#Toronto Hair Loss Doctor

[snkts]

the first time this scene played out, josh had been a teenager. his eyes still blue, his hair still blonde, his golden hands already stained with blood and mottled with the rot of it. there in the dim lighting of a grimly dive bar he'd sat, asking for guidance and protection from the world that the man before him couldn't give. he'd been scared of himself, scared of what he'd done, and scared of what he would do -

and all the weeks and months that followed had done was prove that he was right to be scared. that he was alone in all this, that his problems were his to carry and handle and secrecy and misery were his truest companions.

maybe, had that first time gone a little better, the second would be different. maybe the gold on his skin would feel truer and less like gold plating, hiding a monster just waiting to come out.

this bar is equally grimy to last. not krakoan. some hole near enough to a gate. there's a tooth on the bartop from a still bleeding mouth. its former owner is slumped over in a booth at the back, trying to act like he'd given as good as he'd got. soon enough he'll forget himself and start another fight, but his is not the focus of this story.

the golden boy that steps through those swinging doors doesn't even spare him a sideways glance. and that, in itself, is a sign that the only advice he'd gotten that day has been forgotten.

there's no awkward bid for attention. no fumbling for words and an explanation for why he's here and what he wants.

josh merely sits down beside his former favorite hero. his eyes are no longer blue, his hair is no longer blonde, and the evidence of that first blood once so visible on his hands has been washed away by all that came after. those new folks on krakoa

he orders a drink - strongest they have. "one for me, and one for my buddy here." the drinks come and then there's... silence.

josh doesn't acknowledge the man next to him, staring down into the amber liquid of a drink cheaper than what he's paying for. of the five, elixir is the least talkative. he's not said a word to cyclops, nor to wolverine. the nice thing of being one of five is that someone else is always there to do the talking, to be the words that he doesn't want to give them.

but it's just him now. him, and logan, and the weight of the sins he knows are happening and he is once again complacent in.

after a moment or two, josh pulls up his glass and drains it dry. then leans back, pulls the latest missive from the x-force and beast himself, and slaps it down on the table in front of them.

"this," he says, his voice deceptively calm, "x-force bullshit is either gonna stop or i'm gone."

the first part of the memo is a request from the five to the x-force. the message is written in egg's careful script, their discomfort with what they've been tasked with all too clear.

the response is cold and to the point. in doctor mccoy's handwriting, but no the voice josh ever knew him to have. we order. you cook. end of story.

"i'm not doing this again," he tamps the words with one long golden finger, which flares with a power far greater than that he'd had as a teen. "not after what it did to me. not with what i can do now. and not with what it's doing to them."

( somewhere, in the back of the bar, the drunk will come to and find all his teeth have regrown. every person in this space will awaken and find themselves renewed, courtesy of his ever-expanding abilities. powers flaring whether he wants them to or not. )

It’s dark here. Quiet. Almost peaceful. Not quite, but almost. That seemed to be a frequent theme on Krakoa. Almost-not-quites piled up like Toronto’s playoff losses. … Was he still allowed to watch the NHL? It wasn't exactly mutant owned. Sure, he’d keep watching anyway, even if it meant some extra trips through the portal, but was it gonna turn into a headache? He growled quietly and downed his glass. Fuck. It already was. The rules were almost-not-quite clear. The beer was almost-not-quite good. Some special brew made ‘just for mutants like him’ that was meant to somehow bypass his healing factor and actually get him shitfaced. It sort of worked, but it didn't taste right. Nothing compared to a nice glass of Molson’s. Or, fuck, some actual whiskey…

Yeah.

Almost-not-quites. Just like he could almost-not-quite ignore the footsteps behind him. They were getting closer. He recognized the cadence, the scent that was barely masked by the reek of alcohol and sweat and bodies and floor polish. He knew who it was. He glanced up anyway, and - yeah.

There was Elixir. He was as hard to miss as he ever was, skin gleaming gold in a way that felt horribly out of place in the bar’s dark atmosphere. That much has stayed the same, but everything else about him… That was worn down. That was tarnished. Logan looks back at the bar. He breathes a sigh.

So much for a restful evening.

Logan doesn’t speak when Josh sits. Doesn’t say anything when the kid orders for him, either. Just grimaced and pushed the new glass away with the back of his hand, and tapped two fingers against the countertop to get a refill of what he’d had. The booze here was already watery piss; he didn’t need it soured by pity, too. Besides, he knows the familiar term is more of a hidden ‘fuck you’ than anything else. He could shoot it back. He has an idea of what’s coming. And when Josh speaks - yep. Right on the money. Guess they were doing this. Logan grunts, glances at the sheet of paper. He recognized the letterhead. He leans over just enough to see what it says. Oh, right - he remembered that one. That was from… Four days ago, right? Something like that. He’d had to talk to Hank about that. Argue with him, more like. They did that a lot these days. It’s not that Logan wanted to get rid of X Force. If Krakoa was going to function as a sovereign nation, they needed a defence force - especially with how tangled they were with the Skrull and how antagonistic the Quiet Council got with the humans. They’d need someone to stand between them and the shit they stirred up. (And, selfishly, it was a way to get off this rock. Yes, his family was here. Yes, the home he'd been given was warm, dry, safe, and comfortable. And yes, it was good to have everyone together. But he missed Earth, and sometimes he just wanted some goddamn In-N-Out.) But- Fuck. It was getting twisted. Things were getting FUBAR and it was hard to know where the bad seeds were sown. But he also can’t just walk away. He has a duty, to his friends, to his family, to everyone on Krakoa. And if he leaves, who keeps X-Force in line? It’s already spiralling out of control, and that’s with him yanking on the reigns. (And he hasn’t always done the best job of that. Since when the hell has he been the model of self restraint-?) And when it comes down to who’s on it…

Apparently, not Elixir.

Logan grunts and returns to his drink just in time for it to be refilled.

“So leave.” It’s blunt, and it’s callous, but he’s done arguing. He’s tired. He's pissed. And he just wants to drink in peace. “You're one of the Five. You decide which of us get to live. Why do you give a shit what I say?” And he downs his glass again.

“Do what you want, kid. You're the one who’s gotta live with yourself.”

[torontobeautyclinic]

Hair Loss During Postpartum Period: Why It Happens & What You Can Do

Congratulations on your new baby. However, amidst daily work, you might notice something unsettling- Hair loss during postpartum period. It is called postpartum hair loss, but temporary.

When it comes to the reason behind this postpartum hair loss, it is due to the estrogen levels dropping after childbirth. The hormone is responsible for keeping your hair follicles in a constant growth phase. A dropped level of estrogen triggers a large number of hair follicles to prematurely enter the resting phase, leading to shedding after a few months.

Many new moms experience Hair loss during postpartum period. It typically starts around 3 to 4 months after childbirth. Don’t panic. It's perfectly normal. Your hair follicles haven't forgotten how to grow and your hair growth cycle will return to normal. However, if your hair does not regain after one year, consult with your dermatologist.

Tips For Managing Your Hair Loss During Postpartum Period:

You can't prevent postpartum shedding, but you can manage your hair loss. Here are some helpful tips:

Gentle Handling- Don’t be so harsh with your hair. Try to avoid harsh styling techniques like tight braids, excessive heat styling, or chemical treatments. Use a wide-tooth comb and air-drying if possible.

Nourish from Within- Include a healthy diet rich in essential vitamins and minerals and drink plenty of water throughout the day.

Stress Less. Chronic stress can exacerbate hair loss. You can also use volumizing shampoos and lighter conditioners that can add body to your hair.

When To See A Doctor For Postpartum Hair Loss?

Postpartum shedding is normal. But, when it comes to excessive hair loss beyond a year postpartum, you should consult a dermatologist. They will evaluate your hair loss and underlying medical conditions.

They also offer Platelet-rich plasma (PRP) therapy for treating hair loss, including postpartum hair loss. When PRP is injected into the scalp, these growth factors are delivered directly to hair follicles. It promotes hair growth, thickens existing hair, and potentially shortens the hair loss shedding phase. Remember, PRP treatment is a minimally invasive procedure.

By understanding the reasons behind your postpartum hair loss, you can fix this issue with confidence. However, look for an experienced and certified professional for help. When you are considering PRP treatment for your Hair loss during postpartum period, contact Toronto Beauty Clinic. Discover how our PRP treatments can revolutionize your hair game. Book your appointments now! Learn more at www.torontobeautyclinic.ca.

Resource: https://torontobeautyclinic.wordpress.com/2024/08/13/hair-loss-during-postpartum-period-why-it-happens-what-you-can-do/

[elianafischer]

Best Doctors in Toronto for Hair Loss Treatments

Say goodbye to your hair loss worries with confidence!" Find the best hair loss physicians in Toronto and get started on the road to having the long, thick, and brilliant hairline you've always desired.doctors for hair loss

[distilllaserclinicca]

Regain Confidence: Exploring Solutions for Hair Loss in Toronto

Hair loss is a common condition that many people experience, and it can cause anxiety and low self-esteem. Losing hair can affect a person's emotional health in addition to their physical look. However, hair loss doesn't have to be a constant concern in a forward-thinking metropolis like Toronto. Numerous hair restoration clinics are sprouting throughout the city, offering solid and contemporary ways to deal with this problem. These cutting-edge hair restoration clinics provide procedures like Platelet-Rich Plasma (PRP) Therapy, Hair Transplantation, and Laser Hair Therapy. Each person experiencing hair loss has options to restore their lost hair and, eventually, their confidence thanks to their specialized therapies and knowledgeable advice. This investigation of options helps people comprehend the many treatments in Toronto and how they may assist people in regaining their hair and the confidence that goes along with it.

Hair Restoration with Platelet-rich Plasma (PRP) Therapy

Hair restoration with Platelet-Rich Plasma (PRP) therapy has become a groundbreaking approach. It stimulates hair growth by utilizing the growth elements in the patient's blood. The platelet-rich plasma from the patient's blood is separated by centrifugation and injected into the scalp areas that are thinning or losing hair as part of this treatment. The PRP's growth factors energize hair follicles to make new hair by stimulating them. Because of its overall safety, little downtime, and natural-looking outcomes, this non-surgical method is highly favoured. In Toronto, PRP therapy is becoming increasingly popular, with numerous clinics specializing in this cutting-edge technique for hair regrowth.

Hair Transplantation for Permanent Results 

Hair transplantation has been successful for people looking for more long-term remedies for their hair loss. Hair from denser areas is harvested and transplanted into balding regions using the widely used Follicular Unit Excision (FUE) and Follicular Unit Transplantation (FUT) methods. By preserving the transplanted hair's growth potential, this technique produces long-lasting, naturally-appearing results. Toronto's hair loss clinics provide an abundance of cutting-edge facilities and skilled doctors needed for these meticulously performed operations. After surgery, patients see hair growing back in the balding areas, which gives them confidence and self-esteem in addition to their hair.

Laser Hair Therapy for Hair Regrowth 

Another increasingly popular treatment for hair loss is laser hair therapy, sometimes called Low-Level Laser Therapy (LLLT). This non-invasive treatment stimulates the hair follicles on the scalp by utilizing a device that emits low-level lasers, which encourages hair growth. By boosting blood supply to the hair follicles, the technique promotes hair cell metabolism and the creation of new hair. To attain the best outcomes, several sessions of this pleasant and safe process are necessary. Proven effective in treating pattern baldness and thinning hair, LLLT is easily accessible at several Toronto hair loss clinics.

Customized Treatment Plans and Expert Guidance 

Each person's experience with hair loss is unique and influenced by various factors, including age, lifestyle, and genetics. Toronto's hair loss clinics are excellent at creating personalized treatment programs that successfully handle these unique situations. These clinics employ groups of skilled medical specialists who collaborate with patients to identify their requirements, worries, and expectations before suggesting the best course of action. For best effects, this could use a single technique or a combination of approaches. By offering knowledgeable direction at every stage, these specialists make sure patients feel hopeful, at ease, and well-informed, turning hair restoration experiences into experiences of confidence restoration.

Conclusion 

In Toronto, people struggling with hair loss find relief and hope. Solutions are available in various productive techniques, including PRP therapy, hair transplantation, and laser hair therapy. Professionals at hair loss clinics offer their experience to guarantee that every patient obtains a treatment plan tailored to their specific requirements. This tailored strategy ensures optimal effectiveness and contentment. Through these procedures, people can feel confident again, restore their hair, and have the sensation of appearing at their finest. In the end, hair restoration is about recovering a piece of oneself previously believed to be lost, not merely growing new hair. It's about regaining your self-assurance and, because of cutting-edge hair loss treatments in Toronto, facing the world with a proud, fearless, and unapologetically raised head.

Click https://www.distilllaserclinic.com/services/hair-loss-treatment-prp-restoration/ for more information.

[innatewellness]

Naturopathic Medicine Toronto

Today, naturopathic doctors are equally as essential as medical medical doctors in today’s healthcare system. And visiting both may give you an entire strategy to a life that’s freed toronto naturopathic medicine from illness. Naturopathic Medicine or Naturopathy is the artwork and science of disease prognosis, remedy, and prevention by way of pure methods.

