#blood pressure 911 pills

[selfharm-harmreduction]

Arteries, Veins, & Capillaries: A First Aid Guide (For Self-Harmers)

[Pt: Arteries, Veins, & Capillaries: A First Aid Guide (For Self-Harmers)]

IF YOU BELIEVE YOU MAY HAVE HIT AN ARTERY CALL FOR AN AMBULANCE IMMEDIATELY

[Pt: IF YOU BELIEVE YOU MAY HAVE HIT AN ARTERY CALL FOR AN AMBULANCE IMMEDIATELY]

[Image description: an info graphic showing three different types of bleeding. The first hand is labelled "ARTERIES". Their is a cut to the wrist of hand 1 and it is spirting blood as well as leaking a heavy stream of blood. Bullet points below hand 1 say "Spurting blood; Pulsating flow; Bright red colour".

Hand two is labelled "VEINS". Their is a cut below the thumb on the 2nd hand and a heavy stream of blood is flowing from the cut. Bullet points below hand 2 say "Steady, slow flow; Dark red colour".

Hand three is labelled "CAPILLARIES". Their is a cut to the back of hand 3 and a light stream of blood is flowing from the cut. A bullet points below hand 3 says "Slow, even flow". /end id]

Disclaimer: I am not a medical professional, all of the information below is based on my research. It is always best to see a doctor if you are injured. I do not promote self-harm.

Arteries, veins, and capillaries are all blood vessels. Blood vessel carry blood through out the body and cuts to different ones require different levels of care.

Telling the difference

[Pt: Telling the difference]

Capillaries:

Capillaries are the smallest type of blood vessel and are also the least dangerous. A cut to a capillary will... - bleed slowly and evenly - stop bleeding after 2-5 minutes of even pressure* - unlikely to be life threatening A cut to a capillary will not... - spirt blood - flow heavily* (*unless you have bleeding disorder or have taken a blood thinning medication or drug, more info on this below)

Veins:

Veins carry blood back to your heart. A cut to a vein will... - bleed dark red blood - have an even flow of blood - bleed more then capillaries - stop bleeding after 5-10 minutes of even pressure* - sometimes be life threatening (*unless you have bleeding disorder or have taken a blood thinning medication or drug, more info on this below) A cut to a vein will not... - spirt blood

Arteries:

Arteries are the largest blood vessel, they carry oxygenated blood away from the heart. Cuts to arteries are always an emergency, if you (or someone else) ever cuts an artery call for an ambulance (i.e. 999, 911, 112). A cut to an artery will... - spurt blood - have a pulsating flow (i.e. spurting may stop momentarily then begun again) - bleed bright red blood - deadly without immediate medical attention (call an ambulance!) A cut to an artery cannot be treated at home and requires immediate emergency medical attention.

First aid!

[Pt: First aid!]

Now that you know the difference between arterial, venus, and capillary bleeding heres how to treat them. But first the obligatory list of ambulance needing situations.

Call for an ambulance if...

You have or think you may have cut an artery

You go into shock (link)

If you are unsure if you need immediate emergency medical attention

If you do not think you can take care of your injuries alone and cannot get yourself to A&E

If you have any of the symptoms listed in the A&E list but cannot get yourself to A&E

Go to A&E if...

If you lose sensation or movement in any area, this is a sign of nerve or tendon damage

The injury is to a joint, palm, your face, or genitals

If the injury is internal

You can see muscle or bone. Muscle looks like meat

If the tool you used was rusty, dirty, or you do not know if it was clean

If you are unsure if you need emergency medical attention

If you do not think you can take care of your injuries alone

If you are unsure how serious an injury is call your local A&E's nurse line (if in the UK call 111 or use 111 online (link)).

Capillaries:

Apply pressure to the cut(s) with a cloth that will not pill or leave fuzz in the cut (e.g. a bit of old t-shirt) for 5 minutes or until bleeding stops. If bleeding does not stop after 10 minutes of even pressure go to A&E. If you cannot get yourself to A&E safely, begin to have symptoms of shock (link), or think you might need immediate emergency medical care call for an ambulance Rinse the cut(s) out with warm water to remove any debris. Dry well with a clean non-fuzzy cloth. If your wound is gaping it needs stitches, seek immediate medical attention. If you cannot/will not seek medical attention use steri-strips (link) or butterfly bandages (link) to close the injury. These can also be used for more minor injuries where the edges of cut do not meet. Otherwise, use a plaster or other bandage to cover the wound(s). More info on first aid and wound care here (link).

Veins:

Apply pressure to the cut(s) with a cloth that will not pill or leave fuzz in the cut (e.g. a bit of old t-shirt) for 10 minutes or until bleeding stops. If bleeding does not stop after 10 minutes of even pressure go to A&E. If you cannot get yourself to A&E safely or think you might need immediate emergency medical care call for an ambulance. Keep an eye out for symptoms of shock (link), call for an ambulance if you suspect you are in shock. Shock cannot be treated at home and can be fatal. Follow the instructions of the emergency line operator until the ambulance arrives. Rinse the cut(s) out with warm water to remove any debris. Dry well with a clean non-fuzzy cloth. If your wound is gaping it needs stitches, seek immediate medical attention. If you cannot/will not seek medical attention use steri-strips (link) or butterfly bandages (link) to close the injury. These can also be used for more minor injuries where the edges of cut do not meet. Otherwise, use a plaster or other bandage to cover the wound(s). More info on first aid and wound care here (link).

Arteries:

Immediately begin applying pressure with a cloth, do not worry too much about getting fluff in the cut. Call for an ambulance (999, 911, 112, etc.) and follow the instructions of the emergency line operator. Do not hang up until the EMTs (people who work on the ambulance) are with you. If there is anyone else in the same building/area yell for them to help you, do not move to find them.

[killed-by-choice]

Amber Thurman, 28 (USA 2022)

Amber with her beloved son

Georgia’s Pro-Life laws have reduced abortion and protected women. Amber Thurman, who died because of a legal abortion from out of state, is the only person in Georgia for years of records to die from septic shock from “retained products of conception.”

Amber, a healthy 28-year-old single mother, learned she was pregnant with twins in 2022. Scared for her stability and feeling unable to provide for them while attending nursing school, she and her friend Ricaria Baker scheduled a legal surgical abortion in North Carolina.

After leaving her son with a babysitter and making the long drive to another state, Amber and Ricaria were delayed by heavy traffic. They contacted the abortion facility only to find out that the facility had crammed in so many clients that they wouldn’t let her have more than a 15-minute delay or they would cancel her appointment. However, a facility worker gave Amber a “counseling session” and sold her the abortion pills. Tired from the journey and frustrated at the idea of making the long trip for a second time, Amber agreed. She took the first pill at the abortion facility on August 13. She was nine weeks pregnant.

Ricaria later told media that Amber wanted to get home before the abortion symptoms started. The two of them went home and Amber took the final dose.

Amber would soon learn that chemical abortion was not as safe or convenient as the facility claimed. She was in intense pain and bleeding much more heavily than she was led to expect. Her boyfriend called 911 after she vomited blood and lost consciousness.

At 6:51 P.M. on August 18, Amber was brought to Piedmont Henry Hospital in Stockbridge, Georgia. Her condition mirrored that of others killed by “safe and legal” use of the abortion pill. A pelvic exam and ultrasound indicated that the legal abortion left tissue inside of her, where it decayed and caused sepsis. Her blood pressure was dangerously low from bleeding, her white blood cell count was elevated, and while attempting to use the bathroom she fainted again and hit her head.

After assessing Amber’s condition, doctors started her on an IV drip and antibiotics to combat the sepsis, The OB-GYN who was caring for Amber noted the possibility of doing a D&C the next day. However, her condition badly deteriorated. By 5:14 the next morning, she was having trouble breathing and her blood pressure was still dangerous even after five liters of fluids. Realizing that Amber was even sicker than previously thought, her doctors continued to gather information and increased her antibiotics. They also tested for STDs that could potentially complicate treatment and for pneumonia, which can easily develop in patients with sepsis.

With her blood pressure so low, Amber’s doctors tried to save her by giving her Levophed. This was a powerful blood pressure support medication given because she desperately needed her blood pressure to be stabilized. But even with Levophed, Amber’s blood pressure kept falling. She was admitted to the ICU at 6:45 A.M.

By 7:15, doctors discussed a D&C. However, because of her critical condition and because of how the Levophed affected blood flow, surgery was very risky for Amber. Still, after a specialist in intensive care examined her, it was decided that the risk had to be taken.

In the OR, it was discovered that the sepsis was causing her organs to fail. Amber’s bowel needed to be removed, but because of how her blood flow was affected, it was too dangerous to do so. A surgeon carried out the D&C as planned, but the infection was so bad that Amber also had to have a hysterectomy. Despite the hospital’s efforts, Amber went into cardiac arrest during her surgery. A maternal mortality review noted that her death was preventable.

Once Amber’s case became publicly known, some pro-abortion sources tried to claim that the Georgia abortion ban was what actually killed her. They claimed that Georgia law had criminalized D&C so absolutely that doctors were limited in what they could do to save her life.

This is not true.

First, Amber’s twins were already dead. A procedure to remove a dead baby’s remains or other retained tissue is not medically or legally qualified as an abortion.

Second, the legal text of Georgia’s abortion ban clearly states that even if a treatment could be considered an abortion (which, again, does not apply to removing the remains of a corpse), it is unambiguously legal if needed to preserve the life or health of the mother. The text of the law allows doctors, not politicians, to have the final say in what qualifies. Legally, Amber’s doctors were allowed to give her a D&C at any time— which they did. The claims that the abortion ban forced the doctors to delay the D&C or criminalized it are unfounded. Even ProPublica themselves admitted that “Doctors and a nurse involved in Thurman’s care declined to explain their thinking and did not respond to questions from ProPublica.” In other words, they were only guessing what they thought might have been the motivation.

