#Abdominal Pain Diagnosis

[spartanmemesmedical]

What is Abdominal Pain: Symptoms, Causes, Diagnosis, Treatment, and Prevention

Abdominal pain is a common and often perplexing discomfort that can arise from various underlying issues. This blog aims to shed light on the intricacies of abdominal pain, covering its symptoms, causes, diagnosis, treatment, and prevention strategies. Symptoms:Abdominal pain manifests in different ways, ranging from dull aches to sharp, stabbing sensations. Other associated symptoms may include…

[pinkiemme]

I have a meeting on Monday with a social worker to review my medical history so I was checking and printing everything and the first unspecified abdominal pain I had diagnosed it’s from 2022, damn

Have been in a “tummy hurt send help” state for longer than I thought

[dratefahmed1]

Acute Appendicitis 19 Questions and Answers #acuteappendicitis #appendicitis #symptoms #shorts #mcqs

#shorts #mcqs #appendicitis “Acute Appendicitis: Questions and Answers” #acuteappendicitis #appendicitis #symptoms #causes #treatment “Everything You Need to Know About Acute Appendicitis” #acuteappendicitis #appendicitis #symptoms #causes #treatment #prevention “Acute Appendicitis: Frequently Asked Questions” #acuteappendicitis #appendicitis #faqs #symptoms #causes #treatment “Can You Really Die…

[dodger-thirteen]

FINALLY GOT MY DAMN TEST RESULTS. Called the urgent care again, was routed to the contact center (CC) again. Talked to the LOVELIEST HUMAN BEING /notsarcasmatall who listened to me explain the situation. They tell me that I should have gotten my results within 5-7 business days, and we are way past that, so they're going to call the location and put me on the phone with them.

So, I told them what happened the last time, when the CC forwarded me to the location and no one picked up and I had to leave a second message asking "WTF mate." They were like "okay, let me call them and talk to them first, make sure you can actually talk to a person there."

So they put me on hold, and I wait a while. They come back and are like "okay, so they have the test results and they say they are on the portal on their end, but for whatever reason, they aren't showing for you. So they said you'll have to make an appointment to discuss the results."

Me: Okay, but then I have to pay my co-pay again.

Them: I know. :( But that's all they're giving me.

Me: Is it possible there just isn't a box checked that should be or something?

Them: Hm...let me call them back.

Only, this time, they keep me on the line instead of putting me on hold. I caught on pretty quick that I was to keep my mouth shut and just listen. They talk to the front desk attendant (FDA) again, who seems to be having just not a good day or hates their job (fair) and is just NOT IN THE MOOD to be dealing with this.

Finally, the contact center person is like "okay, but if [she] makes another appointment, [she] has to pay [her] co-pay again for test results from an appointment [she] has already had."

FDA: *long-suffering sigh* Hang on. *puts us on hold*

CC: You get all that?

Me: OH YEAH.

So we're on hold for a bit, then the FDA comes back to confirm my birth date and puts up back on hold. Waiting, waiting.

FDA comes back on the line.

FDA: The provider will put the results on the portal shortly, when she's done with her current patient.

Then she basically hangs up on us. And my CC person is back on the line with me like "okay, you got all that, right?"

Me: So...they said the results were on the portal, when they weren't, but now because we made a fuss, they are actually going to authorize the portal to show my test results.

CC: Yep!

Me: What a wild ride. Thank you so much for your help.

I am honestly sad that I didn't get a prompt for a review for my CC person because they were awesome and so nice.

[frecklenog]

i want you all to understand this.

insulin pens are very often used by diabetic children (or their parents, but they were very easy to use during the short time i was prescribed them when i was a child myself). they’re less cumbersome, produce less waste, and are far easier than pulling insulin from a vial with a single use syringe, as syringes are much more susceptible to air bubbles, which result in the diabetic not getting enough medication. i’m explaining this part because i know that some diabetic adults do also use them, and i’m sure that that’s true of diabetic adults in palestine with such scarce resources. when it’s life or death, you can’t really be picky.

the israeli occupation is now banning insulin pens from entering gaza.

lack of insulin results in diabetic ketoacidosis — essentially a very, very dangerous version of the effects of the keto diet. insulin is a key for the sugar from one’s food (both slow and fast acting, since all food has some carbohydrates, from nuts to potatoes to table sugar) to get from their bloodstream into their cells. without insulin, the body resorts to eating through its own fat stores rather than the sugar it cannot access and tries to flush the excess glucose that is in the blood through the urine. this results in weight loss, headaches, nausea, dehydration, blurred vision, abdominal pain, impaired mental faculties, and, if left untreated, will result in a coma, and eventually death within a matter of weeks. not “can.” it will kill you if not treated, and was largely considered a lethal diagnosis until insulin was discovered in the early 1900s and made readily available in 1922.

i’ve been in dka. admittedly, i was very young and have blocked much of it out. but i do remember that it fucking sucked. i couldn’t focus on anything, i was ravenous no matter how much i ate, and the room spinning to the point i felt like i was going to throw up became an increasingly regular occurrence. i was seven years old and wasting away like i was starved. i was dying. a few more days, and i likely would’ve gone into a coma and might not be here now.

to inflict that, willingly and knowingly, on innocent people, is nothing short of a crime against humanity, and violates the geneva conventions (item 2.a.ii. torture or inhumane treatment, including biological experiments and item 2.a.iii. willfully causing great suffering or serious injury to body or health). not that the israeli occupation cares, of course, as south african prosecutors have already extensively detailed their crimes in the icj, and this one in particular has already been committed near-countless times.

this entire occupation is a genocide, and this is only one more nail in that coffin. but, as a diabetic — as a human being who has been in that state and was lucky enough to have the resources to live almost another fifteen years (with the anniversary of my own diagnosis about halfway through next month), i can’t find the words to express my disgust and rage anymore. maybe it’s selfish to be so deeply impacted by this particular blow. i don’t know. but these people have done nothing wrong but be disabled in gaza, and as someone with the same disability, i know that no one deserves this, even if they have committed a crime (which, again, these civilians, largely children, have not). i will not fucking stand for it.

we need a ceasefire. we need an end to the occupation. we need a free palestine. now.

here’s a masterpost of how you can help.

EDIT: here’s a post on how to help diabetics in gaza specifically

[familydocblog]

Understanding Cholecystitis: Causes, Symptoms, and Treatment

Imagine this: You're enjoying your favorite meal when all of a sudden, you're hit with a sharp pain in your upper abdomen that radiates to your right shoulder, making it difficult for you to even sit up straight. You're experiencing cholecystitis!

Imagine this: You’re enjoying your favorite meal when all of a sudden, you’re hit with a sharp pain in your upper abdomen. It’s so intense that it radiates to your right shoulder, making it difficult for you to even sit up straight. You’re experiencing cholecystitis, an inflammation of the gallbladder that can cause severe abdominal pain and other complications. This article aims to provide an…

[emacrow]

Kronos, Agent A, and bites marks

Kronos looked a bit skittish and dejected after the sixth Doctor nearly got iced by her baby after he made an unfortunate choice of mumbling words which lead to Batman calling in a favor from the Wayne's to bring in a good doctor that actually can get near both the ancient beings long enough to give a diagnosis.

Incoming Agent A, who was calmly explained the situation as he walked slowly into the containment. Kronos look at him for a moment before a bit of realization flickered in his eyes, as she murmur something.

Batman and the other heroes watches behind the hidden camera screen office, watching as Alfred check Kronos's temperature, painless blood drawn, checking her heart and breathing and gave a clear full body examination to a couple heroes were shocked to see a long horrifyingly yet old looking scar on her stomach area that look like someone dragged something sharp and was stretched a bit wide.

That gave one point to Diana theory of Kronos story being warped dramatically, but the fact of that Zeus did cut opened Kronos's stomach to pull out his siblings pin true.

A couple of more minutes past with alfred carefully examination the baby boy who was a bit squirmish while alfred did a couple of comments obviously praising Kronos whom face flushed a rather colorful red blush turning her head a bit. Alfred did asked and provides Kronos and Her baby much better comfortable Maternal and baby clothes then what they were currently wearing.

By the time alfred came out of the containment cell, alfred's soft gentleman look shifted a bit, before speaking after handing the vials of swirling golden glowing blood.