This amount of time is needed to obtain an in-depth health historical past as nicely as an overall image of psychological, emotional and bodily elements affecting your present well being standing. If necessary, a complaint-oriented physical exam is performed and an individualized treatment plan is then created to best handle your personal well being targets. Naturopathic medicine blends modern scientific knowledge with traditional and pure types of medicine. The naturopathic philosophy is to stimulate the innate healing power of the physique and deal with the underlying causes of illness. A naturopathic physician is similar to a medical doctor, in that they can diagnose and treat acute issues as well as chronic ailments.

Alopecia, Chronic Telogen Effluvium and Male Pattern Baldness. Treat the Root Cause of Your Hair Loss Effectively with Natural and Safe Therapies. Talk with our Toronto Naturopath and study how you can deal with them naturally without using drugs. To keep my license, I keep my data up-to-date and follow the strict requirements of The College of Naturopaths of Ontario, our regulatory body. Asian Medicine/Acupuncture Traditional medicinal formulas and cupping therapies are used to revive balance within the body.

Only Toronto Location (2045 Dufferin Street Toronto Unit 210 B&C M6E 3R4) provides this service the Grimsby Location does not provide this service. Hypnosis is a technique used to help a person to entry their subconscious mind so as to enhance relaxation, reduce stress, help change habits, improve performance and even improve self-confidence. Located conveniently within the One York tower at one hundred ten Harbour Street, it’s simply accessible to those who stay within the downtown core. We’re also accessible by way of the PATH (and only a 5-minute walk from Union Station), so it’s simple to access us via the TTC as properly. Even higher, if you visit a clinic like HealthOne, you’ll have entry to all these referrals in one handy location!

Did you understand adding naturopathic care to your current well being model ensures you receive effective therapies by a licensed health professional educated in pure and preventative medicine. We are extremely educated major care providers who combine normal medical diagnostics with a broad range of pure therapies. NDs have a minimum of seven years of post-secondary training before finishing 4 years of medical training that features a 12-month medical internship. Naturopathic Doctors take a minimal of three years pre-medical research at college, adopted by four years at a acknowledged accredited school of naturopathic medicine. The schooling encompasses fundamental medical sciences, naturopathic rules and therapeutics and 1500 hours of supervised medical expertise. It’s important for me to actively acknowledge the participation of the naturopathic career in ongoing processes of colonization and oppression.

As Naturopathic medical doctors, we give attention to stopping sickness and treating the underlying explanation for disease utilizing a wide-variety of natural therapies. There are many dietary and lifestyle changes we can help you undertake to enhance your overall health and forestall future sickness toronto center for naturopathic medicine. Physical Examinations Naturopathic Doctors are educated to do full bodily exams as a standard a part of affected person evaluation. As your health modifications or as acute situations come up, we use the bodily examination to aid in diagnosis of your health concerns.

[julieverne]

After HG leaves, Myka starts seeing her everywhere.

A woman in a vest, a leather jacket, a shining head of dark hair, a clip of an accent overheard. Whenever Myka looks again, she's gone, but the despondency Myka feels at the loss of HG never dissipates.

In Colorado Myka thinks she sees her in a jersey in a football crowd.

In Denver Myka thinks she sees her in a library, glasses, knee length skirt, gray woollen cardigan.

In London she passes her in a bank, all leather, and Myka's breath catches.

It's never her, and Pete has started eyeing her with concern when she keeps running up to strangers.

It makes Myka wonder what HG could be, here, in this time. She could be anything - a martial arts instructor, a detective, an author, a doctor. There are no limits to HG's capabilities.

It's in Toronto - there's a long scarf and layers of soft coats and that shiny hair tucked under a toque - Myka feels her heartbeat spike unreasonably but she's been wrong so often that she almost doesn't run after her. Pete says 'go,' and she does, she races down the sidewalk, dodging civilians and street signs, pulling the woman up short by the bicep.

She turns, and it's her, a little surprised at being stopped on the street and Myka feels her muscles tense under her fingers, feels them relax when HG realises it's Myka, already turning to hug her. Myka stumbles backwards and HG steps forwards, catches her and pulls her forward to prevent her from falling into the street. Myka's hands grab at HG's waist, and they stabilise on the sidewalk. HG again attempts to hug Myka, who this time returns it. Myka wants to ask where she has been, what she has done, but she also knows that while HG is in the safe wrap of her arms it doesn't matter.

They pull away when Pete jogs up.

'I can trail our suspect, there's a coffee shop there,' Pete points. 'Stay warm,' he calls behind him as he jogs off again.

It's started to snow, and when Myka turns to look at HG there are slowflakes falling into her hair and eyelids, ones that appear to have already melted on HG's cheeks until Myka realises HG has been crying as Myka held her. HG removes a glove to cup Myka's cheek, wiping away moisture Myka didn't realise was there, and Myka turns her face so her lips touch HG's palm.

'I...' Myka starts, and immediately stops, because 'missed you' isn't enough and 'love you' is too much.

'Me too,' HG says, and uses her grip on Myka to propel her to the coffee shop.

[spine-buster]

The President Wears Prada (William Nylander) | Chapter 25

A/N: So this chapter begins the first mention of COVID-19 for the story.  I know it’s not much but I did want to put a little disclaimer because I know it was a traumatic event for many people, especially those who were affected by it personally.  We will obviously get deeper into it as the story progresses in the next chapters (judging by the date...it’s time!) 

Also, no @’ing me about what happens here with a certain someone.

March 2nd, 2020

Aberdeen Bloom was paying attention to the news at the airport.

“While the first case of what epidemiologists are referring to as COVID-19 was recorded in Toronto on January 25th, the novel coronavirus is still baffling some scientists in terms of its symptoms.  They range from severe in some, to completely asymptomatic in others.  While there are currently less than twenty cases in Toronto thus far, Ontario health officials have recorded three news cases today.  One is a man in his 60s who returned on a flight from Egypt, while the other two are women in their 60s and 70s returning on a flight from Egypt.  Public health officials are encouraging individuals to wash their hands frequently and exercise caution whenever and wherever possible.”

“Want some hand sanitizer?” John asked from beside her.  He was laid out in the chair beside her while her knees were against her chest.

She nodded, leaving her bag of pretzels in her lap before she extended her hand and he squirted some Purell onto her hand.  John always had everything readily available – hand sanitizer, band aids, healthy granola bars, breath mints – she was sure he probably had a spare hair elastic in his backpack too, and a full surgery kit for all she knew.  She rubbed the sanitizer in between her hands.  “What do you think about all this?” she asked, motioning towards the TV monitor.

John shrugged.  “I’m a bit nervous about it,” he admitted.  “I know that Aryne is taking some extra precautions with Jace.  A lot of her friends from Queen’s ended up going to med school so she’s friends with a lot of doctors and listening to their advice.”

“I guess we should all be.”

“Wouldn’t hurt, right?” John asked rhetorically.  “Better safe than sorry.  What do you think about it?”

Aberdeen pursed her lips slightly.  “I have no clue.  Science goes way above my head.  But if doctors and epidemiologists are going to tell me to do something – or not do something – so I don’t get sick, I’m going to do it – or not do it – whatever.”

“Atta girl,” John smiled.  “Just listen to the experts.”

“That’s why I listen to you about hockey,” she winked.

He laughed out loud.  “You butter me up too much.  What are you looking for?  A granola bar?  You already have pretzels.”

“Not everything with me has to do with food.”

“Really?”

She pinched him.

***

March 5th, 2020

It was 24 Celsius in Los Angeles, and Aberdeen was loving it.  Though the Leafs had suffered a bit of an embarrassing loss to San Jose the night before, today the team had a day off before they had back to back games against the Kings and Ducks.  Some of them were going shopping on Rodeo Drive (Auston, Frederik), and some were visiting old friends since being traded (Kyle, Jack), but most were doing exactly what Aberdeen wanted to do: going to the beach.

They decided on Malibu Beach.  It was only a thirty minute drive from the hotel, so Aberdeen put on her bathing suit and packed herself in a car with John, Jason, and Justin Holl.  William, Rasmus, Kappy, and Pierre followed in another, with Tyson and Mitch tagging along in the last car too.  It may not have been super-hot to Californians, but for sun-starved Canadians, it would do.  The sun was out, there wasn’t a cloud in the sky, and she was going to tan the entire afternoon.  She would take advantage of it as much as possible.

As she helped set up the blankets and beach towels, she watched as Mitch and Tyson already stripped down to their bathing suits and ran into the ocean together.  Pierre was setting up some Bluetooth speakers and John was passing around the sunscreen.  The visual of these men rubbing sunscreen across their abs made Aberdeen’s heart flutter – but then the image of them having to slather sunscreen all over each other’s backs brought her back down to earth.  She chuckled to herself and shook her head.

“Aberdeen, sunscreen!” John tossed the bottle towards her.  She caught it and stripped down to her tankini before squirting some onto her legs and arms, making sure to cover herself thoroughly.  She could tell William was watching but trying not to make it seem like he was.  Jason took care of her back.  

The guys did their own thing while Aberdeen read her book and tanned.  She could hear them screaming every now and then and watched as they gave each other piggyback rides and splashed water at each other like they were a peewee hockey team on a weekend tournament.  Every now and again someone would come back to the blankets and beach towels to relax, but soon enough, they were back in the ocean, being loud and obnoxious but happy, happy boys.

“Whatcha reading?” Tyson asked as he walked towards her, wet from the salt water and sand sticking to his legs.  She flashed the book at him – Milkman by Anna Burns – and he squinted his eyes to see it properly in the sunlight.  “Is it about milk?” he asked.

She shorted.  She remembered back to when she was reading Women Talking by Miriam Toews and William asked “Do women talk in it?” like a smartass.  “It’s about a woman in what’s very obviously Belfast coming of age during the Troubles.  I thought it might give me some more insight into what my mom grew up in.”

“Is it any good?  Was it as good as the one you were reading last week on the plane?  Normal Girls or whatever it was?”

Aberdeen giggled.  “Normal People, you mean?  No, it’s not as good as that.  Fuck, I loved that book.”

“I know.  You wouldn’t shut up about it!” he joked, wiping his body off.  From behind him, Aberdeen could see John making his way towards them.  William was still off in the ocean, throwing a football between him, Pierre, and Mitch.  “Think you can teach Mitch how to read?”

Aberdeen smiled.  “I can certainly try.”

As if on cue, Mitch’s booming voice was heard.  “Hey T-Bear!  Get over here!” he yelled, putting everything he had into his throw of the football so it reached Tyson, who caught it expertly.

“See ya later, Aberdeen,” he said before running off, throwing the football towards Pierre who had to dive into the water to catch it.

Instead of focusing on the water cascading down Pierre’s abs or the sunlight hitting William’s broad shoulders perfectly, making him look like some Norse god, she focused her attention on John.  “You feeling good?” she asked.

“The best,” he nodded, wiping himself off before lying the towel down again and sitting on it, bringing his knees up and wrapping his arms around them.  “You’ve already gotten some colour,” he commented.

“Thank God,” she said, looking down at her arms.  “The winter has made me so pale.  It’s a bummer I didn’t get my dad’s skin tone.  My sister and brother got lucky with that.”

“You took after the Scottish side?” he asked.  Aberdeen nodded.  “I get it,” he said.  “Aryne can’t tan either.  She burns too easily.”

“Wonder if the Swedes are going to look like tomatoes in a couple of hours,” she said, nodding her head towards them.  “Imagine they’re on TV and beet red?  I might get fired for not slathering sunscreen on you guys or not telling you to put on some hats.”

John laughed out loud, choosing to lean back on his elbows.  “I don’t know about that, Aberdeen.  Something tells me you’ll be around for a long time if certain people have anything to say about it – well, until you want to leave, that is.”

Aberdeen’s body stiffened slightly at his words.  “Wh…what do you mean?” she asked.  

“Ah, nothing serious, Aberdeen.  Don’t worry,” he said, shaking his head.  With the silence between them, Aberdeen thought he may have dropped it, but he didn’t.  He was just preparing to articulate what he wanted to say.  “It’s not just Brendan liking you, you know.  We know William has, like, the biggest crush on you, okay?  We’re all adults here,” he said to her shock.  “It’s cute, but we all know it’s harmless.”

“It is harmless,” she stressed.

“I know, Aberdeen.  Don’t worry.”

“Don’t for a second forget that you’re all Toronto Maple Leafs,” she said.  “Every job in this organization is a dream job for someone and you guys forget that some people spend their entire lives, their entire careers, building up their resumes waiting to get hired by this organization.  Nobody would ever, ever, under any circumstances, want to do anything to fuck it up, because once you’re done here, there’s nowhere else to go.”

“I knooooow, I know.  I’m just ribbing you like we rib him about it,” he smiled.  He was so jovial about it all that Aberdeen calmed down a bit.  He wasn’t trying to get to the bottom of something like he was when he and Morgan asked her about Ethan – he was just being good-humoured.  A human, not a captain of a hockey team.  Maybe her overreaction was a bit much but she needed to remain guarded and vigilant about it if ever, and whenever the guys brought it up.  “He looks at you googly-eyed all the time even though he knows nothing’s ever gonna happen.  I’m pretty sure he’d cry whenever you leave.”

Aberdeen snorted.  Cry from joy, probably, because that would mean they could actually touch each other in public.  “He told you that?  That nothing is ever gonna happen?”

