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#and i did just. stay on the medication they gave me for my ulcer last time since it helped with a whole bunch of stuff.
vanillabat99 · 1 year
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I think I might have another ulcer, since I'm experiencing the exact same thing as last time, however I refuse to spend my birthday in the hospital. I've been trying to ignore it for like a month now and I haven't been feeling worse, so hopefully waiting another week doesn't kill me!
I'm a little freaked out about it since if it is an ulcer, then I might have something a bit more serious going on. Last time we thought it was due to my painkillers, which I haven't taken since, so I have no idea what might be causing it this time. On top of all that, I'm likely going to have a lapse in insurance coverage and I have no idea how that would impact a sudden hospital trip. At the very least, my digestive system is fucked up 😔
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batz-surveys · 19 hours
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1.
[Starting this up again, not that anyone really reads 'em. Third time's a charm, hah.]
Do you go to church? I don't. Sometimes I think about joining my mom on Sundays when she goes, but only because I know that would make her happy.
Have you ever had an ulcer? No.
What was the last book you read? The last book I read was Heart Bones by Colleen Hoover.
What was the last book you read about, and was it good?
Basically a girl's mother dies and she reconnects with her dad, goes to stay with him, falls for a con-artist with a good heart, and that's about it. It was okay, not my usual type of book but I was trying to branch out from the usual horror/thrillers I read.
What site do you use to discover new music? I just use Amazon music to listen to the same artists I've always listened to.
What’s your current favorite song? "Depression Personified" by The Used.
Do you make smoothies? No, I don't really like them.
Do you use holiday-themed window clings? No.
How many pairs of jeggings do you own? None, but I have about fifteen pairs of leggings.
How often do you wash your windows? Yikes, not often enough. Yeah, let's go with that.
Do you own slipper socks? I'm pretty sure I do.
Are you a sushi lover? I am, even though I have to eat vegetarian rolls. If I ever decided to consume flesh again, the first thing I'm doing is going for sushi.
Do you have any rare medical conditions? No, not rare.
Do you have to carry an epi pen? No, but I probably should. I have a few allergies to certain foods.
What is your mother’s maiden name? It's a cool one, but I won't be stating that name here.
The first time you remember being hospitalized, what was it for? I was nine and basically a day away from dying from pneumonia.
Were you ever in the hospital as a kid? Being hospitalized for pneumonia was the only time I was in the hospital for an extended period of time as a kid. I did go to the Emergency Room a lot for breathing treatments though. I had terrible asthma growing up. I obviously still have it, because it doesn't just disappear, but it's definitely way more manageable now.
Do you know what your dreams are? Honestly, I have a lot of dreams and some are attainable if I just work for them. Others are like, winning the lottery kind of dreams, haha.
Do you know what your purpose in life is? I don't. I'm just here living day to day, enjoying small victories when I can, and keeping up with a simplistic life.
What are the best things to put in a smoothie? I don't know, fruits you like, some kind of liquid you like, and that's it, right?
When was the last time you got a new backpack? My Mother-In-Law got me a Lilo and Stitch mini backpack for my birthday this year.
What color is your bicycle? I don’t have one.
Do you have a bike with a basket on the front? ^
Do you like to add different spices to things? Yes, it's called seasoning your food.
Are you cold or hot more often? Hot when I'm outside my apartment. Cold, but comfortable when I'm inside my apartment because I keep the a/c on 74F-76F.
Do you like the song Days of Elijah? I’ve never heard of it.
What is your favorite website? I guess Google, because I use it a lot.
If you had two kids, a boy and a girl, what would you name them? I can't have kids and I don't want them, but my husband and I have definitely come up with hypothetical children names. For a boy, his name would be Maximus Wolfgang [Last Name] and for a girl it would be Marjorie or Serenity Grace [Last Name].
When was the last time you read the Bible? I might have thumbed through this small devotional bible my mom gave us before we moved, ya know, as I was packing it away.
Have you ever read the Bible all the way through? No.
Do you own a lot of scarves? I think I might own like two. I never wear them because it never gets cold enough here.
Do you ever shop at the dollar store? Hardly ever now that the closest one to us closed down.
Would you rather shop online or shop at the mall? Online. Our closest mall is so fucking sad. There's like maybe six stores still open, not including the Target that's attached.
Do you like Barnes and Noble? Sure, it's my go-to store when I'm out of ideas for Xmas presents.
Do you like antique stores? I don't go to them.
Would you collect antiques if you were rich? Maybe, just so I could have something to leave my family members that was worth something. But then, I could also just give them the money.
Do you like castles? Sure.
What’s your favorite exotic animal? Tree kangaroos! Nobody I've ever known knows about them! They're so freaking cute. Go, right now, and Google a picture of them.
Do you like Goodwill? I used to when I thrifted. I don't really do that anymore.
Do you own a tassel necklace? No.
What does your favorite necklace look like? It's a pearl necklace.
Do you have any jewelry that you wear every day? Not really, because I don't even wear my wedding and engagement rings everyday. Unless my piercing jewelry counts.
Do you like to wear skirts? Nah, I can't style them the right way. So I just wear dresses.
What does your favorite bookmark look like? I don't think I have any bookmarks.
Do you use seasonal mugs? I mean, yes, but I don't wait to use them until a certain time of year. I use all my mugs anytime.
What color is your mailbox? Grey.
What color is your microwave? Black.
How often do you cook? At least three times a week.
Do you like being an adult or being a kid better? I'd say being an adult. The only thing I don't like about it is the fact I have to work, haha. But I mostly like my job and I have adult freedom and adult money, so it's all good. When you're a kid, you're totally dependent on someone to care for you, and those same caregivers give you a bunch of rules and shit to follow.
Do you take risks and step outside of your comfort zone often? No, not at all.
Do you want to start a new hobby? Starting this up again is my new hobby. But for how long…? Haha.
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dessarious · 4 years
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Misconceptions, Miscommunication, and Misinformation Pt87
Inspired by @ozmav Maribat AU
AO3   Beginning   Previous   Next
Ladybug was still trying to process the looks they were giving her when Discorde was suddenly a lot closer to study her face. When had that happened?
“When was the last time you got more than an hour of sleep?” She could only blink at her partner for a moment. Was that a thing? She knew people claimed to sleep for six or even eight hours at a time but couldn’t remember doing so herself unless she was sick, injured, or sedated. Possibly a combination of the three. Between being Ladybug, the huge increase in her workload since revealing herself, making sure she made time for all the important people in her life, and relearning how to do everything without using her legs she really didn’t have time for something as unproductive as sleep. Besides she wasn’t tired. Or was that always tired? She couldn’t remember anymore.
“Don’t know. Pretty sure it was a Wednesday though.” Catwoman let out a bark of laughter but Discorde looked even more worried and guilty.
“We’re going home and from now on if you’re awake so am I. Maybe that will make you realize how badly you’re running yourself into the ground.” She sounded pissed and Ladybug couldn’t figure out why, or if it was aimed at her.
“But you don’t need to be awake and I thought you liked sleep? I’m sorry I woke you up tonight.” Maybe that was it. Chloe woke up and she was gone. She could have at least left a note. She’d definitely remember to do that next time.
“That’s not the point damn it.” Discorde was speaking through clenched teeth and even Catwoman looked a little more worried. She must not be making sense again. She’d have to make one of her special brews when they got back so she’d be more alert. “We’re going home and you’re going to sleep for at least twelve hours before I or Tikki let you out of the room again. And none of that battery acid you call coffee either.”
“But-”
“No. This isn’t an argument. You’re sleeping. No caffeine, no electronics, no emergencies. If there’s a problem, someone else can handle it for a day. You need to learn to delegate, to rely on other people, before you kill yourself.” She sounded so worried and it brought a wave of guilt on top of the confusion.
“I rely on you.” She thought it was a dumb thing to say as soon as it left her mouth but Discorde’s look softened.
“I know you do. And that’s why you’re going to let me take you home and take care of you. The Kwami, Viperion, and whatever Bats happen to be in the area can handle things for a day. Then you can freak out and yell at me about all the wasted time and possible catastrophic things that could have happened but didn’t.” She was trying to come up with an argument. There had to be something urgent she had to do. Probably something to do with her business, or wasn’t she supposed to go to a children’s hospital as Ladybug? What day was it anyway? She let out a yelp of surprise as her transformation dropped and Discorde had to catch her, again. When she looked up it was to see a very surprised Catwoman and a very pissed off Kwami.
“That’s it you’re benched until you learn some type of self care. This is beyond ridiculous.” Tikki was spending way too much time with Chloe. Marinette couldn’t even put up a fight when her Kwami took her earrings.
“There has got to be a way for you to warn me before you do that so I don’t end up flopping around like a fish out of water. Not to mention, last I checked, you’re supposed to do what I say, not the other way around.” There was no bite in her tone and everyone promptly ignored her.
“Tikki, do you really think it was a good idea to do that in front of her?” Discord nodded at Catwoman who still seemed frozen with shock. Tikki shrugged and Mari could feel Discorde tense the way she did when she was going to launch into a lecture.
“It’s okay. She would have figured it out in a day or two anyway. Assuming Bruce hasn’t already told her.” She cuddled into Discorde both to soothe her and because it was cold up there in nothing but shorts and a tank top. She really needed to look into warm night dresses or something. That was her last thought before she passed out.
------------------------------------------------
Discorde felt Mari go limp against her and let out a sigh of relief and annoyance before looking back at Tikki.
“Her transformation was the only thing keeping her awake wasn’t it?” Tikki looked just as annoyed.
“No, that would be her stubbornness and constant overthinking. I told her not to go out but she said she needed time to think on her own. She doesn’t want anyone to worry about her and seems to think sneaking off to freak out in private is the way to do that.” There was exasperation in the Kwami’s tone but it was mainly fondness. For all Mari’s quirks, no one who really cared for her could stay angry at her. Not even Damian.
“So where are you staying?” Catwoman just blinked at her for a moment until the question actually registered. Then she shrugged.
“I just got here a couple hours ago. Bruce won’t be here for a few days so I’ll probably just find a hotel until then.” Discorde wanted to tell the woman to get out of Paris. She didn’t like the fact that one of Gotham’s Rogues knew who Ladybug was, but Mari was right that the woman would have figured it out. And Mari would be really unhappy with her if she was that rude to Damian’s possible future step mother. So she defaulted to as much diplomacy as possible.
“Follow me.” She took off across the roofs before the woman had a chance to respond, not really caring one way or the other. She heard the woman land behind her once they got to her balcony and still wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing. “Can you get the door?”
“We’re breaking into a hotel?” Discorde rolled her eyes but it was as much at herself as the comment. Of course that’s what she’d think.
“No we’re not. Just open the door.” Catwoman gave her a skeptical look but did as asked. Discorde walked in first and lay Mari gently on the bed before dropping her transformation. They really needed to talk about this, just not until Mari was rested. “Tikki, do antihistamines still knock her out?”
“Do you really think it’s a good idea to drug your girlfriend?” Plagg’s dry tone got a glare from both her and Tikki.
“If that’s what it takes to keep her from getting an ulcer at fifteen then yes I absolutely do.” Tikki hummed in agreement and Chloe walked over to her phone to dial the front desk. She put it on speaker.
“What can I do for you Mlle. Bourgeois?”
“I’m going to need some allergy medication. First thing in the morning is fine if there’s no one available to get it now. Liquid form, not the pills.” Just in case she needed to sneak it into Mari’s food or tea. Tikki’s comment about her being stubborn being the deciding factor. If the Kwami was that worried then drastic measures might be necessary. “Also I’m checking someone into the suite under mine so could you have someone make sure it’s ready and bring the key to my room? Just put it on my card for now.”
“Of course. Will that be all Mlle. Bourgeois?”
“Yes. Thank you Philipe.” She could almost hear the man’s shock that she’d called him by name but hung up before he had a chance to recover. She’d been trying to be nicer to the staff but absolutely hated the way they reacted to it. Catwoman was giving her a look she couldn’t interpret.
“Bourgeois as in Mayor Bourgeois?” The woman sounded thoroughly amused and it immediately pushed Chloe into her holier than thou attitude.
“Yes. This is Daddy’s hotel.” That caused a frown.
“You mean you’re actually the Mayor’s daughter?” Chloe just gave a stiff nod, not sure if she was being made fun of or not. For all she’d gotten on Marinette about her sleep, Chloe wasn’t much better off and she didn’t have the patience to deal with this right now. The woman didn’t look amused anymore though, more like she was trying to piece together the information she’d been given. “I can pay for my own room you know.” Chloe just waved a dismissive hand.
“I figured. I just used my card to hold it for now. I would have just opened up a tab for you or Bruce but Daddy’s already rather annoyed with me and I don’t want to give him a reason to come down here and yell at me right now.” Her developing a spine where her mother was concerned threw off the balance of their little ecosystem. Audrey was blaming her father for Chloe’s attitude so now he was trying to ‘fix’ her. She’d bullied Marinette and countless others without him caring but the second she stood up to her mother suddenly she needed an attitude adjustment. She was so glad she could look at Mari and her parents for an example for how a family was supposed to act.
“Why would you bringing in business make him upset?” Chloe just let out a tired sigh as she debated how much to share with the woman. To say her relationship with her parents was complicated was a massive understatement. And somehow it had just gotten worse as she tried to become a better person.
“If I just started a tab he would assume that I would comp it later.” Catwoman was still looking at her as though trying to solve a puzzle and she really didn’t like it. She needed a distraction. That’s when she noticed the woman had a backpack. “The bathroom is through there. You should probably get changed before the concierge comes up with the key.” The woman opened her mouth but seemed to think better of it before turning and walking to the bathroom. Chloe just hoped that meant there wouldn’t be more questions tonight.
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whump-tr0pes · 4 years
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HB4-40/Whumtober day 25
This is a series. Start here, continued from here.
This is a sequel to Honor Bound, Honor Bound 2, Honor Bound 3, and Vera.
AO3
Masterlist
~
Content warning: migraine, emesis, death mention, mention of parent killing a child, implied noncon drugging
~
The room was moving slowly around Gavin, but he was lying still. He blinked his eyes open and winced as even the soft light from the crack in the curtains stabbed into his eyes, feeling like a knife directly into his brain. He squinted and groaned softly as his eyes slowly focused on his own hands, bound in front of him and lying on a pillow, and Isaac, lying next to him on his back, his pinky just touching Gavin’s.
Gavin stirred, and froze as the pain behind his left eye pounded harder. His stomach churned. He twisted his hands against the rope and winced as it bit into his skin.
He squinted – why was his left eye so blurry? – and looked at Isaac where he lay. Gavin didn’t want to wake him; he seemed peaceful, relaxed, his mouth open slightly, the muscles of his face soft and loose. Another wave of nausea rolled over him and he squeezed his eyes shut. He gently placed his hand on Isaac’s shoulder.
Isaac jerked awake with a gasp, his eyes darting over the room, his right hand curling into a fist. Gavin collapsed against the pillow with a moan. Isaac found Gavin and froze, then relaxed, all at once.
“Hey,” Isaac said, with a soft smile. His gaze flicked to the rope still around Gavin’s wrists. “Oh, shit,” he murmured, and hesitantly reached out. “Can I—”
“Please,” Gavin breathed. “Don’t… don’t feel good.”
Isaac’s brow furrowed as he fumbled at the knot. “Oh. What… what’s going on?”
“Head hurts,” Gavin gasped, as even the act of talking seemed to make the throbbing behind his eye even worse. “Nauseated. Don’t wanna move.”
“Oh, shit. I’m sorry. Is it…? Did something…?” Isaac’s hands stopped on the rope. “Are you… sure I didn’t hurt you last night, Gavin?”
“Yeah, sure,” Gavin breathed. “Please, just… f-fuck, hurts…”
“I’ll get Finn,” Isaac said, and Gavin sighed with relief as the knot came away. “Maybe they—”
“Just a headache,” Gavin said tightly. He carefully rubbed his wrists where the rope had cut into them, just a little, while he slept. “It’s… it’s just…” Just the movement of his hands was enough to tip the room around him. He heaved forward, leaned off the side of the bed, and vomited into the small trashcan there. Sweat broke out over his skin.
“I’m getting Finn,” Isaac said in a rush, practically leaping off the bed. He opened the door and disappeared down the hallway. Gavin groaned as he slumped with his head hanging off the side of the bed. As the blood rushed to his head, the pounding grew even worse, although Gavin didn’t know how that was possible. He dry heaved once, then retreated back until his head lay against the cool of the mattress. The cool felt good.
“…n’t know what’s wrong,” came Isaac’s voice as he approached their room. “I just woke up and he was—”
“Don’t turn on the light,” Finn said, their voice coming from the doorway.
Thank god for you, Finn. Please, please don’t turn on the light.
“Oh. I… why, is that…?”
“Just… give me a sec.”
Gavin could hear the soft sounds of padded feet on the floor, but quieter than normal, as if… as if Finn was trying to be quiet. Even so, the sound crawled under his skin and made him feel sick with it. The air moved around him as Finn knelt beside the bed.
“Careful, I…” Gavin’s mouth was numb. “I… I puked.”
“It’s fine,” Finn said, their voice barely louder than a whisper. “Ellis has had morning sickness all week. It’s just puke. You woke up like this?”
“Y-yeah,” Gavin mumbled.
“No recent head injuries?”
“Not… recently…” Gavin laughed, once, then moaned as the pain in his head ratcheted up another notch. “Oh, god.”
Finn huffed out a laugh of their own. “Okay, fair enough. Ever had this happen before?”
“No,” Gavin groaned. “Oh, fuck, what’s…?” He pressed his hands against his head, desperate to push away the pain. “What is this?”
“It’s a migraine,” Finn said gently. Gavin flinched as he felt Finn’s cool fingers against his head, carding gently through his damp hair. He groaned and pushed weakly into the touch.
“F-feels good,” Gavin whimpered. “I’m… s-sorry, I… I don’t know what’s… happening…”
“Honestly, I’m surprised we aren’t all having them,” Finn murmured, a smile in their voice. “They’re a really common symptom of stress. And—”
“You’re the ones who were stressed,” Gavin said, weakly. “You’re the ones who were being tortured.”
Finn blew out a slow breath through their lips. Finally, they turned to Isaac and said, “Please explain to your boyfriend what a dumbass he is. I’m going to get some ice. One of the theories about migraines is that they’re caused by a blood vessel in the brain dilating and putting pressure on the surrounding tissue. Ice on the back of the neck can constrict the—”
“Not a dumbass,” Gavin whispered, trying to ignore how his cheeks flushed. Isaac’s boyfriend? If he didn’t feel so fucking… sick…
“Yeah, sure, Gavin,” Finn said gently, and the air moved again as they stood. Their voice faded until it sounded like they were standing outside the door. “I’ll be right back, Isaac. I’ll bring a clean trashcan and clean that one. I could try to get my hands on some rizatriptan, too. A classmate of mine used to take it for her migraines. It works pretty well, from what I hear. If this is gonna be a regular thing—”
“You mean this is gonna happen again?” Isaac whispered. “Finn… he… he doesn’t fucking… Finn, just… just tell me what to do. Okay? Just… tell me what to do. He… he takes care of me, all the goddamned time. Finn, please…”
“Isaac… breathe. It’s a migraine. It sucks, but it isn’t life threatening, and there are medications that treat it. I can ask Edrissa if she knows any herbal remedies. She might—”
“You… you won’t tell her who it’s for, right? I mean…”
Finn laughed, softly. “I won’t let her poison him, Isaac. No, I’ll say it’s for Ellis. She’s been going absolutely bananaballs over that baby. She’d be happy to help.”
A pause. “…okay. I just… Finn, he… he doesn’t deserve this. After everything he did… I mean, yeah, no shit he was stressed, he walked the fucking wire for three weeks in that fucking nightmare mansion, for us. And… this is how he’s repaid?”
“I know. Believe me, I know. We’re all dealing with… various versions of this. Ellis says their morning sickness is way worse than the first two times. I’m pretty sure Tori’s got an ulcer, and Vera’s back pain has been… I mean, yesterday she could barely get out of bed. And… well. You’ve seen Sam. Although they’re getting better every day.”
“Yeah, but… Finn, could… could this be… I don’t know, a result of the head injury I gave him? I mean, that was almost a year ago now, but… could something that long ago be causing it?”
Gavin’s chest ached at the guilt in Isaac’s voice. He wanted to call out to him and tell him no, this wasn’t from the head injury, he was sure of it… but he felt if he raised his voice, his brain would catch fire and come melting out his ears like hot cheese. The thought made him gag.
“I… don’t think so. I mean… yeah, technically, it could be from that, but it’s way, way more likely that it’s from the stress. I mean… don’t tell Ellis I said this, but… I’ll never doubt his place in the family again, because of how much he sacrificed for us. His mother would have skinned him alive if she ever got even a hint that he wasn’t hers, and that he still cared about us. And he did all that anyway. It would have been… much, much easier for him to just go with it, and let her kill us one by one. I mean, she might have still killed him, but she might not. And he would be… I mean, fuck, Isaac, he was… tortured. And the torture he put himself through, lying for us… what he made himself do to you…”
“I know,” Isaac said brokenly. “There’s… no way I could ever thank him enough for what he did for us. For… for me.”
“You have a lifetime to try, Isaac.”
For a moment, the pain faded, pushed right out of Gavin’s head by his shock. He’d hoped they’d let him stay, but there was some small part of him that believed they were only letting him stay until rumors of their survival had faded, and he could be released again with minimal risk. He’d hoped they’d want him, as part of their family. He’d hoped Isaac would let him stay by his side.
The pain rushed back in and Gavin whimpered softly. Finn and Isaac were silent for a moment. The smell of his vomit was making him sick. He pressed his face against the mattress.
“You… you think he’d want me for that long? A lifetime?”
Finn sighed. “You’re both dumbasses. Yes, Isaac, I do. You’re… you’re literally the first person to ever show him what love looks like. You think he took you just for shits and giggles? I mean, for that reason, too, but… I think he wanted to see what it was that made you so special that you’d give yourself up for Sam.”
