#Intestinal Inflammation

[drjigarpatel]

Inflammatory Bowel Disease (IBD) Treatment in Ahmedabad

Manage IBD with care and precision under expert guidance. Dr. Jigar Patel offers diagnosis and treatment for both Crohn’s disease and ulcerative colitis. Services: Colonoscopy, medication plans, symptom monitoring, flare-up management

[rorbison]

Worst part of this is MCAS and histamine intolerances are very new thoughts in medicine, still in their infancy. So I am surrounded by grifters who want me to give them $200 a month for "antihistamine support supplements" while outright telling MCAS and HIT patients to avoid the medications most likely to help them (various H1 and H2 blockers as well as luekotriene antagonists and a few others) for reasons ranging from "well they all actually inhibit the dao enzyme" to "you're training your body to continue producing histamine" to "histamines are blood ghosts". In various MCAS community spaces I've poked my head into a repeated refrain is "did you get a covid vax? I think getting vaccines did this to me" and constant unending speculation about "leaky gut". It's fucking intestinal inflammation and yes you have it as an MCAS patient, you probably have inflammation in most of your organs if you're an MCAS patient.

[hanguanjuns]

every message i get from my cat's vet i feel like i'll need to sell my virginity to keep my cat alive i swear to god. we need someone to make pet health insurance so everyone gets denied and someone kills the pet health insurance ceo so every animal gets surgery approved

[thelovebudllc]

Harnessing intestinal microbes to combat inflammation and infections

Despite being an everyday necessity, nutrition is something of a black box. We know that many plant-based foods are good for us, but we don’t always know why. Our intestinal microbiome, which helps break down these foods once we consume them, is another black box. What role do our gut bacteria play? New research published in Cell suggests that we could get more out of our diets by…

[fitnessmith]

Glucides sans prise de poids : comment les inclure sans grossir

NOUVEAU 👉 Améliorez le métabolisme des graisses et la santé avec ces glucides. #nutrition #santé #gestiondesglucides #antioxydants #antiinflammatoires #pertepoids #métabolisme #régime

Vous en avez assez des régimes compliqués et des solutions inefficaces pour gérer vos glucides ? Vous avez perdu du poids en réduisant vos glucides et vous ne savez pas comment les inclure à nouveau ? Il existe des glucides que vous pouvez consommer tous les jours sans crainte ( et ce ne sont pas des légumes ). Je vais aussi vous expliquer pourquoi les régimes de restriction des calories sur…

[thebibliosphere]

I had my annual follow-up with gastro today.

Just like the first time, he walked in carrying a stack of handwritten research notes, sat down, apologized for not checking in with me sooner then proceeded to tell me that he had yet again reviewed my entire medical file, and after seeing how low my ferritin was, thought I would be a good candidate for a camera pill screening to examine my small intestine because he’s worried we’re missing something.

There’s a whole bunch of intestine that can’t be seen via endoscopy or colonoscopy and after taking a chance with “another patient like me,” the capsule camera revealed small bowel disease that was causing major deficiencies.

He told me I could think about it, and also ordered an inflammation stool test that might help narrow down the decision for me based on the results.

He asked about my migraines, my MCAS, my chronic pain and my POTS. He talked about how a small bowel disease could affect all those things in terms of my MCAS and the way my body just seems to crash and burn out of certain vital nutrients at random.

“We need to look at all of you,” he kept saying. “We need to help you.”

He’s so kind and thorough it makes me want to cry.

[immunobiz]

À tous ceux et celles qui combattent les maladies inflammatoires de l'intestin, l'aide pourrait bien résider dans un petit mot aux grandes promesses : le glutathion. 🌟 Ce puissant antioxydant endogène est, hélas, souvent épuisé chez les personnes souffrant de la colite ulcéreuse ou de la maladie de Crohn. Pourquoi cela vous concerne ? Car le glutathion joue un rôle CRUCIAL dans la réduction du stress oxydatif – une des méchantes clés dans les processus inflammatoires intestinaux! Maintenant, imaginez qu'on puisse donner une longueur d'avance à notre corps en renforçant nos réserves de glutathion. C'est là que notre équipe chez Immunotec entre en scène ! Nous avons mis au point des produits capables de soutenir la production naturelle de cet antioxydant, pouvant aider à apaiser ces problèmes intestinaux. Le deuxième bienfait tourne autour de la détoxification. Notre organisme est une machine complexe, qui a parfois besoin d’un coup de main pour évacuer les intrus. Le glutathion vient à la rescousse, en favorisant l'élimination des toxines qui enveniment nos entrailles. Et pour lier le tout, il s'avère que booster notre glutathion peut également raffermir notre réponse immunitaire. Ça tombe bien, surtout lorsqu'on sait que ces maladies sont en lien étroit avec un système immunitaire. En conclusion, s'engager dans la voie de l'amélioration du bien-être peut souvent sembler insurmontable, mais des solutions existent. Si l'idée d'en savoir plus sur la manière dont vous pouvez améliorer la qualité de votre vie vous interpelle, n'hésitez pas à me contacter !