John nodded his head.  “Well, nothing’s ever gonna happen as long as you work here,” he clarified.  “But don’t tell him I told you.  He kind of figures and we all know it’s a lost cause as long as you’re working here.”

Aberdeen nodded, deciding not to say anything as she looked out into the distance.  The boys were still throwing the football, and Justin was attempting a yoga pose on the beach.  She picked up her book and buried her head in it.

***

Adrian Kempe, a Swedish friend of William’s, recommended a taco restaurant in Malibu for the group to have dinner.  It wasn’t a far drive from where they were on the beach, so at around six in the evening, they shook the sand off the towels and packed them back in the cars and headed to Café Habana.  Aberdeen was in the car with John, Jason, and Justin again.  

When they arrived at the restaurant, she looked out the backseat window to see Kappy making a beeline towards someone.  The girl, Aberdeen soon noticed, was Saylor.  She figured Saylor was here for another modelling gig, though Aberdeen did find it somewhat amusing that Saylor always popped up in cities or areas with…well, shall we say distractions.  She was in New York.  Las Vegas.  Aberdeen knew she’d been to Florida.  Now she was in LA.  Saylor didn’t go Columbus or Colorado.  

“Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiii,” Saylor squealed as she saw Willy, wrapping her arms around him and squeezing him.  “Surrrrrpriiiiise!”

“Surprise,” he smirked, but Aberdeen could tell he wasn’t as excited as she was.  “Here for some modelling?”

“Who wouldn’t want to come down to LA to model?  I just came from a shoot,” she said, now focusing her attention on Aberdeen.  “Hey girl!” she squealed again.  

“Hi Saylor,” she smiled.

“I’m so glad I won’t be the only girl here tonight,” she smirked.  “The boys can get so boring sometimes.”

“Aberdeen’s used to it by now,” Jason piped in.  “She’s only been travelling with us since September.”

The group moved towards the restaurant and were seated in the back patio at a long table.  Aberdeen was squished in between Jason and John, and directly across from her sat Willy, Pierre to his right and Saylor to his left.  Saylor and Kasperi didn’t even have to sit down to ask the waiter and waitress attending to them if they had oysters.  They didn’t.  With one quick look at the menu, and a disproportionately long discussion requiring everybody’s calculators to be out to determine how many orders of tacos were required for everybody to have three tacos each (much to Aberdeen’s entertainment), the group ordered four orders of every taco variation (and there were five of them) on the menu, along with some sides of baby broccoli, sautéed zucchini, and French fries.  As a dining group of 11, it should have been more than enough food.  She felt bad for the chefs, but knew the food would be amazing.  She saw it being brought to a table near them and it looked delectable.  

While Aberdeen maintained professionalism at all times when she was in front of the guys, when the tacos came, that professionalism waned.  She made sure to grab the four tacos she was guaranteed and wanted and piled them onto her plate.  They looked delicious.  Even as she bit into her first one, she moaned audibly at the taste, making the guys around her laugh.  Willy eyed her as she did so, taking a bite out of his own.

“So what have you been up to?” Saylor asked Aberdeen as she crunched on a French fry.  “Kappy told me it was your birthday?”

“It was!  I turned 22.”

“Ohmigod, I remember my 22nd birthday.  We went to the rooftop bar at the Bowery Hotel in New York City,” Saylor said.  Aberdeen knew it would be something ultra-luxurious because that was the only way Saylor seemed to roll.  “What did you end up doing?”

“Oh, a bunch of friends and I just got a booth and bottle service at a club.  Nothing as fancy as that,” Aberdeen answered.  

“How many were you?”

“I’d say about twenty.”

Saylor’s eyes bulged a bit.  “When you get older, your friend group gets soooo small,” she said, her tone making it seem like she was the all-knowledgeable big sister bestowing wise knowledge upon Aberdeen.  Saylor was only a year older than her.  If it was Jen, Aryne, or Bee giving this advice, fine – but not Saylor.  “My friend group is so small now.  All the drama that goes on between people is just so tiring, you know?  Less people, less drama.”

Aberdeen didn’t want to be rude, so she nodded her head.  “I can get that.  These are all people I’ve known since high school and throughout university, though.  We’ve already been friends for a long time.”

“And you’re still friends with them?” Saylor asked.

Aberdeen nodded her head.  Before she could say anything else, John piped up.  “I think that’s a testament to your character more so than anything, Aberdeen.”

“But it could also speak to, like, the way people are,” Saylor went on.  Aberdeen indulged her, looking at her so she would continue.  “Like, when I was in high school – my family is from Lake Forest, and I went to Lake Forest Academy – I found out this one friend was talking behind my back and I totally ditched her.  But then we ended up at the same college, and it was really weird for a while, but then we ended up becoming friends!”

Aberdeen didn’t know what point she was trying to make.  Neither did anybody else listening, judging by the looks on their faces.  “That’s good you were able to turn the relationship around,” she commented, not knowing what else to say.

Saylor looked very proud of herself.  “Besides that, what else have you been up to?  Are you still just, like, Brendan’s assistant?”

Aberdeen bit her tongue to smile curtly.  “Just.”

“And a great one at that,” Jason said before stuffing his mouth with a taco.

“I guess that’s enough for you,” Saylor commented.

Aberdeen almost dropped her taco.  So did Jason.  Willy was looking in between them.  She didn’t know how to respond at this point and not sound rude when Saylor’s rudeness was so blatantly obvious.  Aberdeen still wasn’t sure whether or not Saylor actually had the capacity to be underhanded.  She was starting to err on the side of Saylor knowing exactly what she was saying to people but saying it in such a way and with such a tone that everyone thought she was just dumb and didn’t know better.  Aberdeen began to believe Saylor did know better, and her act wasn’t fooling Aberdeen anymore.  It made her reconsider what Saylor said to her in New York about her nose.  “It’s actually not enough for me, but it’s what’s paying the bills right now and I’m not going to discuss career aspirations at the dinner table in front of people who are technically my colleagues and who don’t want to see me leave anytime soon.”

“But you can’t be in a job you hate just because it pays the bills!” she said like some dreamer.  “You need to go out there and be creative!  Cultivate!  Be artistic!  Design!  Sometimes the best opportunities come when you just drop everything, quit your job, and start hustling as you do what you love!”

Aberdeen felt her blood begin to boil.  She tried to remain calm.  “One – I never said I hated my job.  I love this job and I love the people I work with,” she clarified.  “Two – that’s a bit easy to say for someone with family money who grew up in Lake Forest and went to a private school.  I have rent to pay.  Bills – groceries, my cell phone, internet, stuff for my cat – I can’t just up and quit my job with a steady income to hustle and be creative when I have a shit ton of responsibilities.”

“I’m sure your parents would help you if it’s your dream and it’s something you really wanted to do.”

“No, they wouldn’t,” Aberdeen deadpanned.  “My parents have their own shit to deal with.  My mom would kick my ass if I was that stupid.  I mean, my parents are immigrants, so that goes without saying.  They don’t owe me a dollar, and I would never ask them for it.  I would never do that to them.”

“What about your grandparents?”

Aberdeen could feel John, Jason, Pierre, and Willy deflate at the question.  It was almost comical.  “I think you’re missing the point, Saylor,” Jason said nicely.  “Aberdeen is already hustling to get to an end-goal of writing.  This job is actually helping her get to that goal.”

“Writing?” Saylor questioned.  “I thought for sure you wanted to, like, work in sports or broadcasting or something.  Writing, then?  That makes sense, I guess.  Better for you to stick behind the cameras.”

Aberdeen wondered if everybody else could hear what Saylor was saying too.  She felt like she was in the twilight zone or something.  It confirmed to her that Saylor knew exactly what she was saying.  “Yeah, I guess.  Kind of how it’s better for you to be in front of the cameras because you thrive on attention.”

“Yes!  Modelling is all about getting attention and hype around your brand,” she smiled sincerely, so happy that the topic was back on her and her modelling.  She didn’t get the subtle dig at her…extracurricular activities that took up more of people’s attention than any work or collaborations or modelling she’d done.  “I’m working so hard to build mine now, which is why I’m in LA having meetings and doing more collabs.”

“Is modelling enough for you?” Jason asked.

Aberdeen almost spit out her water, but Willy beat her to it.  She saw Saylor’s face light up even more.  “Oh my God, yes.  I looove modelling.  I’m soooo into the creative aspect of it and building my brand.”

“That’s great, Saylor,” Aberdeen smiled.  “I’m really glad that it’s working out for you considering how much you love it.”

“Thanks, girl,” she winked.  “It’s hard because the industry is so saturated these days.  I mean we were talking about this in New York.  Every girl with an iPhone, some makeup, and good angles thinks she’s a model.  It really takes someone creative like me to stand out.  Someone with a unique look and a unique brand,” she went on.  “Like your nose, you know?  It’s big.  Huge.  We talked about that.  You could get a nose job, or you could work with it.  Most would get a nose job.”  

Jason was ready for Aberdeen to snap.  So was John.  So was Pierre.  But William knew better.  When he saw Aberdeen smile, close-mouthed, just a hint of a coy grin playing on her face, he knew better.  “I have a Virginia Woolf nose,” Aberdeen said.  “It reminds me of how much I want to become a writer and not a model.”

***

“I feel like I just watched a WWE match on pay-per-view,” Aberdeen overheard Justin say to Jason in a low voice as they trailed behind her in the parking lot (he sat beside Jason during the meal and had heard everything, but even if he hadn’t sat beside him, Aberdeen had a feeling he still would have heard).  After the tacos were eaten, everybody decided to call it a night and go back to the hotel – well, mostly everyone.  Saylor wanted to go out for drinks somewhere else in Malibu.  Everybody else politely declined.

“Yeah, except it was pretty one-sided,” Jason said in an equally low voice.  “It’s like Aberdeen was Stone Cold Steve Austin and Saylor was the poor jobber her stunnered every Monday night.”

“You picked up on the nose comment too, right?  I mean she was basically telling Aberdeen to get a nose job?” Justin asked.

“Yup,” Jason popped the P sound.  

“I thought I was going crazy when I heard it.”

“Yeah, me too.  But from what I’ve heard from Jen I didn’t expect more from her.”

“It’s good that Aberdeen is mature.  I think if it were me at 22, I would have lunged across the table,” Justin commented.

***

“Who’s Virginia Woolf?”

Aberdeen was lying naked in her hotel bed, tits out, with William lying by her side after he’d fucked her, and that was the question he asked.  Aberdeen smiled.  She loved William and she knew him – she really did, at least she liked to think – but sometimes she didn’t understand how his brain worked.  She knew she liked to call him “Head Empty”, but sometimes she wasn’t so sure.  He clearly had thoughts.  He just brought them up at weird times.  “She was a writer in the early 1900s,” she answered, laughing slightly.

“And you want to be like her?”

She shook her head.  “I’d like my writing to be like her writing.”

“Why don’t you want to be like her?”

“She filled her pockets with rocks and committed suicide by drowning herself in the river behind her home,” she said, looking over at him.  His face was blank, processing the information, and she smiled wider.  “Maybe if my writing was like hers, I’d actually get published in Toronto Life or something.”

“You’ll never know if you don’t try.”

Her smile faded.  She hadn’t told him yet.  She’d wanted to keep it to herself for as long as possible because she didn’t want to burden him with the news.  “I did try.  I sent in one of my personal essays and they rejected it.  They sent me the email on my birthday.”

William remained silent.  He saw the look on Aberdeen’s face and knew that she felt embarrassed and disappointed – in herself, in her writing.  He wrapped an arm around her and propped himself up on his elbow so he could look down at her.  “Minskatt…”

“Don’t, Willy.  You’re going to make me cry.”

“No,” he shook his head, not accepting what she was saying.  “After the Carolina game you told me I needed to talk more and that you’d listen.  Well, you need to talk now and I’ll listen,” he said.  “Talk to me, minskatt.  I’m listening.”

Tears welled in her eyes, and it wasn’t because of her writing getting rejected anymore.  It was because of the man hovering over her.  His head may by empty, but Aberdeen was sure his heart was full of gold.  She didn’t know how she got so lucky.  She didn’t know how he was hers.  “I just don’t know how much more rejection I can take,” she whispered.  “I try and I try and I write and I write and I read so I can write better and nothing is working.  Nothing,” her voice was shaky.  “I just want an editor to read my writing and say ‘This is what I’ve been looking for all along.’  But that hasn’t happened yet.  And I’m scared it’s never going to happen.”

“It’ll happen one day, minskatt.  I promise you,” William encouraged as he tightened his grip around her with his one arm.  “You’re so talented.  Your dreams are going to come true and you’re going to look back and wonder why you ever doubted yourself.”

“Do you doubt me?” she asked suddenly.

“No,” William said without hesitation.  “Not for a second.”

Aberdeen stayed silent, bringing a hand up to wipe the few tears that had fallen down the side of her face.  She rested it on William’s forearm draped across her body.  “When I get like this, all my insecurities come out.  About my future, about everything.  Maybe I was never destined to be a writer.  Maybe I was destined to be a personal assistant or a bank teller.  Maybe I was destined just to be normal girl with a big nose and nothing special.”

