#heart attack recovery

[victoriaslovingcarefh]

The Role of Skilled Caregivers in Post-stroke Recovery

The road to recovery after a stroke or heart attack can be challenging, but having the right support makes all the difference. In adult care in Vancouver, Washington, skilled caregivers play a crucial role in ensuring a smooth and effective recovery. They provide specialized care tailored to the unique needs of each individual, promoting physical and emotional healing. From assisting with daily activities to offering emotional support, these caregivers are essential in helping patients regain their independence and confidence.

Learn More: https://www.victoriaslovingcare.com/the-role-of-skilled-caregivers-in-post-stroke-recovery

[suchananewsblog]

Past Discrimination Tied to Worse Recovery After Heart Attack

Past Discrimination Tied to Worse Recovery After Heart Attack

Nov. 28, 2022 – About one in three adults who survived a heart attack at a relatively young age say they have experienced discrimination, and the findings of a new study also showed that the experience was tied to worse recovery in the months afterward.  The discrimination or unfair treatment in everyday life was based on their race, gender, low family income, or other reasons. People who…

[mokutone]

your art makes me wanna start testosterone

i can't read tone well, so this is either an incredibly touching ask, or an extremely funny one, and in the absence of confirmation: both!

i'm in a chatty mood, so i'll share some thoughts about testosterone and my art.

i liked being on testosterone a lot. i had an IM injection every two weeks (on tuesdays!) and because that's a sizeable dose every 14 days that slowly disperses, it can cause some mood fluctuations (every other friday i would have a crisis about not feeling like the world had a place for me in it) but even those were far more manageable than the ones that would come with my previous and current monthly hormone cycle (every month i spend a solid week thinking the world will never have a place for me in it)

It gave me a patchy little bit of scruff on my chin and a whispy mustache under my nose that still struggles on, despite adversity!

It redistributed my fat a little bit, but that's long since gone back to pre-T shape.

it lowered my voice! that hasn't changed :^)! even if i never go back on t, that won't change. it was the thing i most wanted, and its the one i'm most grateful for. Pre-T, I didn't speak much. I'm getting better and better at talking and getting more and more comfortable communicating with people because of it.

having been off t now for 3 years, i don't pass anymore—not as a cis man, or a cis woman, certainly not as anything approximating straight. if people look at me and see anything, i'd hazard a guess that they see me as A Queer (the noun—for all it's complicated connotations).

i'm not surprised that my art might make somebody want to start testosterone! a lot of my art was made out of the aching grief that came with being kicked off of testosterone, and how neatly that loss of autonomy over my own body knits in with yamato's loss of autonomy over his own.

how my body started doing things i disliked, how i didn't have the support necessary to access the healthcare i needed—how my inability to give myself what i needed made me feel as though i were trapped inside of myself and abandoned (by both myself and the world at large)

when i write comics about yamato as a trans man, i don't take away his testosterone, because that hits a little too close to home for me. for Ninja War Town Reasons, he has plenty of access to all the HRT he could ever need and nobody questions his need for it—instead, i project my own horrors onto the way Danzō defined his identity for him as a child, the way that Kabuto and Obito dehumanize him as an adult in their war efforts, and reduce him to the thing his body holds (the Mokuton). I give him a kneejerk compulsion to dehumanize himself (out of a feeling that he has a duty to his community to do so) and I give him a slow-growing resistance to that impulse (which comes out of a feeling that the people he loves would frown upon seeing him reduce himself like that)

it's dysphoria! it's not gender dysphoria, but it's a loss of self, and a need to reclaim it. it's a war between the hollow shell of a thing he thinks he has to be, and the vibrant and messy person beneath it that he is. it's a desperate need to say "this is who i am—only i can say it"

I enjoyed HRT a lot. it was a really useful tool in helping me feel like my body was my own, that i didn't have to fight it, that we were the same entity. It's not the only tool, but it was a really good one, and one day I hope to use it again.