"Both madam and the child are well, a bit underweight, Ms. Kronos will need headache relief medicine, both her and the child is in need of a very light seasoned meal and drinks to not overwhelmed their senses in which I'll be providing." Alfred told then after handing the written documents forms of the examination. Batman could only grunt a bit, considering he trying not to look back at Alfred's glance considering his armored wrist had a tiny bite marks that actually dented the armor with indents.

"Ms. Kronos did asked what and where is this place as I asked what was the last thing she recalled was falling from Olympic while trying to hide her child but as she spoke, it seem to cause her abdominal pain that seem to be PTSD related." Alfred said to which batman nod knowing that Alfred would never lied to him.

Part 3 << >> Part 5

[medicaregate]

Chronic Abdominal Pain

Chronic abdominal pain (CAP) is one of the most common complaints seen in primary-care clinics, subspecialty, and gastroenterology clinics.

The diagnosis and management of chronic abdominal pain is often a difficult due to its wide causes and poor sensitivity of history and physical examination of the patients.

Chronic abdominal pain is defined as pain that lasts more than three months.

The leading causes of chronic abdominal pain are: –

Functional gastrointestinal disorders (FGIDs).

Disorders of gut-brain interaction, such as irritable bowel syndrome (IBS), functional dyspepsia (FD), and centrally mediated abdominal pain syndrome (CAPS).

In many patients, abdominal pain can be associated with: –

Constipation or diarrhea.

Bloating or a sensation of increased abdominal pressure with or without visible distention.

Heartburn, regurgitation, nausea, and chronic cough may be suggestive of GERD.

Patients presenting with epigastric pain, melena, or black, tarry stool, is a sign of an upper gastrointestinal bleed and may be a sign of peptic ulcer disease.

Hematochezia is more common in lower gastrointestinal bleeding and may occur in people who have abdominal pain due to ischemia or inflammation.

Hepatomegaly, clay-colored stools, scleral icterus and tea-colored urine are all signs of hepatobiliary or pancreatic pathology.

A thorough medical history and comprehensive physical examination are the first steps in the diagnostic evaluation of a patient with chronic abdominal pain.

The history should focus on eliciting the pain description, location, quality, intensity and radiation, as well as exacerbating and alleviating factors.

An in-depth review of systems should be performed to identify concomitant symptoms that may provide indications to the underlying diagnosis.

Antispasmodic medications are frequently used to treat the symptoms of abdominal pain.

Antispasmodic treatment comprises a wide variety of therapeutic classes with different mechanisms of action

The finding of an underlying cause will also influence how chronic abdominal pain is treated.

Standard medical management should be used to treat any identified causes.

Read more at: https://medicaregate.com/chronic-abdominal-pain-causes-symptoms-and-treatments/

[urie]

my sister would have wanted me to politicize her death so that is exactly what i will do here.

on december 28th, my sister went to the hospital due to severe abdominal pain that she attributed to a UTI. they did a CT scan and found a 14cm tumor. they diagnosed her with stage 4 ovarian cancer and told her to start seeing specialists. for reasons unbeknownst to me, they didn't do a biopsy, or even attempt to schedule one for her, and she went home.

she spent the next 5 weeks being turned in circles by various specialists. the first oncologist told her that she would be fine, that she was young (only 42) and otherwise healthy, and she "wasn't going anywhere anytime soon." however, she could not afford the biopsy that was needed at the time, because she didn't have insurance. the out of pocket cost was too high, and there wasn't an option to be billed later.

these oncologists told her that her best bet was to quit her job and apply for medicaid in order to receive care, but my sister was a normal everyday person living paycheck to paycheck, and that was an impossible request. even if she did quit her job, she would still need to wait to be approved by medicaid.

she called my father on friday, in tears because she was just told by the hospital that she needed to come up with $800 upfront for a PET scan, a 20% downpayment. he had to scrounge up the money to pay for the scan himself.

on monday morning, she woke up with abdominal pain, vomiting, and loss of bowel control. she decided to stay home from work, something she never did, and her roommate offered to stay home with her in order to look after her.

her response: "no, we can't afford for both of us to miss work. i'll just take a shower and go back to sleep."

he came home and she was dead. 5 weeks after diagnosis. she was told she had years but she had a matter of days.

this was her final post on facebook, 2 days before she died. this is literally just the reality of how healthcare works in this country. and she'd want people to know that.

she was a good person doing what was expected of her, she was proactive and aggressive trying to get care, and this is what happened to her. no one gave her care, or tried to help her understand her diagnosis. they just would pat her on the back and say she was going to be fine, without knowing anything, and while refusing to find out.

[xseffort45]

Here's a list of common signs and symptoms associated with the deficiency of each electrolyte:

Low Sodium (Hyponatremia):

Headache

Nausea and vomiting

Fatigue and weakness

Confusion or altered mental state

Seizures

Muscle cramps or spasms

Swollen hands and feet (edema)

Low blood pressure

Rapid heart rate

Low Potassium (Hypokalemia):

Muscle weakness or cramps

Fatigue

Constipation

Irregular heart rhythm (arrhythmia)

Tingling or numbness

Weakness or paralysis (in severe cases)

Increased thirst

Abdominal cramping or bloating

Low blood pressure

Low Calcium (Hypocalcemia):

Muscle cramps or spasms

Numbness or tingling in hands, feet, or face

Weak or brittle nails

Tooth decay

Osteoporosis (bone loss)

Tetany (muscle twitching or spasms)

Confusion or memory problems

Depression or irritability

Abnormal heart rhythms

Low Magnesium (Hypomagnesemia):

Muscle cramps or twitches

Tremors or shaking

Muscle weakness

Fatigue

Irregular heartbeat

Nausea and vomiting

Loss of appetite

Personality changes

Seizures (in severe cases)

Low Chloride (Hypochloremia):

Muscle weakness

Excessive sweating

Irregular heart rhythms

Dehydration

Confusion or changes in mental status

Nausea and vomiting

Diarrhea

Hyperventilation (rapid breathing)

Low Bicarbonate (Hypobicarbonatemia):

Deep and rapid breathing

Confusion or disorientation

Weakness or fatigue

Dizziness or lightheadedness

Nausea and vomiting

Headache

Coma (in severe cases)

Low Phosphate (Hypophosphatemia):

Muscle weakness

Fatigue

Bone pain or tenderness

Difficulty breathing

Loss of appetite

Irritability

Confusion or altered mental status

Abnormal heart rhythms

Signs and symptoms of low electrolytes can vary depending on which specific electrolyte is deficient. If you suspect an electrolyte imbalance, it's essential to seek medical evaluation and diagnosis to determine the underlying cause and receive appropriate treatment.

[farfromstrange]

Enduring | Matt Murdock x AFAB!Reader

Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x afab!Reader

Warnings: Angst, chronic (lower abdominal) pain, mentions of spotting (blood), self-loathing, allusions to Doctors Not Listening To Patients With A Uterus, health anxiety (warranted), non-sexual intimacy, hurt/comfort, self-indulgent, not proof-read

Summary: You’ve been experiencing chronic lower abdominal pain for years regardless of the point in your menstrual cycle. Some days, it’s worse than others, but when the first heatwave of the year hits New York City and you have another flare-up, your day takes a sudden turn for the worse. Thankfully, Matt is there to comfort you in any way he can.

WC: 3k

A/n: Even though I tagged my tag list, don't read if this could be triggering to you! So, I know pain is a very sensitive subject and everyone experiences it differently. I used my personal experience with pain and chasing a diagnosis to write this. That doesn’t mean it’s the only experience. Lower abdominal pain can have many causes, which is why advice from a medical professional is often necessary. That being said, I know how hard it can be to have been born into a female body and be treated like my pain is worth less for whatever reason just because I was born female. There is no shame in standing up for yourself in a man’s world that completely disregards women’s health. I had to learn it the hard way to the point it has taken a toll on my mental health, so I just needed to write a little comfort piece for my own peace of mind before my appointment on Monday. I wrote this for the sake of getting it out of my system, meaning it’s probably not perfect, but if you can relate to what I said in any way, feel free to read it and make up your own mind. (I will not be posting this on AO3 for now. I hope you can forgive me for that.)

Matt always knows when something is wrong with you. 