Ma passion, c'est votre santé. 💪 Ensemble, explorons comment la nutrition de pointe peut vous aider dans votre quête de bien-être!

[drclaudiosaracinodcsworld]

SOLUTIONS AUX MUSCLES QUI NE MARCHENT PAS? téléchargez l'audio DCS: PAS DE FIBROMYALGIE https://claudiosaracino.com/prodotto/no-fibromialgia-metodo-dcs/ #douleur #muscles #fibromialgie 🟢🇫🇷 1 MONDE MYSTERIEUX TON SUBCONSCIENT…hypnose DCS unique au monde téléchargez l'audio DCS: NON PASSE NEGATIF https://claudiosaracino.com/prodotto/... #hypnose #secret #mystere SLTP SI TU AS DES SUJETS OU DES ARGUMENTS QUE TU AIME DEVELOPPER, ECRITS LES LA ET LE DR CLAUDIO SARACINO GRATUITEMENT VA DEVELOPPER CE QUI TU DESIRES, D'ACCORD? TU PEUX, SI TU LE DESIRES, INDIQUER MEME DES THEMES OU ARGUMENTS NEFS... MERCI ET SLTS Sltp ecoutes ma pensée et, si tu le desires, poses des commentaires... #hypnose#methodedcs#hyonosedcs #methodedcs#hypnose #hypnosedcs #mp3dcs #drclaudiosaracino #losangeles#beverlihills#californie#usa#etasunit#drssarinabrunini#autohypnosedcs#methodedcs#mp3dcs#audiodcs #hypnosedcs#drclaudiosaracino#hypnose . Une de plus grandes différences par rapport à d’autres disciplines comme le yoga, la méditation, le yoga, le mendfulness, le mantra, le zen etc c’est que toi tu peux aider un de tes chers qui ne veut pas ton aide ou il ne peut pas avoir ton aide Ecoutes ce que j’ai à dire et partagés cette vidéo avec tes amis...IL NE FAUT PAS CROIRE😳IL FAUT SEULEMENT FAIRE ACTION😳il y a ce qui fait et ce qui ne fait pas...😳SEULEMENT A TOI LE CHOIX ⚔ 💪🏿YouTube👇🏿 https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCcNG... 👉🏿Facebook👇🏿 https://www.facebook.com/ipnologiasso... 👉🏿Instagram👇🏿 https://www.instagram.com/benessereip... 👉🏿twitter👇🏿 https://twitter.com/drsaracino 👉🏿Tiktok👇🏿https://vm.tiktok.com/GKxqYj/ 👉🏿sito:👇🏿 https://www.ipnologiassociati.com

[hildasday]

Children have weaker immunity than adults. We have to be extra careful when providing infant care, especially regarding their food and hygiene.

[theloverstomb]

‘Fragile Microbiomes’ by bio-artist Anna Dumitriu

1. SYPHILIS DRESS- This dress is embroidered with images of the corkscrew-shaped bacterium which causes the sexually transmitted disease syphilis. These embroideries are impregnated with the sterilised DNA of the Nichols strain of the bacterium - Treponema pallidum subsp. pallidum - which Dumitriu extracted with her collaborators.

2. MICROBE MOUTH- The tooth at the centre of this necklace was grown in the lab using an extremophile bacterium which is part of the species called Serratia (Serratia N14) that can produce hydroxyapatite, the same substance that tooth enamel is made from.

The handmade porcelain teeth that make up this necklace have been coated with glazes derived from various bacterial species that live in our mouths and cause tooth decay and gum disease, including Porphyromonas gingivalis, which can introduce an iron-containing light brown stain to the glaze.

3. TEETH MARKS: THE MOST PROFOUND MYSTERY- In his 1845 essay “On Artificial Teeth”, W.H. Mortimer described false teeth as “the most profound mystery” because they were never discussed. Instead, people would hide the stigma of bad teeth and foul breath using fans.

This altered antique fan is made from animal bone and has been mended with gold wire, both materials historically used to construct false teeth (which would also sometimes incorporate human teeth). The silk of the fan and ribbon has been grown and patterned with two species of oral pathogens: Prevotella intermedia and Porphyromonas gingivalis. These bacteria cause gum disease and bad breath, and the latter has also recently been linked to Alzheimer’s disease.

4. PLAGUE DRESS- This 1665-style 'Plague Dress' is made from raw silk, hand-dyed with walnut husks in reference to the famous herbalist of the era Nicholas Culpeper, who recommended walnuts as a treatment for plague. It has been appliquéd with original 17th-century embroideries, impregnated with the DNA of Yersinia pestis bacteria (plague). The artist extracted this from killed bacteria in the laboratory of the National Collection of Type Cultures at the UK Health Security Agency.

The dress is stuffed and surrounded by lavender, which people carried during the Great Plague of London to cover the stench of infection and to prevent the disease, which was believed to be caused by 'bad air' or 'miasmas'. The silk of the dress references the Silk Road, a key vector for the spread of plague.

