nothing more. But now the words have been released and there’s no going back.

Emma contemplates continuing on as before, pretending nothing has happened. He probably won’t remember any of this tomorrow, anyway. Emma paces some more, gnawing at her bottom lip. The thing is, she will still know. And what makes it worse is that his declaration, whether he will remember it later or not, has made something else startlingly clear.

She loves him, too.

Everyone has tried to tell her. Mary Margaret. Elsa. Ruby just now. Even their boss, Regina Mills, albeit through snarky, thinly veiled comments. Yet she’s always protested, scoffed, rolled her eyes, insisted they were just friends. But now? Now she has to lie to herself, too. And to him.

Emma lifts shaky hands and rubs them down her face. She stares outside and watches the gray clouds turn to mist. There’s only one thing she can do. It will hurt like hell, but they’ll both eventually move on. It’s the only way. She squares her shoulders as she goes to the laundry room to toss the washcloth in the machine.

Emma purposefully avoids looking at Killian. He looks so vulnerable when he’s asleep, and her heart has to remain steeled.

*******************************************************

The remainder of that evening is difficult, considering she still has to make sure Killian takes his medicine, drinks his fluids, and keeps his fever down. As that last happens, his delirium lessens and his eyes get back to their lively sparkle. He only says one more thing to her in his stupefied state, mumbling that she’s “so beautiful” as she checks his temperature.

The next morning, he’s still sick, but much better. He insists on taking a cab back to his own apartment, and Emma tries to hide how relieved she is at that decision. Normally, she probably would have protested and joined him on the couch for some TV binge-watching, but she knows she can’t handle that kind of casual intimacy. Not anymore. So she gathers up his medicine, relays Ruby’s instructions, and walks him to the door. He says, “goodbye, see you at work in a few days,” casually, with a backwards wave of his hand. Emma responds in kind and hates herself for it, feeling like it’s a lie.

It’s a week before Killian is fully recovered and able to return to work. Regina was apparently ripped to shreds by corporate for endangering the office by insisting sick employees come to work, so Killian is actually told specifically to stay away for a full seven days to ensure he isn’t contagious. He starts to get stir crazy by day five, and starts texting Emma almost daily. Her responses are half-hearted, and she prays he doesn’t notice. He doesn’t seem to.

Which is probably why he’s so shocked when his first day back at work he finds Emma packing up her cubicle. He looks like a puppy again as he looks at her with a crestfallen expression.

“You’re leaving?”

“Yeah,” Emma says with false brightness as she weighs a half dead potted plant in her hand. She debates for a minute, then tosses it into the trash can. “Remember my college roommate, Elsa?”

Killian’s brow furrows as he leans against the partition between his work space and Emma’s. “Aye. The blonde interior designer?”

Emma nods as she sticks her pencil cup into her box of things and reaches for a framed photo of her and Mary Margaret. “Well, she’s been bugging me to partner with her in this new startup of hers, and well . . . I decided, why the hell not?”

Killian frowns for a moment, then puts on a bright smile. She knows him well enough to know that it’s forced. “That’s a great opportunity, Swan. You’ll be bloody brilliant. I have no doubt.”

Emma avoids his gaze as she finishes boxing up her things. She knows it’s cowardly to time her departure this way, on the very day he returns. But his clumsy declaration at her apartment has kept her up at night. She can’t do it, simple as that. It’s too scary. And neither can she try for some casual, physical thing. That ship has sailed; they’re already friends. It would go straight to serious.

And Emma Swan doesn’t do serious relationships.

***************************************************

Emma’s already in her pajamas, hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun, her face freshly scrubbed when a knock sounds at her door. She knows it could only be two people, and while she really hopes it’s Mary Margaret with a congratulatory bottle of wine to celebrate her new job, she sort of senses deep down that it will be him even before she opens the door.

“Killian,” she says with false brightness. His face is already intense, his jaw clenching and his eyes doing that thing where they gaze right through to her soul.

So it doesn’t surprise her when his words cut right to the heart of the matter. “I know why you’re doing this.”

Emma feigns ignorance, crossing her arms across her chest and narrowing her eyes. “Doing what?”

Killian dips his chin and raises both eyebrows in that look he gives her when she’s full of bull shit. “I was delirious, but not that delirious. I remember what I said.”

The color drains from Emma’s face as she processes what he’s saying. Her mouth falls open, but words fail her. Of course, Killian’s always had enough words for both of them anyway.

“And now you’re running,” he continues, “You’re scared, and I get it. But Emma, your friendship means too much to me. If you don’t feel the same, I won’t push it.”

Emma presses her lips together as she shakes her head. “It’s not that, Killian.”

It’s his turn to look confused. “What do you mean?”

Emma has always said that words aren’t her strong suit. And maybe she could claim that lack of words is what spurs her in that moment. But it’s really more that she can’t let it go without some memory to cling to. Or without at least knowing how he kisses.

So she grabs him and hauls him in, lips crashing together and teeth scraping. Killian is a quick study, pulling her close and pressing her flush against him. One hand toys with the hem of her shirt, his fingers barely brushing against bare skin. His other hand tangles in her hair, yanking on the rubber band that holds it up so it goes tumbling down her back. Emma’s fingers are threading through his hair, too, but it’s the familiar feel of that softness that yanks her back to reality. She pulls away, breathless. Killian tries to chase her lips.

“That was –“

“A one-time thing,” she cuts him off.

She doesn’t even give him a chance to respond before turning around and shutting the door. Later, he texts her, but she never answers. It says only one line:

That was goodbye, wasn’t it?

*************************************************

The next morning, Emma’s trying to concentrate on Elsa’s tour of the office. Trying in vain to stop replaying the kiss from the night before on loop in her brain. Suddenly, they’ve completed the tour, ending up back in Emma’s office, and Elsa’s standing there with an expectant look on her face.

“I’m sorry, what was the question?”

Elsa laughs in that soft way of hers. “I was asking who the flowers were from.”

Emma shakes her head and blinks in surprise at the arrangement of yellow daisies at her desk. She knows before she even opens the card who they’re from. She told Killian once that people ought to give yellow daisies in the winter because they were like little bursts of sunshine. Then she had rolled her eyes at herself for sounding like Mary Margaret.

Sure enough, the card is in his flowery script. “Good luck on your first day, though I doubt you will need it. I also want to let you know that I’m not going anywhere. When you want me, I’ll be here. Love, Killian.”

Emma can’t help the smile that tugs at the corner of her mouth nor can she resist the urge to press the card to her lips. She forgets Elsa’s even there and startles when her friend speaks again.

“What happened, Emma?”

“What are you talking about?” Emma slips the card into the top drawer of her brand new empty desk, hoping Elsa doesn’t notice that her hands are shaking.

“With Killian,” Elsa clarifies gently as she leans against Emma’s desk.

Emma groans and rubs at her temple as she collapses into her desk chair. “How did you know?”

Elsa gives her a pointed look. “I know you took care of him when he had the flu, cancelling that trip to Bermuda that you had been going on and on about –“

“Postponed,” Emma corrects with a roll of her eyes, “I postponed my trip.”

“Whatever,” Elsa dismisses with a wave of her hand, “and I’ve been begging you to partner with me in my company for how long? Then suddenly, you’re quitting your job in less than a week? Come on, what happened when Killian got the flu?”

Emma slumps further in her chair, swiveling it back and forth with her toe. “Please, can we not talk about this?”

“Okay,” Elsa concedes, pushing away from Emma’s desk. Before walking out the door, she tilts her head towards the flowers. “Those are from him, aren’t they?”

“Of course they are.”