“I’m not special. Anyone else would have—”
“You are to him, Isaac. And to the rest of us, too, but absolutely to him. Now… let me go get some ice, okay? I can grab the trash can in a sec.”
“No, I… I can do that,” Isaac said, his voice low and gentle. “It’s fine.”
“…okay. Well, I’ll be back. Grab the trashcan from the bathroom.”
“Yeah.”
The voices faded. Gavin floated in the pain, every heartbeat grabbing him and pulling him back down into his body. The room moved slowly around him, the sour smell of his own sick rankling in his nose. There was a rustling, and when Gavin peeled his eyes open, there was a fresh trashcan on the floor beneath him. He sighed and pulled the covers up over his head.
After a long moment, several minutes or several hours, he couldn’t tell, he felt the mattress dip as someone sat next to him. The blanket was drawn back from over his head, and a cool compress settled on the back of his neck. He groaned softly as the cool pushed away the nausea for a moment.
“Thanks, Finn,” he whispered. Then, fingers trailed gently through his hair, and he whined softly. He’d know that touch anywhere. “Isaac,” he murmured.
“Yeah,” Isaac said softly, his hand moving slowly across Gavin’s forehead. “I asked Finn to let me bring you the ice.”
“Mmm,” Gavin moaned, and his eyes slid shut again. “Thank you.” His left eye ran tears into the sheets.
“I’m sorry you don’t feel well,” Isaac whispered. “I… didn’t know what you needed.”
“Neither did I,” Gavin mumbled. “Ice is good, though. And… and you. You’re… good.”
Isaac huffed out a laugh. “Ah. I just brought the ice—”
“But… it feels good. Thank… you.”
Isaac was silent for a moment. “Yeah, Gavin,” he said after a while.
Every heartbeat pounded in Gavin’s head. For a while, the ice helped. Gavin stirred and opened one eye, cringing when the light from the hallway stabbed into his head. “Do you… do you need to do anything else today?” he said weakly.
“I don’t have anything to do but be here with you,” Isaac whispered. “Unless you want me to go.”
“No,” Gavin sighed. “Stay… please?”
Every breath, every second, seemed to move through Gavin in slow motion. He thought back to the headaches he’d had after Isaac put him in the hospital. Those never lasted for very long, because whenever he started complaining of a headache, his mother would give him something that made him sleepy and dizzy, and he’d crawl back to bed and doze until it was over. For the first time since reaching the north, fear sunk into Gavin’s chest that if any of the team got sick – and Finn couldn’t help them – they were hundreds of miles away from the state-of-the-art hospitals that kept him alive when he’d been close to death. He curled into himself and tugged gently on his own hair, desperate for relief.
The compress on the back of his neck began to warm. Gavin whimpered, tears of frustration running from his eyes. He felt trapped in his own head, assaulted on every side by the faint light from the hallway and curtains, and by the sounds of the others somewhere else in the house.
Somewhere, in the back of his mind, was a vague memory of another cool hand on his head, a soft kiss in his hair, a low voice, soothing him as he lay in bed. Pain spiked in his head and he shoved the memory away. He didn’t need to think of her, not now.
Isaac’s hand slid down the back of his head and down his neck, under the compress. “Let me get a new one,” he said softly. The mattress bounced slightly as he stood. Gavin lay still as he walked out of the room, although all he wanted to do was to cling to Isaac, beg him to stay. The headache was getting worse.
A moment later, an eternity later, the mattress dipped again.
“Hey,” Isaac’s voice whispered, and Gavin could have sobbed with relief. “I have some tea… try some?”
Gavin moaned and obediently lifted his head. A cup pressed to his lips and he took a sip. It tasted herbal, sweet, with a hint of spice as well. There was a faint sound as Isaac put the cup on the nightstand.
“Wh-what is it?”
“Something Edrissa made,” Isaac murmured. “Tea with peppermint, lavender, ginger, rosemary, and honey. She said those herbs are good for migraine.” He pressed a fresh cold compress to Gavin’s neck.
Gavin moaned weakly. “She… tell her thank you,” he whispered.
“Hm. Maybe someday,” Isaac said. His voice sounded sad. “For right now… that tea is for Ellis, as far as she knows.”
“I hate lying to her,” Gavin whispered. “If she ever finds out, she’ll… she’ll hate me.”
The unspoken words hung in the air between them: she already hates you.
“Don’t worry about that right now,” Isaac murmured. “You can tell her once you’re better, if you really want. Right now, let’s just… focus on getting you over this. Finn already called into Burmingham to see if they carry riza— I don’t remember what it’s called. Sounds like they can order it and have it in within a week.”
“Hope I don’t get another migraine before then,” Gavin rasped, and pushed weakly into Isaac’s hands as he stroked his hair.
“Yeah,” Isaac said weakly. “Me… me too.” Isaac’s throat clicked as he swallowed. “Can I… do anything else? For you? I mean… do you need anything else?”
“I just need you,” Gavin whispered, not caring how that sounded. “Can you… can you just… I don’t know. I just want you with me.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Isaac said gently. His hand moved down to gently massage the back of Gavin’s neck. “Is that… okay?”
“Yeah,” Gavin sighed, and shuddered as another wave of nausea rolled over him. “That’s… that’s good.”
Continued here
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janicho88 · 4 years
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In This Together
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                                             Pic originally posted by jrackles                               
Pairing- Dean x Wife!Reader
Word count-9825
Summary-The reader hasn’t been feeling well and is afraid to go to a doctor, because of her medical history.  One thing seems to lead to another, but she has her husband Dean to lean on. This is AU
Warnings- Sick reader, Little bit of language, A little angst, and maybe a little fluff, slight implied smut. Possible triggers talks of multiple surgeries some are a little descriptive, talk of possible loss of fertility, female problems.
 A/N This is my first fic I have finished.  I have had some things going on, I needed someone like Dean, this was the closest I could get to having him. It is unbeta’d all mistakes are mine.  @winchest09 and @katehuntington​ you two are absolutely amazing!! Without you two, your virtual lockdowns and the people I met because of them, I never would have had the confidence to finish this let alone post it. Thank you! 
You sighed as you rolled over in bed, time to get up and start another day.  Although you were hoping today was different. You were hoping the pain you had been having which couldn’t decide whether or not it wanted to be in your side or abdomen would actually be gone.  Something that had just been in your head.   You had felt a kind of off for the last 2 weeks but had kept that to yourself.
“Morning Sweetheart,” came from your husband of four years, as Dean walked back in your room fresh from the shower. A quick kiss good morning before he finished getting dressed and you headed to get yourself ready in the bathroom.  Soon you were both out the door and off to work.  Dean was a partner in his father’s mechanic business. It was doing well for him; he’d even added on auto parts store next door.  You were running your family’s restaurants, your parents slowly cutting back on their day to day involvement, but not leaving entirely yet because you were going to need their help in the new year.
You enjoyed your mornings at work, for the first few hours it was just you preparing things for the day, your radio playing softly your only companion. It wasn’t long before your daytime employees came in and the lunch rush began you all working as a team everything going smoothly today. It was while working on clean up and the dinner prep, one of your workers, and your friend, Donna found you in a back corner with your hands on your right side. When she asked what was going on, you told her you were fine and went to finish the task you were working on. Before she left Donna passed by your office where she saw you inside with a look of pain on your face again, your ringing phone interrupted her from saying anything to you then.
Dean beat you home from work and was preparing hamburgers to grill when you walked in.  You set your things down and met him in the kitchen for a kiss, “Hey Babe, how was your day?”
“Good.  The new guy, Gabe, I was telling you about should work out well, might be a little bit of a smart ass.  Benny seems to have taken him under his wing to show him the ropes. Those two will be interesting together.  How were things at the restaurant today?”
“That’s great! I know with your Dad, and Bobby cutting back their time there you wanted at least one more person in.  Work was fine, late lunch and steady afternoon which is why I’m later getting home.”
“How’s the foot doing? You’ve been on it more with working longer hours lately.”
“Okay, as good as it’s going to be for now.”
You two enjoyed a quiet dinner, then curled up on the couch to watch a movie before heading to bed. Dean noticed you didn’t eat much of your dinner, but he figured you were either tired or grabbed a snack at the restaurant.  
Your next morning started off about the same both of you on your separate ways to work. It was afternoon when Donna saw you again with a grimace on your face and a hand on your side. A little while later she saw your running to the restroom where you threw up.
“Alright, spill Y/N. What is going on, you’ve been a little off lately?”
“Donna, I’m fine.”
“Bull, lady.  Do I need to call Dean and ask him?”
“NO!” Your head went back, and your eyes closed as you thought about what you were going to say. You went with the truth, maybe she would tell you what you were hoping, it was nothing.  “I’ve been having a sharp pain in my right side, sometimes it moves to the front and is in my abdomen.  Every once in while it might go lower.  It’s probably just a sore muscle or maybe the ulcer is coming back”  
“And the upset stomach?”
“That’s new-ish. This is nothing, I’m fine.  It can’t be anything.” You almost whispered.
“You should probably talk to your Dr.  Maybe your OB first, given your history.  That’s what your worried about right?”
With tears in your eyes you gave a soft yes.
“Call them, and then talk to Dean.  Knowing you, you haven’t said anything to him, and were going to keep pretending nothing was happening.”
You walked away to call for an appointment.  Donna was right, you were scared, and you hadn’t told Dean.  You didn’t want to go through this again.  Around year and half ago you were at a girls day out when you just didn’t feel right.  You attributed it to worry you had about something at work.  It didn’t go away and over the next two weeks things got worse. You weren’t hungry, you had a sharp pain in your side, had started burping and not been able to stop it.  That one bothered you the most.   Then you started getting sick.  Overall, you just didn’t feel well.  You figured it was early February now, you just had a good old-fashioned winter cold. When you suddenly had trouble drawing a deep breath and it hurt to breathe, you had gone to a walk-in-clinic.  They thought it was your appendix or gallbladder and sent you to your primary Doctor the next day.  They agreed and sent you to a CT Scan the next day.  Dean went with that morning and waited while you went back for the test. You were told your doctor would have to results in a few days while they were getting the test started.  When they finished the scan, they told you to stay on the table they had a radiologist coming to read the scan right then.  That hadn’t done much for your nerves.  They told you something about a mass on your ovary and kids still being possible, but you needed to see your OB asap.  You had walked back out to Dean in the waiting room in shock, not 100% sure what had happened in the last few minutes.  You had ended up having a cyst on an ovary, which had destroyed that ovary and continued to grow into what your doctor called a giant mass. It had gotten so big it was pushing on your other organs.  They had to go in and take it out.  You were getting to the point you were okay with that part, but the doctor kept talking, and you kept squeezing Dean’s hand harder.  They couldn’t see the uterus around the mass and didn’t know if it had damage or the other ovary, and there was a possibility it was cancerous.  Suddenly the kids you and Dean had been talking about and picturing, might only ever be that, talk.  You had been a wreck the morning of surgery, but Dean was in pre-op with you as long as he could be holding your hand telling you everything was going to be fine. It didn’t matter what happened with the surgery.  If it was just the two of you, or if you ended up adopting. You were in this together. He loved you and the two of you would be just fine.  The surgery had gone well.  They only had to take the mass out and the tests came back cancer free.  
Things between you and Dean were good.  The last year and half had been crazy, no kids yet, although that wasn’t due to lack of trying in the beginning.  The December after your surgery you had ended up with a stomach ulcer and they found a fibroid on your uterus.  You really couldn’t catch a break.  Your doctor had wanted to put you on birth control to slow down the growth for now.  Here you were, once again worried that you wouldn’t be able to give Dean the baby you knew he wanted. His brother Sam, and his wife Jess had had their first child a few months prior and Dean was the loving uncle.  Holding little Jake, he could calm him down faster than anyone but Jess. He spent a bit of time telling him all about Baby, and the things he would teach him when he was older.  You were fairly certain he might get that boy in trouble with a few things, but that could be dealt with in a few years.  You knew Dean was hoping for the day he would be holding his own baby, and teaching them, you were afraid you were never going to be able to give him that.  
You were sitting on the couch when Dean came home from work.
“Hey Sweetheart, how was your day?”
“Fine, how were things at the shop?”
“Good, busy. Dinner smells great.”
“Thanks, it’s got about a half hour till it’s done.  I know you want to shower, but can I talk to you first?”
“Always.”
Dean joined you on the couch as you started explaining.  “So I’ve been feeling kind of off lately, not quite right.  Pain in my side and abdomen.  The last few days throwing up if I ate and drank much.  It’s a bit like before.”
Dean moved closer and held you as he asked, “Are you thinking you have another mass, the fibroid, or something else?”
“I don’t know, and that scares me.  I want it to be nothing, but we both know my luck isn’t that good.  I have an appointment next Wednesday with my OB/GYN. I figured it would cut some of the middle wait time out.”
“Do you want me to go with you?”
“Thanks, but I think I will be ok alone with this first visit.”
“Wait, don’t you have your foot appointment that day?”
“Yes, but it’s in the morning.”
Wednesday your appointments finally arrived.  You had been having trouble with your foot for a few years now, it had gotten so bad you couldn’t even wear a tennis shoe anymore.  You actually were supposed to have surgery on it a few years ago, the same year you had found the mass and had to have that removed instead.  It was a pretty simple appointment; they did updated x-rays since you hadn’t had any in over a year and talked again with the surgeon about what surgery would entail.  He was a foot and ankle specialist at the University hospital.  This was going to be your third foot/ankle related surgery but the first on your right foot.  You had had different doctors each time, and you like this one the best.  He was extremely knowledgeable and easy to talk to.  You may have been nervous for this surgery, but that was because of everything it was going to involve.  You were born with as the doctors called them extremely high arches.  It had caused you a number of problems over the years, sprained ankles, multiply breaks, and your two other surgeries.  They were going to go in and break your fifth metatarsal and put a plate in there and realign it, cut the Achilles tendon and lengthen it, you had tears in the Peroneal tendon which had to be fixed and then attached to the Brevis tendon to strengthen it, ligaments on the inside and outside of the foot needed to be tightened or loosened depending on the side.  You had had all of that done nine years ago on your other foot, but because of problems you had with that first surgery they were taking it a step further. They were going to cut the bones in your heel and realign them.  That part was making you the most nervous.  You would be spending the 3 months following surgery on crutches, possibly longer.  You had spent enough time on them over the years, you were pretty good on them at least. You had been planning on the surgery happening in January, you couldn’t put it off any longer.
The worst part of all this has been the not knowing because your mind is great at making up worst case scenarios, you were a bit worked up for your afternoon OB appointment.  You and your doctor talked and going over your symptoms he was sending you for a CT scan the following week because he thought you might have a kidney stone based on some of your symptoms. He also ordered an ultrasound to check on the fibroid. They don’t do anything with fibroids until they are over 4 cm and causing problems.  When yours was found it was at 3.3 cm, so they had just put you on birth control.  The doctor talked about what could happen if it was the fibroid.  You might need surgery to remove it, if it was to big, they might have to take the uterus out or there were shots out that put you in menopause for a while.  You were due back in his office in two and half weeks to go over the tests.  More waiting, just great.
Dean had dinner waiting for you when you got home. You explained the tests the doctor wanted and what he told you he was thinking.  You never thought you would be in a spot where kidney stones were an option you were hoping for. You two spent the evening on the couch watching movies compromising on your choices. Since Halloween was coming soon Dean wanted a horror movie, you agreed if you watched that one first and ended your night with The Proposal.  That way your mind wasn’t on a horror movie just before bed.
The next week went fairly quickly and your tests were done you were just waiting on follow up. You and Dean both busy at work during the days.  You had lost a manager, you mom had been taking on a lot of caterings which kept her out of the store, and Donna couldn’t pick up more hours because she was taking care of her sister, Jody’s daughters at night.  All this meant you were working open to close three to four days a week and at least 8 hours the other days.  You would get home at night and not want to move from your couch.  Friday morning you were doing your prep work when you received a call from your doctor’s office.  They had both of your results in. They didn’t find kidney stones; the fibroid had doubled in size and there was a mass on your remaining ovary.  Your follow-up appointment with them was 10 days away, but they wanted to see you as soon as you could come in the next day they were open, which was Tuesday.  The last surgery you needed was like that, everything done asap.  You had found out about the mass and a week later you were in surgery.
You hung up with them and called Dean in tears.  Your mind automatically going through worse case scenarios.  He did his best to calm you down and tell you everything would be okay. You two were going to be alright. You called your mom when you hung up from Dean and filled her in on your results. Making yourself get back to work.
Being a Friday, you had a busy lunch rush and had a bit of clean up and more prep work to get ready for the dinner rush.  You were working in the back when the door buzzer went off notifying you of someone coming in.  Donna called you to the front saying a customer needed your help.  The first genuine smile you had all day coming to your face as you took in Dean standing there with a bunch of colorful flowers.  
“Oh Dean, they’re beautiful! Thank you!”
“Not half as beautiful as you Y/N, how are you holding up sweetheart?”    
“I’ve been better. It’s going to be a long weekend waiting to see what he has to say.  My mom talked to my cousin who does some work at the hospital, a friend of hers works for an OB/GYN who has been around awhile and is the only one in town who does this surgery robotically.  I have an appointment with him next week also for his opinion.”
“It’s all going to work out, no matter what it’s you and me together.  I have to get back to work and I know you do to, I just wanted to stop in and see how you were doing.”
“Thank you, Baby, I appreciate it so much.  I love you.”
“Love you too Sweetheart.  I will see you at home tonight”
When you weren’t at work, you and Dean hung out at home over the weekend.  He did his best to take his mind off of your upcoming appointment.  You greatly appreciated his effort.  Before you knew it, Tuesday afternoon rolled around.  This time dean accompanied you to the appointment.  The doctor explained that the fibroid was now at 6.7cm and was what was causing your problems.  He was really pushing these shots you take once a month that put you in menopause for six months. He told you that it would shrink the fibroid, and that would be best to start with.  The other options he was giving you were waiting and getting another ultrasound end of December/early January and coming back then or go in and do surgery sometime. You weren’t sure how you felt about either of those options but were glad he wasn’t going in right away to take out the uterus.  What did frustrate you the most, was how the call on Friday made it sound like things were worse and you needed to come in asap for something to be done, and the doctor wasn’t doing anything right now.
You and Dean both felt a little calmer when you left the office.  “What are you thinking about your options, Darling?”
“Honestly, I’m not so sure about those shots, I would need a lot more information on them first. The whole being put into menopause has me nervous.  That’s not something I ever thought I would be thinking about at 31.  When I talked to the nurse on the phone Friday she made this seem so much worse, and he’s not doing anything other than the shots now. I guess we’ll see what the other doctor says tomorrow.”
The next morning you and Dean were at the other doctor’s office.  New patient paperwork all filled out and you were waiting to go back. Your cousin’s friend called your name and took you back.  She had been talking to your mom, so she knew what was going on and had shared it with the doctor.  You asked her opinion on the shots, and she just shook her head.  She told you there wasn’t any guarantee it would even work, and there was a lot of risk with what going into menopause could do to you and your chance of having a child.  You would have to sign a number of documents that said you didn’t hold that company responsible for any of the large number of side effects.
“I wasn’t sold on them before, I’m really not know” you told her and Dean.
The doctor came in shortly after and did quick exam.  You had asked his opinion on what to do, he said taking it out would be the best thing to try and preserve the uterus and a chance for you to have children in the future. Yes, you could have a child with a fibroid on the uterus, but as big as it was it could cause problems. It didn’t end up being a long appointment because he was called away for a birth. He did order 2 tests and you set those up before leaving.  One was another ultrasound to check where the fibroid was and if that would cause any problems itself. The other was to check the uterus for any cancer spots, they did warn you that one could be painful, and you weren’t going to want to do much after the test was done. You had those both scheduled for the following Tuesday and Wednesday.
As you walked out to your cars you asked Dean “What did you think of him, and everything said?”
“They are both pretty against the shots, and I know you didn’t really like the idea of them either. You cousin said he has more experience, right?”
“Yes, he does. I’ve talked to a few others that know him, and they all like him.  Donna’s aunt was an OB and she referred patients to him if it was something she couldn’t do.”
“Ultimately Y/N, it comes down to what you think, and what you want to do.  We can talk more at home on your thoughts and see what these tests say.  I will support your decision no matter what.”
“Thank you, Babe. I love you.  Have a great day at work.”
“I love you too. I hope you have a great one as well.”
You were talking to Donna at work about everything that you had found out.  She had spent a little time working in her aunt’s office and at one point had been premed in school, you valued her opinion.
“You need to get it taken out girly, it’s already grown a lot on you.  I know how much you and Dean want kids.  If you wait too long you run the risk of losing that chance.”
“Part of me knows that, but the other part of me is worried about what is going to happen during surgery.”
“That’s understandable, any surgery there is a risk.  This doctor has done thousands of these, you’ll be fine, most importantly you’ll be better. Don’t ignore this, Dean and you can adopt if you can’t have kids, Dean won’t be fine if he loses you.  Don’t do those shots, there is a lot of risk with those, and you could run into even more problems.”
“Those shots are pretty much off the table, I really don’t like the idea of them.  I know your right, a part of me just really doesn’t want more surgery.  The last week the pain has gotten worse so I don’t know that I can put this off.”
“I know Sweetie, surgery makes anyone nervous.  This will all work out.”
“Thanks, Donna, you are an amazing friend.”
After dinner that night you and Dean were sitting in the living room and you decided you weren’t going to think about any medical issues.  While he had the game on you grabbed your computer and recipe binder. Settling next to Dean on the couch you pulled up Pinterest and Christmas recipe ideas. You had been scrolling for a few minutes when Dean looked over at your screen.
“What are you looking up Christmas for?”
“Mom and Dad’s Christmas party is a month from tomorrow, and I need to get my baking list around.”
“What do you mean a month away, that’s before Thanksgiving?”