5. BACTERIAL BAPTISM- based on a vintage christening gown which has been altered by the artist to tell the story of research into how the microbiomes of babies develop, with a focus on the bacterium Clostridioides difficile, originally discovered by Hall and O’Toole in 1935 and presented in their paper “Intestinal flora in new-born infants”. It was named Bacillus difficilis because it was difficult to grow, and in the 1970s it was recognised as causing conditions from mild antibiotic-associated diarrhoea to life-threatening intestinal inflammation. The embroidery silk is dyed using stains used in the study of the gut microbiome and the gown is decorated with hand-crocheted linen lace grown in lab with (sterilised) C. difficile biofilms. The piece also considers how new-borns become colonised by bacteria during birth in what has been described as ‘bacterial baptism’.

6. ZENEXTON- Around 1570, Swiss physician and alchemist Theophrastus Paracelsus coined the term ‘Zenexton’, meaning an amulet worn around the neck to protect from the plague. Until then, amulets had a more general purpose of warding off (unspecified) disease, rather like the difference today between ‘broad spectrum’ antibiotics and antibiotics informed by genomics approaches which target a specific organism.

Over the next century, several ideas were put forward as to what this amulet might contain: a paste made of powdered toads, sapphires that would turn black when they leeched the pestilence from the body, or menstrual blood. Bizarre improvements were later made: “of course, the toad should be finely powdered”; “the menstrual blood from a virgin”; “collected on a full moon”.

This very modern Zenexton has been 3D printed and offers the wearer something that genuinely protects: the recently developed vaccine against Yersinia pestis, the bacterium that causes plague.

[rebirthgarments]

TW: Chemical w-rfare, Ab-rtion

Urgent Ask to evacuate Nara, a 🍉 disabled woman with MS who also has pancreatic cancer due to chemical w-rfare.

Support by financially contributing to her @FedUp4Palestine vetted funhnd-raizer (that I personally vetted): givebutter.com/NaraMedicalAid

+ resharing/ reposting this post!

I, Sky Cubacub- a Fed up 4 Palestine team member, have been in direct contact with Nara to get to know her and her story more over the past few days. We have become fast friends due to so many overlapping symptoms of our disabilities. Nara’s story caught my eye because I have post-viral ME/CFS which many times is a precursor to MS. I really want my disability community to show up for her to get this campaign funded that is so close to my heart so that she can continue medical treatment.

We have chatted extensively! During our chats, I found out from Nara that she had not previously had health issues until she was exposed in the white phosphorus attack in 2008. The long lasting damage and effects of phosphorus continue to compound and become more and more disabling to this day, even after 16 years.

Here is her story in her own words (edited for clarity):

“Hi I'm Nara,

I'm a cancer and multiple sclerosis patient. I need treatment, examinations, and follow-up on a regular basis, but the hospitals in which I used to follow up were bombed and the other one was turned into military barracks. All I need now is to leave Gaza for treatment, preserve my life, and live with my family in peace.

We're a family of 4, including my 12 and 7 year old children.

I had been diagnosed with a tumor in the pancreas as a result of inhaling phosphorus in a previous war. A couple years after being exposed to phosphorus, I became pregnant, and the fetus was pressing on the tumor, which drew the doctor’s attention to the cancer. My fetus was emergency aborted, and the spleen, 80% of the pancreas, and part of the small intestine were removed. I complained every now and then of a lot of pain as a result of the removal of part of the pancreas. I was having follow up care in the Turkish Friendship Hospital for hematology and tumors. But since the beginning of October, I have not been able to follow up because the hospital has turned into a military barracks.

The remaining part is talking about multiple sclerosis:

In 2018, I was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. I had many complications, such as inflammation of the seventh nerve in the eye, the inability to walk with balance, movement with difficulty, and many symptoms. I was then required to take 12 injections every month and many medications and vitamins. I was following up at the Nasser Medical Complex in Khan Yunis, but unfortunately the hospital was out of service due to the war. So for a long time I have not received any injections. MS is truly difficult and it controls my life completely, and the attacks occur in many and varied ways.”

A note about her breathing apparatus:

Because people in displacement have to wait in long queues and pay to use the bathroom, Nara had started to restrict her water intake because of a UTI she never has been able to heal from. This has created a problem with raised levels of potassium, so doctors have placed her on oxygen for fear of the potassium affecting her heart.

Goals

she needs at least $15,000 to evacuate

2 adults at $5,000 each

2 children at $2,500 each

this price is subject to increase due to the cost of registration for evacuation continuing to go up

The other money will go to the cost of treatment and living costs.

Nara chooses to stay anonymous because she has had to mask her disabilities so much that only her family knows about her MS and Cancer, so we have not linked her instagram, but we are in direct contact with her and can verify that she is who she says she is! Because of this, she cannot promote her own fundraiser, so it is our job to collectively do it for her!

[Image Description: a digital illustration by @k8deciccio of Nara, a Pal-eh-stienian woman wearing a black hijab/outfit with purple highlights. She has a breathing apparatus that is bulbous that goes in her nose. Text Reads: Help Narawith Cancer and MS Treatment, She Must Evacuate with her family of 4. $30k goal givebutter.com/NaraMedicalAid . There is a QR code in the bottom right corner that goes to her support link. The @FedUp4Palestine logo is in the top left corner.]