(as for the being off of it—it's unpleasant, but i'm enduring! being somebody who now doesn't really pass as anything has put me in a weird and interesting position, where I'm constantly having to declare myself to people, because nobody knows what to make of me on any front. they don't know if i'm a man, a woman, nonbinary, nor even what age i am (Augh!!!!) it forces me to be brave and vulnerable more than I'm comfortable with—if I tell somebody I'm a man, there's no way that they will believe I'm cis, but I'm not about to recloset myself—and I don't think I could at this point anyway.)

(there's something fascinating about the position i find myself in, and while i'd leap back on t the moment that an opportunity presented itself to do so, i do feel like i'm experiencing something interesting and important in this weird zone i find myself in)

[dawntainbobbynash]

And another couple of entries for 'how the fuck is Bobby Nash still alive?!?'

*Nearly drowned in a capsized cruise ship

*Smoke-inhalation-induced cardiac arrest

* Has apparently been drinking more or less regularly for roughly forty years?!?

Don't forget nearly dying in the desert 😭 I'm gonna have to eventually make a part two for that gifset at this rate bc if a single shortened season gave us all of that, what else are they gonna do to this man in s8 (and hopefully beyond)

[promptsforyourwhumpfic]

Whump Prompt #1124

Submitted by Anon - thanks!

Whumpee and caretaker are having a very pleasant day when whumpee starts feeling pain in his left shoulder and thirsty...they sit down and caretaker gets them water...

Suddenly the whumpee collapses due to a heart attack. Could be after effects of some past torture or anything you'd like to add or modify. 

I’ll add:

Maybe a clot forms if they’ve been bed bound for a while. The whumpee is particularly annoyed because they’ve just recovered. 

Maybe they initially passed off the symptoms as the aftermath of their captivity.

Other causes include: stress, hypertension (high blood pressure), medication/drugs, smoking/vaping, 

[randolphbellmd]

i do not like this phase of recovery

[yoshifawful64]

I just made a winning play in a ranked duel by tributing my Maximum and I am on top of the fucking world right now

[obeekris]

Some mutuals/followers may have noticed my lack of posting anything the past few days.

I have been in the hospital because I suffered a heart attack, probably late Sunday night.

I went in because I was having shortness of breath. Well that was because my lungs were filled with fluid from the heart attack.

I'm back home now. Got a long road of recovery ahead of me.

(I had two stents put in, for those who are familiar.)

[t4tbedehopmar]

hello tumblr *flops over and dies*

[ashenberry]

honest to god looking at people talk about the ganondorf fight im surprised i did so well as someone who could not Flurry Rush or Perfect Parry for shit

[wolfeyedwitch]

Me when going through medical BS: this is going to bring so much realism to my whump writing

[shawnpgreene]

Life After Open Heart Surgery

How I Survived and Continued to Live After My Heart Attack On July 15, 2023, I called 911 after getting severe chest pains and shortness of breath. I just returned from a road trip to Grand Rapids, Michigan, where I was planning to host my 2023 Great Lakes Christian Film Festival at Grace Christian University. I just unloaded the last item from my vehicle, and immediately I was feeling week and…

[vivekguptahal]

One Heartbeat at a Time: MedTech and Engineering Services Save Lives

In the United States, sudden cardiac arrest (SCA) claims the lives of 436,000 people annually, with over 350,000 incidents occurring outside hospitals. Addressing this urgent need, Kestra Medical Technologies introduced the ASSURE® Wearable Cardioverter Defibrillator (WCD), a revolutionary solution for at-risk cardiac patients.

Partnering with GlobalLogic, a Hitachi Group company, Kestra developed the ASSURE cardiac care and recovery system, a digital cardiac monitoring system comprising the ASSURE WCD, patient app, and Kestra CareStation™ remote patient data platform.

Designed for comfort and safety, the ASSURE system offers seamless protection. Nearly 74 percent of out-of-hospital cardiac arrests occur at home, making the ASSURE system’s continuous remote patient monitoring vital. This wearable system autonomously detects abnormal heart rhythms and administers therapeutic defibrillation shocks when necessary, without requiring patient or bystander intervention.

Kestra’s partnership with GlobalLogic resulted in a user-centric system with lightweight garments featuring ECG sensors and therapy pads. The ASSURE app empowers patients, encouraging engagement in their recovery process. Moreover, this digital cardiac monitoring system equips clinicians with valuable insights into patient heart rhythms, enhancing mobile patient monitoring.