“With Thanksgiving being so late this year, they are doing it the Saturday before.  That way it has less chance running into other Holiday parties.  You don’t want to do it Thanksgiving weekend, and then there are only three other weekends before Christmas and there will be a bit going on.  So I need to figure out what’s on my baking list this year, what’s staying, what I’m adding.”
“It’s too early to talk Christmas.”
“Hallmark starts Christmas movies this weekend, Saturday has some of my favorites we can watch after work!”    
“It’s not even Halloween Y/N, I’m not watching Christmas movies!” Dean threw his head back against the couch turning slightly to glare at you.
“You say that now, we’ll see what happens when I get that remote,” you smirked.  “I could happily watch them year-round.”
“Ehh, your getting better with that.  You used to be into Christmas songs and movies 361, the couple days leading up to Christmas Eve and sometimes that morning you were a little bah humbug saying you were done with all of it.  Then the day after Christmas you start singing Frosty again.”
You just glared at him for a minute, “It was the stress, and trying to get everything just right and make everyone happy.  My shopping will be done, before 2 days before Christmas this year.  I’m going to enjoy it, no stress.”
“Sure thing, Sweetheart, whatever you say.  We’ll see how you are on December 23rd.”
“Going back to the Holiday of the month we are actually in, Sam wanted to know if we wanted to come over Thursday night.  See Jake in his first Halloween costume, hand out candy to the Trick-or-Treaters.  Mom and dad are going to be there too.”
“Sure I’m in. It’s usually a busy night for us so I will be over after I can leave work.”
“Okay so we have my usual baking items: Sugar cookies I  think I’m going to keep it simple and just do drop cookies instead of cut outs, buckeyes, peanut butter blossoms, no bakes, petit-fours, truffles, cranberry bars and the varieties of chocolates those I’ll make with mom. Now I need to figure out some new ones. Hey what do you think about, hey, where are you going?”
“I need a beer if we are going to talk about your crazy Christmas baking list.”
You waited for Dean to settle back next to you to show him your finds.
https://www.pinterest.com/pin/174584923042596801/
https://www.pinterest.com/pin/174584923042596805/
“You’re on a Grinch kick this year aren’t you? You mentioned a few weeks ago you wanted a Grinch sweatshirt this year.”
“Maybe, part of me is. Anyways thoughts? What about these?” https://www.pinterest.com/pin/174584923042556919/
“Ooohhhh, Do you think I could make these?” https://www.pinterest.com/pin/174584923040748115/
“We aren’t going to be using our kitchen to make actual food anytime soon are we?  I love you and you are very talented when it comes to your baking but I don’t know if you have the patience for those cupcakes.”
“You’re probably right, it does tend to run thinner when I’m trying to get all this stuff done. Look on the bright side, the party is early this year so I will have the kitchen back to normal sooner.”
“Sureee you will.”
You weren’t going to admit it to Dean right now, but you were trying to force yourself into the Holiday spirit. With everything going on you weren’t sure you were going to be in the celebrating mood this year.  You knew how much he loved the Holiday, and the time with family together. You would put on a happy face for him.
Dean took you to your appointment Tuesday afternoon, because they didn’t recommend driving after since you were going to be in a bit of pain.  It wasn’t even a five minute test to go take a swab of the uterus lining to send in to check for abnormal or cancer cells. They were right though, you definitely hurt after.  You and Dean picked up food on the way home so neither of you would have to cook or clean up. He got you situated on the couch with a heating pad after you got home. You two spent another quiet night in.  The next afternoon you took yourself to your ultrasound.  The results for both tests would be back in time for your appointment the following Tuesday.  
Thursday was Halloween, and you were short handed at work again, but not as busy as you were expecting to be.  You left around 7 and headed over to Sam and Jess’ house.  5-month-old Jake was dressed up in a cute duck onesie.  After saying hi to the couple, your husband, and his parents you grabbed some food and settled down with Jake.  You were told you just missed Cas, his wife Kelly, and their son Jack. The one year old getting cranky and ready for bed.  Jess and Mary joined you shortly.  The guys were watching one of the All Saint’s Day movies.  Apparently having a little one to get excited about put Sam in a better Halloween mood then he usually was in.  Mary asked how you were doing; Dean had apparently told her a few days before and Jess had just found out tonight.
“I’m alright, it’s been going on over a month and I think at this point I want a plan.  I want to know what’s going to happen.  But I want to make sure that we decide on the right course of action too.”
Both ladies assured you they thought you would be fine, and that everything would work out for you. Your attention turning to the little boy on the floor in front of you.
You spent your weekend working and had started some grocery shopping for you baking supplies.  Those supplies then found a home on your kitchen counter.  So Dean was right, he was slowing losing the kitchen for a little while.
Tuesday afternoon saw you and Dean back in your new doctor’s office waiting to be called back.  It wasn’t a long wait and you headed back. Thankful your tests had come back normal and the new ultrasound didn’t show any new problems.  Because of the last surgery you had there was to much scar tissue in your abdomen for the surgery to be done robotically, and the fibroid was too big.  You did have the option for another procedure, he described it as resetting your uterus.  He did tell you it wouldn’t do anything for the fibroid, but it could get your periods back under control and might lesson some pain, you would need a few days off work. The best chance you had if you wanted to get pregnant sometime was to have the fibroid removed.  Now you just needed to make a decision on what you were going to do.  You were leaning toward surgery and when you didn’t make a definitive decision the doctor told you to come back in 2 weeks.  When you were checking out and scheduling the next appointment you asked how far out the wait for surgery was. His calendar was filling up and he only had December 9th and 23rd open.
On your way home you and Dean talked about what you both were thinking.  You told him you were leaning toward surgery, and he also thought that would be your best choice.  Now you just weren’t sure you really wanted to wait.  If you called your first doctor, he could do the surgery in two weeks, he just had to wait for insurance purposes.  Honestly, he was never busy. That put you the day before your parents Christmas party or waiting till the next weekend which was the day after Thanksgiving.  Another problem you had was making sure you had help at work. Right now, you didn’t have the help to do it.  If you pushed it too far into December it was going to be a problem with your foot surgery.  They had said with your stomach because they were cutting it open you would need to be careful not to tear your stitches for a few weeks and be limited for 6 weeks with what you could do. Crutches weren’t going to be a good thing to mix in.  
Your parents, you and Dean all talked.  You didn’t have the help to do the surgery in November, December wasn’t a good idea because of your next surgery.  You decided if the doctor thought you could wait you would do the foot surgery in January and then six weeks later when you should be able to start putting some pressure on your foot you would have the other.  That way the six weeks you needed to be careful with the second surgery would be ending in time for therapy in May.  Work was going to be getting better help wise because you were selling on of your locations.  The gas station next door to one of them wanted to expand and the only way they could was if they bought your property.  That deal was supposed to close first of January. Your foot surgery was scheduled for the 16th.  Things seemed to fall in to place for that all to work out.
You still weren’t feeling the best, but you were glad to have noticed you didn’t have the pain in your side and stomach every day anymore.  It had turned into just having really bad periods every few weeks.
When you went to your appointment two weeks later you went alone and talked to the doctor about your thoughts and timeline. He didn’t think that would be a problem, telling you before he left that removing it was your best option.  They weren’t’ scheduling yet for February or March so they would call you when those books opened.
If you were honest, you were feeling better with what you had decided on.  Also, the fact that no one was worried enough to say you had to get in right now for surgery.  You were still going to worry between now and surgery it was just who you were.  
It was the third week of November, your new focus on the upcoming Holidays.  You had already started your baking, freezing everything once it was made cooled and put in an airtight container. The list was still shorter this year it only had about 15 things on it.  You didn’t get the Grinch recipes made, or the snow globe cupcakes, but you did make the thumb print snowmen. Next year.  Two days before the party you moved on from baking to getting the food you were doing around.  In between all this also trying to help your mom decorate their house and putting decorations up at yours.  You didn’t end up doing as much to your house as you usually would, but just less to take down after and you knew things would be crazy then.  
The day of the party both you and your mom ended up being stuck at work longer than you were supposed to be.  This meant you had to work quicker when you got home.  Dean went to your parents with you to help with the last minute set up. It was nice living on the same street as them, so you didn’t have far to go.  With the final cleaning finished you were in the kitchen with Dean starting to get food around while your mom ran upstairs to shower.  Your brother and his girlfriend coming shortly after.  They had been dating for almost a year, but she didn’t come around much, so you didn’t know her well.  Trying to ask her questions about herself didn’t get you very far because she only gave one-word answers.  You looked to Dean and he just shrugged his shoulders, not knowing how to get much out of her either.  When your mom came back down, and the food was in good shape you and dean went home to get ready and get the desserts.
You always enjoyed this party it was family from both of your parent’s sides, Dean’s family started coming when you two were dating. A variety of your parent’s friends along with your brother’s and yours. You were surprised to see more cars in the driveway when you returned. Cas, Benny and Kelly were in the kitchen talking to your dad and brother, along with one of his old friends from school. It didn’t take long for the house to fill up with people and the sounds of laughter.  It was close to one by the time you and Dean went home after helping to clean up.  You were beat and ready to fall into bed, Dean not far behind.
The restaurant you were selling, was the store you spent every day at, it had been your baby over the last 8 years.  Since you were going to be closing it soon you had cut back on the Sunday hours which meant you and Dean could enjoy a lazy morning after the party. It was nice not to get up and go, you had missed the relaxing mornings you two used to enjoy. When you finally dragged yourselves from bed it was to the kitchen to make a late breakfast of eggs, bacon and toast. You would have to head in to work after lunch, but that didn’t mean you had to be in a hurry to get ready.  After cleaning up the kitchen Dean dragged you back to the bedroom where you spent a little more time catching up.
That week was Thanksgiving which meant a shorter work week for you both.  Thursday morning started off much like Sunday’s had, although you both had to be out the door by noon and have your food and deserts ready. A late lunch with your family at your grandmother’s house was first.  The Y/L/N could be a rowdy group, so it was usually a good time as long as you could avoid any family arguments.  After cleaning up there you would head to Dean’s parents where they had an early dinner. You tried not to eat too much at either place for two reasons, one you wanted to be able to move later and two you were trying to avoid being sick.  It didn’t hit you as much as before, but you never knew when it would.  After the guys collapsed in front of the football game on tv, Mary and Jess hit the adds. You left to go pick up your mom.  The last two years you to had done some Thursday evening shopping because you both worked on Friday, and it gave you time just he two of you.  You hit the mall and a few stores trying to start on your shopping list.  You meant it when you told Dean that everything was going to be done early this year. You were going to enjoy the Holiday season.  When you finished you dropped her back at home before going back to your in-laws. A short time later you and Dean headed home.
Much like it does every year December flies by.  You hadn’t finished your shopping as early as you wanted, but you weren’t as stressed about it this year.  You enjoyed nights with Dean curled up on the couch.  You had seen the Grinch more times than you could count this year, I guess you were having a Grinchy year.  Before you knew it, Christmas Eve was here.  Both you and Dean worked that morning before meeting your families at church for the 4 o’clock service.  You had to go early if you wanted a park, and a seat.  It was always so beautifully decorated for Christmas, you enjoyed taking it all in waiting for Mass to start. One of your favorite parts of this service was when Father would call any little kids up that wanted to and ask them questions about the religious aspects of the holiday. Where was Jesus born?  Your favorite answer this year was Baltimore. What gifts did the baby receive? Cake and ice cream.  The answers they came up with were always a laugh.  You hoped you would be sending your own child up there someday.
Everyone headed to your parents’ house after, some other family and friends would be joining you. You had dinner and then played games. As you and your cousins had grown so had the games.  Jake was the only child present and he wasn’t old enough to understand what was going on. With all the adults playing it could get a little rowdy especially between Sam and Dean.  One of your aunts had done that gifts wrapped in a saran wrap ball and it seemed like only those two could make much progress.  So of course, when one of them was trying to unwrap the other would give a little trash talk.  You had been feeling a little off and would disappear from the room.  When the ball was unwrapped, and Dean saw you left again he came to find you.  He found you sitting on the steps just outside your parents’ upstairs bathroom.
“Everything all right, Sweetheart?”
“Not really, my stomach is hurting me a bit and if I try to eat or drink I’m running to the restroom because it’s going to make a reappearance.”
“Anything I can do to make it better?”
“Thank you, but no I just need to tough it out.”
“Soon Y/N this is all going to be behind you honey.”
“I cannot wait.”
He held you close as you both sat on the steps for a few minutes softly kissing the top of your head.  When you rejoined your family, they were on to a different game.  The two of you hanging back to watch.  When the time came to leave you were more than ready to head home just so Dean could hold you in bed.  You fell into a fitful sleep that night, not feeling all that much better when you awoke.
The two of you were spending the morning at your mom and dad’s and then going to John and Mary’s in the afternoon. Your dad’s mom and siblings joined you for breakfast and afterwards you exchanged gifts.  Luckily, you only had to leave the room once.  Dean knew you weren’t feeling well so the two of you left shortly after to go home before heading to his parent’s house. When you arrived, you headed to the kitchen to help Mary.  The two of you got along really well, you often considered yourself luck in that way. A few of your friends didn’t have the best relationship with their in-laws. By the time Sam and Jess arrived dinner was ready, and you all gathered round the table to enjoy. It was a great night spent with them.
The end of December was quickly approaching, and you hadn’t heard anything from the company buying your story, communication had just stopped.  After you talked to your dad, he started making phone calls to the company again to see what was going on.  Their plans for the property and been pushed back a few months so they were no longer in a hurry to close. You ended up pushing your foot surgery back there weeks till the 6th of February.  Your dad finally got a date out of them you were closing on Monday the 3rd of February, that would also be the last day open.  You would spend the next two days moving everything out. The New Year wasn’t even here yet and you knew it was going to be going fast.  
Things were going to get busy for you in January, so you and Dean decided you just wanted a quiet night in for New Year’s.  At the store you picked up a bottle of Sparkling Cider to toast with, neither one of you big Champagne drinkers, along with a few different appetizers to make.  The evening was spent curled up on the couch watching movies, until you switched over to watch the ball drop. Sharing a sweet kiss with Dean when midnight arrived.  This was going to be your year.  The surgeries would be done soon, you and Dean could move on with the rest of your lives, it was all going to work out and be fine.
You had been right when you told Dean January would be crazy.  You spent the month working on cleaning out things at work.  The office took a bit of time, dividing up what was going home and what you were sending to your new office.   Cleaning out things you didn’t use any more, what you were selling and what was moving to the other location.  On top of all that you were trying to keep a relatively clean house and not let everything there fall on Dean’s shoulders. Everyday it seemed like a little bit more left the store and the shelves were slowly becoming bare.
Sunday through Wednesday of closing week was going to be extremely chaotic for you all, so you wanted things at home that needed to be done before surgery finished by Saturday. You cleaned the house top to bottom, rearranged the living room furniture so it would be easier to navigate on crutches, got the crutches ready,  finished laundry and tried to stock up on non-perishable groceries so Dean wouldn’t have to go out as much.  
The last two days you were open were particularly emotional for you.  This location had been your baby and second home for the last 8 years, you had helped with the cleaning, gutting, and remodeling of the building when you bought it.  Everything was set up just how you wanted it.  When you went back to work in a few months at the other location it was going to be vastly different.  Sitting at the closing you were trying to hold back the tears as you signed the papers, part of you wished Dean was there to give you some of his strength but he had to be at the shop that day since he was taking the next 3 days off.  Leaving the closing you went to work to open for the last time.  That day was extremely busy for your and Donna so many of your loyal customers coming in one last time.  Dean came in for a late lunch giving you a much-needed hug, he left after promising to be back before closing.  Dean along with your parents came back before closing helping you to clean up and finish making orders.  When you turned the open sign off one last time Dean pulled you into his arms and held you while you cried.
“It’s okay Sweetheart. It’s the start of a new chapter, you have a lot of memories to take with you.”
“Thanks, Dean. I know, I just hate goodbyes, and change.”
“I know you do, but it’s a good one.  Keep telling yourself that.  Closing this story is going to help greatly relieve some stress.”
“You’re right, Babe.”
“Hey! I’m always right. We should probably head home; we have an early busy day tomorrow.”
It was six am when you and Dean pulled back into the parking lot the next day.  You had wanted a few minutes without the others around to take care of some of your stuff.  By 6:30 someone was there to disconnect the water lines so the pop dispenser and ice machine could be moved.  Your parents arrived at 7 and you started loading both of their trucks and the trailer with items going to the other store.  Sam arrived and went with Dean in one of the trucks following your mom to go unload. Electricians, and others arrived to get the oven and its components unhooked.  You had gone around the day before and put a note on everything stating where it was going, whether the other store, your or your parents’ house for storage, staying in the building or going somewhere and you just didn’t know where yet.  The movers were the last to arrive taking some of the bigger equipment for you, this way you guys didn’t have to figure out how to get it on and off a trailer.  Dean and Sam arrived back to help load the truck and your SUV. At one-point Dean took one of the “going somewhere” notes and tapped it to your back.  It was awhile and two stops later before anyone told you. It was 6 o’clock that night when you put the last load in your car to leave for the day, heading home to unload one more time.  By the time it was unloaded your foot hurt so bad you could barely walk, both you and Dean collapsing on the couch not moving till you went to bed.
The next day you had a few more things to get out of the store and had to meet the pop company to pick up their equipment since they couldn’t come the previous day.  You left the store that afternoon for the final time. Your OB and scheduled one last ultrasound you had to run and get that done, thankfully the fibroid had not changed from your last one in December. One more grocery store run to stock up for a bit, then home to vacuum and make sure you were all packed for the hospital.  
Both your mom and Dean were going with you for surgery, but Dean had an early morning meeting the next day he couldn’t reschedule so your mom was staying the night in the hospital and bringing you home the next day.  It was an hour drive and you had to be there at 6:30 for an 8:30 surgery. You went through all your pre-op things and your mom and Dean joined you back there waiting for you to go.  Several people were in and out of your little curtain room, the surgeon, anesthesiologist, nurses, and med students.  It was finally time to wheel you back after getting one last hug and kiss from Dean and him telling you everything would be fine.  A few hours later you woke up in recovery which is where you saw Dean and your mom again.  It is also where you found out they didn’t have a room for you, and you were staying in a short-term patient ward.  It was almost like a pre-op room, one giant room with 15 curtained off rooms.  Actually, the pre-op room was bigger.  There was a bed a chair and one of the old hospital TVs that moved.  The back of your foot where they did the heal work was bleeding through your after surgery splint and they said it would take a few hours to stop so they propped it up and told you, you couldn’t get out of bed. It only took a few hours for you to be tired of sitting in one spot, as someone who spent all day on her feet this was a struggle.  Sleeping in a hospital had never come easy for you with your previous surgeries and adding all the extra noise with so many people around that wasn’t happening either.  It was later in the afternoon when you told Dean he should go.
“Babe, you might as well head home, you have an hour drive and there isn’t anything you can do here. Plus, there really isn’t any room in here.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want to leave if you need me.”
“We will be fine, I’m not moving, and mom will be here if I need something.  Go home get some rest it’s been a long week.  I love you I’ll see you at home tomorrow.”
“Love you too, I’ll call you later. Take care Sweetheart. Y/M/N, call me if you need something or anything.” He gave you a kiss and hugged your mom before leaving.
The rest of the evening and night dragged on, when you finally fell asleep that night you woke up almost every half and hour. The nurses were in every hour, and around 2am one of the other patients started screaming because he pulled something out he shouldn’t have.  By 5 am you gave up on sleep.  One of the doctors came in later in the morning to wrap another layer of gauze around your splint to cover up the blood, and by noon they let you go home.  
The next two weeks went fairly quickly, Dean made a good nurse when he was home at night getting you whatever you needed so you didn’t have to get up or try and carry anything while using the crutches.  You had practiced on the crutches before surgery, but it is still a little different when you have to be using them.  As your family knew well, you were also accident prone and managed to slip and slam your foot down a handful of times.  Both your parents, and his would stop over during the day to see if you needed anything or to bring you lunch.   The stitches and staples came out at the two-week mark, that wasn’t a fun experience you had never had it hurt as much as it did this time.  The doctor wasn’t putting you in a cast, he was going to let you leave in a boot which you would be able to take off if you were sitting with it up or to shower.  Thank you for small miracles!  The next appointment was four weeks away, the Friday before your Monday surgery.
The next month went fine for you, just very long.  You were still stuck at home so things did get a bit boring, a number of new games could be found on your phone and you found a website with fanfiction from your favorite show you started reading.  While fine for you, things were going nuts in the outside world, something called Covid-19 was making a lot of people extremely sick, overseas countries shut down and in the U.S., many states were doing the same thing.  Your follow up appointment was cancelled and moved to a video chat, then days before it was scheduled your next surgery was cancelled.  Stay at home orders were put in place and masks were required for those who had to leave the house.  
It was definitely a crazy time and it went on for a few months.  6 weeks after you last video appointment,  during the first full week of May, you had another and this one sent you to therapy if you could find someone open.  You could also lose the boot and work on losing the crutches. The place you had gone for past surgeries was open and you started back there.  This surgery was the hardest time you had to start walking again.  There was a bit of pain if your heel hit the ground, so you couldn’t completely get rid of the crutches like you wanted to.  The therapist you were working with said with the type of surgery done to your heel, the pain you had with it would determine what you could do and how fast you would get there.  
You got a call from your OB’s office, they were given the clear to start surgeries again and yours was scheduled for June 1st, which was two weeks away.  You had had a few problems over the last couple of months and just hoped nothing had changed and they would be able to just go in and take the fibroid out no problem.  The closer the date got the more worried you became.  Dean tried to tell you everything was going to be fine, and not to worry, but you aren’t the best listener.  Because of things going on with Covid, you needed to be home the week before surgery as much as possible only going to therapy twice and the grocery store once early in the week to get a few things you wanted.  For the last three months Dean had done the shopping, and you were thankful, but there were a few things you wanted to get yourself.  Saturday you were going to have to get a Covid test and then had to self-isolate until you left for the hospital on Monday morning.  The hardest part of that was going to be sleeping in a different room from Dean, you were even supposed to wear a mask when he was in the same room as you.  You had spent the week before rearranging the living room again, then cleaning the house best you could as you hobbled around. Friday night you spent the evening with Dean curled up in your spots on the couch.  The closer you got to surgery the more nervous you became.      