“How can you say you’re nothing special when you’re my treasure?” he asked, burying his face in the crook of her neck and placing a light kiss there.  She couldn’t help but smile, and he smiled at the fact he made her smile.  “That has to count for something, right minskatt?” he stressed the word.

She nodded.  “It counts for everything.”  She looked directly into his baby blues, barely blinking.  “The second I leave here I’m going to plant the biggest kiss on your lips, Willy.  You have absolutely no idea.”

That caused William to laugh out loud before he bent down and gave her a quick kiss.  “Not if I beat you to it,” he said.

“You won’t.  Trust me.  God, I can hardly wait,” she said.  “I still don’t know why you keep waiting for me.”

“Are you listening?” he asked.

“Mhm.”

“I wait for you because I love you.  Because I love everything about you.”

“Even my big nose?”

“My favourite part of you,” he kissed the tip of it.  She could have cried again.  “It’s what makes you you.  I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

When she craned her neck to kiss him, she made sure to wrap her arms around his body and pull him close, wanting to feel his body on top of hers.  He got the hint, and stuck his tongue down her throat, and they kissed until he was hard again.  Though he hadn’t expected a second round, he was more than willing to partake.  He even made sure to bring extra condoms.  He always did now – since Valentine’s Day.  He had them everywhere: in his wallet, in his suitcase, in his shoe.  “I love you minskatt,” he mumbled against her lips.

She didn’t respond at first.  But when she did, it was with something he wasn’t expecting.  “Tell me how you want me.”

He froze for a brief second, the previous conversation they were just having still fresh in his mind.  “What?”

“Do you want me from behind?  On top?” she asked in a breathy voice.

He groaned.  “On top.”  

They switched positions so he was lying on his back.  Aberdeen climbed on top of him.  “Willy?” she asked.  “Can we…can we try something different?”

He nodded quickly.  “What is it, Aberdeen?”

“Can we…” she began, almost a bit embarrassed.  “Can I try reverse cowgirl?”

William couldn’t help but smile.  “Of course,” he said, gripping at her hips.  

“D’you have another condom?”

“My back pocket.”

She dismounted him, leaning over the bed to grab his pants on the floor and retrieve the packet.  When she straddled him again, she did it so her back was to his face.  He could feel her pump him a few times before she rolled on the condom, and he sighed at the feeling.  She looked over her shoulder at him.  “I love you, Willy.”

“I love you too,” he said, his hands back on her hips.  He helped her lower herself onto him, the both of the moaning at the feeling.  He loved watching himself disappear inside of her.  He noticed she wasn’t moving yet.  “You okay?” he asked.  

Aberdeen nodded her head.  “It feels so good,” she said.  “I’ve never…you know…”

“It’s okay,” he said, understanding what she wasn’t saying.  He couldn’t believe that her previous sexual partners were so selfish that they never let her explore what she liked or what she could possibly like or positions she could do.  He shuddered at the thought of her potentially asking and being turned down.  It made him angry just thinking about it.  He didn’t want her to be that way with him.  He wanted her to be completely open.  “Do what you feel comfortable with, minskatt.”

She began rolling her hips back and forth.  William groaned in response, and he could feel Aberdeen’s hands grip his thighs and her nails dig in slightly.  As she rocked herself on his cock, she began to moan, gasping out anytime William would buck his hips slightly.  He had to admit he liked the view, but what he liked even more was that she was enjoying herself on top of him, doing what she wanted.  

“Willy?” she asked suddenly.  She looked over her shoulder at him again.  She looked so innocent and he knew that she meant to do it, and he almost exploded right then and there as she bat her eyelashes at him.  “Can you…can you come up here?”

He did as he was told, pushing himself up and wrapping his arms around her body.  He kissed her back and dragged his lips along her skin to her shoulder and neck.  “What is it, minskatt?” he asked.

“What if I wanted to try more?”

If it was possible, William felt even hotter.  The sound of her voice saying those words was…indescribable.  “What do you mean?”

“You just make me feel so good.  I’ve never had anybody make me feel this way.  I feel so comfortable with you,” she said.  “You…I feel safe to try things with you.  Things I couldn’t try with other guys.”

He knew what she was getting at.  He placed a tender kiss on her shoulder.  “What do you want to try?” he asked.  She remained silent, wondering if she should have even said anything.  “Don’t be ashamed, minskatt.  What do you want me to do?”

She hesitated.  “D’you…can you pinch my nipples?”

He smiled because it was such a simple request.  He brought his hands up and cupped her breasts, pinching her nipples between his thumb and index fingers.  He felt her sharp intake of breath and her head leaned back into his shoulder.  He could tell by her reaction that she wanted more.  “What else?” he asked, biting down on her skin near her shoulder.  “What are you not telling me?”

“That,” she stressed.  He didn’t know what she meant.  “The bite.  You—You can fuck me, Willy.  I want you to fuck me.  You can be rougher with me.  I think I’ll like it.”

When William heard those words and how she emphasized them, he wanted to make sure.  Needed to make sure.  The first time they had sex it was a good old-fashioned hookup.  The second time they had sex they’d made love.  In subsequent times since, it was mostly making love, if only because they had waited so long to finally be together and that was what they wanted to “release” – love.  But now, with those words being said, he knew Aberdeen was ready to take the next step.  She was willing to go further.  She trusted him to go further with her, and only wanted to do it with him.  “Yeah?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she nodded.  “I trust you.  Fuck me, Willy.”

He pinched her nipples again, harder this time, and she gasped.  He started to move his hips too, moving inside of her, and she began to moan again.  Without warning, he fell back down on the bed, bringing her with him so her back was flush against his chest, though her knees were still bent and he was still in her.  This was definitely a new position for her, judging by her reaction – a quick “oh fuck” escaping her lips.  He heard her breathing get heavier as she felt one of his hands snake down from her breasts and on to her clit.  “Willy…” she moaned out.  

He started pounding into her, using his athletic physique to be able to so with such force in a new angle she’d never felt before.  Her moans fuelled him, and the moans changed to slight whimpers when he started rubbing at her clit.  “Fuck, Willy…” she managed to get out.

But he wasn’t done.  At least he didn’t want to be done.  His other hand, still pinching her nipple, moved up to her neck.  “Willy,” she mewled, bringing her own hand up and placing it over his.

“Is that okay?” he whispered into her ear.  He wasn’t applying any pressure – it was just sort of there – but that was apparently enough for her.  He wouldn’t have felt comfortable going further, anyway, at least without her verbalizing something.

“Yes Willy, fuck,” she arched her back.  “Fuck me.  Fuck me harder.”

He increased his pace.  Her cries let him know that even with those simple actions, she was feeling pleasure.  She was liking it.  She was getting what she wanted from him.  That was the only thing he wanted.  “I want you to cum all over my cock, Aberdeen,” he growled into her ear.  She didn’t answer, but when she arched her back again, he felt her walls tighten around his cock and he knew she was done.  He let himself find his release too, groaning in pleasure as her body writhed on top of his.  He didn’t stop rubbing her clit until her hand went over his to stop him.  Her body went still as he slipped out of her and she fell to his side, trying to regain her breath.  

After a couple of minutes, she curled around to face him.  “I know that was probably really tame but it was new for me.”

William shook his head.  He didn’t want her to feel nervous about anything.  “Baby steps,” he kissed her.  

“No guy has ever, like…asked what I like in the bedroom,” she admitted.  “So I couldn’t explore things.  Well I didn’t feel comfortable exploring things.  But I know I can with you.”

William nodded his head.  “Don’t worry, minskatt.  We can start slow.  No need to rush.  You can tell me what you like and where you’re willing to go.”

“You too.”

“Hmm?”

“You tell me what you like and where you’re willing to go, and I’ll go there with you too.”

He nodded his head, smiling.  “I love you.”

“I love you too.  More than anything.”

[courtneyholmbergnd]

What you need to know about Hyperandrogenism in PCOS?

PCOS an abbreviation of the polycystic ovarian syndrome is one of the medical conditions found in women. Normally, this condition is faced by women that are of reproductive age. This medical condition hampers women physically and emotionally. If PCOS is diagnosed with you, consulting a good naturopath like Courtney naturopathic doctor in Toronto can be a good option.

Basic idea about hyperandrogenism

It is highly common in PCOS, and it is due to high DHEA and testosterone levels in the blood. These are the two androgen hormones considered to be synonymous at the time it comes to accessing the complete androgen burden. However, there is a difference between these two.  Some of the women that suffer PCOS might have high DHEA levels while having normal testosterone levels or vice-versa. Also, it is not necessary to have a cyst over the ovaries to have hyperandrogenism, or cyst on the ovaries refers to having elevated androgens. If you are suffering from PCOS, some of the symptoms you might notice are acne, oily complexion, hair loss, irregular ovulation patterns, long menstrual cycle, or hair growth in areas like chin, navel, etc. If you are witnessing any of these symptoms, it is good to consult a good naturopath Toronto.

​Managing hyperandrogenism

When it comes to managing hyperandrogenism is concerned, the very first thing that needs to be done is to know the root cause of hormonal imbalance. For some women, the root cause of hormonal imbalance can be improper diet and lifestyle or lack of exercise. Women that consume lots of alcohol, caffeine, or sugar might face such hormonal imbalance. It is crucial to know the main cause of elevated androgen development, it is only then this problem can be dealt with. You can seek assistance for identifying the cause and managing the imbalance from a good naturopath Toronto.

Treatment for hyperandrogenism

Some of the treatment plans that need to be involved for dealing with hyperandrogenism are as follows:

An antioxidant

Most of the naturopath Toronto suggest including vitamin D, NAC, and resveratrol for treating this imbalance. These antioxidants assist in optimizing the quality of the egg, reducing oxidative stress, and supporting healthy ovulation.

Reductase inhibitors

There are some vitamins and herbs which can help in reducing the operation of the enzyme. Such enzymes are the cause for transforming testosterone in dihydrotestosterone which might show symptoms severe as compared to testosterone which is related to androgenic alopecia.

Blood sugar stabilization

It is recommended to include foods that can help in stabilizing the blood sugar level. It is not only the food that needs to be included, exercises are the must. Diet and exercise together with help in maintaining steady blood sugar levels.

Weight management

To deal with this, it is important to manage weight. Around half of the testosterone is developed in the adipose tissue for women. When a woman can lose weight it helps in lessening down androstenedione transformation of testosterone levels in the periphery.

These are some of the suggested options to include in the treatment plan. However, you can get the perfect treatment plan only after proper diagnosis and assessment from a good naturopath Toronto. If you are planning to consult a good and reliable naturopath, schedule an appointment with Dr. Courtney Holmberg!​

For more information about the naturopathic doctor, do follow us on Google Maps, yalwa and bbb.

[rebsrams]

A case of you (Ethan x F!MC)  part II

Book: Open Heart

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey and MC (Dr. Rebecca Valentine)

Warnings: none. Just utterly romantic fluff.

Summary: part II of my fic A case of you. Find part I here.

Word count: 1,377   

@openheartfanfics​

"On the back of a cartoon coaster

In the blue TV screen light

I drew a map of Canada

Oh, Canada

With your face sketched on it twice"

Then he saw her.

Just standing there, in the gloomy blue reflection of the tv placed on a shelf above her head.

She was swiping her finger delicately on the rim of the glass, a few coppery curls partially blocking her view.

He noticed than she had a map of some place he didn't recognize from that distance, with something sketched upon it, a few lines which from where he was standing didn't make any sense. 

"Rookie."

He called for her, breathless from the run and completely stunned by her natural beauty. 

But most of all, he was thankful to see her there, still waiting for him.

She looked up, her eyes glimmering with surprise and pure joy.

She hadn't heard him call her like that in a really long time, and suddenly they both someway felt brought like a rush to the start of it all.

That first day at the hospital, the first nights they gazed at each other through glasses of scotch on the rocks with the chattering of her friends in the background.

The coffees they secretly shared, because he couldn't stand that anyone else knew the existence of his precious and miracolous coffee machine.

That night spent together next to baby Ethan, while Ethan senior was still grieving for the loss of his mother.

That was the night he knew that anything was the same anymore. 

That he couldn't live peacefully without her.

 And he wouldn't. 

She immediately stood up, her lower lip already trembling for the excitement. "Dr. Ramsey." she managed to say, voice shaking and weak in the knees. 

She dreamed so much about this moment. 

She knew he was gonna tell her something that was going to change her life, for better of for worse. 

They finally met in front of the table, merely a couple of inches between them. He just gazed into her eyes, afraid that by saying anything he would have ruined the incredible moment they were living.

 A moment of awareness.

 "Listen, Ethan, you don't really have to say anything at all, I-I'm incredibily sorry for what..."

"I love you." 

The sentence cut into her clumsy speech like a shard of glass, sudden and sure. Eyes wide and gaping, a thin "what?" was everything she could actually manage to say in return. 

He quickly took her by the shoulders, as if to shake some sense into her, and repeated, even more sure than before: "I love you, Rebecca. Your clumsiness, and your incredible kindness, and altruism, your impatience and the little wrinkle on your forehead that it causes you when you have to wait for an important result. I love that you always take the same time to come to my office after I paged you, always a little breathless because you ran up the stairs to be quicker. I love your freshness, and the incredible irony you have, worthy of your stunning mind. I love the fire that you hold inside, igniting you from the bone, even when it's directed towards me." at that point,she let out a small chuckle, beginning to sniff loudly. 