********************************************************

The gentle knock on Emma’s front door sounds more like a pounding. She groans and throws the afghan over her head. She gropes for the remote with one hand and turns up the volume on the TV to drown out whoever is at her door. Of course, it can only be two people . . .

“Swan!”

Emma groans again, covering her face with both hands.

“Emma, love, Mary Margaret and Elsa both called me. I know you’re sick. And I’ve never done this before, but I think this constitutes as an emergency, so . . . I’m coming in.”

Emma hears the rattling of keys in the lock and rolls her eyes. She flings the afghan off her head with a huff, her hair going wild with static electricity and clinging to her sweaty forehead. Killian merely raises his eyebrows and pushes back an amused grin when he finds her that way, glaring at him when he walks through the door.

“Why are you here?” she snaps as he stops directly in front of the couch. “And you’re blocking my view of the TV. Lorelei and Luke are bantering over coffee again.”

Killian just stands there with his arms crossed over his chest, looking down his nose at her. “A lady calls in need of assistance, and I’m there.”

“I didn’t call you.”

“Your friends did.”

“They shouldn’t have.”

“But they did.”

Emma lets out a long sigh punctuated by an eye roll. “I had the flu shot, Killian. So unlike some people I know, I’m not on death’s door.”

“Mhm,” Killian mutters, practically ignoring her as he heads to the kitchen, “but I know you, Swan. What have you eaten today?”

“I nibbled a pop tart,” Emma replies as she plops back down on her pillow.

“Precisely. Let me make you some decent food. Surely you’ve got a can of soup around here somewhere . . . “

He brings her a mug of chicken noodle just as the episode she’s watching rolls credits. She has to admit the warmth of it in her hands and the steam rising to her nostrils is comforting. Killian leans over and puts the back of his hand to her forehead, and the contact of his skin makes her shiver involuntarily. He frowns.

“You’re running a fever, aren’t you?”

Emma shifts uncomfortably as she sips at her soup. “Yeah, but it’s low. 101.3. Like I said, I’m not dying.”

He pats her leg, and even through the afghan is across her lap, it causes awareness to prickle along her nerve endings. “Well, it’s still nice to be taken care off.”

She smiles at him over the rim of her cup. She’s told him about her childhood, and he’s shared about his. They both get it. So she nods her assent, and he grins. “But what about work?”

His grin broadens. “No more Evil Queen for me. You inspired me, Emma. You are looking at a private CPA who works from home and sets his own hours.”

Emma beams back at him. “That’s awesome, Killian! I’m so happy for you!”

He shrugs and waves off her compliment. “I just got to thinking about it, you know? I was miserable at that job, just the same as you were. And I realized I had all these friends with small businesses. My friend Ariel with that tourist shop of hers, her husband Eric’s fish market, Jasmine’s jewelry boutique. They’ve all struggled keeping their books, so . . . “

“You already have all three of those accounts?”

Killian scratches behind his ear, bashful from her praise, “Those three and four more based on their references.”

Emma reaches for his hand as she tells him how proud she is, and for the first time in two weeks, it doesn’t feel awkward.

The rest of the day is the same way. Killian refills her cup, making sure she drinks enough, and makes her more soup. He checks her temperature and brings her extra pillows.

“Grab my husband pillow from the corner of my room,” she tells him at one point.

“Why do women call these things husband pillows?” he asks as he slides it behind her back.

“You know,” Emma explains, patting the tall back of the pillow and the two arms that extend out at each side, “instead of a husband’s chest and arms, you lean against this pillow.”

Killian waggles his eyebrows at her as he pats at the spot near his heart. “I have a perfectly fine chest if you want it, Swan.”

She rolls her eyes, happy to once again be in that sweet place where they can tease and flirt. But just as soon as that happy, comfortable feeling flares within her, something else takes its place. She imagines him in her bed, his arms around her, her cheek against his chest. She bites her lip and glances away from him, cursing the blush that stains her cheeks.

“Um,” he says, awkwardly clearing his throat, “can I get you anything else?”

Emma swallows the lump in her throat, hating that he can sense the tension in her. “Uh, no, I’m fine.”

By that evening, Emma is already feeling better and her fever is completely gone. She tosses aside the afghan and moves to stand up. Before she can, Killian is at her side.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“I feel much better, so I’m going to take a shower.”

“No, absolutely not, Swan. I’ll draw you a bath.”

Emma starts to protest, but Killian’s already in the bathroom, and she can hear the water going. She sags against the couch in defeat. She has to admit, the thought of standing up long enough to take a shower sounds exhausting.

When the tub is ready, Emma enters the bathroom to find a towel, a bathrobe, and a fresh pair of pajamas stacked next to the sink. She strips down and lets out a long, deep, contented sigh as she slips into the warm water. It feels heavenly. She runs the soap over her body, washing away the grime from her sweaty fever. Then she sinks down to her chin, just enjoying the feel of the warm water as it eases away the achiness that has consumed her entire body.

But the longer she lays there, the more conscious she is of Killian in the other room. Is he thinking of her as much as she’s thinking of him? Is he thinking of her in the next room, nude? Because her mind is definitely going places that are far from platonic.

Emma rubs her hands down her face in weariness, then eases herself out of the tub. She towels off and changes, once again touched by his thoughtfulness. She exits the bathroom in her bare feet, shivering even though she’s in both flannel pjs and a terry cloth robe. She sinks onto the couch next to Killian, who’s flipped the TV to a hockey game.

“Emma?” he says with concern as he brushes a finger over her cheek, “Are you okay? You look flushed again.”

Wordlessly, Emma curls herself into a ball and tucks herself into his side. His arm comes around her and pulls her closer against him. They’ve cuddled like this dozens of times as just friends, but now it feels different.

“I think you have a fever again,” he whispers against her hair. She’s pretty sure she does, too, considering the way she’s shaking. Or is it fear?

Killian gets her to take some ibuprofen, then obeys without protest when she asks him to hold her while they watch a movie. She falls asleep against his chest long before it ends, but she wakes up when he stands and scoops her up into his arms. She pretends to sleep so she can nuzzle against his neck as he carries her to her room. She imagines him sharing her bed for the second time in less than eight hours, but not in that way. She imagines falling asleep with him beside her, of waking up to his heartbeat against her cheek. She imagines the rise and fall of his chest against her back as she drifts off.

He tucks the blankets around her, squeezing her hand in his before turning away. Part of her wants to tug him down to her, just like their kiss, all heat and pent up desire. But she knows deep down it isn’t what she wants. So instead, she gently laces her fingers with his. The movement startles him – clearly he thought she was still asleep – and he pauses.

“I ran because I do love you,” she confesses in the dark.

“I know.”

That’s all he says before leaning down to brush a feather-light kiss across her forehead. Most men would take advantage of the situation. Neal certainly would have. But Killian doesn’t. He leaves on soft footfalls, closes her door gently, and lets himself out.

*******************************************************

Emma calls in sick the next day, too. She doesn’t have a fever or any other symptoms, but she still feels like she just got run over by a truck. And her bed is the only place she wants to spend the day.

But by that afternoon, boredom has set in as her energy slowly returns. She’s mindlessly scrolling through Netflix, trying to find something that appeals to her when there’s a knock at her door. She knows who it is this time. Only Mary Margaret can make a knock sound perky.

“Come in,” Emma calls, voice flat.

Mary Margaret turns her key in the lock and then comes bustling in, all smiles with a plate in her hands covered with aluminum foil. She tells Emma they are fresh baked cookies. She chatters away about her day as she tidies the room. Emma clicks off the TV, finding her friend’s voice more relaxing.