[genderqueerdykes]

disabled intersex trans person needs help saving up for rent

hello there, i am an intersex trans person who is developing crohn's disease. i have been dealing with intestinal inflammation, dizziness, lightheadedness, pain, nausea, vomiting, exhaustion, physical weakness, and other symptoms that have been making it impossible to concentrate on working or writing. i've had to spend mo st of my time sleeping due to the sheer amount of pain, the side effects of the medications, and how dehydrated i've been. it's been hard to eat solid food and when i do, i barely get anything back from it. i have been in and out of the ER due to this, and am currently waiting on an endoscopy/colonoscopy to get further answers. until then, i've been doing what i can to manage the pain and other symptoms

fortunately, my rent isn't very expensive at all due to me living in government assisted housing. if you are interested in helping me, you can do so in the following ways:

$0/$211

pay pal: glittergraphicnightmare @ gmail. com cash app: $glitterGraphix venmo: $Equinoxian chime: $Equinoxian

[0xo]

i would like to remind everyone that most disabilities come with comorbidities. what this means is that, most of the time, someone who is disabled does not have just *one* condition that causes them pain or difficulty.

for example, i have crohn's, which is an autoimmune disease primarily affecting the bowels. i also have ehlers-danlos syndrome(eds), which is a connective tissue disorder. eds can make crohn's worse because eds can affect your intestinal lining. crohn's can make eds worse because crohn's can also affect joint inflammation, so loose joints become more inflamed than they otherwise would. both can severely affect fatigue levels.

these are just two things i deal with. there are other comorbidities and complications i deal with, like fibromyalgia, dysautonomia, nerve damage, and more; but eds and crohn's are the easiest to explain how they play off each other.

i don't think abled people realize that most disabled people deal with something like this. i see disabled people online being very open about their multiple diagnoses to raise awareness and understanding - and then i see abled people shitting on them because "there's no way you can have that many things wrong with you."

but this is the truth of the situation: being disabled is almost never a straightforward, one-and-done diagnosis thing. even if it starts as one diagnosis, many people discover or develop other problems as their health changes. or even develop other issues because of medications! the intravenous medication i took for crohn's causes arthritis in a significant number of patients, and is most likely responsible for just how severe my joint inflammation gets.

so if you're abled, and you've ever seen a long diagnosis list and thought maybe someone was exaggerating - please step back and rethink. this is a very common thing. i would dare to guess that more people are multi-diagnosis than single-diagnosis. you are not helping anyone by accusing someone of faking or exaggerating, you are just being ableist.

as a disabled person, it takes immense bravery to speak openly and publicly about how our lives are affected by our disabilities, and we do not deserve to be treated poorly for being honest about our realities. your lack of knowledge or willingness to learn should not become our additional pain.

[enasmaher44]

To all kind-hearted souls,

I write to you today with a heart full of hope, praying that my voice reaches those who can help me in the difficult circumstances I am enduring. My name is Ienas, I am 30 years old, and I live in Gaza. Over a year ago, I lost my beloved husband, who was my pillar and the primary provider for our family, due to the war that destroyed our lives. He left me with two young children, Nasser (6 years old) and Bahaa (3 years old), to face life alone, without a home or stable shelter, after our house was destroyed, forcing us to flee to the south.

I suffer from a severe and chronic autoimmune disease for which no treatment is available in my country. I am waiting for a chance to travel abroad to receive the necessary treatment. Over time, my health has been deteriorating due to a lack of proper nutrition and the immense physical and emotional stress I am under.

My two children, Nasser and Bahaa, are also suffering from health issues. Nasser has a skin condition called "morphea" and flat feet, requiring specialized treatment. Meanwhile, Bahaa has acute intestinal inflammation that demands ongoing care and monitoring. Unfortunately, due to a lack of resources, I am unable to provide them with the treatment they desperately need.

With the war and destruction continuing, we have been relying on limited humanitarian aid that barely meets our basic needs. For over a year, we have survived on canned food, which has further worsened my health condition.

I launched a fundraising campaign to secure treatment for my children and myself. However, donations have stopped, and I am now in desperate need of your help—not just financially but also by sharing my story and spreading the campaign link among your friends and contacts.

Every share can make a difference and might save my life and my children's lives. Please, help me amplify my voice to the world. Let us come together to bring hope back to my children, who have known nothing but pain and fear since losing their father.

Please don’t let my children lose their mother too, as they lost their father to war. Help us. Donate or share now.