“Sweetheart, everything is going to go just fine.  There is nothing for you to worry about, and no matter how much you worry it isn’t going to change anything.”
“I know, I’m just, I can’t help it.  You know how my mind works I’m great at going to the worse case possible. I’ve always wanted kids, and I know you did too, I’m afraid I’m not going to be able to give that to you.”
“Hey, it’s you and me no matter what happens.  If we can have kids one day awesome, if not we will look into adopting.  What’s not changing is you and me, we are in this together, always.”
“I love you.  Thanks for being so amazing, especially during these last crazy months when I couldn’t do much on my own.”
“I love you, too. That’s what I’m here for, you would do the same thing for me.  You always take care of me when I’m sick.  I will always be here for you.”
“I will always be here for you too.”
Saturday morning you did a few more things around the house before giving Dean a kiss and leaving for your test.  It went fairly quick your doctor’s office scheduled you an appointment and you preregistered. You headed home to work on laundry and make sure you bag was packed. That evening you and Dean were watching movies in the living room, although unlike usual you weren’t sitting together on the couch.  Sunday was a warm sunny day, so you enjoyed it outside. Monday morning Dean took you to the hospital, you went through check in and then through the routine in pre-op.  Just before they took you back you snuck in a quick hug and kiss from Dean.  
“I love you, Baby, everything is going to be just fine.  I will talk to you after surgery.”
“I love you too, thank you for everything.”
“You don’t have to thank me for anything.  We are in this together.  Love you Sweetheart.”
Dean was able to stay at the hospital during surgery, but he had to leave after. They weren’t allowing visitors into the hospital, so you were going to be on your own in the hospital for the next three days. Dean headed to the waiting room and they came to wheel you back to surgery.  Well, here goes nothing. 
Part 2
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capricornus-rex · 4 years
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A Shadow of What You Used to Be (10)
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Chapter 10: A Home Away | Cal Kestis x Irele Skywalker
Cal Kestis x Fem! OC
Requested by Anon
Summary: There is another! Years after young Anakin Skywalker departed Tatooine, his mother Shmi delivers a second child—this time, a daughter. Whilst the circumstance of the girl’s birth remains unexplained, Irele Skywalker has yet to choose the true path between those laid out for her.
Tags: Fem! OC, Irele Skywalker, Force-sensitive! OC, Anakin’s Younger Sister, Skywalker! OC, Darth Vader’s Secret Apprentice, Long-lost Sibling
Requesting to be tagged: @heavenly1927​
Also in AO3
Chapters: Prelude – 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5 – 6 – 7 – 8 | Previous: Part 9 | Next: Part 11 | Masterlist
11 of ?
The maintenance droids only needed an hour to prepare a dorm for Irele within the command ship. Not that she would need a personal room in every ship she boards, but it would help if she did in the near future. The human guards did not need to wait for Irele to come to, they barged into the cell, pulled the poor girl by the arm to stand her up and then drag her out of the prison block while she could barely use her own two feet.
Irele’s eyes have not adjusted to the changing tones and gradients of lights of each part of the ship she passes through. She thought she said the question “Where are we going?” when the guards only heard an incoherent groaning at the throat.
The way from the prison block to her new chambers was a ten-minute walk, if one marched faster it would have been lesser. Upon reaching their destination, only one escorted her into her room and sat her down on the bed—to which she immediately fell limp and ended up lying down instead. While she was out cold, a nanny droid entered her bedroom to tend to whatever it can in the quarters; it took its time, in fact, until the girl came to. The droid’s sensors picked up the spike from Irele’s heart rate from slow to normal, it briskly turned around.
“It is fortunate that you’ve come to, milady. The serum from the probe has completely worn off. Should you feel slight nausea, do not be alarmed for it is normal as well. I can administer some painkillers to you with your choice of pill or syrup.”
The droid is programmed to speak in Basic and had a rather lulling, female voice—perhaps the most appropriate if you are to manufacture and program a droid for nursing.
“Milady? What are you talking about? Who are you? What are you?”
“You are here as a ward under the strict order of Master Vader. I am HY-L33, Nanny Droid,” it brought its head into a bow, “At your service, Milady Irele.”
“Why call me Milady when I’m kept hostage here?” she sits up and examines the room.
“Oh, you are mistaken, Milady. You are Lord Vader’s ward,” HY-L33 corrects. “And I have been tasked to take care of your basic needs and whims, if need be.”
“What I need is to go home! I don’t like being holed up in anywhere!”
The nurse droid lowered its head slowly, it stayed like so for a moment; with a rather sympathetic voice, HY-L33 responds, “I’m sorry, but I am incapable of fulfilling that whim, milady. I would suggest that you make yourself comfortable in this new one.”
Irele sighed, knowing that she’s talking to a wall here. She gave herself time to calm down and breathe. She passed her hands across her face and sighed.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be lashing out to you…” Irele inhaled. “What are you called again?”
“HY-L33, madam.”
Irele quietly parroted the name, “That’s a mouthful. How about I call you Haylee, is that alright?”
“If it proves to be more convenient for you, milady. Although personally, I do adore the name you’ve given me.”
Irele hummed as she managed a small smile, she hinted the chirp from the droid’s voice, relieved that she found some company out of the droid in this inorganic, cold room, she walked around to get a better feel of it now that the serum from the interrogation droid has worn off.
“Say, Haylee, do you know where we are?”
“We are aboard the command ship Anathema, the ship is within the Ulgoro system, and we are passing by the orbit of the planet Yelen.”
“How far are we from Tatooine?”
Haylee ran a quick scan from her processors, “We are approximately twenty-five parsecs away from the said Outer Rim planet.”
Irele breathed deeply, her heart sank, “That’s so far away…”
The droid’s photoreceptors picked up Irele’s increased heart rate and temperature. The girl was manifesting signs of anxiety: shivering hands, failing voice, and cold sweat.
“You are suffering from homesickness. Unfortunately, I do not have the appropriate medication for that, milady. Neither can I administer any medication for you. This is absolutely natural as you have been extracted from your real home to your current location.”
Irele took the deepest sigh and made a mantra.
Don’t lash out on the droid, you just screamed at it ten minutes ago.
She told this to herself mentally until she’s calmed herself down.
“Yeah, I am homesick. I left my family behind and…” she trailed off, realizing that the last people she was with were her friends. “My friends. They must be all worried sick about me.”
“You will be well taken care of here, Lady Irele.”
“Heh,” the girl huffed. “No need to be so formal. Just call me Irele.”
“As you wish… Mistress Irele.”
“Droids, gotta love ‘em…” she mumbled very quietly, knowing how acute droids’ hearing could be—depending on the model, that is.
Fortunately enough, Irele is indeed being taken care of.
Ever since she was moved to her own chambers in the Star Destroyer Anathema, she was thoroughly pampered—more or less—than anyone else in the ship, aside from Darth Vader. Never has she ever been well-fed in sixteen years! The serving portions were generous and they were quite tasty, but she had her moments where the food somewhat reminded her of home.
A uniformed officer enters Vader’s quarters to report of Irele’s adjustment to the new environment. Most of the officers feared that they’re speaking like a broken record, reporting the same thing to Vader every week—they had probably imagined it vexed him to be hearing the same thing over and over; it did them little comfort when adding their own personal observations of her such as asking for seconds with her food and interacting with the nanny droid, since she’s still shy and cautious from everyone else on board.Additionally, she was not yet allowed to wander off alone beyond her room. So, by all means, she is pretty much a hostage still—a rather pampered one, at the very least.
“Has she stopped her erratic behavior?”
“Fortunately so, Lord Vader, she has. Perhaps about a week and a half since her extraction, she had become somewhat… docile.”
Vader paused. He had presumed it was the effects of the interrogator droid’s syringe, but surely during the time the nanny droid was tending to the girl, the substance has flushed out since. Realizing that he truly knows nothing of what kind of person Irele is—compared from his earliest reference of her—he sighs with a quiet frustration under his mask.
“Very well. We are right on schedule. Carry on, captain.”
“Yes sir,” the captain bowed and dismissed himself militarily. His true posture showed when he rejoined his companion who had been waiting for him by the door. He hissed, “I didn’t conscript myself to the Imperial Fleet to be a babysitter!”
“Be more frustrated when Lord Vader does appoint you the official babysitter of the girl.”
“She’s quite a handful, don’t you think so?”
“Temperamental, to say the least,”
Only Vader and the droid, HY-L33, know what’s in store for Irele. Very soon, the plans for her life under the Empire’s wing—unknowingly under her brother’s care, or the walking shell of him perhaps—will be put into play.
For many weeks, HY-L33 patiently watched over Irele—especially in the medical aspect—and a mandate was programmed into her that once a diagnosis of the teenager would show optimum by the end of three weeks since her extraction from Tatooine, Irele would be considered physically eligible and be subjected to training. Eventually, HY-L33 was the only companion she has ever had in this ship since day one; so in exchange for medical knowledge and advice from HY-L33, Irele repays it with stories from her homeworld of Tatooine, but knowing that the droid is under Imperial property, she was cautious of what she ought to say, and rather told her adventures she had done on her own or with a friend instead of her family life.
“It seems as though your rigorous lifestyle has contributed to your increased stamina throughout your developmental stage.” HYL-33 commented once while listening to Irele recall one job she did where she would deliver goods door-to-door across the town of Mos Espa.
“Yeah well, I had to work. Because if I didn’t work, that just meant, I’ll be sleeping hungry—or if I’m lucky, with a half-full stomach.”
HY-L33, being the medical nanny droid that she is, went on to lecture Irele that it was ill-advised to sleep on an empty stomach for it will cause ulcers. The girl politely listened and heeded the advice, until she calmed down the droid that she had been fine for the rest of the time she was growing up.
She had only been staying for a week and a half. HY-L33’s sensors indicate a lesser trace of homesickness and anxiety within Irele, her body mass index has not changed drastically at all since her food intake was increased rather than imposing an eating strike—a few of HY-L33’s references cite that most human teenagers are more rebellious, especially when it comes to being fed after being thrown into a stressful situation. However, this was not the case with Irele, which made the nurse droid’s circuits cooler.
Eventually, the three weeks were over. Irele noticed HY-L33 seeming to be in full preparation. She did not mind this, but kept a close eye, until she could find the right timing to ask. After lunch, Irele went to the bath by rote, and quickly dressed herself in a dark gray shirt, black pants, and low boots.
Irele could truly sense something different in their routine.
“Haylee?”
“Yes, Miss Irele?”
“Is there something new added into the routine?”
“Yes, Miss Irele, we are about to perform a full health assessment on you. Please follow me and I will escort you to the medical ward.”
This was the first time Irele had been outside of her bedroom. For three weeks, she had been holed up in that metal room with no one and nothing else but HY-L33—to which she had grown fond of anyway—and then she finally comes out for a medical check-up.
Along the way, she could not look into the eyes of the crew, although she perfectly blended in with her gray and black clothes. She was nervous and afraid of what they’re thinking of her—because she felt like she knows what they’re saying about her, it’s a feeling that she can’t explain but it still manifests in her. Eager to avoid the stares and attention, Irele walked directly behind HY-L33 until they got to the said medical ward.
When they got there, the interior of the medical ward was a little bit brighter than most of the rooms in the ship. The walls were still metal, of course, but it was a cooler shade of gray which somewhat eased the people who are admitted and confined here—instead of the intimidating dark grays and blacks on other parts of the ship. At the center of operations was a 2-1B surgical droid stationed by a medical bed; it was approached by HY-L33 and Irele, when the droid’s photoreceptors saw the girl’s face, a deep male tone started speaking in a monotonous, continuous fashion.
“Irele Skywalker, human female, age is sixteen standard years, height stands at five feet and three inches…”
“Okay, okay, I think we got enough of my vitals already!” Irele interrupted.
“Were you briefed of your purpose here?”
Irele made a side-eyed glance at HY-L33, who didn’t move at all, “I was only told I was getting a check-up.”
“Correct.”
The surgical droid cleared out what HY-L33 failed to when they were still in the bedroom. It started with the physical examination—taking down her age, height, and weight, until it pored into analyzing the fluid levels and vitals of her organs to see if they were normal. It was all strange for little Irele, but she held up and did as she was told. She wasn’t getting hurt by the droids anyway, save the one pinprick that they had to do in order to conduct a blood test.
From Vader’s chamber, he was receiving real-time transmissions of the medical ward’s database. Whatever diagnosis the droids encode into the database under Irele’s profile, Vader saw it all firsthand—every revision, every new entry, every number.
Midichlorian count: 20,598.
Seeing this number and then recalling his impression on Irele baffled Darth Vader.
This child has lived sixteen years in a backwater planet, with a high midichlorian count… and yet her sensitivity is dormant.
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sky-bee42 · 3 years
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Fun fact: the only difference between ulcerative colitis and Crohn's disease is that UC only affects the colon and Crohn's can effect everything from your mouth to your ass, and UC is easily curable by simply removing the colon, but they try to refrain from doing that woth Crohn's because it can just come back and then you'd still be having issues and you'd just be down a colon. It's also sometimes difficult to give a concrete diagnosis of UC or Crohn's because of how similar they are, and there are blood tests they can run to look at the antibodies in your blood to determine whether its one way or the other, but even those can be inconclusive
Fortunately treatment for both disorders is the same, which there's 4 levels of - the lowest level is 5-ASAs, stuff like Aspirin - they're anti-inflammatory medications mostly for mild cases of Crohn's and UC; the next level is steroids like prednisone, which are more for short-term use and very rarely used for long-term maintainance (helping with lasting remission) since they can have some pretty nasty short- and long-term side effects; the next level is immunomodulators (i don't remember a lot about these ones), which is mostly for moderate cases, that basically suppress the immune system, since Crohn's and UC are autoimmune disorders, but they can take a couple months to begin working; the strongest form of UC and Crohn's medications is biologics like remicade and Humira, which are similar to immunomodulators (which can also be used in the production of biologics) except biologics are antobiotic therapies that neutralize certain proteins that cause inflammation, they start working within days, and they're for moderate to severe UC and Crohn's. In more severe cases, doctors might even prescribe both biologics and immunomodulators, since the two can boost the other's effects.
This is just what i remember of what my GI doctors in the hospital told me and my mom when they were getting ready to discharge me (i was in the hospital for 8 days and it got to a point where theyd pumped me full of medication and while i was still very sick, staying at the hospital no longer benefitted me so they just sent me home. They gave me my first 2 induction doses of remicade (an IV biologic) in the hospital (the standard timeline for remicade is week 0, week 2, week 6, but since i was so sick they did week 0, week 1, week 4) the induction doses also take an hour but the maintainance doses only take 30 minutes and theyre every 8 weeks
Writing this post i felt way smarter than i actually am just because of all of the knowledge ive aquired from my various GIs over the process of being diagnosed with IBD/trying to get a more concrete diagnosis of either crohn's or UC (which no ones been able to figure out)
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oddsnendsfanfics · 4 years
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Holding On for Dear Life
Genre: Fan Fiction (Vikings) Pairing: Hvitserk/OFC Warnings: Medical, Illness, Sexual Content Rating: M Length: Multi Chapter Disclaimer: a strict work of fiction, I own nothing except the original characters and the plot line. In no way am I affiliated to any of it.  
A/N: Okay, this is something that I have been wanting to write for a long time, but never got to it. It’s not exactly polished a I would like right now, but wanted to posted the first part to see how it went over. Keep in mind, I am doing my best to go about Emmer and her illness as correct as possible, but a good portion of her is actually personal. I mean sure I can bog us all down with medical by the book, but personally I like my own life experience better. 
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thank you @flowers-in-your-hayr for the header
Catch Up Here
Hospitals, yuck!
Hvitserk wasn't a fan, then again was anyone?
Ironic that they would be there on the anniversary of them meeting, in this very hospital. Waiting for his best friend – sometimes girlfriend, Hvitserk had sat quietly watching a news programme on mute with captions scrolling across the screen. After what felt like ages, Emmer emerged, slightly sore and exhausted asking Hvitserk if he could take her home.
Cozy in her apartment, Emmer yawned and insisted that Hvitserk was fine to leave her. She'd been through this before, it was nothing new. Bed rest, only fluids, and pain meds only when the label dictated. Although Hvitserk admired her trying to ship him off, he knew better. The last time he listened to Emmer, she had gone and ordered a large pizza and proceeded to eat half of it. Landing her back in the bathroom sicker than when she'd gone to the hospital.
This time, he refused to leave.
“Hvits, I'm fine.” Emmer rubbed her eyes, yawning from the cocktail of medications that she'd received at the hospital.
“Nope, you're not getting rid of me.” Hvitserk shook his head, fluffing the pillow on her couch. He had zero intentions of moving, besides he was too tired to drive again. It didn't matter that his apartment was only a block away.
Hands on her hips, head cocked, Emmer scowled. “I'm not Ivar.”
“Thank fuck for that,” Hvitserk smirked laying down on her couch and yawning.
His baby brother was a far worse patient than Emmer ever thought of being. Although their diseases were nothing alike, they'd both had their fair share of surgery and hospital visits. It was during one of Ivar's stay overs that Hvitserk had wandered the halls of the ward, bumping into the frail girl with the IV pole. Emmer had recovered, gained strength, and a Hvitserk all in a few short months.
“Hvits,” Emmer whined.
“Bed, Emmy. The doctor said you should be on bed rest until tomorrow. You know the drill. If you need me, I won't be far. But I need some sleep, first.” Closing his eyes, Hvitserk took a deep breath, snuggling into the blanket that he'd pulled down from the back of the couch.
Ignoring her would eventually work, growing bored of sitting in the kitchen alone, Emmer would go to bed. If this were under any other circumstance, Hvitserk would have gone to bed with her. Knowing that she'd been in so much pain a few short hours ago, he didn't want to crowd her. Giving her space to wrap her head around the night's events.
Emmer was unfazed and not at all bothered by what had happened, but spending hours in the ER with a blocked stoma took a lot out of a person. Ulcerative Colitis was a cruel mistress, not only causing severe abdominal pains and cramping, but leaving one swollen joints, ulcers in various places, and fatigue. One time Emmer had told Hvitserk on top of that, it was literally the shittiest disease ever. Pun and no pun intended. Tonight's trip had been courtesy of something causing a block in Emmer's small intestine. Unable to pass, sending blinding pain shooting through her abdomen.
She'd called Hvitserk around the third hour of vomiting, asking for him to come over and keep her company. Arriving to find Emmer in the bathroom on the floor soaked in sweat, complaining that she was dizzy Hvitserk grabbed her emergency bag and escorted her to the car.
“Damn peas,” Emmer mumbled leaning against Hvitserk on the way to the car. She'd known better than to eat them, but she couldn't resist. They were there in all their green glory taunting her.  
Home and somewhat comfortable in her bed, Emmer laid looking through her phone. Hvitserk on the other side of the door, stretched out and sleeping on the couch. Outside in the morning sun, the birds sang and the city slowly came to life. Oblivious to what some people were going through.
Each person lived their own life on their own path. Emmer had always believed that, even more so now. Her path had taken a turn, sick for months on end without reason or cause. Doctor's office after Doctor's office. Specialist after Specialist. Disease had nearly ruined her life. Easily, she could have allowed it, but why?
So she'd had some surgeries, a ruptured bowel, no large intestine, and had a bag on her side which was now her new bowel. It wasn't the end of the world and certainly wasn't the end of her life. Emmer enjoyed the freedom it had given her, now she was able to go places and not worry about whether or not she would be left in tears, over not being able to find a public restroom.
Meeting Hvitserk days after her first surgery had been another weird little blessing. He was quirky, sweet, and his own kind of funny. Not to mention he was a pretty good boyfriend. He was patient and gentle, even sticking around to be the supportive best friend when they weren't dating.
Rolling on her right side with a slight wince, Emmer rubbed her tummy above the spot where her bag resided.
“Really Eir?” She rolled her eyes at the grumbling stoma. “Now you're talking?”
Whatever. She shook her head, closing her eyes. Hvitserk would be in shortly, she was sure of it. His love for her plush bed would eventually take over, once he realized the couch was a tad to short.
Stretched out on the couch, his feet resting on the arm rest at the end, Hvitserk was surprisingly comfortable. Although he wished Emmer's couch was about seven inches longer. It was plush, comfortable, and like a cloud, until his ankles began to go numb. Curling his legs up, Hvitserk shifted over onto his side trying to stop his feet from tingling.  Picking his head up, when he heard the bedroom door open.
No matter how hard she tried, Emmer wasn't exactly stealthy. The bottom door hinge and the floor board right outside of her door gave her away. Hvitserk pushing himself to sit up, scratching the back of his head, he looked like he'd been the one in the ER all night, in pain.
“Hey Hvits,” Emmer raised her hands over her head, stretching her shoulders, then dropping them. “What's for breakfast?”
“Why are you out of bed?” Hvitserk scowled with concern.
“Because I'm not tired? The day awaits us, Hvits.”  She'd slept for three hours, it was almost 10AM. Time to be awake and out doing something.
“Your day is going to be spent in bed, binge watching cheesy sitcoms, while drinking tea, and eating broth.” Hvitserk smiled wide at her. “I'll even join you, once I clean up a bit.”
“You don't have to clean my apartment.” Emmer rolled her eyes at him. “I can do it.”
“I know, but I want to help. Besides, if I stay here it's an excuse not to go home. Ubbe had a new lady friend over, I should at least give her time to get out.” He shrugged. His older brother really needed to pick one of his rotating women and settle.
“He still on the rebound?” Emmer dropped onto the couch beside Hvitserk. Leaning over onto his shoulder, glancing up at him.