“ . . . and so, while I adore Valentine’s day, I’m positively exhausted. Third graders plus tons of sugar is just chaos.” Mary Margaret ends her enthusiastic speech with a dramatic plop to Emma’s love seat.

Emma frowns in confusion. “Today is Valentine’s Day?”

As if fate wants to confirm it, there’s another knock on her door followed by Marco the doorman’s voice, “Ms. Swan, I have some flowers that were delivered for you.”

Before Emma can even process this, Mary Margaret is jumping from the loveseat as she squeals with joy. She practically bounces to the door, thanks Marco, and returns to place the bouquet on Emma’s coffee table.

“I think I know who these are from,” Mary Margaret teases in a sing-song voice. “Buttercups and forget-me-nots are your favorite, right?”

“They are.” And only three people in the world know that. Sure enough, the card is in Killian’s handwriting.

Since we met, not a day has gone by that I haven’t thought of you. Happy Valentine’s Day! Love, Killian

Emma sinks back down into the couch as she traces her thumb over the writing. She’s been purposely pushing the memory of last night far from her mind. Hoping that she dreamed the whole thing. Surely she didn’t actually tell Killian Jones she loved him. Because she wouldn’t do that. Would she?

“What’s going on between you two?”

Emma fiddles with the corner of the tiny square of cardstock. “In a nutshell, he had the flu and confessed his love to me. Then I got the flu and did the same.”

Mary Margaret smiles eagerly as she leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “That’s great!” but her smile quickly falls to a frown instead when Emma sighs deeply and tosses Killian’s little note on the coffee table. “Wait, it’s not great? How can this not be great?”

“Because,” Emma groans, tilting her head back and covering her face with both hands, “I don’t do relationships, remember?”

“Yeah, I know,” Mary Margaret deadpans, “which is why I stopped setting you up. Remember?” She pauses for a moment, then leans forward to squeeze Emma’s knee. “But I think this is different, don’t you?”

Emma lets her hands drop to her lap as she glares at Mary Margaret. “Yeah, it’s different. Killian was a great friend, and now I don’t even have that.”

Emma expects Mary Margaret to launch into one of her famous hope speeches, but instead the brunette rolls her eyes in exasperation. “Or you could have something even better.”

“But how can I be sure? How do I know that it won’t result in a broken heart like every other time?” Emma’s gesturing with both hands as her voice rises.

Mary Margaret gets up and sits next to Emma on the couch, grabbing both her hands in hers. “Listen to me right now, okay? We can never know the future, but with Killian there are a few things I do know. Neal abandoned you, I get that. But hasn’t Killian proven that he sticks around?”

Emma’s brow furrows as she thinks over their friendship. Of all the times her prickly attitude and high walls should have sent Killian running in the opposite direction. But instead, all of that had only seemed to draw him closer. She thinks of his actions since she packed up her cubicle. Two bouquets of flowers and taking care of her when she got sick. Emma lets out a shaky breath.

“Yeah, I guess he has.”

“And Walsh,” Mary Margaret continues, “he lied. He pretended to be someone he wasn’t, and you got your heart broken. But has Killian ever lied to you?”

Emma gnaws on the bottom of her lip as she avoids Mary Margaret’s gaze. “No, he hasn’t,” she admits begrudgingly.

“So are you going to let those two jerks from your past keep you from a guy who already makes you so happy? You’re going to let those assholes have that kind of power over you?”

Emma practically flinches at those words. Emma prides herself on making her own way in life, of punching back when people try to tell her who she ought to be. Mary Margaret knows this well. She’s leveled a sucker punch, and Emma can’t ignore the truth of what she’s said. Emma leans forward and fingers the soft petals of one of the forget-me-nots. Then she makes a decision. Maybe the scariest one of her life.

“So it’s Valentine’s Day . . . “ she muses out loud.

“I know what you’re going to say,” Mary Margaret sighs as she sags against the back of the couch, “it’s cheesy and commercial and –“

“Actually,” Emma says with a huge smile, “I was going to say maybe I want to celebrate it for once.”

*****************************************************

The look on Killian’s face when he opens the door makes Emma second guess this whole thing. Shock is the number one look in his eyes as he blinks three times in rapid succession.

“Swan?” he asks tentatively, as if she might be some sort of hallucination.

“Surprise!” she announces with a shrug. “Happy Valentine’s Day!”

The silence stretches on, and the only thing that calms Emma’s nerves is the slight half-smile that hitches up the left corner of his mouth. “Um . . . well, this is a surprise,” he finally says with one arched brow.

Emma clears her throat awkwardly, almost dropping the giant chocolate lips as she juggles the even more gigantic stuffed monkey to her other hand. Killian reaches out and takes the monkey and the candy leaving her standing there holding the string of the red, heart shaped balloon like a kid at the county fair. She shuffles her feet from side to side.

“I shopped last minute, and the selection wasn’t that great, plus I wasn’t sure what you’d like . . . “she trails off when she realizes she’s rambling. “Look, I’m trying to say that I . . . think, anyway . . . that I might possibly . . . want to stop running. From this. I mean us.”

She grimaces at her horrible, stuttering choice of words. She watches Killian’s face closely. Watches as that humorous, half grin morphs into a generous smile that fills his face and lights his eyes. He drops the stupid monkey and the tacky chocolate lips and steps quickly forward, cupping her face in his hands. Just as his lips are about to brush against hers, Emma lifts her fingers to his mouth to stop him.

“I might still be contagious.”

Killian’s eyes darken with desire and his voice drops lower as he brushes a kiss against her cheek and whispers in her ear, “Don’t care.”

Then his lips are on hers, soft and slow. Emma lets go of the balloon string to wrap her arms around his neck, tilting her head to deepen the kiss. She can see the balloon out of the corner of her eye bouncing against the ceiling until it reaches the stairwell where it floats up to the next floor and out of view. Emma kind of feels like that balloon right now. Weightless and soaring, the dizzying heights of Killian’s kisses making her feel free and light for the first time in years.

*****************************************************

The airline had been understanding when she called about her ticket. She told them her plans had changed due to the flu, though she hadn’t offered any details. Since they clearly didn’t want the flu virus sealed in an airtight cabin with dozens of people, they had been incredibly accommodating. She had ninety days to transfer her ticket to another flight.

So here it was, March, and finally Emma was packing for Bermuda. Luckily, she had been able to get a second ticket as well. She’s folding a yellow sundress when Killian comes up behind her and nuzzles her neck.

“Morning love,” he mutters against her skin, “excited about our trip?”

Emma leans back against him, giggling as he nibbles her ear. “Incredibly,” she teases with a suggestive bat of her eyes.

Killian actually growls low in his throat as he grasps her tighter with one arm. With his other hand, he lifts something in front of Emma. Dangling from his fingers is the same red bikini she had bought months ago.

“Don’t forget this,” he teases, “I’ve been dreaming of seeing you in it for weeks now.”

Emma tosses the bikini into her suitcase then turns in Killian’s arm. He grasps her tighter around the waist as she loops her arms around his neck. Their lips meet in a kiss that starts sweet and slow, but quickly turns passionate. Emma is tempted to shove him backwards onto her bed, but suddenly a thought overwhelms her and she breaks the kiss to gaze long into his eyes.

“What is it, love?” he asks, his brow furrowing with concern.

“I’m just happy,” she tells him, fiddling with the hair at the nape of his neck.

He cups her face gently and smiles at her in return. “Me too.”

#cssv #cs ff #cs ff au #friends to lovers #the flu

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amar3141-blog · 5 years ago

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What is the difference and similarity in flu and coronavirus.