Amber’s D&C was also performed on the day it was planned. There was no refusal to treat her, and in fact even the article that attempts to paint her as a “victim” of abortion bans admits that surgery was dangerous at that point because of the blood pressure medication— the medication given because her legal abortion made her lose so much blood. Surgery may be delayed for extremely fragile patients, and seeing that multiple experts were being brought in to analyze her case and help the best they could, it is extremely likely that she did not receive surgery sooner because they thought it was more likely to kill than save her. This is especially relevant in a patient with respiratory distress, organ failure and extremely low blood pressure— surgery on someone with highly impacted blood flow poses risks of its own.

Lastly, there is no denying that Amber died from a legal abortion. She was not a criminal— she underwent something she was told was “safe and legal” and still died. The blame for her death rests on the abortion facility that packed in as many women as they could and then risked their lives.

It is also worth noting that in a case like this of abortion pill-induced sepsis, treatment can fail even when everything can be attempted. Given that she was already in severe sepsis when admitted to the hospital, even an immediate D&C (had she been stable enough for one) may have been too late. A similar case, the death of “Jayden Roe,” records an immediate D&C being done on a patient who was much less sick and still died.

But even if, hypothetically, Amber’s doctors delayed an aspect of her treatment needlessly, that would be their fault individually as practitioners, not the fault of a law that clearly allows them to use their own judgement and decide for themselves.

Although Amber was afraid of financial instability, she loved being a mother and frequently posted about how much she loved being with her young son— a son who lost his mother and two siblings to “safe and legal” abortion.

Since becoming publicly known, Amber’s death has been exploited by abortion supporters. All of the social media posts claiming that abortion bans killed her miss a very crucial fact: she died of complications of a fully legal abortion.

[llsadgirl]

Every time I start to feel better, something happens. This morning my gma was taken in the ambulance again because she had sharp pains in her side. She called the ambulance and then my mom. She took a pill that they gave her incase she were to ever have a heart attack again. Almost right after she looked like she was having a seizure but I think she only passed out. Anyway at the start of that I went outside and called 911 again and told them to hurry up. I went back inside and soon a cop came and he waited until the ambulance was here and he helped them. It’s crazy how I can worry myself til I’m sick about stuff like this but in the moment I’m calm.

It wasn’t a heart attack but they took her because her blood pressure was low. And the doctors believe the reason she kinda passed out was because the pill she took lowered her blood pressure but it was already low. I’ll never get the sight of her seizing/passing out out of my head. She has covid which caused some inflammation of the lungs so it hurt when she breathed or moved. They did a CT scan and everything was good. They said her heart was doing great. But everything looks good she just has some more medicine to take which she isn’t happy about but we’re on our way home now.

I feel like I caused this somehow, with all my worrying I somehow manifested it. I don’t believe in a god, and sometimes I feel like I’m being punished for that. I believe in the universe and the universe has helped me a lot. I mention that because for the first time in years I prayed to god today, I asked for my gma to be ok and healthy. I said “I know I don’t believe in you but she does, so do this for her” maybe that did something, I don’t know. I also asked the universe too. Anyway sorry for the long post but I somehow feel better typing that all out.

[ophelia-walsh]

“Momma?” She called out as she entered the familiar penthouse. “Brought some groceries over.” 

It had been three days since she’d last heard from her, but that was normal. The typical clutter hadn’t accumulated as it normally did in the time after Christmas, and for that she was thankful. Holiday season had never been the easiest for her mother, which was far from a secret, but Ophelia had always done the best she could to make it as enjoyable as she’d allow. Secretly, she knew her efforts were in vain, knowing that her mother would never be truly happy until her father would choose her over his wife. Over his family.

Which would never happen. Orla, her father’s wife, had never taken any aspect of their unfortunate situation out on her, though she was the consequence of their continuous illicit affair. She’d never been the warmest towards her, never loving, never a replacement mother, but she’d been tolerated in their household on occasion. Ophelia could handle being tolerated. She couldn’t handle being a burden, the way her mother knew she was, but was forever indifferent about it, continuing to chase what she wanted. 

“Mom?” Ophelia called out again as she turned the corner into the second largest living room. The paper bag fell from her hands, seeing her mother like that. Spilt oat milk on the floor only made it harder for her to run to her, her body thrown onto the couch, her arm tossed over her eyes, pill bottle still in hand. She was Reclining Beauty incarnate, her silk dress draped across her frame, her hair framing her head like a halo, her breathing shallow.

“Oh my god, oh my god,” Ophelia whispered, her voice a mere tremor in the otherwise silent room. Her hands shook as she dialed 911, reciting to the operator the spiel she’d had memorized since she was a child. Address, name, situation. This time, an overdose. Most likely intentional, but she was barely breathing. She needed help right away, and honestly, Ophelia should’ve guessed as much. After all, it was still the holiday season.

✿ ✿ ✿

“This is because of Christmas, isn’t it?” Brian, her father, muttered as he stood beside her. It was almost funny, watching the hulking, stoic man stand there with a comically overflowing bouquet of flowers. Tulips, her mother’s favorite. This year, they were pink. Caring and good wishes. She knew he didn’t really mean it, but he was obligated. His relationship with her mother was a real as the one he had with his wife. Which was to say, not real at all. Ophelia was never blind to that, even in her younger years. As she grew into herself, she became more like her father, less like her mother. She understood him more. She liked that.

She nodded softly in response. Her mascara was streaked down her face, she was sure of it, but she couldn’t be bothered to fix her makeup. She sniffled, ineloquently wiping as her nose with the back of her sleeve. “I think so. Usually is,” she sighed. “She just wants to be included.”

Brian’s lips turned down in thought, though Ophelia wasn’t sure what for. None of this was new, unfortunately, and Ophelia was thankful that her mother had once again survived her attempt on her own life. She was also thankful that this year there was far less blood involved than last.

Her phone was steadily vibrating in her back pocket, surely the group text she had with her half-brothers blowing up in response to the quick text she’d sent, letting them both know at once what had happened. She felt frozen, though. Unable to even silence it for a moment of peace, watching her mother sleep, having just had her stomach pumped less than an hour ago. Resting, peaceful herself, without a care of once again upending the lives of those dear to her. Brian pulled her against him in a half hug. “I’m sorry, little angel,” he whispered, kissing the top of her head.

She tucked herself into him, unable to do much else, willing more tears to come just to feel relief from the annoying pressure pushing behind her eyes. She huffed, watching the sleeping figure of her mother, blessedly alive, through blurry eyes, and whispered back, “So am I.”

[killbaned]

Looking like there may be another 911 call in the cards this week and I'm fucking over this shit. They can come get her and I'll leave my phone on but my ass is not impeding my life to rush the fuck over there because this fully grown adult toddler doesn't want to take her "don't die of a brain bleed" blood pressure pills

[imlershy]

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[helpisawareness-bamiamcolo]

For Parents: Advice about Fentanyl

Fentanyl is a powerful synthetic opioid that can cause fatal overdoses in very small doses. It is often mixed with other drugs or sold as counterfeit pills, making it hard to detect and avoid. Fentanyl is especially dangerous for teens and young adults, who may not be aware of the risks or how to prevent them. Here are some questions and answers about fentanyl and how to protect yourself and your loved ones from its deadly effects.

What is fentanyl and why is it so dangerous?

Fentanyl is a synthetic opioid that is up to 50 times stronger than heroin and 100 times stronger than morphine. It is a prescription drug used to treat severe pain, but it is also illegally made and sold on the streets. Fentanyl can be found in different forms, such as powder, liquid, nasal spray, eye drops, or pills. Some street names for fentanyl are Apache, Dance Fever, Friend, Goodfellas, Jackpot, Murder 8, Tango & Cash.

Fentanyl is so dangerous because it can cause an overdose very quickly and easily. Even a tiny amount of fentanyl can be lethal, especially for someone who has not used opioids before or has a low tolerance. Fentanyl can also be mixed with other drugs like heroin, cocaine, methamphetamine, or marijuana, or made into fake pills that look like prescription opioids. This means that people may not know they are taking fentanyl or how much they are taking. Fentanyl can also interact with other substances, such as alcohol or benzodiazepines, and increase the risk of overdose.

How does fentanyl affect the body and brain?

Fentanyl works by attaching to opioid receptors in the brain and spinal cord, which are involved in pain relief and pleasure. Fentanyl can reduce pain and produce feelings of euphoria, relaxation, and calmness. However, fentanyl can also slow down breathing and heart rate, lower blood pressure, and cause drowsiness, confusion, nausea, vomiting, constipation, and itching. In high doses or when mixed with other drugs, fentanyl can cause respiratory depression, which means that breathing becomes shallow or stops altogether. This can lead to brain damage, coma, or death.

What are the signs of a fentanyl overdose and what should I do if I see one?

Some signs of a fentanyl overdose are:

- Small, constricted "pinpoint pupils"

- Falling asleep or losing consciousness

- Slow, weak, or no breathing

- Choking or gurgling sounds

- Limp body

- Cold and/or clammy skin

- Discolored skin (especially in lips and nails)

If you think someone is overdosing on fentanyl or any other opioid, you should act fast and call 911 immediately. You should also try to keep the person awake and breathing by shaking them gently, rubbing their chest, or giving them rescue breaths if you know how. You should also administer naloxone if you have it available.

What is naloxone and how does it work?                            

Naloxone is a medication that can reverse an opioid overdose by blocking the effects of fentanyl and other opioids on the brain. Naloxone comes in different forms, such as a nasal spray (Narcan), an injection (Evzio), or an auto-injector (Kaleo). Naloxone is safe and easy to use by anyone who has been trained on how to use it. Naloxone can be obtained from pharmacies without a prescription in most states. You can also get naloxone from community organizations that provide overdose prevention services.