“Yep,” Hvitserk nodded. “Margrethe really fucked with his head. We have a talent for picking bat shit crazy women, you know. I think it's genetic or some shit.”
“Your mom isn't bat shit crazy.” Emmer countered. “She's just angry that your dad kept fucking around on her.”
“Understandable, although what did she expect? He did meet her, while he was married.” Rubbing his face, Hvitserk sighed. His family would never be up for any sort of Family of the Year awards.
“Your dad still seeing Yidu?”
“Nope, she grew some common sense and left.” Rolling his eyes, Hvitserk scoffed. “Did you know she's the same age as Bjorn?”
“I had a feeling she wasn't your dad's age.” Emmer shrugged. “Every family has their bullshit, what can I say?”
“There is family drama and then there is the Lothbroks. But, enough about my parents. How do you feel, now?” Leaning his head on top of Emmer's; Hvitserk nuzzled his nose into her hair. “And for the record, you're not bat shit crazy.”
“Thank you, I think.” Emmer laughed. “And I'm still a little sore, but feeling better. Really, I'm hungry. Can we eat?”
“Sure, but you're not getting anything solid.”
“Well, ice cream isn't solid. Oh! Let's go get ice cream.”
“Or, you can stay here, in bed while I go get some ice cream and bring it back. What kind do you want? Chocolate?” Hvitserk slowly lifted his head from Emmer's. “I can also bring back some coffee. Iced latte with almond milk and one shot of caramel syrup?”
“Yes! Yes that sounds amazing!”
“Alright, I will go get previsions. You stay in bed and rest. I shouldn't be long. Promise me, you won't try to do anything until I am back?”
“Well, I may shower.” Emmer shrugged, pretending to smell herself. “I stink like hospital, you know how much I hate that.”
“Fair enough, but nothing else. I will do the housework, when I get back. Okay, Em? I don't want you to get hurt or over strain yourself.”
Rolling her eyes, Emmer nodded. “Okay, fine, I will behave. Now go, I want my latte and ice cream.”
“Bossy Britches,” Hvitserk mumbled, grabbing his phone, keys, and wallet.
“Damn right I am!” Emmer called after him, gently tossing a pillow from the couch at his back.
Turning to blow her a kiss, Hvitserk laughed, closing the door behind him. A click indicated that he'd used his key to lock the door, saving Emmer from having to get up and walk twenty feet to the door. Hvitserk was always that way, making sure she was taken care of and he did anything to make her life easier.
Sometimes, it was annoying. Others, it was welcomed. Especially on days when Emmer had no energy. Some days she could barely make it out of bed, those were the days when Hvitserk's overbearing need to cater to her were welcomed the most. He was good at knowing when she needed him to take over, but not so good when knowing he had to back off.
Emmer adored him, but had no problems telling him when to lay off or go away.
In a family of six children, Hvitserk was number 4.
Since an early age, he had been the caretaker. Right after his older, half, sister Gyda. He was constantly taking care of his younger brother Sigurd while his mother focused on his baby brother, Ivar. Gyda kept her brothers from killing one another, while Hvitserk kept Sigurd from somehow killing himself. A task and a half to take on as a five year old. If they wanted Ivar to see his 10th birthday, it was a small price. Twenty years later...
Hvitserk had the ice cream in the car, thankful that the coffee shop wasn't overly busy. Along with their drinks he had gone ahead and ordered brown sugar oatmeal for Emmer and a bacon sandwich for himself. Food in hand, he tapped his foot lightly to the music that softly played through the shop. Lost in his thoughts and tiredness, he jumped when his phone rang.
“Hel-”
“Where are you?” Ivar huffed over the phone.
“I'm getting breakfast and heading back to Emmer's.” Hvitserk smiled his apology to the barista as he accepted the iced latte and the flat white. “Why?”
“You were supposed to drive me to that appointment, this morning. I tried calling you.” Ivar grumbled. Hvitserk didn't have to see Ivar's face to know it was twisted in a scowl. “I had to get an uber.”
“Sorry, fuck. Shit.” He hissed. “Ivar, look I'm sorry. Em had to go to the emergency room. She wasn't well and I had to stay with her.”
“So getting laid, because you played the hero, is more important than family?”
“No, Emmer had an emergency. Listen, I'm sorry. I am. Where are you now? I can come get you, before I go back to Em's.”
“Gyda came to get me. Unlike some people, she cares.”
“I care, Ivar.” Hvitserk defended himself. His younger brother was so dramatic. It came with being the baby. “Tell her I said hi.”
“Fuck you.”
Hvitserk sighed, the line went dead with a beep. Whatever. Ivar would get over it. Eventually.
It wasn't like Hvitserk intentionally forgot about his brother. Had Emmer not needed him, he would have drove Ivar as promised. Ivar was more than capable of getting places on his own, he simply refused.  Unlocking the car, Hvitserk groaned and shook his head. Ivar was petulant, but still his brother.
Whatever, he could worry about that later. Right now, Hvitserk had to deliver ice cream and an iced latte, before Emmer sent out a search party or put a bounty on his head.
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‘A Bloody Good Time’ July 12th, 2021 #abloodygoodtime © Outhouse Cartoons/C.A.P 2021
I’ve done it, I’ve been on one of the scariest medical adventures of my life to date. I’ve now sat in an ER watching bags of blood being transfused into my body after hitting a scary low red blood cell level due to chronic bleeding issues that snowballed over the last couple of months. Things were a mixed bag at first. Doctors worried the Entyvio wasn't working and instead could be causing my severe bleeding.
Let’s take a step back.
A few months ago, my Entyvio was adjusted from every eight weeks to every four weeks, which was around the same time my temporary GI had switched my standing blood work order from every month to every two months. Shortly after these changes, I started to see blood in my stool.
At first I didn’t think too much of it. A lot of us living with IBD have experienced blood in our stools. It’s not unheard of. A weekend went by, though, where it was just non stop. Everytime I went to the washroom, I would lose a fair amount of blood. Sometimes It would just be blood.
My initial reaction was that it was something I’d eaten. I thought about it, realizing my intake of beef had gone up that week and usually that would cause some issues for me. That had to be it. So I cut back on my beef.
Another week of constant bleeding went by without letting up. I was starting to feel it now. I was getting a bit scared. I reached out to friends and family and someone mentioned that, ‘women lose blood every month so [I] should be fine,’ so I let it slide again.
A few more weeks passed, no changes, I was really starting to feel it now and my blood work was finally in. I could show them what was going on. I had proof. The results show my hemoglobin sitting at 80 points and the rest of my profile being completely out of whack. This should light a fire, and I’d be the one to start it. '
I called the GI office asking for iron (this is all I knew to ask for at the time), stating what I was going through and how I felt. At this point I could barely stand and or walk. My heart felt like it wanted to race out of my chest. I was getting really scared now. I’ve never felt this bad throughout everything I’ve gone through. This was getting to be too much.
This is when they set up an emergency scope. Another week passed before scope day arrived. It was determined that my guts were pretty clean. They mentioned hemorrhoids but an ER doctor clarified that they were only level one which causes minimal issues. This proved a point that I had been trying to make previously, that my health was better than ever, where my Crohn's was considered. This was new. Is new. '
However at that exact moment I wasn’t feeling that great. I was also supposed to receive iron and/or a blood transfusion that day but it never ended up happening. This was a Friday and we all know what would happen over the next couple of days. Absolutely nothing. I knew the numbers everyone was working with were old. Too old. They didn’t have all the current facts nor did they understand how bad I felt.
I tried calling and leaving a message for the doctor just the same. Maybe I could make it to Monday and they could just get me into the IV lab real fast. Well, I barely made it to Monday but thankfully they got back to me first thing in the morning informing me that to get in for IV therapy would take over a week and that I should go to the ER if I believed I needed it sooner. That was an understatement, so we immediately started packing, getting me ready for the ER.
Once we arrived we managed to get through triage pretty quick. I told them what was going on and the moment I noticed a brow begin to furrow I reached into my bag, producing the blood work results from two weeks prior. The moment they saw the numbers things got moving.
Going back through my medical records, I’ve noticed that I’ve never really been in the normal hemoglobin levels but I rarely was under 100 points. When they did my blood work in the ER I was sitting at a cool 40, a number they claimed they hadn’t seen in some time.
Hey, at least I’m shaking things up. Going on new adventures. Like how when they moved me to the trauma ward to give me my IV. Something that normally goes pretty smoothly for me. I have big juicy veins, although they do roll, but as long as I bring this up, it’s usually accounted for. Not this time. No.
First of all, this was the most painful of any IV I’ve ever had, and it started when they accidentally blew a vein in my forearm, causing blood to squirt all over my leg and the floor, they then moved to my hand to put two more in. The pain was almost more than I could take, I wasn’t ready for this when I came in but at least the job was done and they were placed. I thanked my nurse as I always do and I was moved to another section.
I was still pretty chill at this point even though things weren’t the best. I knew why I was there and what I wanted, but there was one thing I wasn’t ready for. A new nurse came in to tell me what was on the docket. I was lined up for a blood transfusion. Three bags worth, but I was going to be admitted and the procedure states that you need to be COVID swabbed. My heart dropped, my smile disappeared and my heart which had slowed a touch since arriving began to pump faster. I had never had a COVID swab. I’ve kept home away from everyone and everything and always wear my mask while I’m out.
Now my thoughts were racing due to the things I had heard or read about in the past regarding people's experiences swabbing. I was so thankful for the fact that I had a very kind and patient nurse who talked me through the entire thing and after everything I had gone through getting the IVs in my arm, it was a piece of cake. It didn’t feel great, that’s for sure. But it was nowhere near as bad as I thought and not even on the same level as what I had gone through with the IVs. Teaching me that my years of experiences have helped me to build a thicker skin. Something younger me wouldn’t have been able to comprehend.
The rest of the night was fairly uneventful. They gave me my first bag of blood, during which the ER doc came to talk to me. They basically wanted a GI doctor to go over everything with me, but they were good after I told them that my Crohn’s was doing pretty good and that I had all of that under control with my GI/GP and that it was my GI’s office that had instructed me to come in for the transfusion.
Shortly after my first bag of blood, I was moved into my own private room in another section of the ER where I received another two bags of blood. I’d end up spending another 8 hours through the night watching my tablet, unable to get any kind of sleep due to the warm temperature of the room. Once the morning shift nurse arrived, I was up, showing how much better I was feeling, ready to go home but it’d be another hour before they’d make it to my room.
Luckily the ER doctor fully agreed with my self-diagnosis, releasing me to be picked up and taken home. We made sure to hit up my favourite diner on the way home, filling me up with a good breakfast after a long night.
The moment I got home I called up my GI office requesting to get the new monocyte iron infusion I was promised the week before as well as to have them revert my standing order back to every month as I was not comfortable with it staying at every two. I was put on Entocort to try and heal some ulcers and it seems that for now it has mostly stopped the bleeding. I’m not entirely convinced that we’ve solved the problem, but for now we’ve put a very good bandaid on it.
Have you ever had serious issues with your hemoglobin before? How’d you and your medical team navigate it? Tell us in the comments below.
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thorne93 · 4 years
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Inside the Criminal Mind (Part 34)
Prompt: You’re married to Dr. Spencer Reid of the BAU, and are a distinguished doctor yourself on the team. You’re sent down to Miami, Florida for teaching and as a side request from the FBI, to investigate a string of missing persons. When you think you’ve figured out who the unsub is, your life becomes more complicated than you ever could’ve imagined.
Word Count: 3056
Warnings: (throughout the fic –>) death, blood, gore, killings, language, disturbing mental notions, mentions of rapes/murder/etc (You know, Dexter and Criminal Minds related business)
Notes: Thank you so much to @arrow-guy​​​​​​, @carryonmyswansong​​​​​​, and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​​​​​​ - without each of you, I couldn’t have finished, written, or properly navigated this story. Each of you helped me fish out details that were incredibly important to me. Beta’d by @carryonmyswansong​​​​​​ and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​​​​​​… Aesthetic by @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​​​​​​
This is a crossover of Criminal Minds x Dexter. First time writing Dexter.
Also, the timeline is after Season 1 of Dexter, but during season 14-ish of Criminal minds into Season 15. Enjoy!!!
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The manhunt was still on, and it was hard to pretend like you didn’t know where Doakes was. Dexter informed everyone of the analysis he’d performed, confirming that 18 of the 46 slides where Bay Harbor victims, and 12 were in the criminal database. Forensics was under orders to be ready for any evidence that would be streaming in from Doakes’s apartment. 
Dexter convinced the BAU to pull his protective detail, and at the end of the day, you three grabbed some food and went to Dexter’s apartment to discuss options. 
“So, what did you two decide?” Dexter asked as he sat down. 
“We decided to leave it up to you two,” Spencer politely informed. He wasn’t anything like what he had been before around Dex, or you even. 
“Us? Okay, so… Y/N, what do you want to do?”
“I… I want it to be your decision. I’m not comfortable with us killing Doakes, but I also don’t think I could happily live with him being out there accusing us of killing all the time.”
“I was thinking about it on the way over,” Dexter started, putting his fork down. “And I could either turn myself in--”
You started to protest, but he held up his hand. 
“Or, we could pin it on him.”
“That’s putting an innocent man away,” you challenged lightly. 
“Innocent of these crimes, yes, but Doakes has done some shady shit and he’s killed a lot of people he didn’t have to. When you think about it, who actually contributes more to society? Who has more inherent worth? I have Rita, the kids, Deb. People depend on me, people who need me. I have friends and family. They’d be devastated if anything happened to me, if they knew the truth. Doakes doesn’t have anyone he’s close to. Maybe LaGuerta but even that isn’t a lot of weight. He’s not a horrible cop, he does his job. I do mine. We both keep criminals off the streets.”
You and Spencer gave each other an uneasy look.
“I know it’s not ideal, but he isn’t exactly innocent. I know he’s killed before when he had no reason to. He has a family he never visits, in fact, he hates visiting them. Debra told me about the one time he went to visit them. His mother had asked and asked, and he finally gave in, but she was supposed to help him leave sooner rather than later. But because it’s Deb, they stayed.”
“I don’t like it, but it’s the best option we’ve got,” you agreed. “There are less innocent people to do this to and if we’re going to do it to anyone, Doakes is easier to do it to.” 
Spencer simply shrugged and nodded. “Whatever you two think is best.”
“You’ve steered me right this whole time, Dex, I’ll follow whatever your lead is.” 
So the plan set in motion. He began to go down the list of things he was going to do and needed to get done. He informed you of everything he planned on doing before telling you something that threw you off. 
“I’m going to lie to Doakes. I’m going to tell him that I threatened you and Spencer. I’m going to tell him that you found me, but you were unarmed at the time and I vowed to come after your family, and that’s why you didn’t say anything at the cabin. I made you bandage me up.”
“What? Why?” you asked quickly, panic coursing through you. “Dexter, what are you thinking of doing?”
“Nothing drastic, but in case he gets out, I don’t want him coming after you two. I’ll say it was all me. He hates me, and he’ll be fine to accept that I’m the only killer. Besides, he knows the murders have been going on long before you ever came down to Miami. Secondly…” He took a breath, weighing if he was really about to tell you this next thing. “I’m not going to tell you anything any more. Our deal is off, here and now. Whatever happens with Doakes, whatever I do or don’t do, I don’t want either of you aware of anything I’m doing. Plausible deniability.”
“But we already know you have Doakes hostage,” Spencer retorted, confused. 
“Do you?” Dexter challenged. “I use sedatives all the time, they can make your memory go very fuzzy. Look, it’s better this way. I can’t keep dragging you two down into this. You’ve been more than helpful, but now it’s my fault I even have a hostage. So I’m going to clear your names and then from here on out, I’m on my own.”
“Dex, no. Come on, we want to help.” 
He shook his head. “I appreciate that. I know you do, but this is on me. We’ve protected you, and that’s what we needed to do. Now, it’s on me. But I can see this makes you two uncomfortable and I’m not going to ask you to do that. I was stupid once by not including you on my decisions, but that’s when it affected all of us. I’ll be sure none of this gets back to either of you and whatever happens, it happens to me and me only, got it?” He stared the two of you down until you nodded.
“I understand,” you quietly responded. “I don’t like this, at all.”
“You’ll like it a lot more than having to go along with whatever my plans are for Doakes,” he retorted. 
“I’ll worry,” you gently said. 
“I know, but don’t. I’ll be fine.” 
“Thank you,” Spencer said with a loaded tone. 
Dexter nodded, and after that nothing more was said on the matter. It was as if Dexter had no idea where Doakes was. He turned on the TV and talk quickly changed to lighter affairs and stayed that way. 
----------------------
In fact, things stayed that way so well, that you almost did forget Dexter had him locked in a cabin. Dexter stopped you from talking about the case at all to him. He insisted every conversation with him be as if you had no idea what he was doing or capable of. He often turned discussion to things like movies, sports, the weather. Things normal people talked about. 
The next twenty four hours were hard on you. You could barely sleep. You kept your phone practically sewn to your hand. Your stomach lurched every time you saw Dexter leave the station. Was he going to set Doakes free? Was he going to kill him? Was he going to frame him? Every option was worse than the one before it. 
In the end though, you knew not knowing was hard, but nowhere near as difficult as knowing what he would do. 
At one point, Dexter did confide in you that he found out his father killed himself, not that he died of heart failure. You consoled him on this and he said he felt better. It was nice to feel like you were still close, even if there was now a wall there. 
Spencer could tell you were on edge, so he took you out to eat, just the two of you. It was the first time you had been alone, really alone since you even got down to Miami. And when you were alone, you were fighting, but not now. 
“I know this is hard,” he started, reaching across the table and holding your hand, “but it’s for the best.”
You nodded. “I know. I just don’t want him to do this alone or go through it alone.
“He’s not. He knows you’re there for him, every step of the way. He knows he can reach out to you at any second.” 
Again, you nodded again. “What if he does something stupid?” 
“Then that’s on him,” he reminded with a half smile. “He’s smart. We trust him, right?”
You nodded. 
“Then let’s trust him.” 
“Okay,” you said, breathing out. “That’s all I can do. I can’t get an ulcer over this.” 
“Exactly. I love you.” 
“I love you too,” you beamed at him, trying to recall the last time he’d said that to you. 
--------------------------------------
The next day, a bag of weapons and tools were found, with his fingerprints all over them. You fought the urge to look at Dexter. You even started to think about what you’d say to him after this, but you remembered that he didn’t want it. He’d shut it down if you did try to talk about it. 
So this was the path he chose… 
He was going to frame Doakes. 
You weren’t thrilled about it, but it kept him safe and you, and a man didn’t have to die for it. 
It was hard to be his friend and not talk about what was going on, so you didn’t actively seek him out for conversations, but you didn’t avoid him either. During one of his breaks he informed you of the mess Lila had gotten Batista in, and just as he was explaining it, two officers came to arrest Batista on the charges. 
“Do you want me to help with this?” you asked, begging in your voice. 
“My mess, remember? I’ll take care of it.” 
“Right,” you said with a sigh, trying not to make any remarks about how so far he wasn’t doing a real bang up job. 
“I think my father killed himself because of me, by the way,” he quietly said. “He had seen what he turned me into. The first time he saw me kill someone, he threw up and told me to stay away. It was three days later he died. He overdosed on his medication.” 
You pulled him into a hug without thinking. “I’m so sorry.” You rubbed his back soothingly. “You can’t take that personally though. He knew what he was doing.” 
A phone call interrupted you two. He said it was Rita with a broken down car and he had to get to her. You let him go so he could go to her and you watched him leave. Still worried as ever about him. 
----------------------------
That night, while you and Spencer were at your hotel when you got a text from Dexter requesting your presence at his apartment. He said it was urgent.
You two hauled ass over to his place where he greeted you with a nice meal. Steaks, onions and roasted potatoes, peas, cold drinks, and a cake. 
“What’s with the banquet?” you asked. You’d seen Dexter happy, but never quite this… carefree. 
“I want to celebrate. Grab a plate and some food and I’ll explain.” 
You two did as you were told and you sat down on his couch. 
“I’ve been doing some thinking. Today, when Batista got arrested for Lila, and LaGuerta spinning in circles trying to prove Doakes’s innocence, and your team getting the pressure put on you from DC… well I realized that maybe this is what evil looks like. It ruins everything it touches. My decisions have wreaked havoc on lives for over two months now. After I saw Rita, I realized, I’m being selfish. I was just trying to say it was better to frame Doakes, but in the long run, it’ll be easier for everyone if I just turn myself in.” 
You dropped your fork, the sound loud as it shattered any happy illusions you had. 
“Turn...yourself in? Dex, you can’t. No, I won’t let you,” you adamantly replied. “We’ve worked so hard to keep you in the clear! It’s not just your victims out there.” 
“Your handful don’t even come close to the number I’ve accumulated, Y/N,” he calmly retorted. “I’ll happily take them. Look, it’s better I go in calmly now, on my own terms, than to be dragged in like a wild animal. You and I both know one day it will come to that. Between Lila, Doakes, LaGuerta, Batista… I’m going to wind up here again, and I may not have your help to get through it, so I need to do it now. I’ve already talked about taking the kids out for a day with Rita tomorrow. I’m going to get my lawyer to draw up some papers so Deb can take over my accounts. Then I’ll let Doakes go and confess.” 
“But… why?”
“Because it feels right. I’ve felt nothing but relief since I decided to do this. I hope as my friend you can respect that decision.”
Tears began to well in your eyes as you stared at the closest friend you’d ever had. “Of course I can respect that. I just can’t… I don’t think I could stand watching you get hauled off in handcuffs, never seeing you except through a thick plane of plastic…” The sobs overtook you as Spencer tried to console you, holding you close. 
Spencer chimed in and said, “I think it’s a noble decision, Dexter. For what it’s worth, I’m proud of the decision you’ve made.” 
“I appreciate that. As for you, Y/N… You’re the most special person in my life. I’m closer to you than anyone I’ve ever known, including my father. You’ve looked behind the mask and you didn’t run away and you didn’t turn me in. You became a close  confidant. I’d like to repay you for all that.” 