Coronavirus (COVID-19) and the Flu: Similarities as well as Differences

a part of what makes the new coronavirus (COVID-19) so concerning is how harmless the primary symptoms are often. Like flu, COVID-19 usually starts with a fever, fatigue, and cough

Coronavirus However, many factors - from cause and transmission to complications - distinguish the 2 respiratory diseases.

Causes of flu

Flu Causes all types of flu - the foremost common is influenza A - are caused by an influenza virus. There are many strains that always mutate. for instance, influenza A comes in two subtypes and lots of types; H1N1 is that the strain that caused swine influenza in 2009. additionally, there also are influenza B, C and D. what percentage differing types of flu are there?

Coronavirus (COVID-19) Causes

COVID-19, on the opposite hand, is caused by an epidemic called SARS-CoV-2.2. it's a part of a bigger family of coronaviruses, the milder of which may cause the cold (although for the foremost part colds are more likely) by rhinoviruses), the foremost serious of which may cause MERS and SARS. Symptoms Flu symptoms Seasonal flu comes on suddenly. The time period - the amount between contracting the virus and showing symptoms - is 1 to 4 days. it always causes several symptoms: Fever or chills (not everyone with the flu will experience this) Cough pharyngitis Runny or stuffy nose Muscle or body aches Headache Fatigue Vomiting and diarrhea (more common in children than adults) Influenza symptoms Coronavirus (COVID-19) Symptoms COVID-19 symptoms can occur one to 14 days after the primary exposure. they typically include: Fever Dry cough Fatigue Shortness of breath Some patients experience additional symptoms: pharyngitis Runny or stuffy nose Pain within the body Diarrhea About 1 in 6 people with COVID-19 become seriously ill. Both the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) and therefore the World Health Organization (WHO) say that breathing difficulties are a symbol deserve medical attention, no matter whether the cause is assumed to be flu, coronavirus, or something else. Complications Obviously, flu and COVID-19 show quite some overlap of symptoms. But the complications of the diseases are that they begin to diverge a touch more. At a press conference on March 3, WHO Director General Dr. Tedros Adhanom Ghebreyesus that COVID-19 causes more serious diseases worldwide than seasonal flu. The reason? many of us round the world have built immunity to seasonal flu strains. But since COVID-19 is fresh, nobody has immunity. As a result, an infection is more likely, and a few of these infections will end in a significant illness. Flu complications Poor 3 Sinus infection Ear infection Seriously Pneumonia Heart inflammation (myocarditis) Inflammation of the brain (encephalitis) Inflammation of muscle tissue (rhabdomyolysis) Multi-organ failure Sepsis Worsening of chronic conditions Coronavirus (COVID-19) Complications Pneumonia Severe acute respiratory syndrome renal failure the foremost serious complication of both the flu and COVID-19 is death. Flu worldwide death rate 1% COVID-19 Worldwide death rate 3.4% While WHO reported the above numbers, it's difficult to estimate the worldwide or national deathrate of COVID-19, notes Anju Goel, MD, MPH, member of the Verywell Health Medical Review Board. this is often because many of us will experience a light infection and can not be tested for the virus, she explains. it is vital to notice that the flu death rate within the us is below 0.1%, much less than the worldwide rate. Of the 35 million Americans who contracted the flu last year, about 34,000 died For comparison, of the 33,000 Americans with reported cases of COVID-19, 400 died on March 23. this is often approximately 1.2%, which is again below the estimated global deathrate of COVID-19. While the death rate is consistently changing as new cases are reported, COVID-19 causes more deaths than the flu - both worldwide and within the us. Transmission of flu and corona virus Both the flu and COVID-19 are often spread through respiratory drops from an infected person. But current WHO data suggest that one person with COVID-19 infects between 2 and a couple of.5 people on the average, compared to someone with the seasonal flu, who will infect a mean of 1.3 people. Still, the WHO says flu spreads faster than COVID-19 because it's a shorter time period and a shorter time between consecutive cases. Therapy a serious difference between the flu and COVID-19 is that the previous has both preventative and curative treatments, and therefore the latter doesn't. The milder symptoms of both conditions are often treated with over-the-counter pain medications, fever reducers, and cough medicines. Flu prevention and treatment Annual flu shots are recommended by the CDC for anyone over 6 months old. Although their effectiveness varies per annum, recent studies show that vaccines reduce the danger of influenza by 40 to 60% . albeit you get the flu after vaccination, the injection reduces the severity of the symptoms and protects against complications. Fast flu shot facts everyone should know Antiviral medications are available by prescription and may shorten the duration of flu symptoms if taken within 48 hours of the onset of symptoms. they will also prevent the flu if you have been in close contact with someone who's been diagnosed. The FDA has approved these flu antiviral medications: Tamiflu (Oseltamivir Phosphate) Relenza (zanamivir) Rapivab (peramivir) Xofluza (baloxavir marboxil) do you have to use antiviral medications for the flu? Coronavirus (COVID-19) Prevention and treatment There are currently no preventive vaccines, antivirals or other treatments for COVID-19. However, clinical studies are ongoing. A recent European study published as a preliminary study within the International Journal of Infectious Diseases suggests that existing drugs may treat COVID-19. While more research is required, the authors checked out 120 broad-spectrum antivirals, 31 of which were potential treatments. Although a scarcity of treatment sounds scary, about 80% of individuals get over the coronavirus without having special treatment. Read the full article

#coronavirus #Flu

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dreddymd · 5 years ago

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Non Pharmaceutical Infection Control

Infectious control in the 21st century certainly is not going to be anything like that of the 20th century. The age of antibiotics is about over as great harm has been done to the world’s populations with them. We have come close to compromising our biological existence with the reckless overuse of antibiotics. Now we have antibiotic-resistant strains of pathogens encroaching on our biospheres and it is getting increasingly dangerous to set foot anywhere near a hospital. Many people, including children, who die in the hospital after surgery die not from the surgery itself but from infections that get out of control. Infections cause 68 percent of child deaths.

“In many ways, this is it,” said Professor Tim Walsh. “This is potentially the end. There are no antibiotics in the pipeline that have activity against NDM-1-producing enterobacteriaceae. We have a bleak window of maybe 10 years where we are going to have to use the antibiotics we have very wisely, but also grapple with the reality that we have nothing to treat these infections with.”

It may be some time before we really enter the predicted “post antibiotic era” in which common infections are frequently untreatable. – Dr. Marc Lipsitch – Harvard School of Public Health

“Are you ready for a world without antibiotics?” runs the headline in the British Guardian. “Antibiotics are the bedrock of modern medicine. But in the very near future, we’re going to have to learn to live without them once again. And it’s going to get nasty. The era of antibiotics is coming to a close. In just a couple of generations, what once appeared to be miracle medicines have been beaten into ineffectiveness by the bacteria they were designed to knock out. Once, scientists hailed the end of infectious diseases. Now, the post-antibiotic apocalypse is within sight.”

According to several studies, obstetricians and gynecologists write 2,645,000 antibiotic prescriptions every week. Internists prescribe 1,416,000 per week. This works out to 211,172,000 prescriptions annually in the United States, just for these two specialties. Pediatricians prescribe over $500 million worth of antibiotics annually just for one condition, ear infections. Yet topical povidone iodine (PVP-I) is as effective as topical ciprofloxacin, with a superior advantage of having no in vitro drug resistance and the added benefit of reduced cost of treatment.

Infectious News

A mutant strain of the bird flu is said to be spreading through Asia and at least eight people have died in Cambodia this year of bird flu. The new strain of the H5N1 virus is spreading in China and Vietnam and can apparently sidestep defenses of existing vaccines, the U.N. Food and Agriculture Organisation said. WHO says globally there have been 331 human deaths from 565 confirmed bird flu cases since 2003 when it was first detected.