If you suspect an opioid overdose, you should follow these steps to use naloxone:

- Call 911 and tell them you are with someone who has overdosed on opioids.

- Check for signs of breathing and a pulse. If there is no breathing or pulse, start CPR if you know how.

- Give naloxone according to the instructions on the package. Spray one dose into one nostril if using Narcan nasal spray; inject one dose into the outer thigh if using Evzio injection; press the device firmly against the outer thigh if using Kaleo auto-injector.

- Continue CPR if needed and wait for naloxone to take effect. It may take 2 to 5 minutes for naloxone to work.

- If there is no response after 2 to 5

Brian D Makowski and  Damien Willburn

[bl6ckr0s3]

Challenging Reality

Leaving off from what I vented last on a video, I was able to see my son over Zoom eventually that late afternoon on Sunday. I didn’t hear back from his father on Saturday night because they went to the beach and got back late in which he could’ve told me rather than for me to be waiting all night wondering. We had a nice video session with him while we were out yesterday doing Uber so it was nice to be able to see him during the early afternoon. 

I realized that at work, I’m going to be working the tray line for a good while because I am replacing what Judy was originally helping with. Her bid is inside the green room by the dock and she’s returning to her assignment. She volunteered to work the tray line for the last several months, but now I am stuck to the job as a new fresh bidder to the 010/020 unit. When I called out twice during the tour 3 schedule, that was it for them. They gave me a 2nd II and then just last Friday they gave me a notice letter of all the dates I called out. My union rep Sean, told me that we can’t allow it to get to step 3 which is a 7 day paid suspension, because what comes after that is a 14 day non-paid suspension and then they will fire you. I don’t have any medical documentation since I don’t have no fucking health insurance or money to see the doctor here, and what documentation would they expect to see when the human body is struggling to stay awake on a night shift? I been told many people has called off on that job shift, so I dunno. I been showing up to work every day since then, but they should see that I been able to show up to work just fine during tour 3 shift. It’s definitely been a lot better and more relieving for me knowing that I get off work around the time I was barely just coming to work on the old shift. 

Last 4th of July was a horrible holiday. We didn’t even get to enjoy it. We showed up at the show early around 2:18pm. There were already old fat people camping out on folding chairs and umbrellas in which we made a dumb choice not to bring. I assumed that it was going to be an overcast weather even though it was so fuckin hot & humid. Knowing that it was a good chance of rain that day, we still stood under the hot sun with no shade for 2-3 hours. Eventually the heat fucked us up and we had to leave. I only had a chance to shoot the first opening band then we had to leave because Joshua started having a panic attack. We thought he was going through a heat stroke at first, but it turns out that his body was having a panic attack right after we ate McD’s. We were trying to cool off from being exposed in the heat and then we had to call 911 to take him to the hospital because he was scared & didn’t know what to do. That was when it began raining. I was pissed that it began raining right after we left the show because we really wanted to stay to see Brad Praisley for free. How often does free shows like that happen? Well if we get lucky and get another chance to see a show like that again, it will happen. This was the 2nd time Brad did a free show like this, of course with tons of sponsors in town which was what helped make the free show happened. It’s just too bad it wasn’t inside a big venue instead of being out in the fucking heat. 

When the ambulance took Joshua to the hospital, I followed behind the ambulance truck, but damn they drove pretty fast in the hard rain storm. Thankfully, I was able to find the right hospital they dropped off Joshua at, and I had to wait awhile before I was able to go in to see him. It’s just weird that they said that everything looked good with his vitals, blood pressure, heart, etc. It turned out that he had a panic attack. The heat on top of the junk food that we had for lunch was what triggered it on 4th of July. Yesterday, his panic attack came in again during a delivery and he drove us back to the hospital to see a doctor again. They finally prescribed some anxiety pills for him to take, but the energy drink that he got from the gas station was what triggered his panic attack yesterday. I threw away the drink in the trash can at a Taco Bell while he was using the restroom, I brought some water for him to see if it would calm down his anxiety. Anyways, he needed medication for his anxiety and stress for the longest time, now this was the only time he was forced to accept the fact that he needed medication. He really hates medication, but I told him as long as we both know that we are people who don’t abuse that kind of stuff, use it for what it’s for. We ended up picking up 2 medications yesterday before getting lunch from Arby’s and returning home. He was already drowsy and slurring from the Dramamine that he took on top of the 2 medicines they gave him at the hospital. Just like I predicted, he passed the fuck out right after we ate. He fell asleep with the vape in his hand, I was up for a little bit then I decided to take a nap with him. I woke up around 9 or 11pm and was playing my Ants game before falling back asleep for another few hours. Last night, when Joshua woke up around 1am, he thought it was the afternoon when it was really still night time. We were up this morning and left around 8am back to the Walgreens because he didn’t check the medication that we picked up from Walgreens later to find out that he didn’t pick up the most important one, Xanex which is the important pill only meant for emergencies if his panic attack comes back while his body has to break in the other medication that he will be on daily for the month. 

I have to make a phone call to Sean and he wants to 3 way speak with one of the reps of the APWU to make sure they are no longer taking my money from my check. I plan on looking into applying for medical thru the union so that I can have insurance here in Tennessee as well as maybe have a chance to put Joshua on my plan so that he can at least have some kind of insurance coverage for once. I notice with union medical insurance, they seem to allow employees to put domestic partners on their plan which is great. Only the federal employee health benefits only allow married spouses to be placed on the plan, but it’s fine. Once the APWU cancels my union dues and disability insurance plan, I can apply for a medical plan for the NMHPU to have insurance in Tennessee and still keep my Federal benefits in California to keep my son covered. I have to make sure I bring my attendance back up to good standing and start requesting days off ahead of time when I need a day off.

I ended up having to push my counseling session meeting towards the beginning of August since my counselor is going on vacation towards the end of July. The appointments have all been booked until she returns from her vacation. That will give me plenty of time to fill out the forms I need to turn back in to her, but I need to find time to print those forms out at a Staples or Office Max so that I can fill them out before my first meeting with Ivy Jeffries. 

If I get lucky, I may be able to still keep my job if I don’t fuck up my attendance anymore. I normally don’t call out a lot like I have when I was on tour 1, but that’s the whole fucking reason I bid out to tour 3. I got shit going on, if they don’t give a fuck they can go fuck themselves. I know I may not end up being with this company forever. If my dream comes true, I may not have to retire with this job as sad as it sounds that I moved out of California for a better life. I been with the company for 11 years. Sean knows that I am a good worker and that he will do what he can to help me.

[trashbinmuses]

HEADCANON: Charlotte takes pills for anxiety ( And later on high blood pressure. ) For a long time she denied that she had anxiety because she was in the mindset that it was weakness and strong woman don't get anxiety. Hiding her panic attacks for so long, until one day she as one so bad she ends up calling 911 because she thinks she's having a heart attack / dying. It wasn't long before she's on medication. Of course, she still in deny and refuses to take them- once again she goes through a bad panic attack in from of Angelica and of course, the little girl is terrified and thinks her mom is dying / hurt. That's when Charlotte realizes this isn't just about her but Angelica too. That she needs to be a positive rollmodel for her, so that she doesn't end up pushing those those feelings down / internalize it.

[rubix-writings]

Punisher Pt. 4

Fourth part of Punisher. This is a Chicago PD/Fire imagine with an original character. I don’t own any of the plot points or characters from the show. Also, it doesn’t follow any particular season or sequence in the shows.

Series Summary: Josephine (Jo) never expected to find support and pure love when she left Los Angeles. She ran away to Chicago and was content with living an insignificant, hidden life. But everything changes when she walks into Molly’s to get a job.

Josephine (OC) x Jay Halstead

The italicized lines are internal thoughts of the character.

Warnings: language, mentions of drinking, blood, mentions of violence/attack, long (!)

“Jo, can you get that order ready? I have to go do inventory in the back,” Hermann asks. His silver eyeglasses are perched on the bridge of his nose, the reflection of the paperwork on his clipboard plays across his lenses. I nod and start to pour a few glasses of wine to take over to the table in the back corner. A few weeks passed since my first day and Hermann and Stella have started to trust with a lot more responsibility around the bar. It’s been great getting closer with the regulars and I’ve even stopped by the firehouse to have lunch with everyone a few times. I pick up some empties on my way back to the bar and start to wash the used glasses. It was a pretty quiet night and the crowd has only thinned out as the night went on. 

“Hey Jo, how’s loverboy?” Emily insinuated. I met Emily and Silvie during one of my first shifts and they really latched onto Jay’s and my relationship, or lack thereof. We ended up having a few drinks after my shift on the same day Jay dropped me off at Molly’s. The way I feel when I’m with Jay is new, something I’ve never experienced before. When Jay is around I feel….. Safe. It’s like I can fully be myself, there are no eggshells to tiptoe around. 

“He’s at the table near the door, why don’t you go ask him?” I ask. 

“Oh please, you must have noticed how Jay likes to hang around Molly’s, but really only during your shifts,” Emily whispers.

“And how he’ll stay late on the nights you’re closing up,” Silvie lowers her voice to match Emily’s. I pause cleaning and lean onto the bartop in front of them.

“You guys just described yourselves,” I whisper back. 