You frowned as he stood to grab something and came back. 
“Several months ago, you came down with nothing more than spare time and some case files and within weeks, you had me pinned for the real killer.” He handed you a packet of papers. 
You glanced at the title and it read: Dexter Morgan’s Confession to the Murder of the Bay Harbor Butcher Victims. 
Your eyes immediately glanced back up to his eyes. 
“I don’t underst--”
“Regardless of what happened after you found me, you did find me. Just you. You didn’t even use your technical analyst. Your entire team took two months to hone in on the wrong guy. I want you to get the credit for finding me. When I go in to confess, I’ll tell them that you caught me and convinced me to turn myself in. I want to be sure you get the cret for that.” 
You shook your head violently, tears streaming down your face. “No, Dex, I couldn’t. That feels so wrong.” 
“But it’s the truth, mostly. You did find me, and for better or worse, I am confessing to my crimes. It’s the best I can do to repay everything you’ve done for me, so please, let me do it.”
All you could do was nod before getting up to go hug him. He hugged you back and felt for the first time since he could remember, sorrow.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do without you,” you admitted through heavy tears. 
“You’re gonna be fine,” he assured in that soft way he had. “You convinced a serial killer to give you lessons. I have no doubt you’ll be just fine without me.” he laughed and smiled and you couldn’t help but do the same.
“I don’t want to lose you though.” 
“You won’t. There will always be visiting hours,” he reminded. 
You swatted his arm. “That’s not fucking funny, jackass.” 
He couldn’t help but chuckle. “Okay, but as one of my last free nights instead of talking about me not being free, could you two stay here? I’ve never really slept soundly in my life and I think I’d sleep a lot better tonight with you two here.”
“Anything,” you promised quickly. 
He said thank you and you all finished your dinner, trying not to think about the inevitable. Talk flowed freely and actually Spencer and Dexter monopolized a lot of the conversation now that they weren’t at each other's throats. They actually had a lot in common and it made your heart warm. Eventually, Spencer started to fall asleep on the couch but you were still wide awake, so you made your way back to Dexter’s room where he was laying on top of the blankets, a few candles lit in his room. 
“What’s with the candles?” you mused with a bit of a hum as you sauntered over and laid next to him. The two of you were on your sides, facing each other. 
“Rita got them for me, I might as well use them.” 
You laughed for a second before your eyes settled on his, and his gaze settled on you. The two of you stared at each other for a moment before you spoke again.
“Are you scared?” you whispered. 
“Not really. I feel less pressure with each step I take. In an odd way, I feel free. I won’t have to hide any more.” 
You nodded. “That’s good. I’m glad. You should feel good, and free, and happy. You deserve it.” 
“You’re probably the only one who thinks so.” 
You shook your head, quietly rebutting him. “No, I don’t think so. Debra and Rita and everyone at the station will still remember all the very wonderful and good things you did for them. I know I will. I’ll remember you consoling me when Spence got kidnapped. Or keeping me level headed when JJ pissed me off. You’re the greatest friend I’ll ever know or have. It’s not just you who didn’t get turned away when your darkness was exposed. You could’ve turned me away too, and you didn’t.” 
“I guess I saw something in you I’d never seen. You’re not dangerous and risky like Lila, but you’re not black and white like Rita and Deb. You understand that life is a series of gray encounters.” 
Your lips perked up at the corners. 
“If it’s worth anything at all, my life is better because you’re in it.” 
“Back at ya,” he quietly said. 
The two of you spent the rest of the night talking, until early in the morning. Spencer found you on Dexter’s bed, the two of you still facing each other, lying above the blankets, sound asleep. He smiled sadly at the scene before him before waking you so that you two could go home and change. Dexter needed time to get his things in order, and you two had to keep up appearances.
With a final look at your sleeping best friend, you nodded at him, and closed his apartment door.
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hallowedmuses · 4 years
Text
Discord Chat: The Scarlet Inquisition
SUMMARY: Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanoff are tasked with bring Hydra mole Scarlet Young in for questioning when they are met with an ambush. Things get a little hairy as the pair attempt to maneuver themselves and the mole out of harms way. TRIGGERS: HYDRA, Blood, Gore, Violence WRITTEN WITH: @captsteve​, @littleredscarlethood
NATASHA: She stepped out of the jeep and surveyed the area, nodding to Steve that it was all clear. "Just like old times, huh?" she replied as she made her way over to the apartment complex, punching in a door code Daisy had given them to unlock it. "I imagine we won't need to much fire power for this one," she replied as she held the door open for him. "So, who do you want to be tonight? Good cop or disappointed dad?" she teased.
Steve got out of the jeep, grabbing his shield, glad that he brought it with him so he wasn't walking into a possible HYDRA ambush unarmed. "Oh yeah, I totally missed having to deal with Nazi spies. If only Sam was here, then we could find someone to kick off a building." he let out a chuckle as he shut the door, his blue eyes scanning the street before walking into the building. "Clint seemed to find this quickly so hopefully we're getting to the kid first." Steve looked around the lobby before moving towards the stairs "Hmmm, why not both? I can be a disappointed cop."
In her apartment, her home, really, SCARLET was celebrating. this was a good day. no more lies, no more nothing. just her and daisy and a nice life forever. she'd tell daisy, of course. and while part of her wanted to just get it out of the way... she wanted one happy day. then she'd tell. she'd promised that to herself. she'd turned on happy cheery music and she'd decided she was going to follow a recipe to make waffles from scratch. they had an iron in ONE of their drawers. it had taken her a bit to locate it, and even longer to figure out the measuring cups. but she was getting there, and now she was whisking all the ingredients together, getting ready to pour it into the bowl. all this to say, she was blissfully unaware of the people coming upstairs with a big cloud to rain on her parade.
NATASHA: She smirked, giving him a sideways look. "I mean, we can still kick someone off a building if you're feeling nostalgic. I won't tell if you don't tell," she teased as she entered the building behind him. The lobby was empty which was good. Less collateral damage this this were to turn into a fight. "Disappointed cop, huh?" she grinned as she followed him up the stairs. "If it's anything like those detention videos, then I gotta say I'm in for a treat," she teased, unlatching her gun from its holster as they reached Daisy's apartment. She heard music coming from the kitchen and nodded to Steve. "She's here."
Steve rolled his eyes "That's more your style than mine." he chuckled. From what he could see there wasn't anyone in the stair well, if they moved quickly they could be in and out before anyone else found them. He let out a small groan "Don't even mention those videos, I only filmed one of those and I have no clue where the rest came from. I talked to Tony about it before the accords and he wouldn't look into it because they were so funny." The blonde put his ear to the door listening to the noise from inside, apart from the music he could make out one heartbeat "I only hear one person inside... how do you want to do this?"
NATASHA: "Hmm, it could be your style if you just expand your horizons a little. Come on, don't tell me this whole thing isn't making you miss being a full time agent," she nudged. A small smile crossed her lips as he mentioned he'd only filmed one video and he didn't understand where the others came from. "Sounds like a certain someone was having a little mischievous fun with your form. Either that or you've got a life model decoy laying around somewhere and Tony doesn't want you to find it." She nodded when he said he only heard one heartbeat. "Good. Let's hope its our girl. Daisy wanted this lowkey, so there's no need to come in guns blazing. Besides, it's not fun having to replace a door. We'll keep it friendly unless we start taking fire." She didn't need her name attached to any child's death unless she was absolutely certain which side the kid was on. She pulled out the key Daisy had given them and quietly unlocked the door. "Cover my six, yeah?" she requested, tucking her gun into the back of her jeans for easy reach if she needed it. She was glad Steve had brought the shield with him. It provided good cover if they started taking unexpected gunfire. Natasha pushed open the door to the apartment and stepped over the threshold. "Scarlet Young?" she called out as she made her way into the apartment. She spotted the girl in the kitchen. "Hello, Scarlet, it's good to see you again," she smiled politely, holding up her SHIELD badge. "We've got a few questions we need to ask you. I'm going to need you to come with us."
Steve: "Oh, I can see the headlines now. Captain America kicks suspect off 30-story-building let's just give the legal team an ulcer huh?" he chuckled, arms crossing over his chest. The videos were a nightmare for Steve, he signed on for a fitness test video and now there were all sorts of videos for nearly every scenario... he figured it was either some new-fangled technology or a look-a-like. "I wouldn't put it past SHIELD, they did have a whole secret medical facility designed to bring us back to life in the event of one of our deaths... who's to say they don't have LMDs of us." the blonde chuckled "Don't I always?" he moved into the apartment after giving one last look down the hallway. He shut the door and moved towards the windows, peeking down at the traffic on the street clocking a couple of SUVs pulling up. Steve pulled his shield off his back, sliding his arm into the straps as he moved back to the kitchen "We need to move." he gave the girl a smile before whispering to Nat about the two SUVs.
SCARLET: "Miss Daisy!" she called, happily, as the door opened. her back was turned away from the door, so she assumed that was who it was. when she heard two sets of feet, and natasha's voice... she froze. "natasha?" the first thought that came through her head was that Daisy was gone again. that was the reason she'd been let go today. because Daisy was dead and they'd gotten her and she'd helped and... no. no. NO. "is my mom okay?" she asked, turning to look at Natasha. that was the only thing she cared about, until she saw the gun out and the badge and she asked about questions and... what was going on? "where's Daisy?" she put down the whisk and the bowl. what was happening? and where was Daisy? she offered Steve a scared smile, remembering how he'd sat with her the last time Daisy had gone missing. she could tell she was going to need some reassurance for... whatever was making them all buisnesslike right now. "why are you looking at me like that?" they couldn't know, could they?
NATASHA: "Ah, what doesn't give them an ulcer? I walk into a board room and they panic," she chuckled. "Like I got time to kill everything that inconveniences me. We can only hope SHIELD's learned from past mistakes. I trust Daisy at the helm. I wouldn't have come back if I didn't. Let's hope we can keep her there. I don't think I'd stick around if there was another directorial shift." She knew if any information leaked, it wouldn't look good for Daisy, so she approached Scarlet with caution. "Daisy is fine," she reassured the girl. "She's back at headquarters. She's requested we take you in, you're not safe here." She listened as Steve leaned in, whispering about two SUVs that had pulled up outside. Natasha nodded, glancing toward the window where she could see several men in military grade gear filing out of the SUVs. "So much for doing this quietly," she sighed, grabbing her gun from the back of her jeans. She did a cursory survey of the roof tops. There. She spotted black among the gray: a sniper. Natasha was quick to react, dropping low to the ground and swinging her feet to kick Scarlet down just as a bullet shot through the window. It lodged itself into a cabinet right where Scarlet's head had been only moments before. Natasha grabbed Scarlet firmly, pulling the girl to her feet, and pushing her toward Steve. "Get the kid to the car, I'll cover fire and meet you down there."
Steve: "Well the last time you got in front of a bunch of big wigs you basically told them to shove it up their asses and then walked out so I'm not surprised." deep down, the blonde felt bad for the people that had to clean up him and the other Avengers, but in their line of work there was bound to be collateral damage. Steve nodded her her statement, keeping an ear out for people coming into the building. Seeing Nat drop he followed, crouching by the door. The blonde slipped a comms unit into his ear before tossing one at Nat and grabbing the girl's arm "FRIDAY, I'm gonna need an alternate route out of here." He turned his blue eyes to the girl "I need you to stay low and do exactly as I say, ok? No questions."
SCARLET nodded, letting out a breath when she knew Daisy was safe. her releif was short lived, however, when natasha moved her legs out from under her so fast she could hardly blink. she was on the floor, her batter and her whisk splattered across the floor with a loud crash. she didn't have time to mourn it, though. or to really register the bullet that was... right where she'd been. were they shooting at her? no time to process, though, because she was suddenly being pulled to her feet by natasha and shoved at steve. she grabbed his arms for stability. she. was. terrified. luckily enough, the adrenaline in her veins provided some sort of focus enough to ignore the likely bruising where she'd hit the floor and nod. for a moment she was back in HYDRA's base at nine years old. her parents were holding her, leading her. we need to run. you need to hide. steve wasn't telling her to hide, but it was the same deal. stay low, stay with him. good. if he wasn't planning on leaving her alone, he wouldn't die the way her parents had. "ready." she said, a sincere focus in her eyes. they were gonna go and they were going to get out alive this time.
NATASHA: She nodded a thank you to Steve as he tossed her the coms set. “FRIDAY, what are we working with here?” she asked, slipping on the coms and taking cover behind the granite kitchen counter.             “Looks like you two brought the party. You’ve met the sniper on the roof. You’ve also got three coming through the front, two through the back, and two coming up the fire escape,” responded FRIDAY.              “Lovely,” she sighed, taking the safety off of her gun and carefully making her way toward the fire escape, she kept low to the ground, making sure to stay out of sight of the window in case the sniper decided to strike again. She turned to look at Steve and Scarlet who were looking for an alternate way out of the building. “The fire escape is our best bet. I can take down the two coming up the ladder. The sniper will be a continuous problem, so watch your heads when you get out there.”              Natasha heard the boots coming up the fire escape. She waited a breath before firing a round, it hit first man in the shoulder and sent him tumbling down the fire escape. The second man began firing into Daisy’s apartment. Natasha ducked, waiting until the man had to reload his gun before firing her next shot. It hit him in the leg causing him to lose balance and tumble backward as well. The fire escape was now clear, save for the sniper on the roof. Natasha heard heavy boots coming up the stairs of the apartment. The others were closing in.         “Hate to break it to you, boss, but another unit’s just arrived. You may want to move this party along,” FRIDAY warned.              “Looks like I might get to kick someone out the window at least,” she grinned as she looked at Steve. “Go before they send more assholes up this way. I’ll hold the off the ones coming up the stairwell. Watch your head,” she warned, moving away from the fire escape and making her way toward the door to hold back the others.
Steve: The blonde gripped the girl's shoulder and moved them towards the window, keeping to the wall and out of the line of fire. Steve leaned against the wall, tightening the straps of his shield as he listened to to FRIDAY and Nat. He wished that the building had an underground garage, it'd give them more cover then the fire escape and let them change vehicles, but this wasn't a perfect world and they had to work with what they had to work with. "My deepest apologies Nat, next time we'll plan for the bad guys to be on the roof so you can kick them off it." Steve chuckled before turning to the girl "I'm going out the window first, you stay out of sight until I make sure it's clear then you come out after me. Stay against the building as we move, remember, keep low." He didn't wait for an answer before hopping out of the window.                  Just as he was about to give Scarlet the all clear to get on the fire escape FRIDAY popped into his ear "Police are en-route to your location boss, about five minutes out." he let out a sigh "Shit, alright, come on kid we need to move." Steve moved so he was physically blocking the view of the window with his body.
SCARLET: they were talking about kicking people out of windows, there were shots being fired. it was all highly surreal and about a third of scarlet was sure this was a dream. it didn't feel real. but usually her dreams were quieter, more nonsensical. she didn't know what to make of anything other than she needed to stay alive. and she liked Steve and Natasha. they'd help her do that. and then Steve jumped out a window. there was a fire escape there, and she knew it, but it did scare her for half a second. or maybe it was just another jolt of terror at this whole situation. still, she tried to focus. stay down, stay close, don't get shot. she began muttering the words in german to herself, trying to focus on something as she followed steve to... wherever he was going. stay down, stay close, don't get shot
NATASHA: “That better be a promise, Rogers,” she grinned as she reloaded her gun. “Bring the car around for me. I’ll see you in a minute,” she promised as she watched Steve and Scarlet disappear down the fire escape. Natasha turned to look at the door as she heard armored bodies slamming up against it, attempting to open it. “Hey, FRIDAY,” the assassin grinned, “How about some tunes?”        “You got it, Boss,” FRIDAY replied as she took over the blue tooth speakers in the apartment. Dojo Cat’s Boss Bitch began playing just as the first goon breached through the door. “God Bless Tony Stark,” Natasha grinned and ran full steam ahead, jumping off the ground, and wrapping her legs around the first man’s neck in a thigh grip. She activated the spider bites on her gauntlet and brought them down upon the man’s neck, electrocuting him and causing him to go down.        Natasha pushed herself up off the ground as the second goon came at her. He made to grab her, but she ducked and spun out of the way. He whipped around to face her, but it was all too late for him. Natasha buried the heel of her foot in the man’s chest, kicking him hard and causing him to tumble out the open window. “Looks like I do get to kick someone out of the building at least.”         The third goon attempted to come at her from behind, but she dropped to the ground and kicked low, knocking him off his feet. As he went stumbling back, his head slammed against the kitchen counter knocking him out cold.        The last two goons began firing without discrimination into the apartment. Natasha ducked behind the kitchen island as a hail of bullets swept the place. “Ah, Boss...” the AI warned.        “It’s fine, FRIDAY,” Natasha replied as she pulled out two taser disks from her gauntlet. “I just need them to get a little--” Natasha sung around the kitchen island, activated the taser disks, and threw them at each of the goons. The disks hit both square in the chest, electrocuting them and causing them to drop their weapons. She shot both of them in the leg causing them to go down. “Is that it, FRIDAY?”       “Did you want more?” the AI asked incredulously. “I think that was enough for today. Police are on their way, it’s time to clear the station.”        “You got it, what’s the fastest route to Steve and Scarlet?”
Steve: "Don't be late." he gave Nat a grin before turning his attention back to the girl. Once she was out onto the fire escape he used his shield to block her from view, guiding her down towards the street. Steve moved as quickly as possible, keeping her hidden from the sniper. In the distance he could hear the police sirens nearing, causing him to pick up their pace. When they reached the bottom, Steve pushed the girl up against the building behind some cover "Wait here." he ordered before dropping down and hitting the goon from behind with his shield, glint of metal caught his attention from the corner of his eye as the other goon swung at him with a blade. Steve ducked down to avoid the blade before grabbing the mans elbow, twisting it as he threw him towards the brick wall of the building. "Ok kid, let's move." Once she was following him again he guided them towards Clint's car, which had somehow avoided any damage. "Natasha, what's your status?" he opened the door to the back seat and was starting to helping the girl inside when he heard someone behind him. Steve turned to see one of the goons from the alley coming towards him, so with practiced ease he spun on his heel throwing the shield at their chest. It hit them with a crack of bones breaking, and Steve caught his shield and turned back to the girl "In the car, now!" his jaw ticked slightly as he slammed the door shut and got in the drivers seat.
SCARLET: there were guns and there was shooting and it felt like the base attack all over again. luckily, the plan wasn't 'hide scarlet and try and fight them off' this time. which was good. because she didn't want to see anyone else die because of her. and yet, there was shots and they were aiming at her and why were they doing that? at least Steve's directions were clear, concise, to the point, direct. she had something to focus on. when she got in the car, she was breathing hard. her eyes were wide. and she finally had a bit of time to process the situation. fuck "they were shooting... why were they shooting?" that was all she could ask steve, as they sat in the car, waiting. "why are there so many guns?" she had so many questions, none of which seemed to have any answers. she didn't like that. not a bit.
NATASHA: She grinned when she heard Cap’s voice ask for her ETA. “We’re all clear up here,” she replied as she picked up a iron fire poker and chucked it at one of the goons who was trying to get up and come at her again. “Daisy can bill me for the damages. I’ll be down there in five. FRIDAY, what’s the fastest route?”        “Fastest route is now the back entrance,” the AI informed her. Natasha nodded as she slipped out of the apartment and headed down the back steps. She paused at the back door for a moment, listening to make sure no one was on the other side, before pushing it open. Natasha made herself small and stuck close to the building. As she got to the side of the building she peered around the corner and narrowly missed getting shot in the head by the sniper who’d been tracking her movements. “Fuck,” she breathed as she ducked back behind the apartment building. He was going to be a problem.        Natasha observed her surroundings. Clint’s jeep was only a sprint away, but the side of the apartment complex provided little coverage, only a fee trees here and there to block her from view if she made a run for it. Unlike Steve, she did not have an impenetrable shield to protect her. Police would also be on scene shortly and there were questions she really did not feel like answering today.         The assassin took a deep breath as she eyed one of the trees ahead. As she exhaled, she sprinted forward and simply kept moving. Natasha did what she could to obscure her body from sight as she ran. She could hear the sound of bullets whizzing overhead as the sniper fired his rounds, but it was hard to land a hit on a moving target. Natasha could see Steve push Scarlet into the back of Clint’s jeep as he got into the driver’s seat. She picked up pace, making it to the jeep in record time.        As she pulled on the handle to open the passenger door and slide in, she felt it. One of the sniper’s bullets ricocheted into her shoulder. “Ублюдка!” the assassin swore as she opened the door and slid in. The sniper fired round another round, this one hitting the door of the car as she slammed it shut. Natasha grabbed onto her shoulder to apply pressure to the wound. “Go, go!” she ordered. “Stay low!”
Steve: Steve started the car, revving the engine as he threw the car into drive. "We're ready when you are Nat." he leaned over and unlocked the passenger door for Nat before turning back to Scarlet "Well, they're bad guys with guns, they shoot... a lot." Jeez, this kid is thick. he thought to himself, how she became a hydra spy was beyond him. In the short time he'd interacted with the girl he could see why she flew under the radar as a spy but they clearly didn't have many plans for the kid.           He looked back out the window, spotting Nat making her way to him as she dodged the sniper "Kid, buckle up and hold on." Steve heard the bullets and he ducked down "Shit." he cursed under his breath "FRIDAY, get me a way out of here and to a safe house." The soldier knew that they'd try and follow so they would need to change vehicles once they lost them. "Boss, local units are a block away, you gotta get out of there." His blue eyes looked to the rear view mirror hearing the sirens getting closer. Just as he was about to tell Nat to hurry, he heard the bullet hit her. As soon as she shut the door he stepped on the gas, peeling away from the curb "You alright Nat? How bad is it?"