"I love that you're so emotional" he continued, wiping her tears with his thumb "that you cried all night after that one of your long time patients left the hospital for good because you could heal him. I love you, Rebecca. And I don't want to hide anymore." 

Now, he was cupping her cheeks with both of his big and warm hands. 

"Are you going to make my heart stop?" she said, nearly choking with her tears. "Couldn't you just... I don't know, deliver the news in small doses?" 

Now was his turn to chuckle, a giggle which turned into a deeply laugh that filled his chest. 

"What was that saying of yours... Go big or go home, right?"

Just like he imagined, she threw her arms around his neck and began to pepper his face with kisses, until their mouths finally encountered in what seemed the seal to a silent pact. 

No more lies. No more running.

They stood there, in each other's arms, foreheads touching and inebriated grins on their faces for what seemed an eternity.

Eventually, they sat to share a drink together, cherishing the moment a little more.

"What is it that you have there?"

He pointed to the map she was sketching upon, catching her cheeks turning red.

"Oh, just a little... Nothing, really"

He could easily smell the lie, picking the map of what looked like...

"Canada? And... Is it my face that you were drawing?"

"It's a long story."

"I have plenty of time. Plus, I'm not going anywhere." he said, kissing the back of her hand.

She let out a long sigh.

"Well, long story short... I was offered a job at the Toronto General hospital, a few days ago. I must admit that I really thought about moving my residency there, escaping from my problems and starting a new life. I even bought this map yesterday, hoping it would have gave me the courage to finally face the decision.Then... I found myself sketching your face on it, twice, and hoping that you wouldn't forget me once I got away. That you could forgive me, if I went there. Now I'm so ashamed... I just want to dig deep and hide!"

She let go of his hand and dug both hands in the mess of her curls, a dismayed expression on her face.

"Rebs, sweetheart. I should be the one ashamed, here. You have to forgive me. For the way I treated you, for backing away when you needed me the most, for being so fucking scared of making you suffer just by being by your side that I hurt you anyway. That is a thing I could never forgive myself for, but you have to. I couldn't live otherwise."

He tilted her chin up to make her face him, giving her a quick nod.

"Let me take you home." he said almost in a whisper.

Now was her turn to nod, a brief smile hanging loose on her lips.

"You're in my blood like holy wine

You taste so bitter and so sweet, ohI could drink a case of you

Still I'd be on my feet

Oh, I would still be on my feet"

Three years later, Dr. Ethan Ramsey was sitting on the couch of his apartment, her wife's head in the slope of his neck while he gently caressed her belly, swollen by six months of pregnancy.

"Judy, dear, I already told you that you'll have to wait a little longer before meeting us. We're quite impatient too, your mommy especially, but that is no reason to kick the hell out of her." Ethan whispered softly to her womb.

"Ethan! That's not quite the way to talk to a baby, you know."

While playfully reproaching him, she shuffled his hair in a way that made his heart melt like the first time she laid her hands on him.

"Maybe we should blame it on the alcohol. I think that three glasses of that pinot noir i drank with Naveen this evening had me quite dizzy. I still can't imagine how a man of his age who once was on the verge of death and ready to let everything go could take the alcohol that way."

"Maybe it's my presence that makes you so dizzy, uh? I saw you enter that door quite decently just half an hour ago." she mocked him, remembering him stumble through the doorstep.

"Trust me, my dear, you're the only thing that's keeping me on my feet and going. You, and this funny little thing in here" 

He kissed her belly affectionately, unspoken prayers carried with the simplicity of that gesture. 

"Have I ever told you that I love you, Doctor Ethan Jonah Ramsey?" she replied, giving him a peck on the lips.

Something about his full name said by her wife's full lips filled him with pride and a touch of lust that he could never resist, no matter how hard he tried.

"Quite a few times, I guess."

With a swift movement, despite her several months of pregnancy and his actual dizziness, he lift her up and brought her to their bedroom, ready to cherish her once more as he always did since that night of three years before. 

Aaaand here we go! Hope you liked the second part.

I had a lot of fun writing this.

Feel free to report any mistake (as I already said, I’m not a native speaker and I’d really like to improve, so your help is more than well received!)

Also, I’m trying to gather a taglist, so let me know if you’re interested in my writing and want to stay up to date on my MC adventures!

[dramauricaversan]

Naturopath Doctor In Toronto Dr. Amauri Caversan ND Discusses His Natural Solutions For Helping Those With Parasite Infections

Dr. Amauri Caversan, ND is a naturopathic medicine practitioner in Toronto. He has published a new article on his website that discusses methods for diagnostic testing and the integrative care solutions that are used for helping those with parasite infections.

If a patient complains of food poisoning, flu, or lingering fatigue like symptoms, and their health keeps deteriorating, they might be suffering from a parasitic infection. Endoparasitic infections such as protozoa or helminth infections can be diagnosed by several types of diagnostic tests. A naturopath is most likely to recommend comprehensive diagnostic testing followed by a naturopathic integrative and functional medicine approach to help diagnose and alleviate the patient’s symptoms.

Toronto naturopathic medicine practitioner Dr. Amauri Caversan, ND uses a variety of tests such as the GI 360, GI Effects, and stool ova/parasite tests to arrive at a diagnosis. The GI360 Profile is a wide-ranging clinical stool profile that uses polymerase chain reaction (PCR) testing, MALDI-TOF culture, and ID, and microscopy to identify pathogens, viruses, parasites, and bacteria that may be causing gastrointestinal indicators and disease. The GI Effects Comprehensive Stool Profile uses progressive technologies and biomarkers (PCR Culture, MALDI-TOF MS + ID, and microscopic ova and parasite (O&P) detection) to provide health practitioners with awareness into a patient’s digestive function, parasites, intestinal inflammation, and the intestinal microbiome. The Ova and parasite tests involve examining stool samples to microscopically check for single-celled parasites, along with helminths (worms), such as hookworms, tapeworms, and flukes.

The natural solutions they might utilize at, the Dr. Amauri Wellness Centre, for helping with parasite infections may include the consumption of oregano oil. Oregano is a herb closely related to mint and thyme that is used as a spice and a preservative. It may also be used as a nutraceutical for some symptoms. According to a small study of 14 people with intestinal parasites demonstrated that taking oregano oil for six weeks reduced or eliminated Blastocystis Hominis infections in all 11 volunteers who tested positive and the parasites’ symptoms were reduced in seven of those 11 people.

Another natural remedy that the article mentions is berberine. It is found in herbs including the European barberry and goldenseal. It has been shown in preliminary studies to ward off intestinal parasites. The website references a report in the Iranian Journal of Parasitology that showed that extracted berberine displayed activity that may contribute to protecting against tapeworm infections.

The third compound discussed is wormwood. Wormwood has been shown to act as a replacement for synthetics when dealing with parasite-related diseases. The journal, Antibiotics, states that the bioactive ingredients obtained from wormwood have been shown to display actions against helminths.

When asked about the clinic’s approach to helping those who might be suffering from parasitic infections, Dr. Amauri Caversan, ND says, "If you think your health concern has been triggered by parasites, and you are seeking a natural solution to diagnose and treat parasite infections. We’re here to help you reach your health goals and attain a positive lifestyle.

Our integrative care solutions may help those whose lives have been upended by the pain and discomfort caused by parasites. Contact our clinic today to find out what we can do for you."

Dr. Amauri Caversan, ND applies a combination of Acupuncture, Integrative Functional Medicine, Naturopathic Medicine, Detoxification, and Bio-Identical Hormone Treatments to help manage his patients’ health. The naturopathic integrative and functional medicine approach programs offered at the Dr. Amauri Wellness Centre may also help those dealing with other health concerns such as digestive issues, chronic fatigue, hair loss, and hair thinning, pain management/chronic pain, autoimmune conditions, chronic disease prevention, and other underlying health conditions..

Special Considerations

Pregnancy and breast-feeding: herbs are likely unsafe when taken by mouth during pregnancy/ breast-feeding. Certain plants may cause allergic reactions. Be sure to check with one's healthcare provider before taking any herbal treatment.

Readers looking for a Naturopath in Toronto can reach Dr. Amauri Caversan, ND’s clinic at the phone number (416) 922-4114 or via email using their website contact page.

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from Press Releases https://www.pressadvantage.com/story/44332-naturopath-doctor-in-toronto-dr-amauri-caversan-nd-discusses-his-natural-solutions-for-helping-those Dr. Amauri Wellness Centre Dr. Amauri Caversan ND 1200 Bay Street #1102 Toronto, ON M5R 2A5 (416) 922-4114 https://dramaurinaturopath.com https://dramauricaversan.business.site/ https://www.google.com/maps?cid=3038336745616118047

[msbarrows]

Cataracts - What Surgery Is Like

As previously mentioned, I’d developed cataracts and am now going through surgery for them, and have elected to document a bit about what it’s all like from my viewpoint. Mostly because I think it’d make a nice reference for anyone wanting to write with some degree of accuracy about what it’s like from the inside.

This post contains a description of the surgical process involved and what that actually feels like, I’m trying not to be overly graphic but I’m also not elliding over any of the grosser bits (thankfully and surprisingly very little).

First off, a descriptiong of the preliminaries. This started for me with my vision going blurry over the last couple of years, and finally getting around to visiting my old optomitrist when I happened to be in Toronto over last Christmas (as my one up north just retired a couple years ago, and I hadn’t replaced her yet). Of the several potential causes for the vision loss I was experiecing, what I had turned out to be cataracts, of the variety that occurs at the back of the lens and therefor doesn’t cause easily-visible clouding. Which I actually said “Oh, thank god!” to when the optomitrist told me, since they are the absolute easiest thing to fix, while some of the other options (detached retina, or diabetes-related macular degradation, to name a couple) are much less so. Then he gave me a reference to an opthamologist. Thanks to COVID-19, it was this fall before I was finally able to actually get to the clinic and see her.

From my point of view, the process then went pretty quickly. Note that I was at an eye institute that specializes in cataract treatment; everything is contained in one building (a nicely renovated Victorian brick house in the Annex area of Toronto). So all tests and surgery are done on premises.

First appointment there, they did the same sort of vision tests my optomitrist generally does, plus some extra inner-eye photography to get a good look at what was going on. This was done by two different people, one doing the eye-chart related tests and a different one doing the photography. Then I met briefly with my doctor, who looked over my questionnaire (which included questions like whether near, mid, or distance vision was most important to me, and was there a focal distance I particularly needed to be glasses free for, etc.), and that I didn’t need nor have interest in a lens replacement that wasn’t covered under our provincial health care.

A week later I returned for them to perform eye measurement tests, which are used as a basis for manufacturing the replacement lens. They measure the size and shape of the eye, and mostly just involved staring into various machines while photos are taken. The weirdest one, which they did last, involved dripping numbing drops into my eyes, and then lightly pressing a small sensor to multiple places both directly on the eyeballs and then on the closed lids. Something to do with viscosity I’d assume.

And now for a description of the general surgical process, which you can also find summarized (or in more detail) at a number of medical web sites. In my case, it was a pretty basic surgery being performed; the opthamologist needed to make a small slit in the outer layer of my eye, used a tiny probe to break down the lens using ultrasound waves, vacuum out the broken down lens, then use a largish needle to insert a folded plastic lens into the eye, where it would unfold within the capsular space and could be tweaked as needed into the correct position. The cut in the eye is tiny enough that it usually doesn’t even need stitching, apparently.

I was asked to arrive at a specific time, and had to start applying dilating drops to my eyes an hour, half-hour, and five minutes before leaving for the clinic. No nail polish or facial makeup. Preferable wearing comfortable pants and a loosely short-sleeved button front shirt without any undershirt or long underwear beneath it (which turns out to be a “just in case things go crazily sideways” measure; they didn’t actually need to access anything on my torso).

The first step after I arrived at the clinic was being dressed in PPE - one of their own disposable masks to be sure I was wearing a good enough one (that wasn’t coated in whatever mine had picked up outside), a hair cap, a long-sleeved thigh-length blue plasticized robe (it had thumb holes to prevent the sleeves from slipping), and booties over my shoes.

Then I was taken to their surgical floor, where a nurse began a series of eye drops. These included more dilation, an antispectic, and an antibiotic, that I can remember - multiple drops of all. She also gave me a teeny tiny pill to place under my tongue and let dissolved, which contained a small dose of a relaxant/anti-anxiety med (Sorry, she told me the name of it at the time but it’s dropped out of my memory). I didn’t notice any particular change in my mood, but then I’d been counting slow deep breaths since arriving (4 seconds in, 4 seconds out...) to help keep myself relaxed and give myself something to focus on that wasn’t omfg I’m going to be awake during this! Because yeah, not having a clue what it was going to be like was stressful. Nurse also took my blood pressure to be sure I was fine in that regards, and put a sticker on the gown to remind the doctor that it was my right eye being done that day.

After a brief wait, I was moved into one of the surgical theatres, where there was a dentist chair they sat me in, then connected a blood pressure cuff, fingertip monitor (hence the no nail polish rule) and sensors on the backs of both hands and one ankle (I’m assuming those were measuring a mix of blood oxygenation and heartbeat, with the ankle one making sure my feet were still getting blood when I was spending the surgery in what ended up as a tipped-over-backwards with head lowest position). They then rinsed my eye and the orbital area with bactine (very yellow vision while that happens), then patted the area around the eye dry.