“That’s not true, we are here… an average amount,” Emily fights back, but not really believing it. Silvie says nothing, but I can tell by the way her eyes are moving that she’s trying to do the math. I smirk and say nothing. They’re not wrong about the amount of time Jay spends at the bar. Sometimes he comes in with a few members of the Intelligence Unit or with Will, but he always spends time at the bar to talk. And then there are the times he’s come in alone and sat on the same stool all night to ensure his spot is saved. But I’ve tried to not think about it if I’m being completely honest. A part of me feels like I’m crossing a line I’ll never be able to step back, I’m supposed to be hidden, flying below the radar. I’ve really tried, people have offered to hang out on my days off or grab drinks and I always turn them down. I could never live with myself if any of these people got hurt because of me. I keep telling myself that I have everything exactly how I want it, but that is a big fat lie and I have no interest in fixing it. 

“Hey Jo, can I close out?” the breath in my lungs immediately dissipates. Jay really is punch you in the gut kind of beautiful. 

“Yeah, course,” I move further down the bar to the register. “How’s Will doing these days?”

“He’s good, the long shifts are killing him, but other than that he’s good.”

“Well maybe you shouldn't keep him out this late,” he smirks and hands me his credit card.

“Yeah, probably shouldn’t. He’s just being a good brother,” I hand Jay his receipts to sign. 

“Will you come around tomorrow?” Really smooth, that didn’t sound too eager at all.

“Can’t sadly, I pulled the short straw of late shift patrol.”

“Wow, how’d you get so lucky?” He hands me back the signed copy. 

“It’s a gift I guess. At least I’ll be with Adam, you remember him right?” Adam Ruzek, probably one of the tallest men I’ve ever seen. It’s hard to forget him since he acts like a teenage boy trapped in a man’s body. I smile and nod at Jay’s question. “Yeah, so at least I’ll have someone to talk to.”

“How are him and Kim doing, still on the outs?”

“Yeah. Hey don’t let me regret spilling that to you,” he taps his knuckles on the wooden bartop. 

“First, I’m offended. I’m an excellent secret keeper. Second, maybe it should be harder than a couple of beers for a detective to start disclosing secrets,” I shrug. 

“It’s called confiding actually.”

“Oh is that right,” I smile.

“Yes. I’m sorry, I have to go. I’ll see you around Jo,” Jay starts backing away towards the front door. 

“Bye Jay.”

Is it too serious to tell him to stay safe? The words were on the tip of my tongue, ready to be dropped, but it never came. I look to the girls at the other end of the bar who give me a look of victory from Jay’s and my interaction. I simply roll my eyes and get back to work. 

****

My eyes are barely staying open as I park my car in front of my apartment building. That’s right, I have a car. A real shitty one to match my apartment. It does provide some comfort knowing that it’ll never get broken into. The frigid air does very little to wake me up, my body is deeply craving sleep. Between the double shift today and the closing shifts the nights before, I haven’t gotten enough sleep to say the least. My feet slowly trudge up the creaking stairs, for some reason someone years ago thought it would be a good idea to paint them white, but never did any touch ups and just left it to chip and fade over time. The ceiling in my apartment was “fixed” a week ago, but by the looks of it I wouldn’t be surprised if it dropped again. 

“Time for sleep,” I smile lazily. I plug my phone in to charge and go to the closet to hang up my coat. My bed has never looked so inviting, hell my water ruined coach looks like a good place to sleep right about now. I start to brush my teeth when I hear a muffled yell. I pause and wait for it to reoccur, but after a few seconds I start to believe it’s my tired mind playing tricks. 

“Help….please,” it’s so faint that if you weren’t looking for it you’d miss the outcry. A loud crash follows which causes the adrenaline to course through my veins and bolt out of my apartment. A woman lays in the hallway, I look to the stairs and the vibrant blood clashes with the white stairs and banister. She groans and tries to move.

“Hey, don’t move,” I say as softly as I can. I take off the hoodie that I always wear under my coat and start to push it under her head as a makeshift pillow. Her eyes flutter closed, but she doesn’t try to move anymore. I start to get up from my knees and her hand quickly snatches my forearm.

“Please don’t leave me,” her voice is hoarse. This is the first time I really look at her face that’s covered in blood and cuts. Her eyes are hollow and tired. I look down to her hand that’s also covered in blood, there’re cuts across her knuckles. She fought back. 

“I’ll be right back, I just need to get my phone. Just relax, you’re safe,” I had no place to tell her how to feel, but once she loosens her grip I take full advantage and run to my phone to call 911. As I’m explaining the events to the dispatcher I take the rolls of gauze and first aid kit from my apartment with me to the hallway. 

“What’s your name?” My voice is calm, I start to try and wrap the injuries bleeding the most. 

“Eve,” her voice faint and weak. 

“Hi Eve, I’m Jo. You’re not alone okay? I’m not leaving you,” she nods slightly keeping her eyes closed. “The police are coming.” Once I finish wrapping the wounds on her face, I start to look over the rest of her body to see if anything needs immediate attention. Her upper arm was slashed and she was stabbed in the leg which is basically gushing. They might’ve nicked the artery. As fast as I can without putting her in too much pain I wrap up her arm and start pilling on copious amounts of gauze to her leg wound. The bright red liquid stains the used gauze and my hands as it can’t be stopped by the gauze alone. I start to undo my belt and wrap it above the wound.

“Eve, this is going to hurt, but I need you to stay still so I can stop the bleeding okay?” she groans in response. Her skin is almost as pale as the white wooden floor. I leave her for one last time to get a wooden spoon from my kitchen. I start the tourniquet and try to push away Eve’s cries of pain. “I know, I’m sorry,” she doesn’t respond. Once the tourniquet is in place I get more gauze to put pressure on the wound. 

“Police! Call Out!” I’ve never felt so relieved to hear those words.

“Up here! Hurry!” I shout back. 

“Holy shit.”

“Jo?” My head snaps up to Jay’s face. 

“Jay, help her,” my exhaustion slowly defeating the adrenaline in my body. 

“I got this Jo,” Adam moves to put pressure on the leg wound. I slide back to lean against the wall.

“Jo, what happened?” Jay’s face directly in front of mine. I’ve never seen his eyes this close up before, there’s so many blues thrown together.

“I heard her yell for help, I think she fell down the stairs,” Jay follows my gaze to the stained stairs behind him. “Her name is Eve,” he nods and pulls away to talk into his radio. 

“Eve, Eve, can you hear my sweetheart?” Adam yells to Eve, she winces in response. “The ambulance should be here in a minute, just hold on okay?” Eve’s eyes flutter open and frantically look for me. 

“Hey, I’m right here. I’m not leaving,” I walk and practically collapse on the other side of her. Her bloody hand finds mine like it’s her only lifeline. 

“Ruzek, I’m going to clear the rest of the building. Jo stay with Adam,” normally I would fight and tell Jay to not go alone, but my body is gradually fading. 

“We’re good man, go,” Adam urges. “Jo, you okay there darling?” his voice sounds morphed in my mind. 

“Yeah I’m fine,” Adam reaches for his radio, I watch him talk but nothing comes out of his mouth. I shake my head to try and get my mind straight. 

“Paramedics!” 

“Up here guys!” Adam yells back. “Eve, the medics are here, you’re gonna be okay.”

“What do we got?” One medic asks, Adam takes it upon himself to explain the prior events as best as he can from the information I gave him earlier. I release Eve’s hand and move so the medics can help her, she seems to understand because Eve doesn’t fight me moving away. It felt like an out of body experience watching them try and save Eve. 

“There’s a blood trail leading a few floors up, went into the apartment it started from but it’s empty. Cars are on their way to secure the scene,” Jay is back, but I don’t look at him. “Hey Jo, why don’t you sit down?” Jay grabs my arms and gently leads me to a clean stair to sit. “What’s the ETA on that second ambulance?”

“Two minutes,” one medic answers while removing my sweatshirt from under Eve’s head to get her on the back board. 

“Second ambulance?” I ask.

“Yeah, just to check you out really quick. You might be going into shock,” Jay responds softly.

“I’m fine, just really tired,” my voice is barely above a whisper.

“Just in case, okay? Here,” Jay takes off his CPD bomber jacket and wraps it around my shoulders. 

“Jay give us a hand,” Adam calls while grabbing hold of one side the back board that holds Eve. 

“Yeah. Stay right here, I’ll be right back,” Jay rubs my back before getting up from the stair and helping get Eve down the stairs to the ambulance. I rest my head against the wall as my body enters full crash mode. I just want to sleep. “Jo, come on let’s go get you checked out,” Jay helps put my arms through the correct holes of his jacket and leads me down the steps to outside.

The steel of the ambulance is cold against my butt. A woman with red hair and bright green eyes starts taking my vitals. The blue and red lights of the cop cars light up the entire street. People are bringing a ton of equipment into my apartment building, whoever was sleeping in the building isn’t anymore. 

“Well everything looks good. Her body is crashing from all the adrenaline, so she’ll need some good rest, but other than that she’s fine,” the medic tells Jay. 

“Thanks Terry,” Jay replies before taking a seat next to me. He hands me a water bottle, I accept it with my blood stained hand. I should be acting more freaked out about the blood, but I’m too tired to lie. 

“You did a great job in there. You a nurse or something?” Terry asks me.

“Um, no,” I leave it at that. Like I said, I’m too tired to lie. A guy that’s mildly balding with a thick beard appears from around the corner of the ambulance. He has a massive camera balanced around his neck. 

“I need to take photos,” he says plainly. 

“Photos?” I ask confused. 

“C’mon man, can’t you give her a second to breathe?” Jay defends.

“You know the protocol Detective,” there’s no life in his words. I place the water bottle on the ambulance steel and take off Jay’s jacket. The man positions my hands to take photos for evidence. After he’s satisfied with the photos of my hands he starts to circle and take pictures of my clothes, the fact he does it silently makes me uncomfortable. I think Jay feels the same way since he wraps me again in his black jacket and tells the rude man that’s enough. Jay leads me back to my apartment. The building is full of officers and lab techs, the whole place is a crime scene. Jay and I don’t talk till we get inside my apartment. A part of me is embarrassed that he has to see my shitty apartment, but it’s quickly pushed away. 