Scarlet wanted to scream. she wanted to cover her eyes, to cower in a corner. but instead, she fumbled with her seatbelt, heart beating faster, faster, faster... something was wrong. something was WRONG with this whole situation. because the people that Steve was calling the bad guys were people like hydra. and hydra didn't shoot at her. she didn't know if they were bad or good or somewhere in the middle, but she did know they didn't shoot at her. Natasha was shot and somehow that sound was the last straw. she'd been holding it together, barely, and like a jenga pile it all came crashing down. she wasn't there anymore. not really. she was hidden in a pile of body bags, hearing shots fired and that noise of shots connecting with flesh. she didn't scream. she didn't cry. she just shook as tears ran down her face. this was scary, and she didn't have much of any other thoughts on the matter.
NATASHA: “FUCK,” the assassin groaned, pulling down the passenger side visor and examining the bullet wound in the mirror. “It’s safe to say I’ve had better days,” she admitted. “Which is more than I can say for our sniper friend once I identify him through the CCTV cameras." It wasn’t the first time she’d been shot in the line of duty. Her body carried a barrage of battle scars; this was another to add to the list. “It looks like the bullet went clean through,” she winced. “I don’t feel any shrapnel in there.” But she did feel every bump in the road as the jeep speed along. It hurt like a motherfucker, but she would heal in time and faster than most thanks to the enhancements the red room had given her as a child.        Natasha shuffled through the glove compartment where she knew Clint kept a med kit. She finally got the kit open and pulled out an XStat Syringe. These were military grade syringes that carried a dose of tiny sponge-like discs that could be injected into a gunshot wound. The sponges, which were treated with an anti-hemorrhagic substance, expand to 10 times their size in seconds, both plugging the wound and providing needed compression to stanch the bleeding. Natasha popped the cap of the syringe open with her mouth and brought it down over the open wound. “чертовски ад!” she groaned.  She could feel the sponges expanding as they plugged up the wound. She released a breath she’d been holding and gave Steve the once over to make sure that he was alright. “You may wanna call ahead and give them a warning,” she chuckled somewhat breathlessly. “You know how Thing 1 and Thing 2 get.” Clint and James had been pissed off enough when Steve and Nat left the safe house. They were going to be fuming now that she was coming back to them injured. Natasha wiped off beads of sweat from her forehead as she looked at up at the kid through the rear view mirror. Scarlet was as white as a sheet and shellshocked. “You alright, kid?” she asked. 
STEVE: The blonde looked over at Natasha, smirking slightly as he teased her "You kiss your mother with that mouth?" he chuckled as he followed the directions F.R.I.D.A.Y. gave him in his ear, weaving in and out of traffic. As he put more distance between them the tension he felt decreased, but only slightly. Steve knew that this whole thing would only get worse before it gets better and he really didn't want to deal with another HYDRA infestation. He turned off the main road, working his way towards a nearby safe house to switch out cars before heading to HQ. "I want to change cars before heading to HQ to make sure they aren't following, I'll call them during the switch and alert medical to be on standby to check you out."        His blue eyes moved from the road to the rear view mirror to make sure they weren't being followed, only to catch a glimpse of Scarlet passing out. He scoffed as he turned into the garage of the safe house "Shit, let's hope she wakes up before we get to HQ. I want to get all of this figured out as quick as we can." He threw the car in park and cut the engine, unbuckling Nat's seatbelt before his own. Steve got out of the car and opened the back door, collecting his shield before getting the girl out of jeep and putting her in the SUV. He let out a sigh, moving to look at Nat's shoulder "Looks like it's bye bye halter tops." teasing as he pulled out his phone to call Bucky, he'd handle Nat getting hit better than Clint would.
NATASHA: "No, but I did kiss you so I suppose that's close enough," she teased. She tried to keep her face neutral as they weaved in and out of traffic; she didn't want to unnecessarily worry Steve. She'd been shot plenty of times before and with a lot less equipment around to patch up her wounds. She was lucky Clint tended to be accident prone and kept enough of med wings gear in his truck. Natasha nodded as Steve mentioned switching cars. They needed to dump this one in case someone was following them.        “At least we know it’ll be a quite ride,” she mused as she glanced back in the mirror to see Scarlet in the backseat. She supposed it had all simply been too much for the girl. Unfortunately for Scarlet, she still had to go through interrogation and injured or not, Natasha was very thorough. She nodded a thank you to Steve as he unbuckled her seatbelt and helped her out of the jeep. She grimaced as she examined the bullet holes in the truck. “Guess we owe Clint a new jeep,” she replied as she slid into the replacement vehicle. She rolled her eyes as Steve continued to tease her. “Keep talking, Rogers, and I’ll give you a bullet wound to match,” she teased right back as he started the car and made his way toward HQ.        Security was quick and responsive as the pair pulled up in the van. Three guards opened the back of the van and roused Scarlet to her feet, taking her toward the interrogation room. Another two guards opened the passenger door of the van and helped Natasha out. She refused to be taken by gurney on principle. Her arm was shot, but her legs worked just fine. “Don’t start the party without me,” she winked at Steve as she followed the security guards down to the med wing. This was one mission that had definitely not gone according to plan.
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starryknightace · 5 years
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I had Top Surgery! (Post Op 1 1/2 Weeks pics)
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Suprise! I had top surgery almost 2 weeks ago. It was a bit of a process to get to that point and i was literally counting down the hours til i went under. I kept joking to people i was most excited about my "induced 4 hour nap" more than anything. I got to my day surgery clinic early in the morning, to which i got changed into scrubs, was told to wait under a blanket to keep my body warm, and met with the nurse, anesthetist and my surgeon for pre op discussions. Then i was escorted into the operation theatre where i hopped on the table, got nice and comfy with blankets, tubes, oxygen mask annnnddd.... woke up 4 hours later forgetting i had surgery 🤣
I did this in my last surgery (which in comparission was more terrifying cause i had blood in my mouth and couldnt remember what happened to me), but i woke up and couldn't work out where i was, why i felt so dizzy and how i got clothed 🤣 i spent about 2 hours in the recovery room sat in a recliner chair dozing off, except to eat (cause i had been fasting prior) and drink. I did try to pee but couldn't which was frustrating 😅 then i was taken home, where i promptly went to sleep lol
I had my drains in for 72 hours and they were the worst part of recovery. I carried bottles in a pillow case and they had be be positioned lower than my chest at all times. Luckily i wasn't able to move much and while i was on strong pain medication i mainly slept. I had my mum stay with me for a week and i'm thankful she did cause she really saved my butt by doing everything for me (i really had to let go of my control which was weirdly hard, i just felt bad making her do things for me but she was happy to). The drains were uncomfortable and by the morning there were to be taken out i was really hurting where they were inserted. After they were taken out it was a blessing and recovery got A LOT easier. I had shallow baths every few days and my mum helped me was my hair. I had baby wipes for my armpits and chest area which again saved me from being stinky. I still mainly slept, or watched tv shows with my mum up until she left. She prepped me a LOT of meals before she left so i wouldn't have to cook.
Sleeping on my back was probably the most uncomfortable part (after the drains), because i'm a stomach sleeper. I have been managing to sleep though which has been nice (and Maple has been good, sleeping beside me all through the night!). I've been sleeping elevated to help with swelling. I actually got told off by my nurse while doing my week post op check up cause i was still doing too much. I went to Uni for a 6 hour workshop that day too and went to a costume showcase that night. Safe to safe i was exhausted the next day and didnt do much but sleep.
So i'm still quite swollen and bruised 1 1/2 weeks in, which will eventually settle down. my nipples seem to be taking well so crossing fingers the blood returns. I was worried about puckering but being able to closely examine my chest it's due to the swelling at the moment so hopefully that goes down too.
All in all i can't stop smiling at my chest - i finally feel like myself 😁
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Some tips for those looking to have Top Surgery based on my experience:
MEDICINE
I have a high pain threshold - i was willing to go to uni a week post op because i could stand to - would recommend people booking off at LEAST 3 weeks prior to work/study if you can help it. I have only one class per week at the moment and its only theory so thats why i was able to travel and even then i was taken pain killers ever 4 hours.
In my mother's words "don't be a hero, if you need to take pain relief, do it". Best advice. I've weened myself off pain killers to 2 just before bed (panadine forte), or before i need to go out and do things (genral paracetamol). If you need to take more just do it - also write down when you've taken things (because its good to know how much you've had per day!) You can take iburofen and paracetamol intermittedly in 4 hour intervals (eg. Iburofen at 12pm, paracetamol at 2pm, another dose of iburofen at 4pm, etc).
You'll also be taking antibiotics - generally 3 times a day with meals. I also took probiotics 2 hours after taking my antibiotics to avoid the sideaffects of them (eg. Mouth Ulcers (which i did get dang it), thrush, etc).
I was also taking strong pain killers (for the first few days i took 2 every 4 hours then weened down to one per night). Be careful with strong pain killers - the thing doctors/people don't tend to mention is that they can be addictive/dependent drugs. Sometimes you would prefer to keep taking them and that can be an issue. I asked my surgeon at my 1 week if i could please get one more script of something a little stronger than paracetamol to take a night and it took a bit more of a discussion to get it. If you can try to get by on the paracetamol alone do so and remember you can alternate with iburofen every two hours.
WEIRD BOWELS
With all these medications you'll more than likely get constipated so adding to the list of medications i also took good ol' laxatives. The first poop after surgery was like 3 days later and it hurt 😅 the laxatives helped me after to soften my stools (cheat mode is when you're lactose intolerent and you eat a bunch of cheesecake whoops 😅). Also peeing was weird for the first week due to the anesthestics in me. It took me ages to pee, sometimes i had the feeling of needing to pee but nothing happened, and i was peeing like, every hour.
SUPPORT
Both in furniture sense and people sense.
My mum was my main support especially in the first week. She looked after me, my house and my cat. She grabbed things i couldn't access, drove me to my appointments, managed my medicine, cooked me food and generally just helped me around the place. Originally i only wanted her there for a few days but im glad she was there cause i was sore and out of it most of the time. Alongside her my two best friends were also a massive help - coming over to keep me company, drive me places, help me do my grocery shopping, tell me off for overdoing it, gave me plenty of entertainment (thanks to katie i finished wind waker!). Get yourself some support and let go of that control, you will honestly be too tired and sore to do anything anyway.
Make sure you get yourself some comfy pillows. I got myself a U shaped pillow and it has so far saved my neck so much pain. I sleep elevated which means more pillows to prop myself up. And pillows for my couch.
WASHING
So for the first 72 hours i was just a gross gremlin with dry shampoo because of the drains. My chest was covered in bandages so i couldn't wash that area anyway. After the drains were removed i was told i could have showers, but i opted for shallow bathes anyway. I was able to wash myself fine (just go slow), then i would put pants on and get my mum to help wash my hair. After my 1 week check up i started having showers, but stood out of the stream. I only have tape to cover my stitches now (i took them off for the photo) so am able to carefully wash parts of my chest and back i couldnt get to before. I can now wash my hair (slowly). Raising my arms is still not easily fesable but i can lift them to a certain point.
EMOTIONAL
Now, i wasn't as emotional as i thought i was going to be but i do know other trans guys who said they went through bouts of depression after their surgery. Its something to look out for. For me, it was emotionally draining to talk to people about it constantly. I didn't mind though and it was nice people checked up on me but it did wear me out. Its always good though to check in with your emotional state throughout to see how youre feeling. It's not an inmediate grattification, the swelling and bruising is a lot and it won't look right for a while. Also leading up to surgery people can feel fearful and doubtful, always chat to a loved one about your feelings! Personally i had no nerves leading up to surgery but afterwards i was constantly worried that i wasn't healing right. Talking to your surgeon will HELP trust me!
SCARRING
Ok this was a big shock to me so i hope this helps other people but scar medication/ointments don't actually work. I asked my surgeon about it and as a skin professional who has been studying the effects of scarring for over 40 years - this is a beauty scam you don't need to bite into.
"Time and your genetic biology are the only ways that help your scars heal, sorry to burst your bubble but save your money on that placebo".
Looking after yourself the first few months post op will help you get good results later.
Of course i understand if people will still want to buy scarring products but thought i would post the words of a professional too 😅 don't shoot the messenger on this one. And if you do decide to use the stuff then wait 6 months before doing so.
I think that's all i can think of at the moment. There's a really good private facebook group for top surgery and i got a lot of my info from there. If people are curious feel free to DM me, send me an inbox and i'd be happy to chat as best i can! My experience is based in Australia so people might have different expectations/experiences in different countries!
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polygamyff · 5 years
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35. Part 6
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I don’t honestly understand how Maurice’ doctor even deals with him, he is an ass and he is always looking for ways out of things but I am not having it at all. He is staying in this hospital bed until they say he is ok which will be a long wait “so you’re giving me pain killers through my vein?” Maurice asked, his doctor is kind of ignoring him “yes, and you will be falling asleep soon, how nice is that? Not for myself but for your other half, so in ten minutes you will feel numb in the leg but that is just working. When you wake up you will feel the pain in your leg, especially the ulcer. The dressing needs to be constantly changed and the change over part is painful but we will speak on that in the morning. I want you to just rest, we will try something new tomorrow, new medication. I will get the tests back from your blood tests, we will monitor you ok? No running away now” he has no choice, he runs then I am straight leaving him for this, he is not trying to get better “ok” he looks fed up, how does think I feel, I have to hear shit about him, about our future “goodnight” smiling at the doctor, he really got himself in hospital. This is all his fault, he could have dealt with it prior before it all became this, before a fucking ulcer started to appear. Maybe I neglected him, but how could I ever notice such a thing “I am sorry” Maurice said “how long we got until you sleep?” I rather he just sleep “probably eight minutes now, I am sorry” I hate seeing him in this bed “I swear you stress me out Maurice, you don’t get it and then you think I don’t want to help you? I help other people, I work in a hospital caring for others. I seen death, I seen joys from my work and you think I don’t want to know about you? Are you serious, and you actually died on me but yet you did this” I bet he wishes he is asleep “I get it, I am proud of what you are but I don’t like to see you hurt. I really don’t, it’s different when it’s the person you love, real different. I can’t explain it, but it’s hard to speak on things like this. I hate it because I am the cursed child that got this and they didn’t but I fucked up, I do hope I make it through years to come” I hate talking about this “but you’re not even trying now, for now. You aren’t trying or letting me help you, it’s happened ok. I fucking love you now, you got my heart and now I want you to let me help you” Maurice sighed out “you’re in Cali” he said “and am I not fucking moving for you!” I spat, he gets me angry. Maurice rested his head back looking ahead of him “you don’t have to be here” he mumbled “you’re right, see ya” getting up from the chair, he can go screw himself and fall asleep “you can take the jet and go” walking around the bed “you are pushing me away” I need to go.
Siting in the back of the SUV going to Shawn’ apartment, let me call my mom and tell her I won’t be coming back tomorrow morning. I will probably cry, I mean it’s my mom I will “hello Robbie” that was it “mommy” I squeezed out, like really squeezed out before I let out a sob “baby, what is it? Please talk to me” I need to gather myself, I don’t want him to push me away. I just care for him so much but I am being treated like this “it’s Maurice, he is in hospital” I breathed out “what? Oh my god, is he ok?” she asked “it’s his sickle cell, it’s playing up” wiping my tears “I called to tell you I won’t be coming back to Cali, not yet anyways but it’s just he brings it on himself and then hearing things like he has a shortened life expectancy, I get people with that do but we can try. And he doesn’t try, he just pushes me away when I want to help. He was waiting for me to go back to Cali, so then he can go to the doctors but he couldn’t take the pain, why? Mom, what have I done wrong to him, it’s upsetting me” I don’t understand “Robbie, it’s not you. The thing you have done for him is given him a purpose to be around, nothing wrong with that. It scared me to know that Reign could have had that, the fact he didn’t bring it up showed he was ashamed, he was scared but allowed it to happen to see what would happen. I don’t think he is purposely doing it, he is scared Robbie. He may want to deal with it on his own so he doesn’t see sad faces, you have given him a lot Robyn. Just calm down now, stop crying” she knows I am a mess “but it’s like he doesn’t want me there, he is rude. I left; he is asleep anyways. I checked before I went because that is just me” I sighed out “it probably hurts him more to see, feel himself breaking down. It’s a nasty illness but you be there, you’re needed there Robbie. Men are stupid and stubborn, when he is acting that way you continue to love him, that will turn his heart” my mom is right, I should do that.
Knocking on the apartment door “sorry, my bad. I am here” Shawn opened the door “hey” I smiled lightly “where is he?” Shawn asked, walking into the apartment “hospital, they gave him some strong painkillers, it put him to sleep so yeah, he is asleep. I walked out because he was being him, I guess” Shawn closed the door “he is such a stubborn man my brother, my god. Come here, bring it in. You didn’t get the dick you wanted either” Nalah said as she hugged me, she knows how to make me smile “yeah” I said laughing “what can I say, this dress went to waste. I am sad” hugging Nalah close “Maurice is just like my dad, stubborn” moving back from the hug “oh and my dad is coming, I feel like he ran to the jet. His golden child, I said he made himself ill and he goes don’t say that, come on sit” walking over to the couch, my smile grew seeing Reign asleep on the couch “she fell asleep just a few minutes ago, she was ready to play actually” sitting down smiling at my daughter “she does play up, I think it’s new surroundings and she is like I can play up, these two will let me, just like Maurice does. It’s me that makes sure she is asleep early, no playing around” shuffling back on the couch “so was he being an ass to you? My brother that is” nodding my head “his way of getting rid of anyone, he knows people will walk away like that, it’s a horrible trait to have. That is why I do call him Marquis, he has that side to him but I do blame my dad. He spoilt and loved Maurice so much, he didn’t make sure he looked after himself with this illness, like why? All he did was fuck himself over, we was saying that didn’t we?” Nalah pointed at Shawn “I seen it all, he was in hospital, out. Drugs, night out. But I think the drugs numbed it, he didn’t feel it and he liked it. When I goes to Maurice, I can’t do it. And he ran off to Cali, his dad got him. I know that is when Marquis got him but he did that, made him unhappy even more I guess but he wasn’t killing himself. It was like watching your friend killing himself. He did say to me a few months back, I feel I am having more issues now with this illness, I think it’s because god knows I want to be here and I felt bad, I goes it’s not like that. Stop thinking that, just relax” here comes the water works “it’s ok” waving Nalah off to not cone near me.
I can’t really see my life without him “Robyn, stop crying. Like when I knew my brother had that, my dad too. Look at my dad, he is living on his last leg. I mean that literally but he maintained a healthy life, a very healthy one anyways. It can be done” she is right “you know when you think on it, how can god be so cruel. To give someone happiness and then try and snatch it away from them, I feel like that. But he don’t really want me there” Nalah laughed “he wants you to see prideful Maurice, I mean come on. Marquis is coming through” Nalah makes me laugh “my mom said I need to just keep loving him, he will turn” Shawn nodded his head “it will, my god. My friend loves you so much, he really does. I didn’t think he could love someone more than his dad but he does, and it’s you. Honestly, you can. He has said about you not being around” pulling a face “he acts like he don’t care though? I don’t know, he just wants me away” is Shawn lying to me “when we speak on the phone, near all of the time. He said it, he goes I am just seeing Reign sometimes, I miss Reign so much, I don’t get enough of her. He feels he has nobody around, he feels like that again I said you can go to Cali. But you’re moving here?” nodding my head “he never said that to me, he said it’s on my to do list to move to Cali!?” I am shocked “he is making you happy, he was saying how he didn’t want to do that but he is for you and that it’s going to be years. He will miss Reign first steps, he won’t be able to move the business that quick, what can he do. Terry needs Robyn, he did mention Terry a lot, he was concerned for her. I goes she has her husband nigga, she will be fine” I never heard any of this, I don’t know how to feel about this.
Nalah and Shawn did offer me to stay over and that I could sleep in the spare room but I decided to go back to the hotel with Reign, I need to change and I rather be at home with my daughter, well not home but in this place. I guess the bonus of staying here has to be the fact the room get cleaned and the beds are made, I mean that is a dream to not do it. Climbing into bed with Reign in my arms, she can sleep with me. I want to snuggle her even though she is asleep, I just need to get some snuggles with her. This girl is not going to wake up at all, she is asleep and out for the count until the morning. I am actually wondering about the morning now, do I go to see him. Actually I will because that is not me, like my mom said I need to just continue to love him because he does want it but I am shocked at hearing what Shawn said, I didn’t think he felt that way. The only reason I did decide on moving her was because of being close to him and making it easier for him but I didn’t think he was upset with me not being close, I really thought he was ok with it all. He hides a lot away from me, I don’t know why because I would do anything for him but yet he hides things away from me when all I want to do is love him, I am very understanding when needs be.
Rude awakening, like I was not expecting Marquis to be here at five in the morning. Does he not understand sleep but it’s fine, Joy and Marquis are both here and I near fell out of bed from the shock when the hotel phone kept ringing. I had to throw something on and come out of the room now “sorry for the rude awakening” Marquis said, walking into the open planned living room, Joy got up from the couch “yes dear, I am sorry. He wanted to come here. We saw Maurice, he is asleep still” Joy hugged me “yeah, they gave him strong painkillers, that will keep him quiet. He is forever just doing the most” moving back from the hug “he will kill me that boy of mine” Marquis sighed out saying “yeah” sitting down on the couch “you want anything? Breakfast? I will be calling that up soon?” Marquis shook his head “he does everything I tell him not too, I just want him to be ok” Marquis does look very stressed “I did say for Nalah to takeover the business” Joy made a point “no, I built him for this, he is just being stupid. Is my grandchild asleep still?” nodding my head “she needs her beauty sleep, how are you?” Marquis asked about me “erm, ok I guess. Just upsets me, I love him a lot and I want him to be here with me forever. I care about him but he just likes to put that to the side and push me away, thank you for asking though” he didn’t need too “I want to know my family are ok” I am family now, still shocking to me.