The doctor sat at my head, and applied a medical drape with a pre-cut adhesive-edged opening over my eye, then peeled off a translucent applique that was over the hole. Then they applied medical clamps that held my eyelids in the open position (which thanks to the numbing drops, I didn’t feel at all). A brightly lighted microscope was then positioned over the eye, and I was told to stay as still as possible and stare at the red dot in the lighted area. The doctor then did the surgery as described above. From my point of view, there was very little to feel; occasional dull pressure, some random coldness that I believe was the eye being irrigated. I could hear the occasional very quiet noise the probe made as the lens was sucked away, but mostly it was just staring at the red light as well as I could while my vision distorted oddly and I continue counting breaths. Within what felt like no more than 5-10 minutes (if that), it was all over with.

They had me continue to lie there for a couple minutes while they peeled off the drape, wiped the eye area clean, and removed all the sensors, then a brief rest before having me sit up.

I blinked once or twice, and... DAMN! Sudden near-perfect vision in an eye that hasn’t seen clearly without help since I was in single digit ages. And the saturation. The detail.

Now, my left eye of course still has a cataract (it gets treated next week). I’d been telling people for a while that basically all my right eye was seeing was blur, so my left eye was doing most of the seeing, and I thought my left eye wasn’t anywhere near as bad as my right. With my right eye now seeing perfectly, I could now alternate opening eyes from side to side, and see just how badly (and irregularly) blurred and yellowed the left lens actually is. To which I can only saw, WTF, how was I even seeing anything at all!?

Then they had me sit for a while in the waiting area, where the doctor came and double-checked I was fine, and gave me a kit in a plastic bag of a card that identifies that I have an interocular lens (and info about it), a prescription for two different eye drops (antibiotic and anti-inflamatory) which was enough for both this eye and the eye getting operated on next week, and a shield to wear at night for the first five nights, to be sure I don’t accidentally rub it or put pressure on it.

Then I put on sunglasses (because hugely dilated eye) and walked out.

Side note - they won’t do your operation unless you have a ride home arranged; because that tiny pill means you’re in a slightly altered state, among other reasons. Good thing it was my brother and not, say, a taxi, since among other things it took us three drugstores to find one that actually had both kinds of eyedrops in stock, yay super fun.

Also, remember me talking about the starburst rays I was seeing around lights due to cataracts? While my eye was still dilated (which lasted until after midnight) I was seeing what I can only describe as ‘Ferris wheels’ - a burst of  rays expanding out like the spokes of a wheel, and ending in an uneven ring of dots of bright light, each wheel matching the colour of the light causing it. Looked wild at night. Thankfully that effect has now gone away.

Had a follow-up appointment this morning where they did an eye chart and the rebounce test where they puff air at your cornea, and the opthamologist says the vision in that eye tested as 20/20 (WOOO! Finally something good with that number). I can see sharply and clearly for blocks from the mid-range on out. Sadly when I try to use my computer, tablet, etc (near-range and close vision) the eye can’t focus down far enough; some of that may improve over the next month or two as the eye continues healing, and adapting to the lens. In the meantime my sister suggested I try a pair of her reading glasses and, yay, that worked. I am now planning that after my follow-up appointment for next week’s surgery on the left eye, I’ll run around and pick up 2-3 pairs of reading glasses of various strengths (which I will get will depend on what seems to work best with arm’s length and close-in viewing), to carry me through until I go back to an optomitrist in a month or three, and get my vision evaluated to see if I need actual prescription reading and/or far distance glasses.

In the meantime, apart from computer/tablet use, I am glasses free. I can’t even remember ever having such sharp, clear, and saturated vision (since I’ve been in glasses for such a long time). You know the “oh, trees are made of leaves!” effect? I am getting that with every single thing I look at. Oh, that’s how much grey is in my hair? Weird, I never noticed this wall was textured before. Oh geez, that text over there is so small and yet I AM READING IT. I mean, even with glasses I probably was never able to read that from this distance! Etc ad infinitum.

It’s just so, so nice.

And that’s with just one eye finished. I am now really looking forward to next week’s surgery. Stress? What stress!?

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[myhockeyworld87]

Choices - Tyler Seguin/Jamie Benn - Part 10

Word Count: 1539

POV: Reader

Warnings: Maybe language

Notes: So you guys threw me for a loop on this one. I totally thought you’d pick Jamie, but I fear all the Jamie fans left when Tyler got chosen. So here’s the reason behind the Kathleen coverup. Enjoy! Peace, Love and Hugs all!

The fact that Tyler chose this moment to tell you why he was covering up for the crazy Kathleen, was not lost on you. You could hear Jamie calling for you in the background, but at the same time, you needed to know what was going on with Tyler. So as a nurse passed by, you asked her to tell Jamie you’d be in, in just a minute.

“Give me the highlights, as we really don’t have time for a huge discussion about this; but I need to know why you’re covering up for that whore.” He flinched at your choice of language, like you’d struck him or something; which you found odd.

“It’s complicated.” You tapped your foot in your impatience. “It was about eight months ago. I was out with some of the guys here from Dallas, not anyone from the team mind you.” Why would he specifically point that out, you wondered. “We were loaded; shitfaced really. I had no idea what the hell I was doing but we didn’t have practice or a game the next day and it just felt good to let go.” You nodded for him to continue. “Anyways, we had pretty much called it a night and were just waiting for the cars to be brought around. That’s when we saw Kathleen, with a couple of other women. They were just all standing there kind of nonchalantly.” Ok so far you could see where this was going, a drunk hook-up basically, but that didn’t call for covering up a major accident involving your best friend.

“I think it was Mike who was like let’s go up and talk to them. I’m not sure. Anyhow we did and well Kathleen was all up on me, you know.” You rolled your eyes, memories of her naked in Tyler’s living room came flooding back. “At any rate, we ended up bringing them all back to my place, and things…well you know escalated. But before we did anything, she made some damn joke; or at least I thought it was a joke, about wanting ‘paid for her services.’ So, I whipped out a twenty-dollar bill and handed it to her. I had no idea that one of her friends was videotaping us or that she set her phone up in my bedroom to tape us having sex.”

You shook your head in disbelief before you whispered yelled. “Is Kathleen a prostitute?”

“Not exactly. Turns out she’s just some crazy-ass fan girl, that had an elaborate scheme to trap me into being her boyfriend.” Closing your eyes, you tried to make sense of the information Tyler was telling you. “She sent me a blackmail tape, saying that she would tell everyone I paid for sex if I didn’t agree to be her boyfriend.”

“But wouldn’t she be exposing herself as a prostitute if she did that?”

“She obscured her face in the video, so no one would recognize her, only me. I took it to my legal team, to see what they could do, but that fact that I did pay her and we did have sex didn’t look good. I was already in jeopardy with Stars management, if this got out it could be my career.” God, it seemed as if drama followed him everywhere. You were beginning to think you’d made the wrong decision of choosing him again. “My legal team called her in and worked out a deal. That I would be her ‘boyfriend’ for a period of time and then she would hand over the tapes.”

“Yeah, but what would stop her from not handing over the tapes when the time ended.”

“Well, they thought of that as well. They made her sign a nondisclosure agreement, stating that she’d never speak of the incident; it also stated that if she didn’t turn over the tapes, she would be sued for over three million dollars.”

“So you’re telling me that you’re beholden to this…. bitch for what, a year, two?”

“Actually, it was only six months, she turned the tapes over a month ago.”

You blinked rapidly if she willingly turned them back a month ago; why was it only a few days past that he was bringing her on a double date? “I’m sorry, I must have not heard you right. Did you say she already turned them over?”

Tyler looked down at the ground ashamed to answer your question. “Yeah, she did.”

“Then why the hell were you still with her up until today?”

He ran his fingers through his hair. “So, my manager thought it would be good for my image to have a girlfriend. Sort of look like I’d tamed my wild way, I suppose.”

“And he thought some two-bit whore, who blackmailed you would make a good girlfriend?” You threw the words at him as if they were a bad taste in your mouth. “My god, you’re both as crazy as she is; but it still doesn’t explain why you kept her around.”

“I don’t have a good fucking answer for that.”

Well, that’s obvious. Have you changed any at all?” He moved, trying to grab your arms and pull you to him, though you wrestled out of the embrace.

“Of course I have. Jesus, can’t you see that?”

You were stopped from answering him as Jamie’s doctor came out of the room. “Ms. (Y/LN) could I talk to you a moment about Mr. Benn’s condition?”

“Of course.” He guided you away from Jamie’s room, over to the nurses' station in the middle. Tyler followed closely behind.

“As you know Mr. Benn has suffered several injuries as a result of the car accident.” You nodded, a look of concern on your face. “We’ve been able to determine that he fractured his right knee, which will require surgery.” This would devastate Jamie, for you knew he’d be out long-term from playing hockey. “But that’s not the injury that’s concerning us at the moment.” Your heart sank, that there was further bad news for him; however, you kept praying that it wasn’t that bad. “Mr. Benn was knocked unconscious for a few minutes, which worried us; however we don’t see any swelling on the brain, which is good news.” You released a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding in. “Though he seems to be suffering from traumatic brain amnesia. He seems to believe that it’s sometime in June and not October.”

“What does this mean?”

“Well currently, we’re still evaluating him. I’d like to get an MRI of his brain, just to see if we can assess anything from it.” You nodded your agreement.

“Of course, that makes perfect sense.”

“I’m glad you agree, though there is something I need to ask of you both.”

You looked at Tyler, before answering; not even realizing how close he’d been listening to the doctor as well. “I’ll do whatever you need.”

“Good, because I need you to let Mr. Benn recover his memory on his own.” There must have been confusion on your face, for the doctor continued. “Basically, let him think that it’s June. I’ve already told him that it is October and it seemed to confuse him extremely, almost if he is trying to block out something traumatic that happened between this time, something other than the accident; I mean.”

You knew the event the doctor spoke about, for it occurred this morning when you chose Tyler over Jamie. Needing a bit more clarification you asked. “So you want me to act like it was a couple of months ago; which would mean I hadn’t met Tyler yet.”

“If that’s the case, then yes, that’s exactly what I’d like you to do.”

“And how long do you think this amnesia will last?” It was Tyler who chimed in asking the question this time.

“Well, we really won’t know until we do some further testing. His memory could come back in a couple of hours or a couple of days.” That seemed reasonable. “But then I’ve also seen cases last several months.”

Tyler spoke up again, asking. “And what exactly would happen if we told him the truth?”

“I’ve seen patients experience even more memory loss as a result and I’ve seen patients be completely fine. It’s just safer to let them recover their memories on their own though.”

“We understand and we’ll do whatever is best for Jamie.”

“Thank you Miss (Y/LN), I’m going to take Mr. Been down to get that MRI, I believe he’d like to see you before he goes down if you think you’re ready.”

“Yes, I’m fine.” Tyler grabbed your arm before you could follow the doctor back to Jamie’s room.

“Wait, are you sure you want to do this?” He asked.

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

Here we go, it’s your turn again to make some choices. Gotta say you guys threw me the last time…haha

A)    Hell no, you’re not ready for this, you don’t want to lie to Jamie about not being with him anymore. B)     Of course, you’re ready. You’ll do whatever you have to so that Jamie can get better. A little lie can’t hurt. C)      You're not ready for any of this and want to move back to Toronto where life was simpler.

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Full-body laser hair removal employs precision laser technology to decrease unwanted hair from all body areas, including the face, neck, fingers, and toes. It is a thorough, non-invasive procedure. It is made to target hair follicles at different phases of growth and lasts, on average, six to eight sessions. By effectively stopping further development, it results in permanent hair reduction.

The treatment method is to release focused bursts of light energy, which are then absorbed by the melanin in the hair follicle. This energy is transformed into heat that, although hardly affecting the nearby skin, harms the follicle and prevents further hair development. Thanks to technological advancements, nearly all skin types and hair hues can now be effectively treated, Which takes into consideration variations in hair thickness, the region to be treated, and the sensitivity of the skin.

Because not all hair follicles are active at once and are only influenced while in the active growth phase, many treatments are typically required. Multiple treatments are therefore necessary to ensure that all hair follicles are adequately treated, which results in a marked decrease in hair growth across the entire body. 

Why Choose Full Body Laser Hair Removal?

Complete body laser hair removal is appealing for several reasons:

Reliability: Compared to more conventional methods like waxing, shaving, or threading, laser hair removal offers a longer-lasting solution. These treatments only provide transient comfort and require frequent, weekly upkeep. Contrarily, laser hair removal gives long-lasting effects by focusing on the hair follicles' roots and preventing further development.

Efficiency: The laser enables a speedier treatment process because it can process many hairs simultaneously. Depending on the treatment region, individual sessions may last twenty minutes to an hour, but the overall time and effort commitment is substantially less over time.

Slight Discomfort: Most individuals compare their sensation during laser hair removal to the snap of a rubber band with a faint sting. However, many people consider it a worthwhile trade-off, given the speed of the therapy and the long-lasting effects it offers.