@chilewithcarnage @ghelgheli @sivavakkiyar @anneemay

@mavigator @lacecap @yugiohz @vakarians-babe @socalgal

@ankle-beez @lonniemachin @dykesbat @charlott2n @watermotif

@tamamita @serial-unaliver-deactivated2024 @vampiricvenus @punkitt-is-here @2spirit-0spoons @paper-mario-wiki @omegaversereloaded @nyancrimew @90-ghost @beserkerjewel @ot3 @killyourhistory @prisonhannibal @aimasup @anneemarye @dirhwangdaseul @neechees @memingursa @certifiedsexed @afro-elf @11thsense @sawasawako @vampris13 @girlinafairytale @spacebeyonce @skipppppy @beetledrink @schoolhater98 @3000s @annevbonny @fools-and-perverts2 @dailyquests @evillesbianvillain @wolfertinger666 @taffybuns @valtsv @postanagramgenerator @feluka @abdalsalam1990

[ctrlzirl]

— ★ tomorrow

↳ summary: “I wasted all those yesterdays, and now,—“ His words trailed off with a sigh, his eyes red-rimmed from hours of tears shed in the hospital, his gaze blurry as it searched for her face, “—What if I am completely out of tomorrows?”

↳ warnings: hospitals, mentions of gunshot wounds, pain, regret, not proof-read. No use of “y/n”

↳ author’s note: This is fluff, I promise the end is really sweet! This is also inspired by different, random, pinterest quotes my friends sent me. Enjoy!

* ੈ✩‧₊˚

No one enjoyed hospitals. The colors lacked vibrancy, the sounds became repetitive after a few minutes, the antiseptic smell was overpowering, the food tasted bland, and the anxious wait for news about a loved one was excruciating.

Unfortunately, the team was all too familiar with hospital waiting rooms, and even more unfortunate was their familiarity with being patients themselves.

Thankfully, the Federal Employees' Compensation Act provided some relief. Without it, they couldn't even begin to fathom the astronomical medical bills they'd be facing.

Tonight, however, finding themselves stuck in the uncomfortable chairs of the hospital waiting room had not been part of their plans.

The young genius's head throbbed relentlessly, a sensation he'd endured for weeks. The unimaginable pressure around his entire head, compounded with the bright light reflecting off the hospital's shiny white walls, the incessant beeping and the sounds of loved ones crying doing nothing other than intensify his discomfort.

The nurse they had bombarded with questions upon arrival had emerged not long ago to thankfully inform them that everything was alright. The surgery had gone well, and she was now in recovery. Soon enough, if they wished, they could stop by her new temporary room and visit her.

By now, most of the team had returned to the office. Hotch had been called back to work to tackle the pending files on their desks. Fortunately, he had allowed Rossi and Reid to remain behind. Ostensibly, their task was to update the team on her condition, but both of them understood that even if that hadn’t been necessary, there was no force on earth that could have budged Spencer from his spot, where he had been stationed for the last however many hours.

Spencer could feel David's gaze piercing through him. He wanted to snap at him, but he knew his current behavior had undoubtedly attracted more attention than just the older agent's. Clutching at his head, tugging on strands of hair intermittently, his leg bouncing up and down, with eyes tightly shut—his agitation was palpable.

“Kid, they said she’s alright. You need to relax.”

It was true, they had been told that, but it did little to reassure him. His mind raced through various worst-case scenarios. Her wound could become infected, or there might be undetected damage to internal organs. He fretted over potential complications like inflammation of the peritoneum, the formation of blood clots, or even damage to blood vessels leading to reduced blood flow to vital organs, potentially resulting in organ dysfunction or failure.

“The survival rate might seem high, but statistically speaking, complications can arise, even with the best medical care.”

“Spencer—“

“For instance, studies have shown that gunshot wounds to the abdomen carry a significant risk of infection, with rates as high as 20%. And there’s the possibility of peritonitis, which occurs in approximately 10% of cases.”

“Kid—“

“Organ damage is also a concern, particularly with injuries to vital organs like the liver or intestines. Even with the most advanced treatments—“

“Reid!”

For the first time since he sat down, his leg ceased its relentless movement. His hand, which had been tugging at the ends of his hair, relaxed and dropped to his lap, along with the hand he had been waving in the air to explain the statistics. His eyes unclenched, the worry in his brow disappearing as the rest of his facial muscles relaxed.

“What is going on, Spencer?”

The genius's eyes met the older agent's worried gaze with deliberate blinks, adjusting to the harsh fluorescent lights overhead while tuning out the cacophony of noise that surrounded them. “I just— I”

“I never told her and I— I don’t— “ His breathing was uneven, his words tumbling out faster than his mind could keep pace, his mouth struggling to articulate as his chest constricted with anxiety.

A gentle weight settled on his shoulder, its warmth grounding him as it gave a light shake, bringing him back to the present moment and prompting him to pause and take a breath.

“Rossi I- I devoted half my time since meeting her to loving her, only to spend the other half hiding it from her.”

With a sigh, the formerly retired agent settled down next to the much younger agent, his hands staying on the genius's shoulder as he shifted slightly to find a comfortable position.

Reid's gaze lingered on Rossi's face for a moment before he averted it, focusing instead on the bustling activity in the hallway where nurses and doctors hurried back and forth attending to patients.

“Every moment we shared, every laugh, every smile she graced me with, even in her unconscious gestures—“ His gaze returned to the hallway momentarily before lowering to where his hands rested on his knees. With a quick, almost imperceptible shake of his head, he cleared his throat. “Every time I looked at her, the words swelled in my throat. I longed to tell her how much she truly means to me, the happiness and peace she effortlessly brings into my world.”