Sometimes, he can smell it. Other times, it’s the way you taste when you kiss him or the sweat that clings to your skin, or when he goes down on you and your essence is slightly tangier than it was the day before. 

Matt knows when you’re ovulating because the changes in your hormones make him go crazier than he already is for you, and he is familiar with the metallic scent of blood when you’re on your period. He can tell when you start sweating more often, when your muscles tense up more than usual, or when you are slightly more emotional. He knows before you even do because he has to. 

You are miserable almost every day, really, but more often than not it happens around the time of your period. So, he pays close attention to the signs. When the painkillers stop working, or when you get more tired, or when you stop moving around as much. When you tell him you’re fine even though he can feel the muscles of your abdomen tensing under his touch when he hugs you. When he can tell you have been crying and he wasn’t there to help. He has to know because you need him. 

You’re not entirely dependent on him, of course; you have lived on your own before and while it was hell, you pushed through somehow. With him, you don’t have to be alone on the days you can’t get out of bed because the pain keeps you locked in a fetal position, or on the days you have to cower on the bathroom floor until you’re too weak to move. Matt has reached a point of knowing you where his four working senses don’t play much of a role in telling what kind of a day you’re having; he just knows. 

Tonight, he senses it when he comes through the door after work, finally escaping the raging heat from the streets that made him feel like he was dying on the commute home. He instantly loosens his tie to get some air into his lungs, feeble fingers working desperately to free himself, but it doesn’t take a second longer for him to realize something is wrong. It is nothing but a mere hunch—some kind of aura that emits from somewhere in the apartment that makes the hairs on his arms stand up. He calls your name, frantically searching for your heartbeat. Through the rattling of the fridge as it tries to keep up with the rising temperatures inside, he makes out the rapid drumming of your heart against your ribcage. If you’re not dizzy yet, he thinks, you soon will be. 

Upon hearing you huff from the kitchen floor, Matt doesn’t hesitate tossing his bag mindlessly into the nearest corner, followed by his keys before he makes his way to find you. He’s overheated, itchy, and sweating through his clothes, but not anywhere near as desperate as he is to get to you. 

“Sweetheart?” he asks.

Hearing the sound of his voice, you realize that what felt like five minutes must have been hours spent on the cool kitchen floor. You can’t even remember how you got there. The hours have blended into minutes, the tiles digging into your sweat-coated skin. You’re curled up in a ball, wearing nothing but one of Matt’s loosest shirts. You couldn’t stand the feeling of a waistband around your stomach, so you took your pants off, changing into the oldest pair of cotton underwear you could find. It’s all soaked by now, and part of you wonders if you did finally get your period or if your pores just decided to drench you for the fun of it. 

Everything hurts. Your muscles are tense, yet at the same time they are so incredibly weak, you don’t react when the front door opens. He’s worried, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. It is as though the pain has made you entirely apathetic, coiling in your lower stomach and spreading into your legs like a parasite. All you can do is succumb to it. 

Matt’s feet come into view. The purple cast of the billboard outside falls upon him, painting the shadow of a halo above his head. It’s ironic, really; the man you love as your knight in shining armor, a Catholic looking like an angel in artificial neon light. 

His gentle voice reaches for you, “What’re you doing on the floor?”

He doesn’t ask if you’re okay because he knows it is futile, but even that question you don’t know how to answer. What are you doing on the dirty kitchen floor?

You clear your throat, trying to sound nonchalant when you answer, “It’s too hot up there.”

He crouches down. “Just too hot?”

You sigh. “No.”

It was a good day until it wasn’t, and then you were in pain again and all the days you spent feeling a little more like yourself are suddenly gone with the wind. The tears wrap a noose around your neck for the second time today, your eyes burning with faint resistance. Every time you think it gets better, it gets worse again. And every time you try to pretend that maybe things are looking up for you and it isn’t as endless of a pit as you thought, the exact opposite proves itself. You’re tired; you’re in pain and you’re tired and you feel so silly for letting it dim the light Natt pointed out a few days ago that he had so deeply missed, but there is only so much hope you can have.  

This isn’t the first time he has found you like this, but it truly never gets easier. Hearing the strain in your voice, the quiver in your entire being as you try to catch your breath, telling yourself not to fucking cry. It never gets easier to know how much you beat yourself up for something that isn’t your fault. Because the doctors that were supposed to listen failed you, and now the road to relief is paved with bricks you can barely climb over. You are on your way now, finally, but the future is still not certain. In the end though, what kills him the most is that he can’t help you. 

Matt reaches out, his hand shaking as he aimlessly brushes his fingers over your forehead. “Cramps?” he says.

You nod weakly. 

“Since when?”

“I don’t know,” you confess, and that is when the glass overflows. 

With a click of his tongue, he wipes the first of your tears away. His brown eyes bore into your soul, completely bare in front of him. Your body is like a complex crafted melody only he knows how to decipher.  

The tears quickly form a barrier between you and the tiles. Matt tilts his head. The faintest hint of copper clings to your skin. “Did you get your period?” he asks. 

You shake your head. “Just… some spotting.”

“Explains the blood.”

He is way too nonchalant about it, you think. The way he accepts your version of normal even though you feel like a failure trapped in a body that refuses to work like it is supposed to.

“How’d you get here?” he asks again, his voice so soft you want nothing more than to hide your face from him and cry some more. 

He refuses to let you go, gripping your chin to the point it almost hurts. “I was trying to do the dishes and then–” a broken sob gets stuck in your throat. “It hurts and it’s hot, and I can’t breathe.”

He gently cradles your face in his hands. “I know,” he says like he can read your mind. And maybe he can.

Your chest heaves with every breath you take. “I couldn’t stand anymore, so I laid down. On the floor,” you tell him. “I just… I didn’t get anything done today.”

“Doesn’t matter.” 

“It does. I–”

He cuts you off, “No, sweetie, it doesn’t. I can wash the dishes, but I can’t replace you.”

His dedication hurts. You used to be called sensitive and not worth the drama, but with him, you count, and that hurts because you are barely hanging on by a fragile thread. You don’t know how to ever give back to him what he has given you. The countless nights you patched him up after he got his ass handed to him do not seem to matter much compared to what he does for you. 

He studies your erratic heartbeat for a moment. “You want a heating pad?” he offers. 

You physically cringe at the thought of a hot water bottle when the entire city could function as one, and you are quick to deny, “Too hot.”

Matt chuckles. “Yeah, I figured.” He brushes a damp strand of hair away from your face. “Have you taken anything yet? Advil? Naproxen?”

You growl. “You know none of the pills they gave me fucking work!” 

He doesn’t seem deterred by your tone. All he does is smile softly at you, fingers tracing invisible patterns on your skin.

“I know,” he says. “I’m just trying to help.”

“Well, nothing’s helping,” you retort. 

“That why you’re lying on the floor?” 

Another tear rolls down your cheek and past your cracked lips. “I told you. Nothing helps.”

Snapping at him for only trying to care may be petty of you, but there is nothing you loathe more than feeling so utterly helpless. 

Matt moves closer, your words pearling off of him like he is made of stone. He doesn’t even flinch. 

“Okay,” he murmurs. “Can I try something else?”

The voice in your head is screaming, what else is there to do? You are tired of trying everything and nothing ever working. Two more weeks until you will meet with a new doctor, but those two weeks might actually kill you. That’s what it feels like, anyway. 

He sighs, “C’mere.” Without another word from you, Matt slides his arms under your sticky frame and lifts you off the ground. His skin offers a stark contrast from the cold kitchen tiles, but he’s clean, and he smells like home. Not this place, not this city, but him. 

“Where are we going?” you ask.

“Bathroom,” is all he tells you. 

Your brain is too slow to even dare protest. He carries you to the bathroom, setting you down on unsteady legs. 

“May I?” he asks. You nod, but even as he pulls his shirt over your head, he doesn’t once let go of you. 

You close your eyes. The pain in your abdomen is dull yet searing. You try to focus on anything else, but just when you think it’s getting better, it breaks through again, burning through you like a wildfire on the blade of a hot knife. And that makes you sad. It makes you so sad and angry you don’t know what to do with yourself. You want to scream and cry and tear the apartment apart, but you’re exhausted and tired and you know that if this pain keeps rippling through you, you might fall apart. 