Leading microbiologist, Professor Hugh Pennington (pictured) has warned that Tamiflu may now be useless. The idea that Tamiflu was a cure-all was plainly wrong he insists.

August 19, 2011 – HANOI, Vietnam – Vietnam’s prime minister has put the country on alert as an outbreak of hand, foot and mouth disease continues to surge, killing 81 children and sickening more than 32,000 people nationwide so far this year, officials said Friday. About 65 percent of the deaths have occurred in children younger than 3. – AJC

August 13, 2011 – ORLANDO – A Brevard County teen was hospitalized after an amoeba is believed to have infected her brain while she was swimming in a local river. – ABC News

Dallas: Often called carbuncles or sebaceous cysts, doctors are seeing a rise in skin infections during this heat wave—as if the weather itself isn’t making us miserable enough. – CBS News

Bahamas: The Bahamas has now broken its record for the number of dengue fever cases reported during the yearly seasonal outbreaks, with more than 1,500 confirmed cases, according to Minister of Health, Dr. Hubert Minnis. – The Nassau Guardian

August 7, 2011 – NEW DELHI – Six years after leprosy was declared officially eliminated in India, officials and doctors are warning that the disfiguring disease is spreading in poverty-stricken pockets of the country. – Physics.org

August 3, 2011 – LONDON – Scientists have identified an emerging “superbug” strain of salmonella that is highly resistant to the antibiotic ciprofloxacin, or Cipro, often used for severe salmonella infections, and say they fear it may spread around the world. –Reuters

July 23, 2011 – DOMINICAN REPUBLIC – Authorities in the Dominican Republic have announced that the death toll in the cholera epidemic that spread from Haiti has risen to 87. – Press TV

July 11, 2011 – JAPAN – Scientists have found a “superbug” strain of gonorrhea in Japan that is resistant to all recommended antibiotics and say it could transform a once easily treatable infection into a global public health threat. The new strain of the sexually transmitted disease—called H041—cannot be killed by any currently recommended treatments for gonorrhea, leaving doctors with no other option than to try medicines so far untested against the disease. – Reuters

June 30, 2011 – SMITHTOWN, N.Y. – A cluster of whooping cough is growing on Long Island, with dozens of people infected by the virus. – CBS

June 25, 2011 – HONG KONG – Hong Kong health authorities confirmed that a five-year-old boy had died from scarlet fever, the second death in the southern Chinese city as dozens of new cases were reported. The number of infections in the territory has soared above 500, according to health authorities, who said that more than 9,000 people had been infected in the Chinese mainland—doubling the average figure in recent years. Local scientists said the outbreak may be linked to a deadly new strain of the disease which could make it more contagious than before. It was discovered by researchers at the University of Hong Kong and appears to be resistant to antibiotics traditionally used to fight the illness. – Terra Daily

Natural Allopathic Infectious Protocol

My Natural Allopathic Protocol leads parents and doctors to utilize a three-pronged attack against all infections. Like moving in three different Panzer divisions to face the enemy head on—we employ iodine, sodium bicarbonate (baking soda) and magnesium chloride in a non-pharmaceutical frontal assault on infections.

I have been mostly using iodine in the house for the children whenever they come down with anything. Sometimes I go with some sodium bicarbonate as well but when it comes to fighting serious infections we need brute firepower when seeking to clear aggressive strains of pathogens from our systems as well as our children’s.

It was many years ago that I came across Dr. Raul Vergini and his work in Italy using magnesium chloride to fight infectious diseases. He wrote me the other day and reminded me that magnesium chloride is as important and powerful in the fighting of infectious disease as is iodine and sodium bicarbonate. He wrote saying, “Magnesium chloride has a unique healing power on acute viral and bacterial diseases. It cured polio and diphtheria and that was the main subject of my magnesium book. A few grams of magnesium chloride every few hours will clear nearly all acute illnesses, which can be beaten in a few hours. I have seen a lot of flu cases healed in 24-48 hours with 3 grams of magnesium chloride taken every 6-8 hours.”

Dr. Vergini also wrote, “In 1915, a French surgeon, Prof. Pierre Delbet, M.D., was looking for a solution to cleanse wounds, because he had found out that the traditional antiseptic solutions actually mortified tissues and facilitated the infection instead of preventing it. He tested several mineral solutions and discovered that a magnesium chloride solution was not only harmless for tissues, but it had also a great effect over leucocytic activity and phagocytosis; so it was perfect for external wounds treatment. Dr. Delbet performed a lot of in vitro and in vivo experiments with this solution and he became aware that it was good not only for external applications, but it was also a powerful immuno-stimulant if taken by injections or even by mouth. He called this effect ‘cytophilaxis’. In some in vivo experiments it was able to increase phagocytosis rate up to 300%.”

He continues, “From a practical standpoint, please remember that only Magnesium CHLORIDE—and no other magnesium salt—has this ‘cytophylactic’ activity; probably it’s a molecular and not a merely ionic matter. The solution to be used is a 2.5% Magnesium Chloride hexahydrate (MgCl2-6H2O) solution (i.e. 25 grams / 1 liter of water).”

Dosages are as follows:

Adults and children over 5 years old……………….. 125 cc

4-year-old children………………………………………… 100 cc

3-year-old children…………………………………………. 80 cc

1-2-year-old children………………………………………. 60 cc

Over 6-month-old children………………………………. 30 cc

Under 6-month-old children…………………………….. 15 cc

In acute diseases the dose is administered every 6 hours (every 3 hours the first two doses if the case is serious); then space every 8 hours and then 12 hours as improvement goes on. After recovery it’s better going on with a dose every 12 hours for some days.

Iodine

Though it kills 90 percent of bacteria on the skin within 90 seconds, its use as an antibiotic has been tragically ignored. Iodine exhibits activity against bacteria, molds, yeasts, protozoa, and many viruses; indeed, of all antiseptic preparations suitable for direct use on humans and animals and upon tissues, only iodine is capable of killing all classes of pathogens: gram-positive and gram-negative bacteria, mycobacteria, yeasts, and protozoa. Most bacteria are killed within 15 to 30 seconds of contact.

Iodine is by far the best antibiotic, antiviral and antiseptic of all time. – Dr. David Derry

Dr. Derry says that iodine is effective “for standard pathogens such as Staphylococcus, has the broadest range of action, fewest side effects and no development of bacterial resistance.” There is a world of difference between using an antibiotic—an anti-life substance—and an antibiotic, antiviral and antifungal substance like iodine, which is life-serving because it is a basic and most necessary nutritional substance.

Studies have shown that the chances of dying from hospital pneumonia or septicaemia (blood poisoning) are twice as high if the bacteria are drug-resistant, rising in the case of pneumonia from 20-30% to 40-60%.

Dr. David Derry wrote, “Iodine was the most effective agent for killing viruses, especially influenza viruses. Aerosol iodine was found to kill viruses in sprayed mists, and solutions of iodine were equally effective. In 1945, Burnet and Stone found that putting iodine on mice snouts prevented the mice from being infected with live influenza virus in mists. They suggested that impregnating masks with iodine would help stop viral spread. They also recommended that medical personnel have iodine-aerosol-treated rooms for examination and treatment of highly infected patients.

Arm & Hammer 1926

A half teaspoon full of Bicarbonate of Soda is in a glass of cold water, and repeated if necessary in one or two hours, will often ward off a cold in its early stages. In addition a hot Soda Bath is very beneficial. Use half pound to one pound of Bicarbonate of Soda in as hot a bath as can be borne. Remain immersed in the water for about fifteen minutes. It is important to go to bed at once after this bath in order to avoid exposure.