“To tell her that I love her. That I have for a while now.”

David’s mouth opened, but before he could utter a word, Spencer's pointer finger shot up in the air, silencing any impending speech. It hovered there for a brief moment before his whole palm opened, effectively halting whatever words David had intended to say and then dropping back down to his lap.

“Every single time, I held back. I stopped myself from reaching out to her, from letting my true feelings spill out, from whispering all the things I desperately wished she knew.” His words cracked along with his voice as he, for the first time, admitted aloud feelings he had hidden for so long. “And with my heart pounding in my ears, I always just watched her, silently promising myself, ‘Tomorrow. I’ll tell her tomorrow.’”

“I wasted all those yesterdays, and now,—“ His words trailed off with a sigh that escaped his lips, his eyes red-rimmed from hours of tears shed in the hospital, his gaze blurry as it searched for the older man’s face, “—What if I am completely out of tomorrows?”

They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of Spencer's admission hanging between them until the ringing of a phone shattered the stillness. With a sigh, Rossi reached into his pocket, retrieving the vibrating phone and glancing at the contact name.

“She’ll be okay, kid.”

With one final, reassuring squeeze to his shoulder, the older man rose to his feet, his knee cracking audibly as he turned to leave. Despite his efforts at reassurance, Spencer's profound anxiety remained largely unchanged.

He felt utterly helpless, his mind desperately grasping for solutions, for the comforting embrace of statistical analysis with its reassuring numbers. But instead, there was only silence. For the first time in his life, his mind was empty, devoid of answers, devoid of the usual cacophony of thoughts and calculations.

He couldn't recall the moment the nurse returned to inform him that he could visit her, nor did he remember following the nurse into the room and settling down beside her bed.

He cast restless glances around the room, his eyes darting from one piece of medical equipment to another, then flitting to the walls and ceiling. His gaze moved incessantly, pausing only briefly before moving on, taking in every detail. Except for her.

Alone in the quiet with her, he couldn't bring himself to meet her frame. To look at her now would make everything feel too real, and his heart was already heavy with pain.

His body felt like it was betraying him. Breathing became labored, thoughts fragmented, and the pain in his heart seemed insurmountable.

He wanted to tell someone— no, he wanted to tell her, but he knew she wouldn’t have a solution like she always did. So he sat there, his hands nervously tugging at strands of hair, eyes squeezed shut against the overwhelming cacophony of beeping machines surrounding them.

His heart weighed heavily in his chest, burdened by the weight of pain, regret, and fear. It was a sensation he never wanted to experience again, a darkness that threatened to engulf him entirely.

Throughout the night, nurses came and went. Some spoke to him, gave him updates on her condition but he didn’t listen. He tried, he just couldn’t understand it.

As the first light of dawn crept over the horizon, he reluctantly turned his gaze toward her bed. His eyes lingered on her hand, once so delicate and warm in his, now adorned with tubes and wires connecting her to different machines.

With a heavy sigh, his eyes remained fixed on her hand as he leaned forward, feeling the strain in his back from hours of immobility. With gentle care, he reached out and clasped her hand in his, his thumb tracing soothing circles over the back of it, mindful of the wires and tubes.

He remained still for a moment, relishing the warmth of her hand in his before allowing his gaze to travel up her arm, eyes tracing the patterns of the thin, cream-colored blanket that draped over her midsection when they got there. Then, his gaze shifted to her other arm, positioned protectively over her stomach where the wound lay, as if guarding it from further harm.

He studied the blue hospital gown draped over her body, its hue accentuating the sickly paleness of her skin. He traced every curve, every wrinkle, every wire, everything until his eyes finally met her bruised face.

She looked so peaceful and beautiful, devoid of worry. The furrows that typically marked her brow now absent, her closed eyes darting beneath her lids.

Tears welled in his eyes, the overwhelming emotions washing over him as he gazed upon her form. There was no smile, no gentle words escaping her lips, just a faintly parted mouth and serene countenance.

“Please wake up.” he whispered, his voice raspy from not being used in hours. “Please.” The desperation in his voice was evident in the way it cracked, in the way his chest tightened, in the way his throat constricted.

But she didn’t. Not for two weeks.

The medics reassured the team that she was showing positive signs and was going to be fine. They explained that in cases of severe internal bleeding within the abdominal cavity, it was common for patients to take longer to regain consciousness. "Sometimes, this can lead to hypovolemic shock and reduced blood flow to vital organs, including the brain," said the doctor they were currently questioning, one arm cradling a notepad against his chest while the other gestured towards her on the hospital bed, "which contributes to the prolonged unconsciousness she's experiencing."

Once the team's questions were answered, the doctor turned towards the door, his pen moving rapidly across the notepad as he scribbled something down. Upon reaching the door, he paused, pivoting back to face them. "While I can't predict the exact timeline for her awakening, I want to reassure you that we're doing everything we can to support her recovery." Tucking his pen back into his chest pocket, he scanned the room, meeting each person's gaze before lingering on on the genius’.