Recognized with the Medical Design Excellence Award, the ASSURE system, available to over 100 million insurance plan members in the U.S., represents a significant leap in digital healthcare. The partnership between Kestra and GlobalLogic exemplifies the power of innovation in revolutionizing MedTech.

With a commitment to continuous improvement and patient empowerment, Kestra’s cutting-edge technology is shaping the future of mobile healthcare.

Discover how Kestra Medical Technologies and GlobalLogic joined forces to introduce the breakthrough ASSURE® Cardiac Recovery System to provide life-saving cardiac care and recovery

To learn how GlobalLogic can provide you with a cost-effective, scalable, highly competent and quality process-compliant software engineering product development team, visit  https://www.globallogic.com/services/industries/healthcare-life-sciences/.

[hopkinrx]

Heart Attack: Understanding the Silent Threat to Heart Health

Heart health is a topic of paramount importance, and one of the most significant threats to it is a heart attack. This unexpected and potentially life-threatening event can strike anyone, regardless of age or gender. In this comprehensive article, we will delve deep into the realm of heart attacks, exploring their causes, symptoms, risk factors, and crucial steps for prevention. By shedding light…

[sepia-stained-sunset]

Bruce being so done with life because none of his kids treat their medical files on the batcomputer with the importance it deserves. And the worst part is, he can't tell if it's on purpose or if they're all Just Like That.

Dick:

He loves his eldest son but for some reason, he refuses to do anything but put down estimated recovery times in his injuries folder. It's usually in the range of "2 weeks" to "48 hours" but that just leaves Bruce worrying about what happened.

One time, he put down 3 months and he nearly had a heart attack till his son called and told him Kor'i had dumped him and that this was how long he was going to be wallowing.

Jason:

Is nice enough to tell him what happened but doesn't add the degree of injury.

So he'll put down "stabbed" but won't elaborate on whether it was a flesh wound or worse. Bruce goes grey very, very early after Jason is on the field.

Tim:

Gives him just the location of the injury and leaves him to guess what happened.

Could say "arm" or "back of the head" or, on one memorable occasion, "spleen", but won't say what the heck happened to any of those parts.

Was he stabbed?? Shot at?? Who knows. Certainly not Bruce.

Damian:

Only mentions the retribution he got for any injuries he received.

"It's been handled", "he'll never be able to get the drop on me again" and more often than not, just the word "avenged".

Bruce is surprised he has any of his original hair colour left at all.

Duke:

By far the worst one. He writes down injuries in terms of his own pain scale.

Could write "OW!" or "Not Gucci" or "Better than that time Jason hit me in the face with a TV remote".

Once wrote "Non-fatal" which sent Bruce into a spiral because "holy shit Duke?? What do you mean non-fatal?? Yeah I sure hope your injuries weren't lethal?!"

Cass:

Has never been injured on patrol. Often leaves him question marks in her file which...yeah, fair enough.

[yesimwriting]

Midway

a/n a small-ish fic of someone comforting aegon bc i feel bad for him 😭

Summary: You did not choose to be Aegon's wife, and yet you seem to be the only one choosing to be there for him during his recovery.

Warnings/info: forced marriage turned to awkward, subtle pining masquerading as uneasy friendship, vague descriptions of life threatening injuries, canon compliant incest (reader is rhaenyra's daughter)

read part 2 here: A Matter of Timing

----

Hushed whispers, as stale and sterile as the fresh gauze being stretched and pulled taut against his skin. The rasp of his breathing scrapes at the air that manages to pull itself into your own lungs.

"It is..." Alicent stalls, her gaze never leaving her eldest son, "A lot, I know." Her eyes are wide, glossier than you've ever seen them. An odd sort of empathy presses itself against your chest, making a full breath feel like even more of a fantasy.

Your sympathies and courteously vague expressions of understanding and mutual hurt are things Alicent has no use for. She's tolerated you like an inherited dress that doesn't quite fit, only begrudgingly acknowledging you when surrounded by family.