Accuracy: Dark, coarse hair can be precisely targeted with laser hair removal while the surrounding skin is not harmed. This precision makes sure that only undesirable hair is treated and the surrounding skin is left unaffected.

Full Body Laser Hair Removal: What to Expect

It takes some planning to start a full-body laser hair removal journey. Before your scheduled appointment, you must shave the treatment areas, and you should stay out of the sun for at least two weeks. 

Depending on the extent of the areas being treated, the therapy session can run anywhere from 30 minutes to an hour. Your doctor will apply intense light pulses to your skin using a specialised laser instrument. Without endangering the nearby tissue, this energy concentrates on the melanin in the hair follicles. Although some clients say it feels like a rubber band cracking on their skin, the discomfort is typically relatively slight. 

You might have some redness, swelling, and moderate irritation right after the session, comparable to a minor sunburn. These side effects are transient and should go away in a few days. While some hair loss may be noticeable in the weeks after your sessions, this is a sign that the treatment is functioning well.

To guarantee that all hair follicles in different growth phases are addressed, this treatment is administered at varied intervals, ranging from four to eight weeks apart. Though individual outcomes can vary, in many situations, considerable hair removal is often obtained throughout six to eight sessions. 

Conclusion

As more people look for long-term solutions to body hair, complete body laser hair removal in Toronto is increasingly gaining appeal. It is a risk-free, practical approach that provides a painless beauty experience. With this cutting-edge technology, you may wave goodbye to time-consuming, conventional hair removal techniques and welcome smooth, hair-free skin. Discover the transforming potential of total body laser hair removal and reevaluate your criteria for beauty.

[aion-rsa]

The CW’s Coroner is the Quiet Contemplation of Grief We Need Right Now

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

In one of the pandemic’s pop culture gifts, The CW is now airing CBC’s 2019 drama Coroner, which has already aired 2 seasons in Canada and has been renewed for a third. Serinda Swan plays Jenny Cooper, an ER doctor who, when we first meet her in the premiere, has lost her husband suddenly to a brain aneurysm that occurred at their teenage son’s swim meet. Jenny quits her job and becomes a coroner, moving her son Ross (Ehren Kassam) out of the city to a ramshackle home of one of the first deceased people she examines, a home that comes with its own handyman, Liam Bouchard (Éric Bruneau, in a rare English-speaking role).

Is the title a bit on the nose? Yes. Is the title card perhaps the most CW thing I’ve ever seen? Sure. Do I wish Ross hadn’t said “obvs” in the pilot when talking about how he wished his father hadn’t died? I think you know the answer to that is also a resounding “obvs.” Is the use of a black dog as a symbol of grief, whether it’s a reference to a hellhound, a grim, or the hound of heaven, quite obvious? Absolutely.

But there’s something distinctly Canadian in the show’s quiet, contemplative approach to grief that we need right now. There’s a stillness to it, an unwillingness to flinch from reality coupled with a touch of gallows humor that makes it feel like a show about death and grief made by people who actually know what it’s like. At a time when so many of us can’t grieve as we’d normally like to, and when there’s a dearth of national mourning that’s so badly needed, pop culture can be something of a release valve, holding some of the space we don’t have elsewhere in our lives. 

Too often, televised grief is all gnashing of teeth and histrionic fits, public spectacles at climactically inopportune moments and graceful breakdowns, crying that’s just the right amount of funny or authentic without ever tipping into true ugly-cry territory. But on Coroner, grief isn’t convenient or pretty or even something the show can wrap its arms around in a few episodes or, presumably, a season. It’s something Jenny and Ross are swimming in, and likely will be for the rest of their lives, like so many of the people Jenny meets through her job, the loved ones of the deceased people she examines.

Unlike many other takes on women’s grief and trauma, the show doesn’t rely on the usual obvious visual cues. Jenny doesn’t drink giant goblets of red wine in the tub or cry in the shower. While she does do “the dramatic chop” and cuts off all her hair after her husband dies, the show lampshades it with her son and his boyfriend joking about it and how she’s coping.

At a time of global mourning that is anything but ordinary, there’s something comforting about a show that acknowledges how deeply weird and inconvenient grief can be. Death has always had a weird side, something we strive hard not to acknowledge here in the U.S., and the pandemic has only exacerbated it. Transporting bodies is suddenly more complicated as states censure one another for their COVID-19 levels, and there’s a cap on how many people can attend funerals, causing some to opt for gatherings over zoom or hold off until some unknown future time when we can all be together.

The only thing stranger than grief is grief delayed, and in their own way, both Jenny and her son attempt some version of it. They flee the city. They often tiptoe around talking about him and the impact his death has had on their lives, including the immense financial toll his hidden gambling addiction took posthumously. Jenny goes to therapy and is on some form of medication, but it’s clear she’s uncomfortable opening up and mostly just trying to keep her head above water.

Jenny retreats from her entire life and especially her profession, unable to face what it means that she, a doctor, couldn’t save her own husband, laying an immense burden at her own feet. Ross retreats from the swim team – his father died at a meet, but more than that, his father was the overly-involved parent who harangued his son toward greatness. Without his father, the sport feels empty and scary.

Coroner leans into the weird in its most extreme with Jenny changing her job and moving them out of Toronto into rural Canada, but the smaller moments of strangeness are perhaps more recognizable to the average viewer. Jenny accepts an offer from Liam, the kind, hot handyman (a veteran of the war in Afghanistan who clearly has his own trauma to process) to grab drinks, and then vacillates between treating it like a date and therapy. When Jenny meets other women who have lost their spouses, she often hesitates to tell them how acutely she knows their pain, still unsure of her new identity as a widow – even more so when people see her wedding ring.

To be clear, Jenny isn’t the weird one here – it’s the situations that arise in a society that is simply ill-equipped to handle an adult woman straightforwardly saying, “my husband just died, but I haven’t stopped wearing my wedding ring yet.” So usually-matter-of-fact Jenny stutter-steps, contorting herself around these strange situations, never sure when to tell the truth and when to shield everyone else around her from her grief. Far too often, other people’s comfort is just one more burden laid at the feet of the grieving.

One of the moments that plays strangest is also one of the best – when a fellow widow calls Jenny lucky because her husband died of an aneurysm. She must realize how she sounds because she looks back at Jenny and says, “I’m sorry, but you are!” There’s something so deeply honest about her saying so, even if we, the audience, know that death-by-aneurysm actually made his death uniquely painful for Jenny.

It’s the kind of thing only another widow would say, and for just a few conversations in that episode, Jenny isn’t bending to polite company, trying to cry in her car so her new coworkers don’t see it. She’s just one widow giving it straight to another widow – and I doubt Jenny would’ve solved the case without that clarity of insight.

Early on, multiple characters question Jenny’s fitness for her job, assuming she can’t handle so much exposure to death and the darkest of humanity, in spite of her experience as an ER doctor. It’s an odd assumption – after all, what does an intimate knowledge of trauma and grief even look like? But they don’t know that Jenny lives and breathes death and despair, because she has what Stephen Colbert has called his “secret name.” In an interview with Oprah about the loss of his father and two older brothers, he explained:

“For years, I sort of thought that was my secret name. That that loss was my name. I like the idea that you have a secret name. You have your name but then you have a secret name, and that’s a name that no one can ever really pronounce because that’s who you are. And there’s a magic to your secret name. And that was my secret name, the loss of my father and my brothers.” 

Jenny very much has a secret name, one she protects fiercely. Whether or not you believe losing her husband changed her from the person she was meant to be, she’s certainly not the person she once was. After a loss, none of us are. But Coroner allows us to watch – both in real time and for the long haul – as grief changes Jenny and Russ, and as they remake themselves around their grief. At a time like this, there’s something uncommonly comforting and even hopeful in that honesty.

The post The CW’s Coroner is the Quiet Contemplation of Grief We Need Right Now appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/33978Rt

[fanforthefics]

Landesbarrie #20 (You’re in a coma and I confess all my feelings only for you to wake up)?

"You’re not here,” Gabe says. The hallucination that isn’t Tyson but does appear to be sitting in Tyson’s favorite chair snorts. 

“Brilliant deduction, Sherlock. Those brains why they made you captain?” It sounds like Tyson. It’s got Tyson’s wry smile and the glint in his eyes when he’s teasing, the way he’s got of looking at Gabe like he’s inviting him in on the joke even when it’s Gabe he’s chirping. And yet--

“You’re in Toronto,” Gabe tells him. “You have a game tonight.” 

“That’s what you’re hung up on, not the fact that I just appeared here?” Tyson asks. “Or--” he waves a hand, and it goes right through the arm of the chair. “Cause that’s what’s really getting me, I’ve got to say, but you’ve always had weird priorities. Like still preferring savory over sweet, that’s--” 

“It’s not a health thing it’s a taste thing,” Gabe snarks back, the latest volley in the long-running argument, then stops. He’s arguing with a hallucination. Great way to start a season. “I’m going insane.” 

“Brain that size in a head that small, it was inevitable,” Tyson retorts, but it’s got an edge to it--an edge that Gabe knows, knew, the edge that means Tyson’s using his humor to cover up the fact that he’s freaking out. Because Gabe can’t even hallucinate a Tyson happy in Toronto--his brain’s not that masochistic that he’ll think that. He’s apparently a bad enough person that he’d prefer Tyson miserable and not with him than happy and traded. “Nice to know that I’m the symbol of you going insane. That makes sense, really. Couldn’t drive you there when I was here so maybe when I leave, eh?” 

“You didn’t drive me insane,” Gabe says. That’s not the point. “You leaving--” His phone buzzes. He’s prepared to ignore it, but then it buzzes again; it’s a call, not a text. Gabe pulls out his phone. Nate Dogg, it tells him. 

“You should probably get that,” Tyson says, and his smile is wry and tight, like after bad losses. Gabe’s not worrying about a hallucination, because that’s insane. Instead, he answers the phone. 

“I’m going to Toronto,” Nate says, without any prelude. He sounds--his voice is rough, like he’s been crying. 

Gabe blinks. “What? Our first game’s in four days, I know you miss Tys but you can’t just--” 

“You didn’t hear?” Nate cuts him off. 

“Hear what?” 

Nate swallows. “Tys, there was--it was a car accident, it was really--” 

Gabe’s hand clenches over nothing at all. “It was what, Nate? Is he okay? Is he--” Nothing can have happened to Tyson. Not Tyson, who’s the most vibrant, alive person Gabe knows. 

There’s a long pause before Nate answers, which is an answer in itself. “He’s in a coma,” Nate says at last. “The doctors--they think he’s going to wake up, but they’re not sure.” 

Instinctively, Gabe looks over to where the Tyson-hallucination was sitting. He’s not there. 

----

Nate goes to Toronto. Management throws a fit, but Nate goes anyway, and they all know that no one’s scratching Nate for the opener. 

Gabe wishes he could do that too, but he’s captain, and he’s not...Nate and Tyson are Nate and Tyson, and Gabe isn’t that. Gabe isn’t--what Tyson was to him was something different, and something that lived close to his heart but not out loud, so he didn’t have a good excuse to just leave. 

So he stays and goes to practice, and gets terse texted updates from Nate and repeats them to the rest of the team. 

“Wow, that’s a shitty tape job, and I played with Jamie Benn.” Gabe jumps and drops his stick. It falls through Tyson’s outstretched hand. Tyson looks down at the hand. “Huh. That’s still weird.” 

“What the hell are you doing here?” Gabe hisses, looks around. A equipment guy is giving him a weird look, but no one else is here. 

“He can’t see me,” Tyson says. “I’ve tried but it’s just you. Maybe you’re magic,” he hums, sounding considering. “Or maybe it’s something Swedish. I should go bug Willy, see if that works.” 

Gabe quashes the immediate protest that if the Tyson hallucination should be bothering anyone, it should be bothering him, and definitely not some Leaf with good hair. Gabe ignores the fact that usually, he rather likes William Nylander. Also, there are more important things, like, “Yeah, they can’t see you, because you’re a hallucination.” 

“So we’re sticking with that story, eh?” Tyson nods. “It sort of begs the question of why you’d be hallucinating me, though.” He pauses, then looks at Gabe’s face, and grins. “You miss me!” he crows, jabbing a finger at Gabe, like that’s a surprise and a success. “You miss me so much you think hallucinating me makes sense! Aw, Landy. You know I miss you too.” 

“It doesn’t make sense, it makes more sense than anything else,” Gabe snaps. He doesn’t know why his subconscious is driving home how much he misses Tyson. How much he didn’t say. “Given that nothing else makes any sense, that’s not hard.” 

“Nah, you miss me.” Tyson grins, pats his chest. “Don’t worry, I miss you too. None of the Leafs have a mane quite like yours.” 

“Not even Willy?” Gabe asks, before he can help himself. Tyson snorts. 

“Yes, your hair is the best even among Swedes, don’t worry, Mr. Gabe the Babe. Your crown’s untouched.” He tsks. “I should tell you that all of the Leafs have better hair than you, that’d keep you in the penalty box our first game.” His mouth twists. “If I’m there for the game.” 

“You will be,” Gabe says, because he has to. Because that much he has to believe. “You’ll be fine.” 

“Yeah.” Tyson’s mouth does the thing again, where he can’t quite keep back his cynicism. 