"Every individual responds differently to trauma and surgery, and it's not uncommon for patients to take some time to regain consciousness," he said, his tone gentle and reassuring, his kind smile directed at Spencer. "However, I want to emphasize that she's showing positive signs of progress, and her body is responding well to treatment. She should be waking up soon." With a final nod in the genius’ direction, he opened the door and disappeared into the flow of medical staff and patients outside her room.

The doctor's reassuring words and comforting demeanor provided Spencer with a small sense of relief.

As the days stretched on, nearing the two-week mark since her surgery, Spencer's exhaustion was becoming more evident. Dark circles underlined his eyes, his hair unkempt, and he felt the weight of fatigue settling into his bones. Sitting by her bedside day after day had taken its toll, leaving him feeling drained and with a sore backside.

It wasn’t until night, when he was alone with her again that he made a promise. “If you wake up tomorrow, I promise—“ He delicately released her hand, curling his fingers into a fist before extending his pinky finger to link with hers. “I pinky promise,” he whispered, a soft, trembling laugh escaping his lips as he recalled her insistence that a promise was only truly binding if sealed with a pinky. “If you wake up tomorrow, I’ll tell you everything.”

He had made up his mind days ago, swearing to himself that the moment she regained consciousness, he would lay everything bare. He hoped that verbalizing the promise would somehow penetrate her unconsciousness and draw her back to him.

As the night wore on and the room bathed in the soft glow of predawn, his senses awakened to a subtle movement near his head, his mind clouded with confusion as he remained still, trying to grasp his surroundings.

He found himself in a hazy state, unable to pinpoint the exact moment sleep had claimed him, yet the sensation of their linked pinkies lingered, his other hand placed gently on her leg, while his head rested on the bed.

It wasn’t until he felt his pinky being squeezed that Spencer’s senses sharpened, his back straightening with a crack as his eyes snapped into focus on her. The familiar furrow returned to her brow as she squeezed her eyes shut, her free hand instinctively reaching up to rub at her forehead.

His breath caught in his throat, his body frozen as he stared at her, his heart pounding loudly in his ears.

“Spence?”

Her voice was raspy, her tone confused as her eyes opened and scanned the room. Without hesitation, he rose from his seat, hands releasing hers as he hurried to the table with the water bottles. He swiftly grabbed one, unscrewing the cap as he returned to her side.

She struggled to lift herself up on her elbows, her eyes tracking his movements, fixated on the open water bottle as he presented it to her. With a gentle nod from her, he brought the bottle closer, tipping it carefully as it reached her parched lips, his other hand positioned beneath her chin, ready to catch any droplets that might escape.

After consuming almost half of the bottle, she gently pushed it away from her lips, taking a moment to swallow the last gulp before lying back down.

He remained in a state of shock, his mind racing faster than it had in weeks, attempting to process the moment as he observed her shifting, striving to find a comfortable position.

“Spence?”

“You—” he began, his words trailing off as he struggled to articulate his thoughts. “You are awake.”

At his words, a gentle smile, the one he had longed to see for weeks, graced her lips. She nodded in acknowledgment as she looked at him. Without hesitation, he moved forward, enveloping her in a tight embrace, being careful not to hurt her. "You're awake," he whispered softly, his face nuzzling into her neck.

He knew he was supposed to call a nurse in —something the staff had reminded him of repeatedly— , but in that moment, he couldn’t bear to let her go. So, he held her tighter, his arms enveloping her as if protecting her from everything, his hand gently cradling the back of her head, thumb tracing soothing circles as he drew her closer.

They stayed like that for what felt like an eternity before he released her from his embrace, his body reluctantly withdrawing from her warmth. His hands remained, tenderly cupping her face as he gazed into her eyes, memorizing every detail of her being.

"I have to tell you something," he whispered, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. The familiar nerves and doubt flooded back, causing his heart to race so fast that he knew that if he had been the one hooked up to the machines, medics would have surely burst into the room thinking someone was having a heart attack.

He hesitated, his eyes lingering on her face, absorbing every detail illuminated by the gentle glow of the sun filtering into the room.

In his hesitation, his mind revisited every memory he shared with her. He recalled the moments he wanted to confess but held back, as well as his conversation with Rossi. Then, the memory of their pinky promise last night resurfaced, reminding him of his commitment. He couldn’t break a pinky promise.

“Spencer?”

“I love you.” There. He said it. His gaze lowered in fear of rejection, the nerves in his stomach growing, but he kept going, he had to. “I am so unimaginably in love with you.”

“Spencer—“

“No, I need—“ he paused, his eyes brimming with unshed tears, gazing still fixated downward as he cleared his throat from the imaginary knot that was beginning to form there. “I need you to know that every time you smile, every time you laugh, every time you talk to me, it’s like my whole world lights up.”

“And when you look at me, it’s like everything else fades away, and there’s just you.” With a deep inhale, he squeezed his eyes shut, colors swirling behind his eyelids from the pressure, before slowly exhaling and looking up to meet her gaze. “I can’t even scientifically explain how you make me feel. There is no book, or research article that explains what you make me feel.”