These days, her barely there tolerance for you has grown even weaker, considering the reports your handmaid had delivered to you of Alicent's attempts to convince the council to lock you away after your mother's retaliation to Aegon's coronation. An imprisonment only prevented by Aegon's command.

She lets out a breath, her attention briefly dropping to the ground before settling on you. "But you are his wife."

A fact she's only come to accept because of your blood. As Rhaenyra's daughter, your marriage had been a compromise, a final attempt at merging a divided family before your grandsire's passing. If your mother had known how quickly Aegon's supporters would have pushed him towards the throne...

You nod your head slowly, dismissing thoughts of yourself. For the first time since your union, the context of your arrangement does not cloud all else. "Yes."

There had been no attempts made to gloss over the extent of Aegon's injuries. For once, the heart of the Red Keep prioritized reality over projecting strength and invulnerability. The maesters had warned you, had detailed the damages left behind by the flames and the fall. An attack strong enough to kill a dragon.

"I um...I tried to visit him earlier, when he first returned." The surprise of your own honesty is an afterthought, a barely there thing attempting to occupy the little space left in your mind. "They said he was not yet stable."

Alicent is silent, some distant quality hollowing her stare as she watches the maester. His movements are succinct, precise as he quietly instructs a maid to bring him a salve left on the table. How many times in these last few days has he gone through this process? How many more times will a maester need to dress Aegon's wounds and rebandage him?

"Stable seems relative." Alicent blinks, her attention returning to what's directly in front of her. She turns to face you. "I trust that you'll sit with him, keep him company after the maester is finished."

Aegon's thoughts on your company have shifted several times throughout the short time you've been married. He often goes through periods of indifference followed by fleeting displays of interest that feel eerily close to companionship. Not quite a friendship or a romance, but something warm and comfortable. Mutual glances shared over supper, peaceful moments in the hall, occasionally crawling into the other's beds at night like children that cannot find sleep on their own.

Some skeptical part of you wonders if Alicent's sudden interest in your wifely responsibilities has more to do with punishing you than caring for Aegon. You doubt she considers you some great source of comfort in her son's life. At least you don't mind the thought of staying here, away from prying eyes and whispers that your privileges within the Red Keep should be restricted until the realm is no longer so divided. "Of course."

She nods once. "There--there is much to be decided upon in Aegon's absence." Alicent lets out a rigid breath. Perhaps Alicent really does want to know that someone's with Aegon. "I should go."

"I will keep him company, your grace."

With that, Alicent spares Aegon a final glance before turning to leave. You remain near the entrance of Aegon's bedchambers, far enough away to not impact the maester and his work.

You watch the process openly. Aegon's burns and other injuries are meticulously cleaned, white cloth stained dark as it is dragged against his skin. Salves and balms are lathered onto his wounds, concoctions meant to promote healing and ward off infection. The final step of the process involves the freshly cleaned wound being rebandaged.

The maester works at an expert pace, treating Aegon's body in sections. Before you know it, he's stepping back to assess the results of his efforts. The maester then looks over at you.

You've never been in a position to be responsible over someone so injured. Are you meant to...dismiss him? Approve his work? Ask something? "Is he..." Well seems like a terrible overstatement. You force yourself to take a few steps forward. "How is he?"

He briefly presses his lips together. "Much more stable than he was previously, your grace. I am afraid that I cannot yet predict much about his recovery. As of now, the priority is preventing infection."

You allow your gaze to fall onto Aegon. There's something about the way he's lying there, immobile and broken and smaller than he should be. "Right. Well, thank you."

The maester nods, "It is my honor, your grace."

He begins to gather his supplies before leaving. At the maester's absence, the maid that had been assisting him turns towards you. "Is there anything you need, your grace?"

You briefly consider sending her out for water or asking her to bring you a book you left in your own apartments. A menial task would ensure her return, which would mean you'd have a temporary reprieve from being alone with Aegon like this. "No, I'm alright. You are free to go."

She nods at the dismissal, "Thank you, my queen."

Queen. The title that belongs to your mother in her own right, not as a position inherited towards marriage.