“You will be,” Gabe repeats, every bit of certainty he’s ever mustered in that statement, and Tyson smiles again, but it’s--it’s the soft, almost incredulous smile that only comes out occasionally, that Gabe maybe holds tighter than he should, because it’s the one that’s gotten through all of Tyson’s walls of BS. 

“God, Gabe, you’re so--I’ve missed you too,” Tyson says, and this time he sounds like he means it. “You and your...” he trails off. 

“My what?” Gabe prompts. Maybe this is some weird exercise in narcissism, but he wants to hear what Tyson likes about him, in Tyson’s voice, from Tyson’s pretend mouth. He doesn’t think he’ll ever stop wanting to hear Tyson complimenting him. 

“Your big fucking head, what do you think?” Tyson retorts, but he’s flushed red.

Something bangs, a hallway away--Gabe glances over. When he looks back, Tyson’s gone. 

----

The Tyson-hallucination keeps on coming back. Gabe knows he should be worried, should be going to doctors and getting MRIs and that he’s probably dying of a brain tumor or something, but--he doesn’t. 

He tells himself it’s because it’s something he can deal with himself, but he’s pretty sure it’s just that he likes having Tyson around, in some form. To have Tyson snarking at his elbow and giving him shit and hanging out in his kitchen as he cooks. It feels like--it doesn’t feel normal, because Tyson was never around this much even before, but it feels like what Gabe dreamed about, sometimes, when he let his guard down. Tyson inextricably intertwined in his life. Gabe still goes to sleep alone, and he can’t reach out and touch, but he doesn’t want it to stop, either. 

Then Nate comes back. He’s pale and quiet and he practices with the sort of single minded intensity that he only has when he’s ignoring everything else, and he barely says a word to anyone, not even when EJ’s doing his best to draw him out. It’s when, Gabe can’t help but think, Nate needs Tyson--Tyson always knew how to lessen the load on Nate’s shoulders, how to make him remember he was just a person too. 

The whole locker room needs that--the rookies chatter because they’re rookies, but Nate’s there like a cloud and Gabe tries but he doesn’t know how much better he is, and everyone can feel what’s hovering over the whole locker room. It’s not the best way to start a season, for sure. Tyson would fix it, Gabe can’t help but feel. He almost asks his hallucination what to do, but he knows the answer, which is there’s nothing he can do. The locker room will learn how to be without Tyson and his morale. The question is if Gabe can. 

The day after Nate gets back, Gabe follows him home, waits as he feeds the dogs, nukes some leftovers. Then-- 

“Are you okay?” Gabe asks, and Nate chokes out a dry laugh. 

“Am I okay?” he repeats, incredulous. “Yeah, it was a great trip to Toronto, why do you ask?” 

Gabe can take the hit, if it means being there for his friend. “Nate.” 

“It’s bullshit. He shouldn’t have been there at all, we need him, and now he’s in fucking Toronto and I’m here and--” Gabe puts his hand on Nate’s arm. He’s shaking. He’s so young, Gabe remembers sometimes. Younger than he should be, for this. Not that Gabe thinks he’s handling it much better. Nate swallows. “His dad’s gotten him the best care, of course, and if it doesn’t get better soon they’re moving him to Vancouver anyway. His parents are with him all the time. And it should be--the doctors all said he should wake up, soon.” 

Gabe hums. That’s good, he reminds himself. That the prognosis is good. Even if it means Tyson’s not awake now, not somewhere in the world being his loud, energetic self, making another locker room laugh. 

“He just looked so--there were all the tubes, you know?” Nate goes on, gulping air. “Hooked up everywhere, and all I could think was that Tyson would make so many jokes about tentacles, and I just--” Gabe smiles despite himself, because he would. “I can’t stop thinking, what if--” Nate stares down at his hands. “What if he doesn’t wake up?” 

“Tell him I love him,” Tyson says, on Nate’s other side. He’s leaning over Nate, and Gabe can’t see his face but he knows that broken voice. “Tell him he’ll always be my Dogg, and that’s--no matter what.” 

“He’s going to wake up,” Gabe says, because he has to believe that. If he doesn’t--he has to. 

“But what if he doesn’t?” Nate asks. Tyson puts a hand out to his shoulder, and it falls through. Gabe can see Tyson’s fist clench. “What if--I think the last thing I said was some shit about the season, it wasn’t--” A tear drips onto Nate’s hand. 

“Gabe.” Tyson looks up, and there are tears on his cheeks. “Tell him. Please.” 

Gabe can’t. Gabe doesn’t want this to be happening. Gabe doesn’t want to pretend Tyson’s here, because he’s not and Gabe has hold it together for Nate when Gabe can’t think this, can’t think any of this. 

But he has to. And Gabe does what he has to. And Tyson’s looking at him with that tear-stained face, his hand hovering over his best friend’s back. 

"Tyson loves you,” Gabe tells Nate, because he doesn’t need any hallucination to tell him that. “That’s--you guys are forever, you know that. It doesn’t matter what happens.” 

“I know.” Nate sniffles. “I know, I just--” he swallows. “I’ll be okay. Tyson’ll be okay.” He lifts his head. Tyson’s hand drops from where he was holding it, but he’s still looking at Nate like he’d give anything to just be able to hug him. Gabe would give anything for Tyson to be here to hug Nate too, so him and his subconscious are on the same page with that. “They’re doing some procedure tomorrow anyway, it’s supposed to help? I don’t know. But it’ll--he’ll be fine,” Nate repeats, like a mantra. “He’ll be fine.” 

Gabe swallows. “He’ll be fine,” he echoes, because it has to be true. 

---

He drives home later, after trying his best to distract himself and Nate with TV and game tape. Nate was looking a little better when he left, but--Gabe can’t stop thinking about it, now. What if. Tyson has to be better, he has to, but what if--

“You’ve got to take care of him,” Tyson says, from the seat next to him. Gabe’s too used to it to even jump, he just pulls into his driveway. “If anything happens, or even if I’m just in Toronto. He’s Nate but he’ll try to do too much if you let him, you can’t let him--” 

“I know what my team needs,” Gabe snaps, as he gets out of the car, heads inside. 

“I should have left a manual, the Care and Keeping of Nate Mackinnon. With commentary by Sidney Crosby, that’d be the real selling point. Maybe I should have had one for you too. Volume 2, the Care and Keeping of Gabriel Landeskog. Chapter 1: make sure to deflate his head sometimes, otherwise it’ll get dangerously big and he might float away, Up--” 

“Stop it!” Gabe yells, and Tyson’s mouth snaps shut. Zoey, who had been greeting him by running at his legs, whines and pulls back. Gabe puts a hand on her head. “You can’t do this anymore, I can’t do this.” 

“Do what?” Tyson asks. “Listen to me talk? Because let me tell you, you had a big improvement there if you wanted that to stop--” 

“Pretend!” Gabe growls. “I can’t--you’re not here, you’re in Toronto and I can’t just go on like you’re here with me!” 

“Well I don’t know what you want me to do about it,” Tyson retorts. “I’m not the one hallucinating me. Or summoning me. Or--I don’t know why I’m here, but you get the point.” 

“You’re not here!” Gabe throws back at him again. “You aren’t, however much I want to pretend you are, you’re in a hospital and a coma and--fuck,” he says, as it hits him. He drops onto a chair. “And you might not be okay,” He says, looking up at Tyson. Tyson’s got his serious face on, looking down at him, and his cheeks still have a hint of that flush from fighting that Gabe’s always wondered if he could get with other things, and Gabe never wants to stop looking at him. “You might not wake up.” 

“Aw, come on. Where’s that captainly belief?” Tyson chirps, but Gabe can see the look in his eyes too. He knows it, and he’s terrified. Because Gabe knows, he reminds himself. Because this isn’t Tyson, it’s just a reflection of what Gabe thinks, what he wants. Which is Tyson, here. “Giving up on me, Landeskog? Not like you.”  

“Never,” Gabe says, and means it like a vow, but also, “But--at least Nate knows.” 

Tyson’s mouth twists, and he reaches out, only for his hand to move through Gabe, too. “I love you, Landy. You know that too.” 

Gabe thinks about Nate, about his worry about the last thing he said. This isn’t Tyson, but it’s--he might not ever get the chance to say it to the real thing. It has to be better than wondering. 

“Yeah,” he says, and looks up into Tyson’s warm eyes. “But I’m in love with you, and I don’t know what you’d do with that.” 

Tyson freezes. “What?” 

“I--” 

But Tyson’s not stopping. “You honestly say that now, like, deathbed confession? That’s dramatic even for you, Landy, wow. And what, I’m supposed to-- I can’t even--” he reaches out, and his hand falls through Gabe’s face too, no matter how much Gabe wills himself to believe that he can feel Tyson’s touch. “What am I supposed to do with that?” 

Gabe shrugs. “Nothing, because you’re not real,” he says, honestly, because if you can’t be honest with the hallucination of the guy you’re in love with, who can you be honest with? “I just needed to say it. I wish I’d told Tys, when I could.” 

“You are so--how are you like this?” Tyson demands, and throws up his arms. “Seriously, did you wait for the moment when it’s the most dramatic?” Despite himself, Gabe smiles, because--because Tyson, and his rants and Gabe loves him. Even when the him is Gabe’s apparently very good reconstruction. “What’s next, you fly to Toronto and kiss me awake?” 

“I think True Love’s Kiss doesn’t work if it’s one sided,” Gabe points out, and Tyson rolls his eyes. 

“I said what I said, Gabriel,” he informs him, and Gabe’s heart thumps once before he remembers that of course his subconscious would give him that. It’s not what Tyson actually feels. “But I’m also in a coma and tied down with a lot of tubes which is way less kinky than I’d imagined, and--you had years! Years and years, and you say it now?” 

“I need to stop pretending,” Gabe says. He takes one more look at Tyson, lit up and half-smiling and so so bright, and then closes his eyes. “This needs to stop.” 

He almost thinks he can feel--something, the brush of warm lips against his forehead, so light that he probably imagined it. When he opens his eyes again, Tyson’s gone. 

----

The Tyson hallucination doesn’t come back. Not that day, not the next. It must have worked, Gabe thinks, and tries to be happy about it. It’s healthier, he knows that, he just--he misses Tyson, so much. 

Then his phone rings. Nate, it tell him, and Gabe swallows as he picks up. 

“Yeah?” 

“He’s awake,” Nate says, and Gabe stumbles down to a kitchen chair. “He’s awake, he’s okay, it’s going to be okay.” 

“What?” Gabe asks. It feels like he can’t breathe. Now that it’s done, it feels real again. Tyson--fuck, Tyson. 

“Tyson woke up this morning, whatever surgery happened yesterday worked!” Nate sounds like he could sing. Gabe thinks he could too. “It’s--apparently it’s going to be a long road but he’s going to be okay.” 

He’s going to be okay. It sings in Gabe. He’s going to be okay, and--fuck, Gabe needs to--

“I’m going up there as soon as we can, but I think next week’s the first time we have the days,” Nate's saying, “Tyson won’t let me skip practice for it. But it’s--” Gabe’s phone buzzes, and he glances at it to see--

He swallows. “Nate, I’ve got to go,” Gabe cuts him off, “That’s Tys.” 

“Oh, yeah, for sure,” Nate says, and there’s something in his voice like he knows something Gabe doesn’t, which would annoy him at any other time. 

He switches calls. “Tyson,” he says, “How are you?” 

“You know, I always kind of thought doctors were sexy, but that fantasy is definitely dead,” Tyson says, and Gabe laughs, for what feels like the first time in months. 

“Um. Also. So,” Tyson goes on. Gabe can hear the hum and beep of monitors beyond him. “Apparently I’m not the symbol of you going insane?” Gabe stops laughing. Gabe hadn’t told anyone about the hallucinations, or the conversations. “And true love’s kiss wasn’t necessary to wake me up?” 

“What the--what?” 

“Yep, that was my reaction too,” Tyson replies. “Who knew coma ghosts were a thing?” 

“I--you--” 

“Yeah.” 

“So you remember--” 

“Yeah.” 

“And you heard--” 

“Yeah.” 

“Oh.” Gabe swallows. So Tyson--he knew. All of what Gabe had told him, he knew that now.

“Yeah.” Gabe can hear Tyson take a breath, knows what he sounds like when he’s squaring his shoulder for something. “We can forget about it, if you want. I think there’s some sort of ‘thought you were a hallucination while you were in a coma and maybe going to die’ amnesty that gives you take back power on confessions?” 

It’s an attractive option. But--True love’s kiss, Tyson had said, and it hadn’t been Gabe’s subconscious cutting him a break. And he doesn’t want to think about the what ifs again, not like it had been. He wants to stop pretending. 

“Or I could come up there,” Gabe offers. “And we could not forget about it.” 

He can’t see Tyson, but he knows what his voice sounds like when he’s beaming. “I’m not letting you skip practice for it,” Tyson warns, and Gabe knows what that means, hears it for what it is. “I told Nate and I’m telling you, I’m still going to be here and you sitting here distracting the nurses isn’t going to help. Or maybe I should let you come, do a little bit of sabotage--” 

He keeps going and Gabe grins at nothing at all as he does, warm and ridiculous and so very very real.