“Do you know her?” Jay asks.

“No, but I don’t know anyone in this building,” I answer honestly. “I try to keep to myself.” 

“You can wash your hands,” I nod and move to the kitchen to start scrubbing the dried blood from my hands. “Maybe, you shouldn’t stay here tonight.”

“If you’re worried about the noise, I’m way too tired to care. Besides, this building has never been safer with all the cops crawling around,” I try to joke. 

“I have an extra bedroom Jo, it would be no trouble,” he pushes. 

“Thank you, but I’m fine. I promise,” the skin on my hands is just about raw once all the blood is off. I let my hands stay under cold water to try and ease the pain. “Um, will you let me know what you find out about Eve? Let me know if she’s gonna be okay.”

“Yeah. I’ve heard you’re a good secret keeper.”

“Thanks,” I hand him back his jacket. Jay smiles and hesitantly moves toward the door. 

“Before I go, at least take this,” he hands me his business card. “Call me if you don’t feel comfortable staying here, I’ll come pick you up.”

“Okay, yeah,” my fingers run over the raised lettering across the card. Without another word, Jay leaves. I lock the door and make my way to my room to finally get some long overdue sleep. I don’t look at the time, I know that won’t help me. The muffled talking and walking from outside my apartment gradually lull me to a deep sleep. 

A slight vibration slowly brings me out of my nightly slumber. I never plugged my phone in to charge after the events of last night, it’s settled next to me by my pillow. I have three missed calls from Hermann. It’s almost noon, but I’m still tired. I call back Hermann knowing he’s probably freaking out since I haven’t answered.

“Hey kid!” His immense energy brings a smile to my face.

“Hi Hermann, everything okay?” 

“Yeah, we’re good. I heard about last night, how are you?” Of course he did. 

“Yeah I’m good, still trying to wrap my head around it, I guess.”

“Of course. How about when you’re up for it you stop by Molly’s I want to ask you something.” “I can be there in an hour,” Hermann and I exchange our goodbyes. I groan spills out of my lips as I stretch my arms above my head. Once I finally move from my bed, I immediately go to shower, something I probably should’ve done last night. The boiling water feels euphoric against my skin and the steam cleans out my mind. I need to come up with a story with details to explain last night. There’s no way that people won’t push like they did last night, I was given space because of the tragic event. A dull pain flows down my legs as I clean the new bruises on my knees. I didn’t realize how hard I slammed my knees on the hardwood in the hall last night. Once I pull myself from the warm confides of the shower I have to rush to put on jeans and a sweater before being late to meet with Hermann. I don’t have time to blow dry my hair so I throw it up in a bun before grabbing my keys and running to my car. The hallways and stairs are covered in black dust from fingerprinting, it’s surprising how quickly they cleaned everything up. 

Luckily, there’s a free spot not too far from Molly’s. It’s decently full for a Saturday afternoon. The inside heat is slowly thawing my frozen hair and face from the freezing wind. 

“Jo, you want a cup of coffee?” Hermann is the only one behind the bar and I’m very grateful for that. 

“Yes please,” I sit at one of the stools and welcome the hot cup of coffee. 

“How’re you doing?” Hermann comes around the bartop to take the seat next to me. 

“I’m good, still a bit tired if I’m honest.”

“Yeah, what happened last night must’ve really taken it out of you.”

“I didn’t realize that all first responders are such gossips,” I take a sip of the hot coffee. 

“Oh the worst,” he laughs. “I’m not good about beating around the bush so I’ll just go right into it. I have an apartment above my garage. It was meant for my mother-in-law but she had to move into assisted living.”

“That’s - good for you?” I’m confused. 

“I think you should move in there. It’ll -”

“Oh Hermann I don’t think so, I have a place.”

“I know, but it’s a scene of a crime. They still haven’t found the person who did that to that poor girl. You can pay rent if that makes you feel better, and we don’t even have to see each other. It’s that separate from the main house. Look from what Jay said I don’t think it would be good for you to stay there,” Hermann’s eyes grow wide as we realizes he gave away his source. 

“Jay? Was this his idea?” Hermann stutters trying to find a way out of the hole he dug for Jay. “Great, I’ll see you tomorrow Hermann. Thanks for the offer,” I abandon the rest of the coffee and get up to leave Molly’s.

“Hey kid, it may not have been my idea but we would love to have you,” Hermann expresses sincerely. The anger that was boiling inside of me settles at his kind words for a moment.

“Thanks, I’ll let you know,” he nods and makes no effort to stop me from storming out of the bar this time. Once I enter the cold streets I’m met with a few members of the Intelligence Unit including the perpetrator himself, Jay Halstead. I exchange short greetings with each one before they head inside. 

“Hey how are you doing?” Jay says once everyone is gone. 

“Fine. I would ask you the same thing, but you must be tired since you’ve been so busy,” Jay furrows his brows.

“What? What are you talking about Jo?”

“I just had a really interesting conversation with Hermann. About my living situation. That you instigated,” I start to walk towards my car, ready to leave Jay without another word.

“Jo, please. Let me explain -” I spin around so fast it almost makes me dizzy. 

“No. Do you think that shitty apartment in a horrific neighborhood was my first choice? But I’m doing this on my own for once.”

“You don’t have to do this on your own.”

“Yeah well I also don’t need people making my choices for me. Goodbye Jay,” I turn and walk towards my car. Never in my life did I wish I was getting into a Lexus more than right now.

Tags (hopefully I did this right!) - @whit85-blog​

[whump-town]

Heart Attack

This one goes out to whoever said “death. this is how i confess love”. 

I will write the other fic as well 

Warning: Major Character Death (rip my favorite big old idiot)

The initial weakness in his left arm is not noteworthy. The deep ache, daggers shooting from the inside of his wrist to the clavicle, are sadly not either. Chronic pain is just a part of his daily life and after the ugly, deep scars Foyet left on his forearms, not even simple movements are free. He’s always assumed Foyet put them, the long slashed scars that look nearly self-inflicted, there just for show, claiming him perhaps but certainly to maim. Doesn’t matter right much now, all he knows for certain is that it hurts and there’s nothing he can do about it.

It happens so frequently that it nearly slips his mind-- as much as pain can but what he really means is that the coffee in his hand slips. He’s standing in the kitchen, contemplating taking an Advil to at least dull the pain enough to better concentrate on the book he’s been trying to finish since Friday. “Fuck.” His left hand just releases the mug. He liked that mug. Advil it is.

His days pass in quiet contemplation. Just him and these beige walls. He misses the days that were filled by Jack’s toddling steps, rampant little footsteps, and happy squeals of delight. Coming home to the sound of some new band Jack’s conjured up and is going to torture him with for the next week until he moves on to the next. He misses Emily and Dave and having drinks on his couch. Being forced to go to Dave’s for family dinners and Emily coming by, uninvited, of course, to eat his ice cream and make fun of his documentaries.

Now he’s alone most of the time. Well, unless Jessica coming by to count to his pills counts. He doesn’t really think it should but she means well. Someone has to make sure he doesn’t just die on them but would they even notice?

Not immediately, not for a while.

Maybe if something strange happens on a case but those calls come less and less frequently. No one needs his specific knowledge. Emily is becoming an assured leader and she doesn’t even call him to fuss about the idiots that he hired and left her to deal with. He and Dave don’t really talk anymore. The best he gets, these days, is a quick update if someone gets hurt just so that he doesn’t worry if it pops up on the news.

Jack is off at college now. Hotch can’t blame him for being fairly radio silent but it does give him something to work with every few weeks when Jack does remember that he exists and sends a thousand-odd texts his way.

So, if he just… died no one would notice until Jessica’s Thursday visit. Even then, she’s just here to look at the pillbox he leaves on the counter for her easy access. She just checks what she has to and leaves. Life goes on.

As he’s crouched on his kitchen floor, mumbling very inappropriate and obscenity-ridden things, he feels that lightheaded fog encroach. Something that he really only knows from other encounters, one that he doesn’t associate with immediate danger. He takes a fist-full of medication each morning and roughly two list lightheadedness as a side-effect. While a dangerous fallout of Foyet’s stabbing is this strange platelet problem that messes with his iron. So while he sits for a moment and breathes through the feeling of his body trying to give out on him he assumes this problem is what it always is: his awful health.

He gets the coffee cleaned up with a towel but leaves the towel over the broken bits of the mug. The cartilage in his knees saw better days roughly twenty-years ago and by the time that the coffee has been contained, he can hardly stand the pain in them. So, guiding himself with a hand on the counter (then leaning on the wall and using a kitchen chair and so on and so forth until he gets to the couch) Hotch limps away from the kitchen.

He’s never been so thankful for his habitual manners as he sinks into the cozy couch and finds his heated blanket already plugged in and sitting on the lowest heat. A fire hazard? Yeah probably but if this damned blanket kills him one day then so be it. He finds some background noise in a nature documentary about penguins and closes his eyes, waiting for the blanket’s heat to soothe his old bones.

Despite how far he’s pushed himself down into the blanket, his body breaks out in a cold sweat. His chest tight and arm throbbing or maybe stabbing-- he can’t tell the difference right now just blinded by the pain. Blind and so stupid and as he sits up, shaking he’s shivering so hard, he knows what’s happening.

Haley used to dismiss his fears with soothing promises. She wouldn’t let something like this happen to him. They’d get old together “so old we start to wish one of us would just die and get it over with but every day I’ll turn over in our bed and find your craggy, old face right beside me and I know I’d still love you so much it hurts”. But Haley died before she even turned forty and he’s spent too many birthdays and anniversaries alone to know she couldn’t have meant that.