The girl leaves, her quiet footsteps nearly drowned out by Aegon's unsteady breathing. You watch her until she's disappeared through the doorway, and then for awhile longer. When you can no longer justify your silence, you step forward.

Standing so close to the foot of Aegon's bed tugs at something deep inside of you. He is so still, so without defense. Like this, he does not seem like a man desperate to cement his position, or the person you never wished to be bonded to in this way, or even the only one who you allowed to enter your apartments after news of your brother's death arrived at the Red Keep. Now, he only seems like a boy trapped midway between where he lies and death.

Though bandaged and burned, the entirety of Aegon's features have not been destroyed. The shape of his nose, the part of his lips still familiar. His hair had not been a priority, and while the maester did brush it back to work on him, the disheveled strands have fallen forward again.

You move away from his bed's edge with careful steps. Before you can overthink the act, your hand moves to his forehead. As gently as you can will yourself to, you unplaster the hair stuck to the oily salves on his forehead. Your fingers catch themselves on silvery knots. You begin to pick apart the largest tangles as best as you can without a comb.

It's not an easy task, sweat and product cementing the knots into place. "I'd hate it if no one brushed my hair." The words come out on instinct, the desire to justify your proximity the way you would if he was awake. In all honesty, you're not sure if he can hear you.

The process is slow and clumsy, nails separating strands for you to comb through. Up close like this, you can almost pretend that this is restful for him. He still doesn't look well, but from here you can focus on his shut eyes and parted lips. Your hand drifts away from his hairline, fingertips fluttering over bandages and brushing against unmarred skin.

Something awfully sentimental attempts to claw its way up your throat. "I'll go get a comb." You pull your arm away from him. "I'll--I'll be back, I promise."

You take a single step back before turning your back to him. The maester deemed him stable, which means that he will not spontaneously pass if left alone for a moment. You'll only leave to fetch a comb and maybe a book so that you have something to read aloud. He's never loved your novels, but it's the only way you can think to keep him com--

A soft sound, so gentle and brief you could almost convince yourself you imagined it if it wasn't for the distinctness of the word. Your name.

You stall. Perhaps you misheard something else, maybe a stuttering of his breathing or the room settling. You turn.

He remains unchanged--body in the same position it's been in this entire time and eyes still shut. The supposed whisper should be dismissible.

You step forward, voice fragile as you ask, "Aegon?"

For a moment, pressed between the audible strain between his breaths, a faint optimism pulses through you. Weeks of being a bride, a queen of the realm hated by all those around her, and your only form of protection has, ironically, been the man that's bound you to this place.

The hope fluttering in your stomach quickly morphs into something closer to dread. He is not awake. He is not well enough to call for you or any--a shift, a turn of his outstretched hand so small and inconsequential you likely would not have noticed if it was any less needed.

Ignoring the blurring edges of your vision, you move towards his bedside in quick strides. Without thinking, your hand finds his. "I know that this union is not one you entered willingly. I am also aware of the fact that you know I did not ask for this either." You've not often held Aegon's hand, but now you're glad for his tangibility. "But you--you have not been cruel. You've actually been surprisingly patient, even when I have given you reason not to be."

His palm is warm against yours, the familiarity of it strangely assuring. The few times you've laid together for the sake of duty, the heat of Aegon's skin had been one of the few aspects of the process that you were reluctantly drawn to.

"At times, you have been kind..." You blink in an attempt to dismiss the stinging behind your eyes. "Friendly, even." Your hold on him tightens. "And I miss that. I--I miss our friendship."

The grief in your chest is a hybrid thing, made up just as much out of your empathy and fear as it is by your hurt. It's a sensation so dizzying, you nearly pour your panic out to him. You have to bite your tongue to avoid asking him to not leave you alone here.

Tears are beginning to prick the corner of your eyes when you feel his fingers bend around yours. Aegon squeezes your hand with a barely recognizable force.

He's--he's awake. "Aegon?"

His hold on you does not falter as a faint sigh escapes his lips, a midway of his own.

- - - -

a/n not to offer a part 2 to everything i write but i have an idea for a second fic that’s connected to this so if ur interested lmk :)))