A bath taken in this way causes the Alkali to penetrate the system and is a material aid to the human system in throwing off the germs of Grippe. “In 1918 and 1919 while fighting the ‘Flu’ with the U.S. Public Health Service it was brought to my attention that rarely anyone who had been thoroughly alkalinized with bicarbonate of soda contracted the disease, and those who did contract it, if alkalinized early, would invariably have mild attacks. I have since that time treated all cases of ‘Cold,’ Influenza and La Gripe by first giving generous doses of Bicarbonate of Soda, and in many, many instances within 36 hours the symptoms would have entirely abated.”

During the first day take six doses of half teaspoonful of Arm & Hammer Bicarbonate of Soda in glass of cool water, at about two hour intervals. During the second day take four doses of half teaspoonful of Arm & Hammer Bicarbonate of Soda in glass of cool water, at the same intervals. During the third day take two doses of half teaspoonful of Arm & Hammer Bicarbonate of Soda in glass of cool water morning and evening, and thereafter half teaspoonful in glass of cool water each morning until cold is cured.

Cancer Bugs

In 2007 Scientific American said, “Researchers have for the first time shown that as many as 1.3 million cases of cancer a year may one day be successfully treated or even prevented by targeting and destroying the viruses that cause them. Scientists at the Albert Einstein College of Medicine of Yeshiva University in New York City say the finding could pave the way for conquering human cancers that are linked to preexisting viral infections, among them liver cancer (caused by the hepatitis B and C viruses), cervical cancer (from human papillomavirus) and lymphomas caused by the Epstein-Barr virus. They key, they say, is to find and destroy the viruses before they turn cancerous.”

The same protocol for infections, when expanded with the introduction of cannabinoid medicine, is effective for cancer and the numerous infections that cause or accompany it.

Dr. Mark Sircus AC., OMD, DM (P)

Using Glutathione and Selenium to Treat Viral Infections

Infections as a Cause of Cancer

Important News about Bicarbonates, Cancer, the Pancreas, Diabetes and Fungal Infections

Why Use Baking Soda for Fungus Infections

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#IFTTT #WordPress

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topprescriptiontips52319-blog · 6 years ago

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The Greatest Benefits to Tamiflu Coupons

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dknc3 · 8 years ago

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Well, grad party weekend is almost over and I appear to have survived. It was a close thing for awhile there, though!

Long text post under the cut summarizing the weekend’s adventures. (And giving a pretty good illustration as to WHY I’ve been a tumblr absentee of late, LOL!!)

About 30 hours prior to party time, I received a call from #2 telling me he felt like death and had been unable to rise from his bed except to stumble to the bathroom for nearly 24 hours! Why he hadn’t felt it necessary to tell me this when texting with me the night before about coming home from school for his brother’s party, who knows? Anyway, he NEVER complains about being sick even when he is and he sounded like death and answered “no” to questions about having Advil, water, or cough medicine in his dorm room or any way to get them or any capability of driving his car around the block much less home.

So, I embarked on a 3 hour round trip to fetch my sickly second son, guiltily leaving my husband with an insanely long party prep “to do” list in my absence. One of us at least had to work on preparing both the deck and yard (where we WANTED the party to be) and the big ugly unfinished basement (where we feared a lot of the party might have to be because the weather forecast was getting shittier by the moment.) I had to be the parent who took the road trip because A–I am willing to drive much faster than my law abiding husband and therefore could accomplish the rescue mission more quickly, and B–MAMA is the parent best at caring for our ill babies, regardless of age.

When I got #2 into the car, he was burning up with fever, hacking like someone with tuberculosis, and complaining that EVERYTHING hurt! I gave him Advil and water and apple juice which I brought along and told him if it wasn’t May I’d swear he had the flu. Those words proved prophetic when I took him straight to the doctor’s office once we got back into town and he tested positive for INFLUENZA A!!! Seriously? Who comes down with the freaking flu in late May?!? Apparently, MY KID. On the eve of his brother’s grad party.

So I got him a prescription for tamiflu, a bunch of decongestant and cough meds, and tucked him into his bed before launching back into full force party prep.

Mr. DKNC, quite proud of himself, had purchased two nice canopies which he set up on the deck. They would do beautifully to shade folks should the sun shine and protect well enough from potential pop-up showers without bad wind, but at least overnight, potential thunderstorms with heavy winds were predicted. I mentioned we might want to take the canopies down until closer to party time, but this suggestion was met with “It’ll be fine.”

A few hours later as I was rethinking whether or not I had enough food in the house and ready for pick-up the following morning (after receiving a gleeful call from #1 that several more of his friends had just let him know they’d be able to come after all and three text messages from family friends letting me know their entire families were coming), the severe thunderstorms showed up, and at a rather ominous sound from out on the deck, Mr. DKNC raced out back and shouted, “Dammit! I didn’t know there was going to be a fucking hurricane!”

So the two of us set to work dismantling the canopies before they were torn apart by the wind. In a torrential downpour. While he swore and complained the way he only does when he feels he should have more control over situations which are completely out of his control. Sigh.

He’d done a ridiculous amount of work all day long–the house and yard truly did look amazing, and we’d actually begged, borrowed, and stolen enough tables and chairs that we had outdoor seating for nearly fifty people at a time–over half of that at tables. The house, after 3 days of cleaning, was about as spotless as it gets, and I’d figured out a plan to set up the musicians in the basement rather than on the deck and move a bunch of chairs in there if we really had to–while praying we didn’t have to.

Son #1 came home from dinner out with his girlfriend (he had cleaned the barn earlier in the day), and I sent him right back out to pick up our only non-driver–Son #3–from his job at the hardware store. (I cannot WAIT until May 31st when that kid can get his license!)

I made Ramen noodles for flu boy and ordered pizza for everyone else and decided to call it a night.

Party day dawned grey and rainy, and Mr. DKNC (aka my personal Lord of Winterfell) got all “Winter is Coming” on me with various dire weather disaster predictions. I made him take #3 to work (yes, the kid worked evening shift the day before and opening shift on party day so he could get off early enough in the afternoon not to miss much of the party) just so #1 and I didn’t have to listen to him. #2 got out of bed, showered, dressed, said he felt a bit better, sat up and talked with me while I began setting up the buffet area in the kitchen, then began to feel crappy again–because FLU–and went dejectedly back to bed.

Mr. DKNC had come home after dropping #3 at work and picking up a few things I’d realized we’d forgotten about and put on a list for him. The rain had slowed to intermittent drizzle with only very brief spotty showers so I crossed my fingers and assigned him and #1 to put the canopies back up while I went out and picked up all the sandwiches and barbecue and fruit and vegetable trays and pasta and potato salad, etc. I’d ordered from the grocery and our local meat market. Then I headed to the bakery to pick up the great big cake.

Got home and just had time to say hi to the musicians who’d arrived and we’re setting up and then get all the food actually ready to serve and all the drinks (which Mr. DKNC had gone out and bought using my shopping list my road trip to rescue #2, calling me at least fifteen times from the store because apparently my directions weren’t always clear, LOL!) iced down and the balloons hung at the end of our road (because it’s easy to miss if you don’t know the way) when the first guests arrived, rushing onto the screened in porch with umbrellas up to protect them from the sudden downpour.