You hate when he sees you like this. When you’re falling apart and there’s nothing either of you can do, and you blame yourself even though there is nothing to blame yourself for. Matt knows that. You sometimes wonder if you are a burden to him and he just won’t tell you because he doesn’t know when to stop. To stop caring, to stop helping, to stop trying to change everything. But then again, he has always told you that loving you isn’t a burden. If you get lost in the what ifs, you might actually fall apart.    

“I’m gonna start a cool bath,” Matt murmurs next to you, snapping you out of your thoughts with his gentle baritone of a voice. “Just stay here.” 

You nod weakly, too exhausted to argue. The thought of immersing yourself in cool water, even for a few minutes, seems like a small mercy. 

Water starts to run in the distance. His belt hits the floor, followed by the fabric clinging to his skin. You’re afraid you might get dizzy if you open your eyes. Dizzy because of the pain. Dizzy because of him. 

The cabinet behind you rattles when he reaches for it. “Claire gave them to me, but you took these before,” he says, skillfully working on the cap of an orange capsule. “They’re a bit stronger than Advil.”

You don’t protest, you simply let him place one of the pills in the palm of your hand. He is right behind you with his hand on your waist when you take them, swallowing with a handful of water. There’s nothing sexual in the way he touches you, just a tenderness born from years of knowing each other’s bodies inside and out. 

Maybe that is why you could never be a burden to him; he has felt like one for most of his life, and the last thing he wants is for his love to feel the same way. And he needs you to remind him that he is everything to you, too, his hands never wavering when they find your skin. You’re his lifeline as much as he is yours.

The cold water hits the inside of the bathtub, pattering down like raindrops on a windowpane. Matt gently tugs you closer to him and guides you toward the tub. At first, when he lifts you in, the cool water is a shock to your overheated skin, but it doesn’t take long for you to welcome the change in temperature. 

He eases you between his legs once he is sat, your back against his chest, wrapping his arms around you. His hands come to rest on your lower stomach, close enough to allow you to pull your legs up to your chest. It’s the only position that doesn’t hurt. 

You remember nights spent crammed in the same position, not because of you but because of his nightmares. The roles were reversed then. When it’s too hot outside, he needs the world on fire to burn a little less bright. Today, you finally realize what he must feel like on days like these. 

“How’s that?” he asks, his breath warm against your ear.

You nod. “Better,” you whisper. Better isn’t perfect, but the pain is just dull now, and the gentle movement of his fingers against your sore muscles lulls you into a state where you can breathe. It’s not perfect, but it is as good as it gets. 

Your head falls back against his collarbone. “Thank you,” your voice is barely above a whisper when you tell him.

He shushes you, lips moving to your temple. The gesture is supposed to say, don’t thank me. But it feels wrong not to. 

You lift your head enough to look at him, finally, your eyes fluttering open to look back into his hazel orbs. “Matt…” 

“Yeah?” he breathes. 

“I don’t know what I would do without you,” you confess. It’s a truth you’ve grappled with, the stark realization that his presence has become indispensable. It is a burden, to be loved so fiercely, as much as it is an addiction. Because a life without him seems like a sheer impossibility you don’t ever want to face again. 

Matt holds his lips against your skin, smiling. “Good thing you never have to find out, hm?”

You chuckle weakly. “You sure about that?”

“Mhm.”

“What if you get sick of me?”

“Then I’ll be sick of you for a few hours,” he says, “and you’ll be sick of me ‘til we’re not.”

Your eyes roam his face for any indication that he might not be telling the truth. “That easy?” you ask. 

He nods, fingers coming up to find your lips. He touches them for a moment, exploring the soft skin there. Instead of kissing you though, he halts.

“What?” You frown. 

Matt shakes his head. “Nothing. Just… You’re gonna be okay,” his voice is barely above a whisper. “I’ll make sure of that.”

A whimper breaks from your chest. He believes it wholeheartedly, but it is incredibly hard to hear it out loud because you don’t believe it. You press your lips together, trying to hold back the tears that threaten to spill over again. “I just wish it didn’t have to be this way,” you whisper. “I wish I could be… normal.”

Again, he nods, fingers brushing over your cheek to catch a stray tear. “You are normal,” he insists softly. “Your pain doesn’t make you any less. And ‘cause I know how strong you are, I know you’re gonna be okay.”

“Even if I’ll be ill for the rest of my life? Even if I–”

“Of course,” he stops you. “Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out. I promise. Not ‘even if’ but regardless of whether it’s endometriosis or… or something else. Your pain is a part of you, but it’s not all of you. I love all of you.”

There is no stopping the avalanche of tears that is forced down the hill by his words. They hit you harder than an arrow to the heart. 

You crack under the weight of your emotions. “I love you,” you whisper. Those three words mean the world, but they feel inadequate to describe what you feel. 

“I know,” says Matt. “I love you too.”

The once open wounds of the blood you shed just to find him are nothing but scars now—scars you can learn how to live with once you accept that there is nothing wrong with you. Being a human being with an illness, both mentally and physically, doesn’t make you any less worthy of love. It doesn’t make you any less worthy of life. 

With Matt by your side, you are no longer alone in this. You have him, all of him, and that makes all the difference. 

Matt Murdock (Angst) Tag List: @acharliecoxedfan @gpenguin666 @itwasthereaminuteago @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @thychuvaluswife @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @thatonegamefish @amberritonicole @pigeonmama @bohemianrhapsody86 @a-gir1-has-n0-name @winkev1 @callsign-ember @chittaphonstar @buckyyyismahhlife @trublu2u @xnatyx @zomtart @abucketofweird

Also tagging: @moncherriis

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

BG3 Companions (& Halsin) Realizing That Their GN! Tav Might Have PMDD

Characters: GN! Reader! Tav; Astarion; Gale; Wyll; Shadowheart; Karlach; Lae’zel; Halsin

Pairing(s): None, but it’s written as All Companions x Tav so if you have a romanced companion you prefer, you can imagine they have most of Tav’s favor. 

A/N: This is a highly indulgent imagine that absolutely NO ONE asked for (besides me lol) but I felt compelled to write it because I’ve been really struggling lately with some extreme PMS symptoms for the last few months or so. I don’t have a PMDD diagnosis yet or anything, but in looking up my symptoms I read about it and wanted to write this comfort piece for it. I kept Tav as gender-neutral as possible in this, but they do have a very active and very angry uterus in this.

TW: Discussion of Menstruation (Bleeding, Cramps/ Abdominal Pain), PMS, and PMDD Symptoms (Including Depression & Thoughts of Suicide) [Note: No one actually says ‘PMDD’, or Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder but that is the syndrome implied]; Brief Mentions of Sex (also small text)

Word Count: 3.7k

“Have any of you seen Tav lately?” Astarion asked, coming to sit next to a handful of his fellow companions seated around their camp’s fire. 

“Why? Has something else gone wrong?” Shadowheart teased back from where she lay against a log, a goblet of half-drunk wine in her hand. “Or perhaps, you’re looking for a bite to eat?” 

“Ha-ha,” Astarion mock laughed. “‘Bite,’ because I’m a vampire, how hilarious Shadowheart.” 

“I don’t know Astarion,” Gale countered from where he was perched on the other side of the former Sharran devotee, “I’d wager you secretly found it rather punny.” 

“Ugh,” Astarion wrinkled his nose at Gale’s words, failing to hide the amused smile that graced his lips. “Honestly Gale, as if the orb isn’t enough.”

Astarion, having lost interest in sitting next to his companions, settled for standing, crossing his arms, and jutting out one hip in his signature semi-annoyed pose.

“Come now Astarion, you can’t say Gale’s love for language comes as a surprise,” Wyll joined the conversation, sheathing his blade after having used Lae’zel’s whetstone to sharpen it. “Why I’d wager even Lae’zel can attest that in the farthest reaches of the Githyanki galaxy, the repetition of a wizard’s sharpened tongue precedes them.” 

Lae’zel huffed affirmatively, taking the opportunity to sharpen her sword. “Tchk. The Blade is right. It is no secret that wizards cannot help but run their mouths.” 

Karlach, having been seated quite literally in the middle of the conversation, from where she lay next to the campfire flames, burst out laughing, sitting up with a start. 