Drunk, vulnerable with the recent loss of Haley and the sudden return of Emily he’d admitted to this fear. Not just dying alone but of dying like his father-- a hated bastard on the outside with no family and no loved ones. To paint the wall with the horror in Dave and Emily’s face could stand as a solid reminder that he is loved but those faces mean nothing. The way that Emily had hugged him that night is nothing. Despite their assurances, he can feel his heart skipping beats. Painful kicks, each one.

He is alone. Gasping as he struggles to fight off his anxiety and crying through the agony ripping chest. Alone. Curled down into himself to try and find some comfort.

He manages to call 911. As he’s blinking tears from his eyelashes there’s a moment where the only number he can think of is Garcia. For years her number was his emergency number and now … He’s still thinking about her when the operator picks up but he’s losing his functions so fast. Settling back on the couch, using what’s left of his energy to tuck his feet back under his black he does his best to stay awake and hum in response to questions.

He thinks about Garcia. She’s always there, he finds, in his mind and every accident he’s had. Even during Boston despite the fact that she just joined the BAU. She’s always there and he wonders if she’ll appear this time. Talk his ear off about David Bowe but hold his hand tight enough that he never has to question if she’s really there.

Heart attacks hurt a lot worse than internal bleeding but he’d, personally, still put it under being actually stabbed.

He doesn’t hear the paramedics arrive or even feel the IV being placed in his arm. Though unconscious, he gives the faintest whimper of discontent as he’s lifted and pulled away from the couch. Not given the chance to brace for the cold winter air of March in Virginia just moving and moving fast.

“Agent Hotchner?”

He groans, turning his head from the penlight shining down in his face. Though he moves his face, he can’t escape the tight pressure across his ribs. Constricting tightly. The agent bit catches him by surprise-- he’s been “Mr” now for some time. Very few people still throw the “agent” in there.

“There you are--”

The sirens make it hard to hear. His hearing has been going for some time but if there’s one thing he can take from this encounter it might be that he should invest in the hearing aids he’s been putting off for a while now. He blinks up at the woman talking to him. Gently pumping a blood pressure cuff around his bicep and calling his name when his eyes slide back shut. He does try to stay awake but he’s in a lot of pain and he’s tired. Even retired he doesn’t get much sleep.

He’ll have to remember to tell JJ that. She’s always worried about his sleep schedule (or lack thereof) and thought, or rather hoped, his retirement would bring him the chance to finally catch up on two decades’ worth of lost sleep. She’ll be disappointed but not surprised.

It’ll give him a reason to reach out, to talk with them.

“Stay with me, Agent Hotchner.”

The world rocks and something that taste like plastic is placed over his face, wrapped around the back of his head.

“Deep breathes, you’re doing just fine.”

The cold air hits his sternum and his eye fly open, panicking as hands touch his bare skin. Oh, God. Foyet. I have to stop-- someone much stronger than him grabs his wrist. Two hands push his shoulders down into the gurney and he can’t fight. Can’t move.

“Agent Hotchner,” someone tries to calm him. “We’re trying to help you. I understand you’re in a lot of pain--”

He wants to go home. Away from the cold and the hands that keep touching him. “Dave?” he pants, turning his head and searching through the hazy mess of people. He cries softly, tears stinging his face as they slide down his face. He wants to recognize one person, to know one of the hands belongs to someone he trusts. Dave is okay. He likes it when Dave touches him. It’s calming and reassuring and he wants someone to call Dave. “Please,” he whimpers, curling his legs as he feels someone tear the worn fabric of his jeans. “No. No.”

He’s confused and he’s in pain and he wants all these people to stop touching him.

“Aaron--”

No, no he doesn’t like that. He cries out, failing to dislodge the hands as he kicks out. All his height, all the power he’s spent decades learning to command is useless. “I want to go home,” he rasps desperately. He can’t move, anymore. They’re holding him down and he can feel the drugs pumping into his arm. Too cold and too fast and it all hurts. Why are they hurting him?

“Just stay with us, Agent. We’re almost done and then--”

For the first time in nearly twenty years, all of his pain just is gone. He feels nothing for a blissful second. Around him, there’s a panic. The machines attached to him frantically going off as his heartbeat goes from rampant, wrong to gone. The pain comes back suddenly, sharper than before, and he turns his head with a moan as his lungs contract painfully. He coughs, rasping as his chest heaves.

He slips back under the haze but this time the pain stays.

He chokes as they try to intubate, fighting weekly but he’s too far gone to even move away from the touch anymore. Dave isn’t there. He wishes Dave were here. Dave always cups the side of his head, speaking in soft Italian that he’s never managed to pick up. But it’s soft and gentle and Dave. Garcia doesn’t hold his hand-- she always holds his hand. There’s not the soft scent of lavender that comes in with the hard rain that is Emily Prentiss. No one to jostle him for his carelessness and then crawl up into the bed with him. Reminding him of memories he’s nearly forgotten of when they were just kids.

No Jack.

Jack’s at college.

He comes in at 9:45 a.m.

By 10:15 a.m. there’s a doctor over his chest. A nurse makes quick work of trying to get a hold of a medical proxy. There’s a kid, he has a son, but there’s no contact information listed for him. She gets voicemail twice from the numbers that are listed.

Jessica is in a meeting. Her phone is on silent. It wouldn’t have mattered if she’d had her phone. He’s thirty minutes away and his heart gives out only twenty minutes after he arrives at the hospital.

Dave is in Seattle, sitting in a puddle of rainwater and trying to contain his anger as Luke changes a tire on the SUV. His phone is too wet to work. He won’t get the news until nearly two hours later when he and Luke arrive back at the precinct. Emily will not cry for nearly a week after she gets the news. She tells Jack.

The doctors assure them that there was nothing they could have done. It was a freak accident. They always knew this was a possibility, an outcome that was very real with the amount of damage done to Aaron’s heart. It’s been broken so many times… And standing in that hospital, shivering under the intensity of the air conditioning and the white burning paint, they are left with the burden of knowing he protected them tell the very end.

But they never reciprocated that care.

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[toosicktoocare]

like father, like son

Spoilers for 911 Lone Star below!

A fic no one asked for: TK winds up sick because he’s not sleeping well since learning about his dad’s diagnosis and because he’s pushing himself too hard to be a better son. (Also, Carlos doesn’t really vibe with fever sex.) 

The dreams don’t actually start until a few days after his talk with his dad, after a moment of pure, unfiltered vulnerability spanning from one to the other, but when they do finally start to plague his sleep, they’re terrifying, encompassing his every fear into twisted images of dirty hospitals, blood splashing against walls from violent coughs, two large, decaying organs pressing against him, suffocating him, and his father, withering away before his eyes.

After jerking awake in a cold sweat two nights in a row, TK forgoes sleep because he would much rather take fatigue any day over the spoiled visuals that seem to stain his thoughts, even when he’s awake. He, instead, takes to the internet when he should be resting, researching the side effects of chemo, what to look out for, what dialogue could cause potential triggers, and the most important, the one he’s most determined to achieve by any means necessary, how to care for a cancer patient. 

He sleeps only a little, catching one to three hours a day but subconsciously not allowing his body to slip into REM, and his growing exhaustion goes relatively unnoticed until he wakes at three am after nodding off in a chair in his room with a medical book on his lap to a scratchy throat and a slight hint of pressure pushing behind his eyes. 

He slips to his feet, quietly resting the book on the chair, and he pads softly across his room to the bathroom, flicking the lights on with a wide yawn. His reflection leaves much to be desired, a pale, drawn man with deep purple bags under his eyes staring back at him. 

“Shit,” he mutters, a low whistle, almost impressed with how terrible he’s managed to look, but then he’s turning to cough lightly into the crook of his arm until he’s wincing from the uncomfortable tingle that almost burns against his throat. He hunches over the sink, splashing cool water on his face, and then he’s reaching for the ibuprofen, but when he can hear gagging from his dad’s bedroom, he drops the pill bottle, the loud clattering and rolling fading in the distance as he races out his room. 

“Dad?” He shoves his dad’s bathroom door open to see him curled around the toilet, shoulders shaking slightly. The panic in his eyes fades to sympathetic concern, a look he’s been sporting far too much over the last few days, and he crouches beside his dad, dropping a hand to his back to feel his muscles convulsing under his palm. Wincing, he smooths his palm up and down his dad’s back, repeating the action, just as his dad would do for him, until Owen’s finally reaching up to flush the toilet with a groan. 

“Sorry I woke you,” Owen rasps out, and TK’s eyes fall just a little. 

“You didn’t,” he reassures, spitting out a quick lie when Owen frowns at him. “I was already up. Had to piss.” 

“Creepy timing,” Owen says around a weak laugh. “Didn’t realize my stomach and your bladder were in sync.” 

Rolling his eyes, TK gets to his feet, reaching a hand out toward Owen. “You’re so weird,” he mutters when Owen’s hand finds his. He pulls him to his feet, a frown threatening to pull at his lips at the ease. His dad’s been dropping weight, and for just a moment, he’s almost pulled back to too-vivid images, but he shakes his head, willing the fear away. 

“You done?”

He keeps close to his dad when he sidesteps around him to the sink to rinse his mouth out, eyes trained to the slight tremor in his dad’s steps. 

“Yeah,” Owen groans, frowning at his reflection, and TK meets his eyes through the mirror. They share a silent conversation. They’ve been doing that a lot since they talked, neither knowing how to verbally convey what their eyes are practically screaming. 

“Are you alright?” Owen finally asks, turning from TK’s pale reflection to see if it’s merely a trick of the light or if his son truly looks ill. His frown deepens, concern taking over his forehead in deep worry lines, when TK’s poor image appears to not be just a trick of the mirror. “You look exhausted.” 

“I’m fine,” TK says easily, and he doesn’t fight it when Owen reaches the back of his hand to his forehead, only watching with a gaze that’s almost struggling to be patient. 