That rain lasted 30 minutes and then disappeared did not return for 6 hours. Seventy people ended up at the party and no one went inside except to get food, use the bathroom, play pool, or take a brief AC break because the temperature soared into the mid-eighties. The guests ranged in age from 2 to 84, and both the youngest and the oldest danced to the music which was fabulous. Our musician friends played for 5 hours straight, only stopping when the rain started to threaten again close to 9pm. Most of the older people and the families with small kids left around 9, but at least thirty people were here until after midnight, playing pool, sitting on the screened in porch watching the storm, snacking, drinking, laughing, and generally having a great time. The last of the guests above college age left around 1am, and Mr. DKNC and I decided it was time for bed. No idea what time the last of #1’s friends left or availed themselves of various sofas here to sleep on.

But it WAS a really good day–family from 3 hours away, friends we hadn’t seen in years–we really felt blessed by all the folks who came out to celebrate with our son. And while my husband and I both felt we never got to talk to anyone over 5 minutes most of the day as we kept trying to talk to EVERYONE (and keep food hot and drinks cold all day long), we had fun. More importantly #1 had fun. And I’ve got the video of him singing Johnny Cash with the band!!

The only person who didn’t have much fun was #2 who spent most of the day in his bedroom with Netflix and Advil. He did rally enough on two occasions to put in brief appearances to at least talk to relatives who hadn’t seen him in a long time–but he wasn’t allowed to touch anyone, I had to fix his plate as he wasn’t allowed NEAR the food, and he wrote BIOHAZARD all over his cup so no one would accidentally drink after him! And he still only spent maybe an hour total out of his room, poor guy.

This morning I woke early to take #3 to work (yes, again–this kid needs a driver’s license), Mr. DKNC went to church, but I stayed home because #1 (who as far as I know slept almost none at all) went out to breakfast at 10 with his girlfriend and two couples from her college who had come down for his party and I didn’t want to leave #2 (who didn’t have fever this morning–YAY!–but was still pretty achy) on his own.

I discovered the college kids had attempted to clean up a bit as there were several garbage bags filled and left out on the screened-in porch. Unfortunately, these must have been city kids who don’t realize why all of our outdoor garbage cans have lockable latches on them. So … Our local trash pandas had their own party on the porch some time in the wee hours. Their nasty, muddy little foot prints were all over everything, all bags were ripped open, and trash was strewn everywhere! No offense to my dear @thefairfleming, but trash pandas are evil incarnate!!

So … that was an hour of my life I won’t get back. I rewarded myself for doing that thankless job by eating cake for breakfast. Hey, the little bit of cake left was too big for the plastic storage container I had by only a couple inches!! I had to solve that problem!!

I’ve now cleaned the rest of the house. I don’t even want to know how cake crumbs and empty beer cans found their way to some of the places I found them! I’m almost afraid to check the barn as there was a veritable parade of folks going down to visit the horses yesterday.

But the only task left for today is another road trip to get #2 back to school. He isn’t well, but he is better, and he has only TWO days left. This time I’m taking Mr. DKNC with me. As long as we have to make the trip, we’ll take most of his stuff home with us so he can just leave on his own when he’s officially finished. I’ve got his drugs packed up and clean linens to put on his bed there, and that’s the best I can do for him at this point. I seriously hate taking him back still sick, but he has to finish the term.

And then, Mr. DKNC and I will come home and finally get to rest and relax. Just kidding!! We’ll sleep for a few hours and then I’ll go to work and he’ll fly off on a trip tomorrow! And as we realized as we got in bed last night, we’ll now be expected to do this crazy thing at least twice more!!! We both lay there and laughed hysterically when that thought hit us because really … no other reaction was possible!

#my crazy life #I do love all my boys though #wouldn't change any of it #well maybe Son 2's flu #We could definitely have done without that!

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hangonimevolving · 5 years ago

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The Happiest Place on Earth, and New Year 2020 Adventures

Dear readers - I have a really convoluted update for you all today, but (I think) it has a happy ending!

First of all. HAPPY NEW YEAR 2020! Hope the new year brings us all peace, fulfillment, and most of all.... GOOD HEALTH.

The family and I kicked off the holiday season in a veritable flurry of activity. The kids celebrated their school holiday show with great fanfare...

And then I had a personal high, as I completed my second-ever Jingle Bell Jog 5K race successfully!

This was the first event of my race series and fundraiser for the Michael J. Fox Foundation for Parkinson’s Research. so I was extra happy at having ticked this item off my to-do list.

That same day, just hours after I crossed the finish line, Dr. Spouse, the kids and I packed up the car and headed north to the Orlando area, for a 6 day vacation. The week was planned to include a four-day stint visiting the parks at Walt Disney World along with my parents, who would be flying directly from New Orleans to join us.

We had a blast on this trip! After a few rough months, it was so much fun to make new memories with Ajima and Thatha, especially since taking the grandkids to Disney has long been an item on Thatha’s bucket list. We were delighted to help him work on this one!

The trip was *almost* perfect. Almost. There was just one hiccup.... and fortunately/unfortunately, it mainly involved me.

I woke up on the final day of our Disney parks adventures - Thursday, December 26 - ready to tackle Epcot, which is my favorite of the four parks. But the minute my eyes popped open, I just knew something wasn’t 100% right with me. I felt like I’d been hit by a BUS. I had horrible body ache all over, my head was pounding, and my chest felt heavy, as if someone had poured a gallon of wallpaper paste into my lungs. I groaned to myself, knowing what this meant - I was probably coming down with a cold - but I still forced myself up and to get ready, since it was our last day of the trip and there was no way I was missing it!

By the time we loaded into the car and headed out, the leaky faucet nose had started. I definitely sneezed a LOTTTTTTT through the entire day - huge, rib-cracking sneezes, that had my entire rib cage and back hurting well before lunchtime and through the evening. But I pressed forward, tried not to make a big deal. As I had been throughout the trip, I was even more militant in insisting the family use hand sanitizer and antibacterial hand wipes all day long than I already had been (which was a lot). But yeah, it was a very long and difficult day.

I put myself to bed in isolation that night - I didn’t want anyone else catching my germs! The good side of my isolation is, I didn’t disturb anyone else’s sleep that night, and I managed to abstain from infecting anyone. One down side is, I suppose it meant that no one in the house saw how sick I actually was, and by the transitive property, perhaps even I didn't register how sick I was. That night, I ran a very high fever, yet was having teeth-chattering chills for hours. I couldn’t breathe through my nose, and coughed nonstop. I got awful, fitful sleep, with weird, violent, vivid dreams all night.

The next day, I started suspecting that maybe I didn’t just have a cold - maybe it was the flu? We tried to locate an urgent care clinic where I could get a rapid flu test, but it proved hard to find anywhere with a <6 hour wait, and I was absolutely determined not to get anyone else sick (least of all my post-CABG father or my two young kids). So I insisted Dr. Spouse just call in a Tamiflu prescription for the entire household - it would be therapeutic for me, and prophylactic for all of them. He dutifully obliged, and we were all on Tamiflu by 2:30 pm Friday. We said goodbye to my parents this evening - they flew out of Orlando directly to New Orleans - and Dr. Spouse, the kids and I would drive back to Miami the next day.

That night’s sleep was worse than the previous, and featured the worst fever sweats I’ve ever had in my life, soaking through all my clothes, all the bedsheets, down to the mattress cover. It seriously looked like someone had dumped the Gatorade bucket on me after winning the Super Bowl. And again, I had violent, bloody dreams of war imagery all night....

The next day was every bit as painful as the last, and perhaps more so - my entire head and chest were clogged with sludge, the body ache was debilitating, and worst was that I felt like I couldn’t really think straight or make good decisions. In a nutshell, we weren’t packed up at all, and I woke up from fitful sleep about 9:30 that day and to my horror realized we had to check out of the rental cottage by 11 - - I was trying to run around and pack, but my body and brain were literally not working properly together. It was brutal - and we were definitely an hour late vacating the property. I ended up falling asleep within minutes as we started our drive home, and slept 3.5 hours of the 4 hour drive, which SHOCKED me and Dr. Spouse - I never sleep on road trips! Should have known this was a bad sign that something was really wrong.