Shadowheart and Astarion couldn’t help but chuckle as well. 

Lae’zel’s eyes glowered as she looked at her other companions. “I do not see the cause for such antics” 

“Yes! Thank you Lae’zel!” Gale spoke up, wagging a finger in protest at the display of his friends. “A wizard’s intellectual prowess is no laughing matter.” 

“That which you discuss has yet to be seen.” Lae’zel rebuffed Gale yet again. 

“Pfft!” Shadowheart nearly choked on her drink as Karlach resumed her boisterous laughter, Wyll joining in this time as well. 

“Enjoying a night of merriment, are we?” Halsin’s deep voice cut through the laughs, his large form coming into view as the Druid emerged from the tree line. Shirtless, and still dripping, his presence brought a warm air to the camp, despite the night’s chilled air. 

“We certainly are now,” Astarion purred, admiring the druid’s half-naked form. 

“Mhhm,” Shadowheart took another sip of her wine. “For once, Astarion,  I’d have to agree.” 

Completely comfortable in his nudity, and unintimidated by the other’s ogling, Halsin strutted confidently over to where his fellow companions had gathered around the fire. “I had just finished bathing when Tav came to the lakeside. Said they were going to take a bath to unwind before bed.” 

“I’m surprised they didn’t ask you to join them,” Astarion mused, eyes still raking up and down Halsin’s sculpted form. 

Halsin gave a half smirk at the compliment, but his mood remained subdued. “They seemed upset. I offered to stay with them, even just to chat, but they insisted they wished to be left alone.“ 

Frowning, Gale scanned the faces of his companions, looking for a negative reaction, finding a similar dower one had made its way across Wyll’s and Karlach’s features. 

Looking to Karlach for solidarity, Wyll spoke up first: “Has anyone noticed Tav to be much more despondent as of late?” 

Karlach nodded. “Yesterday as well. Hells, it’s so odd to see them so down in the dumps. They’re usually leading the charge in making sure the rest of us are happy.”

“Has something changed? Perhaps Raphael contacted them yet again?” Gale supposed. 

Shadowheart shook her head. “Not that I know of. Besides, even if he did, this feels too familiar to just be a coincidence.” 

Lae’zel resheathed her newly sharpened blade before stalking over to the Selunite priestess. “Tchk. If you have something to share ghustil, say it outright.” 

Shadowheart rolled her eyes at the quarrelsome nature of Lae’zel’s words but continued speaking nonetheless. “If I recall correctly, a similar thing happened a while back, a few weeks perhaps.” 

“Yes,” Wyll joined. “I remember Tav crying after one of our battles.” 

“Come now,” Gale countered. “That’s hardly a mystery. It’s completely understandable why they might break down every now and then. It’s been a hard few months, even for a leader as strong as Tav.” 

“Perhaps,” Wyll relented. “Although, I can’t recall Tav giving a specific reason for their meltdown.” 

“‘Reason’?” Asatrion scoffed. “How about the fact that we’re all infected with Mindflayer parasites which could hatch at any moment? On top of which we are expected to destroy this Absolute death cult, lest all of Baldur’s Gate be turned into a tentacle wasteland!” 

“It is enough to make one’s blood run cold.” Gale agreed. 

“I do think Shadowheart may have a point.” Halsin put his two cents in. “I do recall around two months ago, Tav coming to me for healing, relief for abdominal cramps.”

“Oh, well that settles it, doesn’t it? It’s merely that ‘time of the month’, rather unfortunate and annoying, but hardly devastating for our capable leader.” Astarion sounded unconvinced, as he looked down to admire his recently shaped fingernails. 

Halsin shook his head. “I sensed there was more they wished to request aid for. They were holding something back. What exactly and why, I am unsure.” 

“Maybe they’ve just got a tough go of it. I know my whole body was thrown entirely out of whack waking up in Avernus. It took years for me to feel like myself again.” Karlach gestured at her many scars as she did so. 

All the time, Lae’zel had been listening intensely, a curious look across her face. “What is this ‘time of the month’?” She repeated. “Is it another,” she paused, making sure to pronounce the following word right, “Tiefling trait?” 

Karlach shook her head. “We’re not exempt from it,” she replied honestly. “But no, it’s not just tieflings.” 

“You mean to tell me that female Githyanki don’t have periods?” Shadowheart asked, having thrown all her pretenses out along with the last of her wine. 

“As I have said before ghustil, we do not become parents through sex. When it is time, we are chosen by Vlaakith to lay the eggs of our young.” 

“And this, ‘egg-laying’, as you call it… it, isn’t um, gender specific?” Gale, ever the wizard, just had to know. 

“No. Sex is irrelevant. The only thing of importance is whether you are called by Vlaakith to bear that which houses her future children.” 

“... Right,” Gale answered, feeling rather queasy. “I think that’s all I’d like to know if you don’t mind.”  

“Can we please get back to the point?” Astarion interrupted, rather impatient. “Tav is spiraling or having a mental breakdown or something, and apparently, only the Cleric and Druid noticed, how cliche.” 

 “Alright, Astarion. What do you suggest?” Wyll asked. 

“Well, obviously we need to find out what’s wrong with them so we can fix it.” 

“If it is this ‘time-of-month’, then why not stop it before it comes? You know when it nears, why not strike it down before it starts?” Lae’zel suggested, still not fully understanding what a ‘period’ was for a human. 

“That may not solve all the difficulties Tav is experiencing.” Halsin finally pulled his shirt back over his head, much to the others' collective disappointment. “There is more, although I am uncertain if I should share it, as Tav shared it with me in confidence.” 

“If it could help us help Tav, perhaps it is best to share this once?” Gale suggested. “Normally, I’m not one for shifting loyalties, but I too, have some things I think it’s better I share with the group.” 

“Now that you mention it, I do recall Tav saying something off-color last night,” Astatrion added. 

“What did they say?” Karlach asked.

“They mentioned they had been feeling rather down. Really down. So down, that they, well…” Astarion gave an exasperated huff, clearly uneasy with the topic. “...Tav said that sometimes, they feel like giving up.” 

“What did you tell them?” Wyll asked, encouraging Astarion to go on. 

“I said of course they feel like that! I mean who wouldn't? Between the Mindflayer parasites, the constant goblin attacks, the thieves, and the looming threat of this Absolute Cult, who wouldn't want to lie down for a few hundred years or so?” 

“I must admit, Tav’s confession to me a few months back was similar in nature,” Gale attested. “They expressed how defeated they felt as if nothing they did mattered. All the battles, all the small victories, it didn’t change anything. The Absolute was still going strong, the threat of the world’s end still looming… They asked me if any of it was worth it.” 

Halsin nodded. “I fear I was told more of the same. Tav divulged that they sometimes wondered if I, if we, would fare better on our journey without them.”

A silence fell over the companions, a cerebral, unsettling kind of silence, the kind one could feel resonating, laden within one's bones. 

“Shit,” Karlch said, the first to speak. “I mean, I knew they were upset sometimes, but I just figured we all were.” 

“Halsin,” Shadowheart started, gently. “When Tav told you they thought we’d be better off without them, what did you say?” 

“I embraced them and told them that in no uncertain terms, we needed them to lead us. I reminded Tav how amazing they are, and how, even though they themselves cannot see it, they are truly a marvel to behold. I expressed gratitude for them saving The Grove, for making peace between the tieflings and the druids.”

Wyll nodded along to Halsin’s words, recalling all that he and Tav had managed to accomplish together in such a short time, despite all the odds stacked against them. 

Halsin cleared his throat, swallowing down an ardent wave of emotion that threatened to escalate before he continued: “Lastly, I told them how I felt about them, how we all felt about them, and that should they ever require reminding, they need only ask.” 

From where he stood, Astarion sulked, a guilty expression making its way across his face. “I, I didn’t know. Godsdammit! I should have seen…”

“You cannot blame yourself Astarion.” Halsin did his best to assure his pale elf friend. “Even with Tav’s confession, I fear I did not heed their words the way I should have. Perhaps if I connected the dots more quickly, if I recorded the dates of their depressive episodes, we could have come to this conclusion weeks ago.” 

“What conclusion is that exactly?” Lae’zel enquired. “You say it is not this ‘time-of-month’, and yet, you make no other claims. What cause do you reference?” 