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trustyourgutblog · 5 years
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When Shit Got Real - My Journey to Digestive Disease Diagnoses
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Greetings everyone! C Here :]
One of the reasons that S and I decided to create this blog is that we both struggle with chronic health conditions. I thought a good place to start would be talking about my journey of how I got diagnosed. In May of 2016, I graduated from my clinical social work master’s program. The previous 2 years had been among some of the most stress-inducing years of my life and I have a feeling that the life stressors, along with genetic predispositions, were significant catalysts to my diagnoses.
I had grown up in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan (s/o to all da Yoopers reading this) and in order to pursue my dreams of attending graduate school to become a mental health provider, I had to move away from my family, friends, and the place that I had always called home. 
*Enter huge stress catalyst number 1*
A few weeks before I was scheduled to leave for graduate school, I started to experience some major anxiety about moving so far away from my family and friends and attending school (thanks to the semester that I had taken off). I wasn’t experiencing full blown panic attacks, but my episodes of racing thoughts, rapid heart rate, and shortness of breath were enough to make me ask my primary care provider for anxiety medication. Thank the universe that she was a Doctor of Osteopathic Medicine (DO) and encouraged me to try more holistic ways to manage my anxiety such as going for walks, staying active, and seeking out help from natural supports.
Fast forward to finding an apartment, completing the 400 mile move, and entering graduate school. The first few weeks were pretty difficult, but eventually I made friends and began to somewhat relax. The academic and scheduling demands of grad school were constant and I was experiencing a baseline level of stress at all times (juggling classes, homework, reading, my internship, and a side job). Not to mention, I also pushed myself out of my comfort zone to study abroad in Europe for 2 weeks during the summer between my first and second year. Don’t get me wrong, I was having a blast and the busyness of my new life was exhilarating. But, I was putting my body under months and months of ongoing stress without pause.
Grad school seemed to fly by and before I knew it, it was May of 2016 and I graduated with a 4.0.  You guessed it – I’m Type A and a self-proclaimed perfectionist (I’m including my GPA here to illustrate the level of chronic stress that I was experiencing – if you’re a control freak like me, you know this type of stress).  A few weeks after graduation, I continued to work my student assistant job as I looked for a job in social work. I was also on the hunt for a rural location so that I could get more assistance with my student loans. Seven applications later and I had gotten a call back from a Community Mental Health agency requesting to schedule an interview.
A few days after the interview, I received a phone call stating that I had landed the job! Praise be! I was so excited that thinking about the stress of finding a new place to live and the 2- hour commute hadn’t even occurred to me. It turns out that they were short-staffed (big surprise in social work, I know) and wanted me to start right away. So, I gave a 2 week notice at my other job and began looking for a place to live. I started working a few days a week at my new job (since commuting 2 hours a day, 5 days a week is enough to make anyone go mad), and was able to able to find a place that was halfway in between my boyfriend’s job and mine. About a week after my boyfriend and I had signed the lease, he was given another work assignment and he would no longer be working at this site – he was now going to be assigned a traveling job where he would have to visit sites all over the country. So here I was. Stuck in a 1-year lease in a town with no friends or family and facing the cold, hard reality of a long distance relationship. Well, shit. I was now going to be separated from my best friend who I had lived with since I was 17 years old.
*Cue mental breakdown*
I tried to stay positive and began my new job with my typical enthusiastic, bright personality.  However, your first job as a social worker, fresh out of graduate school, is anything but bright. Don’t get me wrong!  I gained some invaluable experience and met the most phenomenal people.  But, I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that it was confusing, stressful, and straight up terrifying.
*Enter gut health spiral*
A few weeks into my job, I started noticing some changes in my digestion. If you feel uncomfortable with females talking about their bowel movements, then you may want to stop reading here. Seriously - there’s gonna be a lot of poop talk. As a kid, I’ve always been a 3,4,5 times a day pooper (where’s the poop emoji on this thing?!). My bowel movements always seemed “healthy” and I never had any trouble going. So, it was very strange to me that I was starting to experience constipation.
Huh, that’s odd, I thought. 
Too busy to think much of it, I “just kept swimming” with my fast-paced life.  After a few weeks of on and off constipation, I started noticing that I had blood in my stools.
Woah. That’s not right.
My mind immediately thought of my older sister. She had been diagnosed with Crohn’s Disease within the last 2 years. My first cousin had also recently been diagnosed with Crohn’s after a major hospitalization and the removal of some of her colon. Naturally, I began to panic. I immediately thought I must have it too and texted my sister. She texted back a few minutes
later –
“You need to go get a colonoscopy.”
So, I went about finding a primary care doctor as I had barely been moved to the area for a month and hadn’t been established with anyone yet. The provider I found was nice enough, but she totally dismissed my concerns as some mild constipation and potential hemorrhoids. I requested that she refer me to a gastroenterologist for a colonoscopy and instead she sent me to a colorectal surgeon. 
*eye roll*
 Looking back, I wish I would have advocated further for myself. This provider was clearly dismissing my concerns and referring me to a surgeon would get me off of her back. She expected him to examine me and find that nothing was wrong. No, I’m not making a judgment. The next time she saw me I had already been diagnosed and she was genuinely surprised. I should have trusted my gut (see what I did there ;]) and pushed for a colonoscopy right away.
At this next appointment, the provider (who, mind you, was a dude) performed a Sigmoidoscopy.  This means that he put a long tube with a camera attached to it up my butt (WHILE I WAS AWAKE) and promptly told me that he was seeing inflammation and I needed a colonoscopy.
NO FUCKING SHIT.
So, after spending an uncomfortable $40 at this appointment, he referred me to a gastroenterologist and said that there’s a potential that I have Ulcerative Colitis. Phew. Anything was better than a Crohn’s diagnosis.  Since I had that appointment with the surgeon, I was able to skip right to a colonoscopy without a GI consult prior. I had to call my boyfriend (who was currently across the country in Utah) and ask if he could fly home for a few days to drive me to and from the appointment. Being the supportive angel that he is, he agreed to come home and a few weeks later I had my first colonoscopy.
My new GI doc - a pretty, blonde, and particularly cold woman, explained that she couldn’t figure out if I had Crohn’s or not. Basically, the inflammation in my colon that was causing the bleeding and constipation was so far up in my tract that they needed to try an Esophagogastroduodenoscopy (EGD). Aka go in the other way. She prescribed a mild steroid to help control the inflammation while they tried to figure out exactly what was going on. Thankfully, my boyfriend was home for a week, so I was able to schedule the EGD while he was home. Another round of prep (aka pooping my brains out), another 2 days off of work, and a procedure later and they STILL couldn’t definitively diagnose me with Crohn’s.
So, another procedure was recommended.
“We’ll need to complete a Capsule Endoscopy.” 
Aka swallow a giant horse pill that is actually a camera and it takes pictures of your insides while it moves through your digestive tract.  Am I actually in an episode of the Magic School Bus? Another day of prep and another day taken off of work to walk around with a giant fanny pack (and not the cute kind) of wires taking pictures of my insides.
Finally, here I sit in an exam room at my new GI’s office - four months later. Anxiously waiting at my GI doctor’s office for her to come in and inform me of the results of the plethora of testing that I had undergone. It had been 6 months since I first noticed the blood in my stool. Six months of labs, procedures, and office visits. If there was ever a drum roll moment, this was it.
My GI doc walked in, greeted me, and said, “Well, it looks like you have Crohn’s.” My heart stopped and ironically, my stomach dropped. Watching my sister endure the complicated symptoms of her Crohn’s over the last 2 years did not give me a hopeful look into my future. She had told me horror stories of having to poop in the woods while on a run because she just couldn’t hold it any longer, extreme fatigue that caused her to feel like she needs 12+ hours of sleep per night, and stomach cramping that was so unbearable it caused her to double over.
I wanted to cry, but I didn’t (see earlier reference to my doctor being cold AF). We discussed treatment options, she prescribed medications, and told me to “eat bland foods like bread, grilled cheese, and rice,” and sent me on my way. I got into my car after the appointment, called my boyfriend, and immediately broke down. The way I saw it, a Crohn’s diagnosis was a “see you later” to my former, happier existence. I couldn’t believe that this was my reality. My next call was to my sister, who I appreciate beyond belief. Because she knew the heartache that I was experiencing at that exact moment.
Okay, pity party over – flash to present day. I’ve now been living with Crohn’s, Irritable Bowel Syndrome (IBS), and Inflammatory Bowel Disease (IBD) for 3 years. Surprisingly, I am doing pretty well. My health isn’t perfect, but I’ve come a long way from 2016. If I’ve kept you entertained this far, I’d like to share more of my journey on how I’ve made my way to this healthier place in my next blog post.
As much as I felt like my diagnoses were a death sentence – I can now see that they were just a beginning to a new chapter in my life. This new chapter includes becoming more aware, mindful, and attuned to my body. In my upcoming blog posts, I’ll share how I have been able to improve my self-care, nutrition, and lifestyle in an effort to lead a more fulfilling, aligned life.
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anamarialujan · 6 years
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No.
I had this silly idea after learning about the ballroom, Shelagh's dress, and my hope of seeing Patrick in a glorious black suit. (And the absolute lack of Turnadette kisses in this season).
I'm from the app so I can't put "Read more". Sorry!
No.
"You look amazing." "You're beautiful." "You were brilliant."
Shelagh looked up to see her husband.
“No."
Patrick chuckled, shaking his head.
"I thought if I tried one more time, I would win a kiss."
She sighed, frustrated. Of course she wanted to kiss him, and more, but they were in the middle of a ballroom, a ballroom that she organized. Everyone was around them, she had to stay composed as always, but Patrick simply tortured her by being more handsome than ever and giving her all kinds of compliments since he saw her in her silver dress and new lipstick.
"Shelagh..."
“No."
"The only thing you told me tonight was 'no'. No fried foods, no dancing, no alcohol, no kiss... "
"Because I know your intentions." She heard herself being too hard, but she heard his giggle once more and then the music started to play and Patrick stood up. She stretched out her hand, offering him a truce, but was perplexed when she saw that her husband was walking towards Trixie.
"Patrick!" she demanded.
"What? I thought you were going to give me another one of your ‘no’."
She rolled her eyes and took his hand, almost dragging him towards the slow rhythm of the music.
"I guess not even now will you kiss me."
“No. Patrick, there are the children. And the sisters."
"And if I tell you that, at least in public, I never saw you with so little clothes?"
"Patrick!" she separated, looking at him between scandalized and amused.
"I gather that is also a ‘no’.”
She saw him put on his saddest face and smiled, very reluctantly. Glancing sideways, she gave him a kiss so short that Patrick barely registered.
"That is all? Not one more?"
"No," she leaned on his shoulder, smelling his perfume and taking refuge in the warmth she knew so well.
"We can not leave before either," she heard him affirm.
"No," she sighed, each time with more sadness. "I'm the organizer, I have to stay until the end."
"And take a few minutes for us alone?"
She looked at him.
"We can not disappear like that, we're married."
"And there goes another ‘no’. If we were not married they would also talk about us. "
"It is true."
She hugged him closer, thinking about when it was the last time they had danced. It was a long time ago, and it had included kisses.
Suddenly she made a decision. She pulled away from him, went to their table and took her purse.
"I see you outside."
She knew she had left him in shock and that amused her.
The truth was that her husband was right. Probably months ago they did not have a time for them two alone that did not involve discussing medical issues of other people or their children. It seemed that there were always others in their midst and never only them. And something on this night, which made her remember other nights where she dreamed of dances, beautiful dresses, friends and little glasses of alcohol, gave her the courage she needed.
This time she had her dress, her hair free, and she waited outside her ballroom for her love.
Although she also needed a cigarette. She saw it accompanying her imaginary dances when she was a nun, and now she wanted one, and she had wanted it for days. Of course, Patrick would notice, but she would not let...
"There you are! Fred got in my way and... are you smoking, Mrs Turner?"
"No, Patrick." Shelagh threw down her cigarette and stepped on it with her shoe. Patrick made a gesture of pain.
"I was just going to ask you one."
“No. Really, Patrick, you can’t, and neither can I, but I've wanted one for ages. And I will not tell you where I got it."
"You tortured me all night." Patrick approached her, putting his hands on her waist, "I told you many times tonight that you are beautiful." He kissed her, and moaned at the taste of the cigarette. "You know? We could go to the car right now."
"To what? To talk about ulcers?"
He let out a laugh that she tried to choke by putting her hand over his mouth. He kissed it and then he took her.
"You're cruel! You will always use that to make fun of me."
She shrugged, laughing.
"I'll have to say another ‘no’ to your invitation."
"I imagined it. Why?"
"Because you parked the under the brighter lamppost of all Poplar."
She laughed when he saw her husband clutching his head in frustration.
"I guess everything I propose tonight will not work out."
"Sorry, Patrick, but that's the way it is," she gave him a small kiss and separated. "Let's go back inside. After all, we are not two teenagers to be here in a hidden corner..."
Patrick kissed her hard, pressing her against the wall. When he released her, she giggled, shaking her head but clinging to his shoulders.
“No."
"I assure you that in a very short time you will be screaming ‘yes!’"
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Post # 6 - It is what it is
I'd be lying if I said I haven't spent the past half an hour with tears flowing from my eyes staring at a blank screen wondering how I'm going to get everything I've got floating in my head out. I suppose listening to Coldplay live in Argentina probably wasn't the best choice of music to set the mood. I'll work on that one in the future...
Where do I start? It's been a question I'm often asking myself at the start of these blog posts and it's certainly not the easiest one. What do you guys know? There's been so much happen since my last post on Thursday night.
Friday July 26th: I saw my doctors around lunchtime who came in quite concerned. Whilst they were confident my lymphoma was one called DLBCL (Diffuse Large B- Cell Lymphoma), some tests had come back with suspect results that it could be a more aggressive and harsh type of lymphoma called Burkitt's lymphoma and if confirmed, chemo was starting that night with no time to waste. There was also one marked in the middle (a cross of the two) called Burkitt's Like Lymphoma which is treated similarly to DLBCL. Whatever it was, I couldn't change it. I just wanted answers and if treatment needed to start, let's get it underway!
Adam, my incredible haematology doctor sent off another test of my gall bladder to finally get the confirmation I was after. It was urgent. He had to know. It was reassuring of Adam to state "Justin, we need to know what this is. Preliminary results are due back later this afternoon and that will hopefully rule out Burkitt's. if it is Burkitt's, we'll start chemo tonight and I'll be with you every step of the way - even if I have to stay back a few hours."
I know doctors earn a fair coin on a lazy day, but how many give you that much confidence that you and your health is important to them? I'm going to have it a guess and say not many but alas, I am so incredibly lucky with the team of doctors I have.
4:00pm and Adam strolls in the door heading straight for my room. My heart drops, similarly to what it had when Michael dropped the news I had lymphoma. "Good news. Preliminary results are back and we're confident it's not Burkitt's. You can't rule out anything in life, so there still is a small chance it could be. We're happy to wait for the final results on Monday, figure out a treatment plan from there and start Chemotherapy next week. Spend Saturday and Sunday on day leave and I'll see you next week."
This was news to my ears. In a time of what has been negative or no news, I could spend the weekend with family relatively freely and forget everything was happening for a few hours each day. My Uncle Bob and Aunty Denise were down from Tasmania to see me, as was my Aunty AJ and cousins from Bairnsdale so it all felt like it fit into place.
Friday night saw me considerably more relaxed with this news...that was until Collingwood started and it was the demolition it was. Slightly humorous side note, the nurse came in around 9pm for my nightly observations. Naturally, my heart rate was up a bit more than normal watching the football (118BPM - normally between 70-85BPM). This caused the nurse to call in the team of doctors who wanted to put me on an ECG machine for the night and monitor my heart. I assured them it was because Collingwood were on and if they gave me an hour, I'd be okay. It took some convincing, but it finally worked. Back they came an hour later and it had gone down - crisis averted.
Saturday afternoon and evening was wonderful. I went down to dads for dinner and was fortunate enough to spend some much needed time with family over a beautiful dinner and good laugh.
Sunday was much the same. I went home, mum did a fair chunk of washing for me as I spent it being me. Seeing Courtney, napping in my own bed and even headed over to Fountain Gate and got some much needed new clothes and other miscellaneous items - something that seems so simple but is such a luxury when you've spent the past 15 days in hospital.
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Monday July 29th: They say the more you think positively, the more positive news you shall receive....or it goes something like that right? I woke up this morning the most upbeat and best I'd felt in weeks. I felt fine. I felt no pain, almost like I'd woken up from a shitty hotel! In all honesty, I felt like I'm abusing the system however I keep being quickly reminded how much I need to be here. Did I wake up so positive because I lived my old life for 16 hours over the weekend? Is it because I was hoping to hear a reasonably positive outcome with this lymphoma test? Probably a mix of both if I'm honest. But whatever it was, I was hopeful.
Adam came around at roughly 10:00am. Didn't really have much for me in terms of news but more of an outline of the day. If they hear the results of the test they were waiting on, they'd write me up a treatment plan ASAP and get chemo started this afternoon. At worst, I'd be starting it tomorrow (Tuesday). They just needed that definitive answer of what type of lymphoma I have - an answer I'd love more than anybody.
Either way, we agreed i'd need a PICC (Peripherally Inserted Central Catheter) line in which basically is a long-term cannula. It runs from the inside of my arm right up and around and stops basically just outside my heart. This is for easy access for the chemotherapy and even an easy exit for blood tests - something that's proven incredibly difficult to take from me over the past few days. Additionally, these lines can last up to six months verses the three days you get from a cannula. There were too many positives to say no to!
This wasn't scheduled for any time in particular, so 1:00pm came around and I was about to be taken to get the PICC line in.
Just as I was about to leave, Adam came in with a few words I'm all too familiar with. "Well, the pathology tests we were waiting on have come back inconclusive..."
Woah. Wait. What? How do tests of my gall bladder that was removed six days ago come back inconclusive? How does one of the main sources not have enough 'data' to tell them what sort of lymphoma I have? I was just stunned.
Adam continued "As a result, we can see some signs of Burkitt's lymphoma and that's what we're going to treat you for. You're young. You should be able to handle it and it's better to over treat you than under treat and be stuck where we are at the moment. It's an intense 16-day chemo treatment that will totally wipe out your red and white blood cells as well as your platelets. We foresee you being in here for another 3-5 weeks, depending on how well your body goes getting these levels back up to normal post this first treatment..."
I honestly say this but that's all I remember from this conversation. I was hoping I'd be heading home this week but looks like that definitely won't be happening. Today marks day 40 of the past 55 days in hospital (day 15 of this stint) and if I go off the longest suggested time expected, I have another 35 days to go. That honestly crushed me.
I got taken down to get my PICC line in - quite an easy process. Very similar to putting in a larger cannula, just a whole lot longer and uses local anaesthetic as well as being guided by an ultrasound and X-ray. I'm lucky enough to have two ports, which will hopefully speed up some of my medication and how much they can pump in. Does it feel weird? The only weird part was feeling it slide down past and near my heart - but that's okay now!
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By the time I return, dad made his was in to try and help process the news. We get Adam in to once again explain the process. In layman's terms, I'll be starting an intense and high-dose 16-day chemotherapy program kicking off tomorrow (Tuesday) morning. Most of the time across the next 16 days, I'll be hooked up via IV drip getting whatever medication is required. I think I saw I have rest days on days 7 & 8 which I suppose will give me two days to look forward to. At the end of the day, it's something I'm not certain on and will be a day by day process and constant learning about what's going into my body to help fight with me.
I do have one request for you all. With my body not producing red or white blood cells or platelets over the next few weeks, I do request if you are planning to visit however are sick to stay away those extra few days. With my immune system going to be at the lowest it's been, I don't particularly want to pick up something I don't need. Additionally, as much as I'd love flowers, they're also banned due to the infection risk of the spores mixing with the chemotherapy and causing some dangerous damage from the inside.
At the end of the day, if you're not sure please message me and check as I'm not entirely sure myself about everything. I'm constantly learning as I'm going.
How am I feeling? I'm nervous. I'm nervous at the unknown. How will this affect me? How bad am I going to feel? Will I lose my hair? What will my energy levels be like? In advance, I do apologise if over the next few weeks I'm not myself. Truth be told, that's because I probably won't be.
In a way, i'm finally excited to start my treatment first thing tomorrow morning (after yet ANOTHER lumbar puncture). I was so envious of both people next to me getting their first rounds of chemo today. I know mine will be intense but I just can't wait.
I've learnt so much about cancer and chemotherapy over the past four days and I know there's so much more to learn. Today I learnt I'll be incredibly highly cytotoxic, which basically means all needles and anything used on me need to go in a separate bin just for me. Additionally, I'll have to get used to the good old double flush after the toilet to ensure all waste is disposed of. Mouth ulcers are a big issue with most chemo patients as well. I'll have to start brushing my teeth after every meal and taking a special mouthwash 3x daily to assist with keeping these under control. There's plenty of other little things, but they're two I least expected.
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Everything really hit me last night....not like it did tonight though. I just had twenty minutes to reflect and it just became a sudden realisation. What I'm going through is real. It's not a 'joke' anymore. It's not something they're looking at as a potential cause. It is the cause. I have a legitimate medical issue and it's finally time to fight lymphoma. All well and good to be talking the talk like I have been - it's now time to walk the walk. This sits well with me. If I give somebody my word, I do whatever I can to get it achieved. Unfortunately for the lymphoma throughout my body I've given it my word and it's time to fight it. Round one begins tomorrow morning.
I leave tonight feeling a whole lot better than I did when I started tonight's post. I didn't learn from my words earlier as Coldplay live from Argentina is still playing however I'm in a much more comfortable mind space.
My best friend of a lazy 20 years, Dylan visited tonight with his partner, Jacqui. One phrase popped up more than most and they made me aware it was a common phrase coming out of my mouth.
"It is what it is."
I can't control what's happened to me as "it is what it is." What I can control from here though is how I fight lymphoma. Thanks for the visit tonight guys, I appreciated the two hours spent here in what's been an incredibly tough afternoon.
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Much love.
Juzz xx
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