“You don’t feel feverish,” Owen mutters, stepping back to asses his son with a long, studious gaze, taking in the dark circles colored under his eyes, his slumped posture, and his almost sunken face. “Have you been sleeping?”

TK makes to answer, to reassure his dad that he’s completely fine, but Owen continues, not letting him sneak a word in. 

“I know it can be hard to shut your mind off, especially after learning about all of this.” He gestures weakly toward himself. “But, we can tell your therapist--” 

“Dad,” TK groans, turning toward the door. “I said I’m fine.” ‘I’m not the one with cancer’ is what he wants to follow with, but the mere thought stabs at his chest like a dagger that’s on fire, so, instead, he looks over his shoulder, smiling softly. “Stop worrying about me and go get more rest, old man.” 

The smile grows wide and genuine at Owen’s mock dismay, the latter even going so far as to slap a hand to his chest. “Tyler Kennedy Strand, you take that back right this second!” 

“The number doesn’t lie,” TK laughs out, running when Owen shoots after him, and he takes the light punches to his back, stopping only when Owen turns away to cough harshly. Tension flicks across TK’s muscles, and he spins around, frowning. “You okay?”

“Yes,” Owen breathes out, catching his breath. “Stop looking at me like that. You’re going to wrinkle.” 

“You are unbelievable,” TK spits out around a huff of a laugh as he turns to leave the room, calling out his goodnight as he shuffles back into his room. It’s almost 3:30 now, and his alarm is set for 6. His muscles are aching for his bed, but his heart’s been the only one allowed to make decisions as of late. He bypasses his bed and slips his sneakers on, waiting until he hears Owen’s soft snores before he slips out of the house for a run. 

*****

“Not to be an asshole or anything, but you look like shit.” 

TK’s hand freezes mid rub at his helmet, and he drags a narrow gaze up to Judd. “Good morning to you, too.” He frowns a little, the crack in his voice betraying him, and he pulls his gaze back to his helmet, ignoring Judd when the latter takes a seat beside him. 

“TK, man, what’s going on? You’ve been looking like a zombie for a week now, and you’re starting to sound like one, too.”

“I’m fine,” TK grumbles, but the few coughs that slip past his pursed lips say otherwise, and he can see Judd tense slightly beside him through his peripherals. 

“It’s your dad, isn’t it?” Judd leans toward TK, keeping his voice low, and TK twists his gaze over until he’s meeting Judd’s surprisingly soft eyes. The look alone has his shoulders slumping, and he sighs lowly. 

“It’s just a lot to take in, and I’m trying to do better.” If he’s not dissecting each google page or medical book, he’s catering to his dad’s every need, cooking for him, supporting him as much as possible while out on the line, and being at his side through the nightly coughing fits and bouts of nausea. “I’m trying to take care of him,” he adds, voice almost a whisper, and Judd claps a hand to his shoulder. 

“You aren’t going to be any good to him if you drive yourself into the ground. You need a little break.” 

“I can’t--”

“--sorry to interrupt this little pow-wow, boys,” Owen cuts in, talking loud enough to gather the attention of his entire team. “But I’ve just received an invitation to the bar tonight, so make sure you bring your dancing shoes!” 

TK doesn’t miss the way Michelle stops to roll her eyes before she hoists herself up into the back of an ambulance, but then his dad’s talking directly to him, voice carrying over the hollers from the others. 

“You’ll come, right?” He leans forward, whispering. “Michelle said Carlos will be there--”

“--Dad!” TK hisses out sharply, and the heat that creeps to his cheeks is evident, enough so to have Judd bellowing out a laugh beside him. 

*****

TK excuses himself to the bathroom, leaving his mineral water with Carlos as he maneuvers around bar-goers until he’s shoving the bathroom door open just as his lungs burst. He buries his face into the crook of his arm, coughing harshly. He’s been getting worse as the day’s dragged on, and it’s been getting harder to keep it to himself. He started spiking a low-grade fever toward the end of his shift, and if the chill clinging to him is anything to go by, he’d say it’s definitely spiking. 

He feels like shit, point blank utter shit. His muscles are aching, but not like they do after a particularly hard shift. They’re almost throbbing, feeling oddly restless, and his head’s pounding, behind his eyes, across his forehead, all the way to drum at his temples. Worse, though, he can’t seem to shut his mind off, not even with Carlos and his unfair muscles by his side. 

He takes just a few moments to splash cold water over his burning face, sniffling lightly when he dries his face, and then he leaves, coughing weakly into his fist as he moves back around drunks and dancing until he’s bumping Carlos’ shoulder. 

“Your dad just yee-hawed half the people off the dance floor,” Carlos shouts over the music, and TK shoots a gaze to see his dad moving through some weirdly graceful mock lasso toss. 

“Marjan got the entire thing on video,” Carlos adds, nodding across the room, and TK follows his gaze with a half-hearted laugh. 

“Hey,” Carlos’ voice is softer this time, almost gentle, and TK pulls his eyes to his, frowning slightly as he tilts his head. 

“Do you want to get out of here?” He leans in close to TK’s ear, and TK shudders against his hot breath. 

“I don’t know about you, but this place is kind of blowing my vibe, and my couch is really lonely--”

A quick distraction that TK smiles at, lips curling up almost deviously, and he nods quickly, allowing Carlos to pull him toward the exit. He spares a glance over his shoulder, fear suddenly gripping at his heart, but then he sees Michelle laughing as Owen spins her around the dance floor. It’s fine, he tells himself. He’s with the EMT Captain. 

He doesn’t mean to catch Judd’s eyes, but he does, and Judd nods once, an almost silent reassurance that TK clings to as Carlos all but drags him out of the bar. 

*****

TK’s melting against Carlos’ forceful touch, his body moving in sync with Carlos’ smooth movements. Their lips are molding to each other, their tongues battling, and when Carlos pulls away, dragging his bottom lip with him in a gentle bite for just a moment, he groans, back arching when Carlos drags sharp kisses down his neck. He’s almost lost completely to Carlos, but then Carlos is mumbling against his neck. 

“God, you’re on fire.” He nips at TK’s neck, almost drinking in the heat pouring off of him, and TK huffs around a small shiver, still feeling oddly cold despite being swallowed by the heat of Carlos’ muscles.

“Weird,” he grunts, a light moan slipping past his lips when Carlos’ hand trails down his stomach. “I’m actually freezing.” It’s a small slip-up, lost briefly in a moment of pure honesty, and then Carlos is pulling away quickly, a frown plastered to his lips. 

He’s hovering just above TK, hands pressed to the couch beside TK’s head, and his eyes are working over TK’s face. “You’re cold?” 

TK doesn’t really see the big deal because it’s probably just cold in Carlos’ apartment with the AC purring quietly in the background, so he nods, and then Carlos is rolling off of him and starting out of the room. 

“Carlos, what the fuck?” He shouts, his throat burning with each word until he turns to cough into the crook of his arm harshly. When he catches his breath, he turns his gaze to see Carlos walking toward him with a digital thermometer in his hand. 

“Doctor kink?” he starts, both brows raised, “I mean, if that’s your thing, I can get behind that--”

“TK, shut the fuck up and put this under your tongue.” 

TK opens his mouth to argue, but Carlos shoves the tip of the thermometer into his mouth, and he can’t do anything but oblige, slipping it under his tongue as he keeps a steady gaze to Carlos’ almost angry one. When the thermometer beeps, he moves to grab it, but Carlos is faster by a long shot, more so against TK’s sore muscles, and he frowns at the 102.2 degree reading, dropping it to TK’s hand as he presses a palm to TK’s forehead. 

“Woah,” TK breathes out at the reading, frowning deeply. He knew he had been running a low-grade, but this is way higher than he expected. “Shit,” he curses, eyes flying from the device to Carlos. “I’m sorry,” he spits out, but then his lungs quake with a need to cough, and he turns away from Carlos, coughing harshly into the crook of his arm. 

When he can suck in a deep breath without the burning need to cough more, he spares a hesitant glance back to see pure, dripping worry coloring Carlos’ eyes. 

“In the SUV earlier,” Carlos mutters, almost more to himself, “when you were coughing and said you accidentally inhaled some smoke on a call earlier. I should have known then.” He reaches over TK’s shoulder for a blanket folded on the back of his couch and drapes it over TK’s slightly trembling shoulders, and TK watches his every move. 

“Why didn’t you say earlier? I wouldn’t have pushed you--”

“--I wanted the distraction,” TK admits, surprising even himself. With the gig up, with Carlos staring at him with such consuming worry, he sinks back against the couch, allowing his illness to fully sweep over his body. He shivers, pulling the blanket tighter around himself, and he tilts his head against the back of the couch, eyes finding the ceiling. 

“A distraction from what?” Carlos pushes gently, careful to not tiptoe over into boyfriend territory. 

“Everything,” TK mutters around a weak cough, and he rolls his head to the side when Carlos lays a gentle hand to his covered knee, a small sign of encouragement that he’s listening but not forcing. 

“If I say I’m not ready to talk about it right now, will you not ask about it?”

Carlos considers this, and while the urge to push past TK’s wall is as hot as the latter’s fever, he nods slowly. “You can stay the night,” he says instead, moving with the need to see TK through what he’s sure is either a really bad cold or maybe the flu.

“I can’t,” TK starts, and he pushes the blanket away, making to stand, but his vision wavers, gray dots dancing across his eyes, and Carlos is quick on his feet, snaking a strong arm around TK’s waist and guiding him back down to the couch. 

“Why not? You can’t even walk.”