“It’s rare, but sometimes it happens that a human’s reproductive organs seemingly conspire against them,” Gale answered. “Well, more than is to be expected, I should clarify.” 

“Ah. So it is inferior istik reproductive organs to blame for our dear leader’s shakiness. Then perhaps they need be cut out.” 

“Lae’zel!” Gale gasped. 

Lae’zel crossed her arms as if to say ‘what’? 

“It needn’t come to that,” Halsin cut in, diffusing the situation. “That is not to say it’s not a possibility, but only in the most dire and extreme cases.” 

“Yes,” Shadowheart agreed. “And despite my being a cleric and Halsin being a druid, neither one of us is qualified for such procedures.” 

Lae’zel took a moment to process their words. “Indeed, I see. In that case, it is wise that that scalpel-wielding bard is not currently accompanying us. Vlaakith knows his surgical skills are nothing more than mere talk, given his removal of Tav’s eye.” 

“... Is that a joke?” Astarion asked, dumbfounded at Lae’zel’s choice of deadpan delivery amid such a dire discussion.   

“Do not look so surprised shka'keth, I am considered most humorous amongst my people.” 

“You know what?” Wyll butt in, “That, I do believe.” 

 Astarion scoffed. “Well, perhaps, Lae’zel could use her humor to cheer Tav up. Unless any of you have any other ideas?” 

“I think perhaps it would be better for us to sit Tav down for a heart-to-heart. Remind them how much they mean to us.” The Blade of Frontiers did not beat around the bush. 

“I agree,” Halsin seconded. “Perhaps the message coming from us all would be better received than it was coming from me alone.” 

“It’s worth a try,” Karlach agreed. “Gods know we care about them. And there’s no way we would have gotten this far without them.” 

“The tiefling is right. Tav may be istik, but they are still our leader.” Lae’zel spoke up, roused by her companions' sudden ire. “We have a duty to them to finish this, to cleanse these parasites from our bodies and destroy The Absolute.”

Shadowheart sighed, before righting herself and walking over to Lae’zel’s side. “If Lae’zel’s in, then I might as well join. Wyll, what about you? Up for an intervention?” 

Wyll looked at Karlach, catching her eye. Following a triumphant smirk from Karlach, the duo nodded their respective affirmations before joining Halsin, Astarion, Lae’zel, and Shadowheart where they stood. 

And that just left…

“Gale? Care to join us? Or will you be too busy pinning over your ex-goddess girlfriend?” Astarion ribbed. 

Gale shook his head, Astarion’s antics not being a new experience for him at all. 

“I’m not pining, and, even if I were, Tav is much more important at the moment. Why, in fact,” Gale’s voice got quieter, more serious, “Some nights I fear I would give up The Weave, hells, even eternity if it meant Tav would be happy.” 

No one else said anything in response, they didn't need to. It was clear to all of them, that they all loved Tav deeply, even on the days, or weeks Tav couldn't find any love for themselves. 

“Do you think Tav would be done bathing by now? Not that I’d mind getting a little peak, though I’m not sure how they’d feel about that.” Astarion mused. 

“Astarion,” Wyll warned.

“I’m only kidding. Mostly.” 

“I’m sure they’ll be back shortly. Let us prepare what we wish to say so that when they do arrive-” Halsin started, but was cut off by a rustling coming from just beyond the treeline. 

“Wait,” Tav’s voice cut through the air, a welcome bit of color amidst an otherwise chilly night, “Who’s arriving?” 

“Tav!” The companions turned in shock, feeling sheepish, as if they had just been caught in the act. 

“We were hoping you’d return soon,” Shadowheart admitted. 

“There are some things we’d like to discuss,” Gale added. 

Tav pinched the bridge of their nose. “Dammit Astarion, did you go around trying to bite everyone again? We’ve talked about this.” They let out an exasperated sigh. 

“What? Why-?! How dare you accuse me of such a thing!” Astarion puffed his chest up, making himself appear larger. “I’ll have you know we were actually discussing-” 

“We’re worried about you soldier,” Karlach interrupted Astarion’s indignant outburst. “We see how hard this has been on you, on all of us.” 

“We want you to know,” Wyll continued the sentiment for her, “That we care about you. And whatever hardships you endure, we’ll endure them with you.” 

“Oh.” 

Their companion’s words stopped Tav dead in their tracks. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know. And um, that’s really sweet of you. It’s just,” Tav frowned, “How do I put this? Um… As far as The Absolute and the Mindflayers are concerned, I’m grateful for your help, I am, really. But there are just some things that are-”

“Private,” Astarion finished for Tav. He walked over to Tav, before lowering his voice, speaking only to them. “I think you know,” he whispered, his expression suddenly melancholy, “Better than anyone, why each one of us knows how you feel.” 

And with that, the damn burst, Tav simply couldn't hold it in any longer. 

Their face contorted. They bit their lip before their mouth turned upside down, their nose wrinkled, and their eyes began to water. 

“It’s just been so hard!” Tav cried, their own voice barely more than a whisper. “And just when I think things are okay, that I’m finally better, it all just comes crashing down around me again!” Tav sobbed, their arms dropping to their sides in defeat. 

Moving to comfort them, Astarion placed a tentative hand on their shoulder, gently patting Tav with a ‘there-there’. His eyes darted back to his companions, a begging, uncomfortable look evident on his face. 

Karlach moved first, coming to Tav’s side opposite Astarion. Despite her engine being temporarily fixed, she knew her skin was still hot to the touch. Still, Karlach hoped her closeness would be its own comfort. 

“We’ve got you soldier.” Karlach wrapped the end of her tiefling tail around Tav’s calf. “Just let it all out, it’s okay.” 

Tav sobbed even harder at her words, pulling a rather flustered Astarion in for a tight embrace. 

“Ah. A little help over here!” Astarion whispered harshly past Tav’s ear, their face wedged between his arms and chest, and their tears and snot beginning to dampen his shoulder. 

Shadowheart chuckled, amused that despite him being such a flirt when he wanted, Astaron was still rather unfamiliar with the more platonic, or should she say, non-sexual forms of intimacy. “Step aside.”

Moving over to the huddle sandwich that was Astarion, Tav, and Karlach, Shadowheart wedged her way in between Astarion and Tav. “Just try not to drool too much on my top. It is leather after all.” 

“Tchck, Shadowheart.” Lae’zel chided. She walked over to the huddle, standing a safe six inches away, her arms crossed and brows furrowed. “Clothes are meaningless compared to a fellow soldier.” 

“I’m surprised I find myself agreeing, but Shadowheart, Lae’zel does have a point,” Gale concluded. “Tav’s emotional state is much more important than any item of clothing, or inanimate object.” 

“Says the wizard who eats shoes,” Astarion ribbed from under his breath. 

Gale clicked his tongue at the vampire spawn’s remark, but otherwise paid his pale companion no mind. 

“Besides,” Gale continued, undeterred. “I can always do another load of laundry. Should you ever need a shoulder to cry on, know that mine will always be available, tears or otherwise.” 

Tav nodded, enthusiastically grateful, switching from Shadowheart’s shoulder to Gale’s. 

Sighing, as the cool purple velvet rubbed against their cheek, Tav began to slow their breathing, gaining better control of the sobs that had previously uncontrollably wracked their body. 

“We may not know exactly what it is you’re going through, but that doesn’t make you any less of a leader worthy of our time and affection,” Wyll spoke up as he came to join the hug pile. “And sharing your fears and sadness does not make you a burden, it makes you strong.” 

Tav wailed once more, nodding emphatically as they did so. Deep down, they knew all that their friends had shared to be true, but they were not able to convince themselves of it on their own. 

“And if this sadness of yours comes at the same time every month, it may indicate a hormonal condition. Should that be the case, there are many treatments and spells we can cast to ease your pain.” 

“Really?” Tav asked through sniffles. 

“Indeed,” Halsin nodded, having walked over to also join his gathered companions. “Although there is something simpler, something I always have readily available.” 

“Don’t you dare—” Astarion started. 

At the same time Lae’zel spoke her own words of protest: “Do it druid, and you may very well live to regret it.” 

Tav ignored their outbursts and instead asked Halsin what he had in mind. 