Sunday and Monday, things started looking up. I still had terrible sinus congestion, but the cough and fevers were improving, and my energy level was slowly returning! Hurray! Time to get back to normal..... except, weirdly, some new weird symptoms popped up. I was blowing my nose a LOT, admittedly - but I developed a nosebleed sometime early Monday morning, and it just... didn’t stop. For well over 24 hours. Then I noticed a few weird red spots on my face and neck - I assumed maybe I’d scratched in my sleep when I was sweaty at night? But by Tuesday, there were more red spots in more places. Everywhere. On my back, stomach, chest, arms, legs, feet... my sinus symptoms were better, but these spots were weird. It hit a head on Tuesday morning when Dr. Spouse and I sat down to breakfast. I definitely had more spots than I’d had an hour before. I poured myself a bowl of cereal and began to eat, but then I noticed my mouth felt funny. I realized, to my horror (sorry, TMI) - I had big spots in my mouth too, and they looked like these blood-filled blisters all over the insides of my cheeks and the back of my throat. They looked like dark purple jellybeans, stuck everywhere on my oral mucosa - and some of them were doubling and tripling in size before my very eyes. One burst, right there at the table, and suddenly a trickle of blood oozed our the corner of my mouth. Dracula Mommy, yikes - Dey was at once amazed and horrified. And all the while, my nose was still bleeding.

Dr. Spouse looked grave and got panicky. He had three patients to see in clinic, but he wanted me to get medical attention ASAP. I initially felt like maybe this was a bit of an overreaction, I didn’t think it warranted an ER trip, and I was feeling rather sheepish to bother a lot of people, and bewildered at the childcare logistics - especially considering it was New Year’s Eve. Besides, my sinus congestion and energy level were feeling better - so how sick could I really be?

Well, turns out I was wrong. It turns out there was actually something seriously wrong with me.

Blood tests revealed I had developed a very serious condition called thrombocytopenia. This is a condition where a person’s blood platelets levels drop dangerously low, making it difficult or impossible for them to clot. It makes any sort of wound or injury or weakness in any vessel or the body a potential site for deadly hemhorrage. In my case, it happened to be very severe. The normal lab ranges for blood platelets are between 150,000-400,000. At my ER admission, my labs came in at 1,000, with a little downward arrow next to them! It was a dire situation - basically, I could have hemhorraged from anywhere, from my head to my toes, from my brain to my entire GI tract. I could have died.

Very quickly after the issue was diagnosed, I was administered a transfusion of IV steroids, followed by two units of donor platelets.

After the platelets, I had to receive something called IVIG, or IV immunoglobulins. I believe these are to boost my immune system and help it stop accidentally nuking itself in the course of fighting the flu virus, or whatever pathogen started me down this insane road. The IVIG infusion, as it would turn out, would take like HOURS - maybe 8 hours total - and it was determined that I’d have to be admitted to the hospital (to the ICU, no less!) for a whopping FOUR DAYS, to receive further IVIG treatments until my platelet levels came back to an acceptable range. I was FLOORED and overwhelmed at this news, of course - again is really thought perhaps Dr. Spouse was being overly cautious initially. But I soon realized the gravity of the situation and promised to comply with all the healthcare professionals’ advice.

Although I cringed to do it, knowing a) what they’ve gone through recently, and b) the fact that we’d JUST spent the week with them in Orlando and sent them peacefully home, I found myself with no choice but to phone Ajima and Thatha from the ER and explain what was going on. True to form, they mobilized within minutes, and had plane tickets booked in no time. They arrived right around midnight on New Years Eve to relieve our wonderful friend/former Nanny S, who graciously pinch-hit and babysat the kids at home so Dr. Spouse could come be with me. I’d been in the ER from about 1 pm till maybe 5:30 or 6 pm, and eventually been transferred to an intermediary ICU room, where I’d spend the next 4 days.

Do you see my purple spots?? Hard to visualize in these pics, but they’re there.

I spent the next 4 days mostly in bed - I wasn’t permitted to walk around unattended, use the bathroom on my own, shower without supervision, etc. because even though I felt fine and am ordinarily physically able, I was considered a bleed risk if I accidentally stumbled or took a fall. So in bed I stayed. And for about 10-12 hours each day, I received IV infusions through both arms of steroids and IVIG. It was a surreal experience, but also an incredibly fortuitous one, in that I didn’t really feel all that sick! Dr. Spouse would come visit me for a few hours each afternoon through the nights, and my parents would bring the kids for about an hour each evening. I had a wonderful crew of nurses who looked after me, talked with me, made sure I was comfortable and well-fed. And my medical team was also very good, especially my hematologist, who was careful, methodical, and very even-keel about everything, explaining what had likely happened to me, what the next steps were, and what I should look out for in the future.

I have A LOT more to say about this experience, especially all that has now happened afterwards, and all the follow-up care I must now receive. It is going to be a journey for awhile longer. But for now, a few thoughts in closing out this post....

It’s weird. Obviously, I wish NONE of this had happened - but I also felt so incredibly lucky. Because:

1). I’m so glad my post-heart surgery dad, senior citizen mom, and young kids didn’t get this virus, and that it was only me. I’m also glad Dr. Spouse, our primary breadwinner, care provider for hundreds of people, and our beloved daddice of our family didn’t get it.

2). If this absolutely had to happen to me, I consider myself lucky that in recent years, I’ve put my fitness first, and especially these last few weeks, I’ve been training for a race series, which means I’ve been eating right, training rigorously, attending to my cardiovascular health as well as my lean muscle composition, taking lots of multivitamins, and even pursuing yoga for restorative, rehabilitative, and emotional/mental health. Basically, I was AS HEALTHY as I could have been going into this, and I think that saved my life. I didn’t have a fatal vascular weakness that gave way to hemorrhage, because I’ve had the blessing of the opportunity to take good care of myself.

3). I have an ANGEL on my side. My uncle Marley was definitely looking out for me. Aside from being a huge source of love and support - it so happens that Marley suffered for many years from a platelet disorder which was constantly being managed. He was of course the first person who came to mind when I got diagnosed with this issue - - and I swear he was looking out for me. I even have evidence to that effect. Will share in a followup post.

4). Last but not least - - this one is overwhelming and wonderful.

I met my husband when we were about 18 years old. I had no idea at the time what the future held for us - but this person has evolved into many things, including a WONDERFUL, sensitive, intelligent, and proactive physician. He is REALLY, REALLY good at what he does for a living - and I think that’s because he would do it even if he didn't make a living doing it. He LOVES his particular field of medicine. And it so happens that he is a stroke neurologist, who sees patients with brain bleeds and emergency events related to bleeding/clotting every single day. So it was my incredible fortune that the man I’m married to, saw what was happening with me, wasted ZERO time, and insisted I get care.

My husband saved my life. He is my hero.

Alright. I think I’ll end this one here. In upcoming posts, I’ll be discussing several things, including:

- the aftermath of my great Flu Adventure - the types of follow-up care and remaining question marks about my health (and hopefully I’ll be getting some reassuring data to share here!)

- an update about my Race Series! Obviously (and heartbreakingly) I’m going to have to rejigger some things here. I am working on my emotions with this. But I’ll share it all with you.

In conclusion - - I want to wish you all a happy new year. May it be a year of good health and fortune for everyone! Big hugs and big love :)

#illness #ITP #thrombocytopenia #flu #Disney #travel #family #Dr. Spouse #marriage

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