One of his hands left her face, gesturing through the air as he attempted to explain everything without the safety net of statistical knowledge. “Every time I’m near you, it’s like my heart speeds up so much that, scientifically speaking, I should be dead.” The quiet chuckle that escaped her lips reached his ears, easing the tight lines on his forehead as his lips formed into a gentle smile. “But it doesn’t matter, because being near you makes me feel more alive than I’ve ever felt before.”

“Every little thing you do, it just… it makes me fall more and more in love with you.”

“God, I’ve loved you for so long.” His hand halted its relentless movement and lowered to push the hair out of his eyes before running down his face with a grunt of frustration.

"I've fought multiple inner battles trying to tell you how I feel, only to back down at the last minute, silently promising myself that I would do it the next day."

Her eyes softened at his words, her lips pulling into a sad smile as his remained parted, eyes teary as they left her gaze and focused on his lap. “And then you got shot and I—“ The memories of everything that happened in the last two weeks rushing back to him. "I thought I had run out of next days.”

Her hand, which had been holding his against her cheek, shifted gently, cupping his cheek and wiping away the tear that had managed to escape his eyes.

With a sigh, he looked up to meet her eyes again, his own free hand coming up to hold the hand she now had on his cheek. He leaned into her touch, his head resting against her hand as she rubbed soothing circles against the stubble that had appeared after weeks of not shaving. “I adore you.”

His face inched closer to hers, resting his forehead against hers. "I’m fine with whatever you want as long as I'm able to have you in my life," he whispered, his warm breath brushing against her skin. "I love you so, so much. Always." With that, their foreheads separated and his lips moved up to plant a gentle kiss on her forehead.

The room fell silent, his words hanging in the air as she processed them. After another second, Spencer moved, standing up and letting her know that he was going to go get a nurse before quickly disappearing.

The nurses flooded her room with warmth and care, each one exuding kindness as they attended to her needs, explaining her situation, answering questions, and expressing relief that she was recovering well.

Spencer stood patiently by the door, his shoulder leaning against the frame as he observed the nurses with gratitude, thanking them as they left after ensuring everything was in order.

As the last nurse made her way to the door, she slowed her footsteps, casting a reassuring smile at Spencer. “I told you she’d be alright, sweetheart,” she said with a gentle tone.

Marisa, the lovely old nurse, had not only been concerned about his best friend’s well-being but also his. The genius could confidently say that, had it not been for Marisa, he probably would’ve starved in that hospital chair.

She would often stop by during her morning shift, offering reassurance that she would be alright, often bending a few hospital rules to make Spencer more comfortable, providing him with the comfiest blankets, or allowing him to take showers in the bedroom’s bathroom so he wouldn’t have to leave her side.

She also insisted on him taking breaks to get some fresh air, eat proper meals, and change his clothes, assuring him that if anything happened, she would call him immediately.

With a comforting squeeze to his arm, the nurse left, closing the door gently behind her and leaving the two of them alone in the room.

As he settled back into the familiar chair, their eyes met once more, exchanging a silent understanding. They sat in comfortable silence for a while, relishing each other's presence. Eventually, Spencer broke the quietude. "I should call the team," he suggested softly.

He rose from the chair, his hand diving into his pocket to retrieve his phone. With his back turned to her, he scrolled through his contacts, his foot shifting slightly as he prepared to step away.

Before he could get far, his movements halted by the touch of her hand on his arm, he lowered his phone and turned back to her, meeting her gaze with curiosity. "Wait," she said softly. With a nod, he returned his phone to his pocket, yielding to her gentle tug until he found himself seated by her side on the bed.

A grunt of discomfort escaped her lips as she struggled to sit up, reaching out for his hand for support. Once she was upright, she shifted closer to him. “What are- oomf—“ before he could finish, his question was cut off by the sudden press of her lips against his, her hands gripping the back of his head.

His body momentarily stiffened, eyes widening in surprise as he tried to process what was happening. When it finally clicked, the initial shock turned into a gentle surrender as he closed his eyes, allowing himself to be swept away by the warmth of her lips against his.

With a soft exhale, his hand instinctively rose to caress her cheek, pulling her face even closer to his and deepening the kiss.

If he had ever believed his heart couldn’t beat any faster than when in her presence, he stood corrected. Now, he was certain he was experiencing a heart attack.

His lips moved against hers so perfectly, as if they had kissed a thousand times before, as if their souls recognized each other instantly.

It was perfect, not because it was flawless, but because it felt so real.

He never wanted to stop; her lips were addicting, but when his lungs screamed at him for air, he reluctantly pulled his lips away from hers, resting his forehead against hers as they caught their breath.

“I love you too, Spencer.”

His head jerked back, eyes wide open as he looked at her, scanning her expression, looking for any hint that she was lying, only to find honesty shining through her eyes.

With a laugh, she took his face back in her hands, pulling him closer and pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “You have, and will always be the one my heart searches for in a world full of everyone else.”

With a toothy smile, he pulled her lips back to his, chuckling inwardly, as their lips met, acknowledging that if he thought he reached the peak before, he was mistaken again. His heart was racing faster than ever before. A heart attack of a different kind.

A heart attack that he’d gladly experience a million times more.