“This,” he said, before outstretching his arms and encompassing everyone in a great big bear hug. 

Squished between their dear companions, their friends, their allies in this fight, and the next, Tav, for the first time in days, began to feel truly loved. 

The world may have looked bleak and hopeless, and with a raging uterus, it may have looked even more so, but as long as Tav had their friends, they would never know true defeat. 

…

Squashed between an equally irate Githyanki and a rather sentimental wizard, Astarion wriggled, trying to break free, but to no avail. Turning his head left to face his frog-esque friend, Astarion whispered threats under his breath.  

“I say the next time he wildshapes into a bear, we put a pretty pink collar around his neck and march him into town as punishment.”

“Chk. I find that offer rather agreeable.” 

“I dunno. I rather like this kind of medicinal approach.” Karlach said, feeling overjoyed to simply be touched. 

“You know he can hear you, right?” Wyll, ever the pragmatist, spoke from across the expanse of Halsin’s broad chest in order to address Astarion. 

Halsin nodded in the affirmative upon hearing Wyll’s words.

Astarion groaned. “Well, clearly he has now!” 

“And here I thought vampires were stealthy.” Shadowheart teased. 

“Oh, trust me, darling, all of your times shall come. Count on it!” 

“Astarion?” Tav‘s muffled voice asked from where their face was squished into Gale’s chest. 

Tav managed to pull their head away from Gale’s purple robe just long enough to give Astarion their best puppy-dog-eyed look. “Be nice? Pleaseeee?” They drew out the end of the ‘please,’ innocently batting their eyes as they did so. 

“... Fine. But don’t get used to it,” Astarion resigned before tossing his hair. “I have a reputation to uphold.” 

“Mhhm,” Tav agreed, putting their face back against Gale’s velvet-covered chest. 

They knew this moment couldn’t last forever, and it certainly wouldn’t solve all their problems— mind flayers, hormones, or otherwise. But they could at least stay put like that for just a minute longer. 

Or as a matter of fact? Make that two. 

A/N 2.0: So there it is! I hope you enjoyed. This is definitely something I needed to read like two weeks ago, and also a month ago, and then the month before that lol. 

After this, we are back to our regularly scheduled programming. I will make an upcoming ask list, just so everyone is clear as to what is up and coming.

As always Please Like, but most importantly, REBLOG!!!

(Reblogs mean more than Likes because they project my work to a larger audience.)

And If you like my work, Consider Buying Me A Coffee <3. 

[nebuladreamerrr]

Holaaa can I request another Mbappe imagine where you’re married to Kylian but somehow his family never noticed that you don’t drink. While you’re at his parent’s house and his mom offers you wine you told her no thanks. And she got a mini heart attack thinking you were announcing that you’re pregnant😂

I hope you like it, sweetheart ❤️❤️❤️

Problematic beverage| Kylian Mbappé x Fem Reader

Summary: To commemorate you and Kylian's last night in France you decide to have a farewell dinner, but one drink will set off alarm bells among all the guests.

Warnings: English is not my first language, and I am not a doctor so some medical information might be wrong. 

As I indulged in a tranquil shower and meticulously selected my attire for the upcoming occasion, a sense of gratitude washed over me knowing that the celebration would be held at my mother-in-law's residence. While venturing out to explore new culinary delights with Kylian was a beloved pastime, today, the allure of a cozy night at home held greater appeal.

Since the morning, I had been grappling with slight abdominal discomfort, but it was the violent expulsion of my breakfast that sent alarm bells ringing. A sigh escaped my lips, a reflexive response to the familiar discomfort that had plagued me since childhood. From a young age, I had endured sporadic bouts of stomach pain, often coinciding with stressful events like ballet competitions or pivotal exams.

My mother, recognizing the pattern of discomfort over time and the occasional severity of the pain, decided to seek medical advice. It was then confirmed by the doctor that I was suffering from chronic pancreatitis. Fortunately, this diagnosis did not thwart my aspirations nor impede my plans. Nevertheless, there were limitations imposed by my condition, one of them being the prohibition of alcohol consumption.

I vividly recall the bewildered expression on my face when the doctor delivered the news that alcohol was off-limits due to its potential exacerbation of my condition. Despite having never partaken in revelry or imbibed alcohol, I comprehended its central role in youthful socialization. I anticipated feeling excluded and feared it would hinder my ability to forge friendships. However, fortune smiled upon me as I found companions who reveled in diverse activities, such as leisurely picnics punctuated by impromptu art sessions and beach outings adorned with sunset photography. While occasional forays into nightlife did occur, they were infrequent. Moreover, my aversion to alcohol transcended mere medical necessity; it stemmed from a profound apprehension regarding its transformative effects on individuals, a sentiment that prompted a steadfast commitment to abstention.

I crossed paths with Kylian at a charity gala where young French athletes, each with an inspiring tale to share, were invited to engage with children and organize activities, with the proceeds earmarked for various charitable causes. His speech resonated deeply with me, capturing both his pride and underlying sense of unease at being in the spotlight. His exact words, etched in my memory, were: "It's in these moments that I often feel out of place because, despite many of you seeking wisdom from me, it's I who must truly learn from all of you and your resilience in the face of adversity." Fortunately, I also captured his attention. When my presentation concluded, he couldn't resist approaching me, ostensibly to delve deeper into my world as we leisurely meandered through the buffet arrayed by the gala's organizers.

His heart nearly skipped a beat when I declined his offer of wine, yet my reassuring smile assuaged his concern as I disclosed my health condition, explaining the potential ramifications of alcohol consumption. Eager to learn more about me, Kylian exhibited a genuine interest in every facet of my life: from my ballet classes and training regimen to the nuances of my medication routine and anything remotely connected to me. Thus, a swift friendship blossomed between us, evolving into a profound romantic bond over the course of just a few months—a connection I wouldn't trade for anything in this world.

Four years ago, when we embarked on our relationship, we were both young and full of energy. Kylian, in particular, made the most of his free time by hanging out with friends, often leading to lively gatherings. Despite this, Kylian maintained a sense of discipline and restraint when it came to alcohol consumption. Instances of indulgence were typically reserved for national festivities or significant triumphs for his team or the national squad. However, everything changed when he met me. Suddenly, I became his top priority.

Kylian's transformation was profound. He meticulously documented all of my medications in a calendar, ensuring that I adhered to my prescribed regimen. If he couldn't be present when I needed to take my medication, he set an alarm to remind me. Additionally, he curtailed his social outings significantly, and on many occasions, he refused to attend events if I couldn't accompany him. When we did venture out together, our excursions were brief, as Kylian was adamant about not subjecting me to any discomfort.

On our wedding day, Kylian solemnly declared that his every decision would revolve around me, promising never to take any action that didn't prioritize my well-being above all else.

Thankfully, my illness never prevented me from attending any of Kylian's games. He cherished my presence, considering me his "lucky charm." It was through these matches that I had the pleasure of meeting my in-laws, whom Kylian introduced me to after one such game. As the Ligue 1 season progressed, so did my relationship with his parents, and I couldn't help but feel blessed by the bond we shared. Kylian's parents took immense pride in their son's career, and when I mentioned my occasional ballet performances, they eagerly pledged their attendance at my next show. This promise was fulfilled a few months ago when I took to the stage, greeted by the sight of my partner and his parents in the audience.

The decision to depart from France proved to be a challenging ordeal for both of us. It was a place that held significance for each of us individually; for Kylian, it was where he found trust and unwavering support, particularly during his darkest moments. Likewise, for me, it served as the backdrop for my personal and artistic growth, particularly in my beloved pursuit of ballet. However, I was acutely aware that leaving France would entail a narrowing of job prospects, given that few other nations accorded dance, especially ballet, the same level of priority.

Thus, when Kylian broached the idea of a modest gathering to mark the conclusion of a significant chapter in our lives, I couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation. Initially slated to unfold at a private restaurant in the heart of Paris, a venue Kylian frequented with his friends and where he once celebrated his maiden PSG paycheck, the plans swiftly shifted. Sensing my discomfort on the eve of the event, Kylian promptly altered course, opting instead to host the gathering at his mother's residence—a more proximate locale to our abode. Here, I could seek respite in the guest room if my discomfort intensified, shielded from any prying eyes or unwelcome scrutiny.