“My dad,” TK mutters, leaning heavily against Carlos. “I need to be with him... He needs someone with him to make sure he’s okay.” The panic from before, from leaving his father alone, hits him like a bucket of ice water being tossed over his head, and he’s shaking hard in Carlos’ grip, both from fever and fear, but Carlos’ only tightens his hold, a beacon of steady warmth he’s almost afraid to get too close to. 

Carlos really wants to ask about this because Owen seems fine, but the desperation clinging to TK’s tone has him considering his words. “I can call Michelle--”

“--no,” TK mutters, coughing against Carlos’ shoulder. “Judd. He’s the only other one who knows.” 

Carlos eases TK back against the couch, worry pulling at his heart as TK coughs and shivers and curls in on himself. “I’ll call Judd,” he starts, gaze drifting to the door for a moment. “Promise you won’t run?” 

“Couldn’t even if I tried,” TK chatters out, teeth clacking together, and Carlos makes quick work of calling Judd, rattling off what he knows. 

Judd’s worry on the other line of the phone apparently stretches back to a few days prior, and when he mentions he’s not sure that TK’s been sleeping, a pit grows in Carlos’ stomach, uncomfortable against the heavy weight of concern. 

Their conversation isn’t long, ending when Judd reassures him that he’ll keep an eye on Owen and will even make an excuse for TK’s absence. After, Carlos makes quick work of guiding TK to his bedroom. TK’s frighteningly compliant, only fighting him when he tries to pull an “Austin Police Department” hoodie over his head, snagging it from the back of a chair in his bedroom. 

“You’ll overheat,” Carlos tries, but TK somehow manages to pull the hoodie over his bare torso, and Carlos can’t say no when TK looks at him, cheeks flushed, hair sticking up at different ends, the sleeves of his hoodie pulled over his shaking hands, and the hem just covering a small part of TK’s bare thighs.

“Fine,” he mutters, breathing through a few curses as he helps TK into bed. He turns to get medicine for the fever, but TK’s hand is suddenly latching onto his wrist, surprisingly strong, and when he turns around, TK’s eyes, though glassy, are bright and aware. 

“Don’t.” 

“I’m just going to get some medicine--”

“--I can’t sleep,” TK admits, fingers digging into Carlos wrists as he coughs harshly. “I haven’t slept in a week.” 

“Jesus, TK,” Carlos breathes out. He’s getting more and more pieces of the puzzle that is Tyler Kennedy Strand, but the borders, the ones that support the picture, are still missing, as well as some middle chunks. “Why--”

“--you said you wouldn’t ask.” 

“Sorry,” Carlos mutters. “I’m just going to get medicine, and then I’ll come right back.” TK’s hand drops to the bed, eyes momentarily flicking to a color of fear that has Carlos rushing to the bathroom for ibuprofen and water. 

TK takes the medicine without question, wanting to rid his body of this shitty feeling just as much as Carlos does, and then Carlos slips some pants on and climbs into the bed, resting his back against the headboard, and TK watches him, eyes impossibly tired. 

“Do you think you can try to sleep? I’ll stay awake if you need me.”

“Judd’s with my dad?” TK asks, and when Carlos nods, he nods back, curling around Carlos’ hips, head resting against his thigh. He’s a little afraid to let his eyes slip closed, aware that he won’t have the control to not slip into REM, but when Carlos drops a careful hand to his hair, fingers carding softly through it, the fear eases a little, and he hums softly. 

“Is this okay? Have I gone too far into boyfriend territory?” 

“You have,” TK mutters around a yawn that’s followed by a few weak coughs. “But it’s okay for tonight.” 

[lilbit-of-kizzy]

Hey so Ethan/@crankgameplays posted a video about his allergy scares last week and I just had a chance to watch it and I have things to say!! This is long but I urge you to read it (and call me out if I'm wrong!! I tried to look up things I wasn't sure about!!)

So here is a long/basic allergy tutorial from someone who has allergies and a mother who worked for an allergist for many years as a nurse!

Histamines: these are what cause your basic allergic reactions, they cause the swelling and the itching. Most people for example are allergic to mosquitoes, and have a histomic reaction to the mosquito bite. Mosquitoes release a substance to technically numb the pain of the bite and most people are allergic to that substance and therefore have an allergic reaction. Your histamines cause that reaction, an itch and swelling. Some people are highly allergic to mosquito bites and will have varying degrees of an histomic reaction, I'm sure there's some people out there who have anaphylactic reactions to mosquitoes.

Antihistamines: basically tell your histamines to chill out. They come in varying strengths from your daily pill (Zyrtec, Xyzal, Allegra, Claritin) to your emergency or once in a while pill (like Benadryl). For example some people who have bad reactions to poison ivy will take a Benadryl, while people with a dust or pollen allergy might take Zyrtec everyday.

Epinephrine: epinephrine is a type of adrenaline. The reason that Ethan said it doesn't cause a real problem if you don't need it, is because he's never had it when he didn't need it. You will have the racing heart and other symptoms that come with a rise in adrenaline. While you probably won't bleed out from an epi needle, because you or whoever will be able to put pressure on it and it's not that big of a hole, you can cause hypertension and death if it happens to go into a vein (which is hard to do but can happen, use it on the outter thigh). Ethan never had any symptoms when his was used when he "didn't really need it", because his heart rate was already slowed/sped up so the rise in heart rate and other symptoms of an adrenaline boost didn't register, because he did technically need it. He's right that if you accidentally give it you'll probably be fine, but you still want to call a doctor and make them aware of the situation and let them decide what you need to do.

Other types of allergic reactions: We all know the classic signs, itchy, throat/other kinds of swelling, eyes watering/itching etc. But you can also have: coughing, sneezing, sniffly nose, itchy palms/bottoms of your feet, nausea, vomiting, severe diarrhea, heartburn/indigestion/acid reflux, itchy mouth/insides (the weirdest one honestly) and others. None of these necessarily mean you're going into anaphylactic shock, in fact there are very few allergens that cause anaphylactic shock. Things like insect stings/bites, nut allergies, and dairy/egg allergies are some of the worst for anaphylaxis. Other things can cause it but those are your worst offenders. Most other allergies are just annoying, they can be debilitating sometimes but they're not necessarily going to cause death.

What to do if you experience allergies: go see an allergist! Even if you're like "well it's only for like a month I get a little sniffly" still go! You may think you just constantly have a heartburn when you eat one food, but you could be allergic to it and there are ways to avoid the heartburn so you can still eat your favorite foods! Don't be afraid of the allergy test, there are two, one where they prick your back and one where they test your blood. The blood test doesn't test as much as the prick test though, and most normal doctor's offices will go with the blood test, so be sure to see an allergist. They'll ask a lot of questions to try and figure out what you might be allergic to, to figure out what they ought to put in the test. Then they put little drops of the allergen onto itty bitty little needles and prick your back. There are going to be one or two places where it's going to "hurt" but for the most part it's like running your fingernail over a spot of skin. Make sure you bring some hydrocortisone with you to slather all over your back when they're done, but make sure they tell you they're done before you do that!! Tell them that's what you're going to do. They'll honestly probably do it for you. They then measure the size of each reaction to determine whether or not you are allergic to a substance and whether or not that's what's bothering you. (So if you put hydrocortisone on before they're done they won't get an accurate measure) It's actually kinda of neat to see yor back all splotchy lol. Some allergies can be fixed with shots, which are not as bad as they seem, some just need daily medication.

Different allergies: if someone tells you they are allergic to a food and then proceed to eat the food you don't necessarily need to panic. I, for example, am allergic to rice. But I don't have an anaphylactic response, it just upsets my stomach if I eat too much. Before I figured out what was wrong I was throwing up almost daily. While there's no specific shot or pills for rice, getting all my other allergies in check helped the rice not be so bad. I was also allergic to dust which there are shorts for, and once I got that under control, stopped eating rice all the time, and started taking an acid reflux medication, I was able to start eating rice again without any problems (again as long as I didn't eat it all the time) When it comes to environmental allergies there often are shots for those. These can also cause some pretty serious reactions but don't usually cause anaphylaxis. I said I was allergic to dust and if I've been off of my meds and shots for a long time and I touch a surface with dust on it my hands will actually burn. It's extremely painful but nothing I need to go to the hospital for.

Allergy shots: these are really not anywhere near as bad as you might think they would be. They're once weekly shots that are teeny teeny tiny needles, it's the medication that hurts and even that isn't that bad. Especially not if it keeps my hands from burning, or someone who has anaphylactic reactions to bee stings from dying. They also tend to "cure" you of your allergies, my dust allergy has been reduced from a 9+ on the scale all the way down to 5. So while I'm still allergic to dust, it doesn't burn me if I go off my meds, it's just very itchy and gives me headaches. (They're also in the testing phases for a peanut shot!! Still have a long way to go on that one though but at least they're working on one!)

One other thing to keep in mind, an epipen is not a solution to the problem, it's a slowdown on the timer to death. You still need to go to the hospital and you still need to get there as quickly as you can. Especially for things like peanuts and bee stings, which cause severe reactions and very quick death. If there's more than one person there you need to be calling 911 as you're giving the shot. Even if they just need to be watched as they come down off of the epi just in case. Ethan's right you can re-react the stuff up to 6 or more hours later. Whatever you ate/was injected into you has to make its way out of your body before you're reaction to it stops, all the emergency crew is doing is keeping you from dying while that happens. When they gave him so much Benadryl they were basically just trying to completely kill his histamines.

This is by no means a full course on allergy knowledge but it's what I have available from years of having allergies and living with a nurse, and I hope it helps any of you out there who aren't sure what's going on with you/need more knowledge!! Sorry it was so long 😅

TL;DR all allergies are different and need different care (also please read it lol)

(I did also post this in the comment section of that video! I just made it prettier here lol. This was made using the voice to text on my phone though so I apologize for any weirdness/grammar mistakes)

[aprildiamond9]

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