With a sense of urgency, I hastened to complete my preparations, summoning Kylian to assist with the delicate task of fastening the gray satin dress adorning my frame. His admiring whistle upon beholding me in the garment, accompanied by the endearing epithet "my beautiful woman," served to ignite a flutter of warmth within me, intensified by the tender kiss planted upon my collarbone.

As we stepped into my mother-in-law's abode, she greeted me with an exuberant embrace, sharing how she had procured my favorite appetizers and guiding me toward the others, while Kylian grumbled behind me, visibly "irritated" by his mother's preference for embracing me first. In response, I couldn't resist playfully sticking out my tongue.

Upon crossing the threshold onto the terrace, Kylian's friends extended warm welcomes. Kylian, ensuring my comfort and safety, opted to leave me engaged in a delightful conversation with Melissa and his mother.

"How are you, y/n? I was genuinely concerned when Kylian mentioned you weren't feeling well," Fayza remarked, her tone laden with worry.

"I've been better, but thankfully, at the moment, my discomfort is limited to stomach issues, so things are more or less manageable for now," I responded, seeking to allay their concerns.

"Well, y/n, do tell us. Have you managed to secure a place with any academy or instructor for your inaugural performance in Spain?" Melissa inquired eagerly.

"I've reached out to several, but I've had to turn down many options because they weren't the right fit for me. They seemed more interested in my relationship with Kylian than my craft. However, in recent days, I've connected with one that genuinely seemed invested in me, so let's hope this one pans out."

"Sweetheart, can I get you a glass of wine while you continue telling us about the move?" Fayza asked, retrieving a bottle from an ice bucket.

"No, it's okay. I can't have wine because of my condition," I replied with a smile, which quickly faded when I noticed everyone falling silent and Fayza dropping the bottle to the floor.

"When were you planning on telling us?" Ethan teased his brother.

"Telling us what, exactly?" Kylian asked, attempting to lock eyes with me for an explanation, but my cluelessness only heightened his concern.

"That y/n is pregnant," Fayza blurted out, barely able to overcome her shock.

"What?!" Kylian and I exclaimed, unable to shake off our bewilderment at his family's confusion.

"Yes, it all makes sense now: y/n's frequent vomiting, her occasional dizziness, her abdominal discomfort, and her abstaining from alcohol," Melissa exclaimed excitedly, envisioning her children having a cousin to play with.

"What? No, no, there's been a misunderstanding. I can't drink because of my illness, and Kylian and I... no, we're not planning for a baby right now," I explained nervously, seeking Kylian's confirmation of my statement.

"Exactly, as she said, for now, we won't know for three weeks," Kylian chimed in, attempting to lighten the mood with a joke, but his attempt fell flat when met with my glare of disapproval.

Gradually, the atmosphere returned to normal as Fayza apologized to both of us for her reaction. It wasn't that she didn't want grandchildren; she simply thought we had chosen to keep it a secret and would find out through the media when her son was abroad.

And so, we savored our final evening together, cherishing the memories to bring comfort in times of homesickness. However, Kylian couldn't help but hope that the next time we entered that house, it would be to announce a pregnancy.

[afusionoffandoms]

The symbol most associated with fibromyalgia is the butterfly, as well as the purple ribbon, since a butterfly despite being almost weightless can cause pain if it landed on a person with fibromyalgia.

Fibromyalgia (fibro) is a chronic and highly stigmatised condition that presents as pain throughout the body - often inconsistent both in strength and location as well as resistant to pain medication - along with a slew of other symptoms - mainly intense fatigue and cognitive dysfunction, in addition to headaches, abdominal pains and cramps, depression, insomnia and general hypersensitivity both to touch as well as the other senses.

These pains can be a draining inconvenience, or so crippling it robs the person of the ability to walk or function.

Due to lack of research, it's believed that anywhere between 2-6% of the population suffers from it.

Many people suffering from fibro will say they often wake up more tired and in more pain than they were in when they went to bed. Experts often describe it as the brain losing its ability filter out pains the human body constantly experiences throughout the day.

One thing known for certain is that it's triggered by stress. It can be something as simple as a bad divorce, or a surgery, or a bout of illness, to trauma (either microtrauma over time or one definitive event). Fibro patients will say it's as if their brain finally had enough and started striking. Unfortunately there's no going back once that happens, as there is no cure, and fibro is likely to progress and worsen over time.

It's an illness that can't be proven through samples or x-rays, but rather it's diagnosed when no other cause can be found, and all other treatments have proven unhelpful.

We have records dating all the way to ancient Greece about people whose symptoms today are assumed by experts to be caused by fibro, though it wasn't until the 1900s that the illness got its own name and field of study. That's about all it's gotten, however.

Unfortunately most people with the diagnosis are AFAB, which means the illness is subject to sexism and is often ignored in the medical field, resulting in little research and funding, little knowledge, and a lot of challenges for people suffering from it. Recent numbers suggest that the gender disproportion is far smaller than presumed, however, likely due to other factors such as social stigma keeping men from seeking help.

Interestingly there looks to be a large overlap between fibro symptoms and long covid, which has in recent years caught the interest of researchers, so it's likely that the world will understand the illness more in the future, which will hopefully help people with fibro sometime down the line.

If nothing else, it might finally be recognised as the life changing illness it is, for currently there are still doctors who claim it's not real, and refuse to diagnose and treat it, instead claiming people with fibro are just lazy and overly sensitive.

It's because of these things that global awareness days are so important.

Increasing awareness about this barely understood and largely unknown disease, makes life easier for those who suffer from fibromyalgia both directly through general knowledge and understanding from people around them, to a larger scale where funding and research is vital to perhaps one day find a medication or cure. Or at least find an indisputable way to diagnose it.

Please consider sharing this in order to help with just that. 💜 May your day be as painless as possible.

[macgyvermedical]

Be careful with that appendicitis thing, though. Not all pain on the right side can be attributed to appendicitis.

I was in the emergency room after a fall. The way they have the emergency room set up, there's little curtains between cubicles and you can hear everything. There was this boy who was 12-14 years old (he was in middle school) who was there because of a mystery sickness. They had him down in the testing area where I was getting my leg x-rayed and his father told me that they thought it was appendicitis so they were getting a scan.

Later on, the doctor came in there to talk to them. The boy had strep throat. They didn't think to take tests for Covid, flu, and strep before scaring the crap out of him that he was about to have surgery. They take ten minutes and don't require invasive and expensive tests.

You're right that not all right sided pain is appendicitis, but any abdominal pain with fever needs the more dangerous stuff (like appendicitis or a bowel blockage) ruled out before the less dangerous stuff (strep throat, viral gastroenteritis, etc...). Hopefully they kind of do everything at the same time (though tbh strep throat is way down on the list when abdominal pain is the presenting problem).

The options in the quiz are not specifically for appendicitis- they are for peritonitis, which is an inflammation in the sac around the abdominal organs. Appendicitis will cause peritonitis around where the appendix is, so if you can find peritonitis, and the pain is where the appendix usually is, it raises the suspicion for appendicitis.

Does it work every time? No. But it used to be that 9/10 times if the physical diagnosis techniques were saying appendicitis, it was appendicitis (that last time, oh well, you got a surgery you didn't need, but it was better than not getting a surgery you did, right?).

Today, generally, we don't really bother with as many physical diagnosis things (like finding peritonitis via abdomen jiggling), since we have powerful imaging technology that takes the guesswork right out of it. Could they have done some? Yes, and it might have helped rule appendicitis out. But likely for liability reasons they still would have had to do the scan, which means they still would have had to tell the kid and his father what they were doing the scan about.

[familydocblog]

Finding Relief from IBS: Your Guide to Managing Symptoms and Living Better

In this post, I’ll go over what IBS is, what causes those miserable symptoms, plus simple yet effective lifestyle tweaks, treatments and coping strategies to help you minimize symptoms and feel more in control.

If your stomach issues have you doubled over in pain, rushing to the bathroom, or popping antacids daily, you might be one of the 30 million Americans struggling with IBS. Don’t worry – you’re not alone. And most importantly, there are solutions! In this post, I’ll go over what IBS is, what causes those miserable symptoms, plus simple yet effective lifestyle tweaks, treatments and coping…