#high blood pressure 911

[watmalik]

Buck and Tommy should’ve kissed in front of you know who. It would have been the most delicious “fuck you” in tv history

[roy-kents]

i do think someone needs to remind paramedic han that you’re not actually meant to remove a penetrating object because a lot of the time it’s stemming the flow of blood and to apply CONSTANT PRESSURE not keep taking a peek to keep going “oh that’s bad teehee” THIS MAN

[health-supplementproducts]

Blood Pressure 911 Supplements - Health

A Right Jolly Good Sort: My Experience with Blood Pressure 911

I used to be a bit of a skeptic when it came to herbal supplements. All that seemed a bit "snake oil salesman" to me, you know? But then my doctor mentioned I was borderline for high blood pressure. Now, a flutter in the old ticker wasn't exactly unheard of in my family, but the thought of being on medication for the rest of my life wasn't particularly appealing. So, I decided to explore some natural alternatives.

Taking the Plunge with Blood Pressure 911

That's when I stumbled upon Blood Pressure 911. Now, the name might be a bit dramatic, but it piqued my curiosity. The idea of a natural solution based on Japanese ingredients appealed to me. After doing some research and seeing mostly positive reviews, I decided to give it a go.

Easy to Swallow, Easy to Maintain

Blood Pressure 911 comes in capsules, which is perfect for someone like me who isn't a fan of syrups or powders. The dosage is simple – just two capsules a day, one in the morning and one in the evening. It easily slotted into my routine, no fuss, no bother.

Feeling the Natural Difference

Now, I'm not going to say it was a miracle cure. It took a good few weeks before I really noticed a difference. But slowly and surely, I started to feel a change. That tightness in my chest, the occasional light-headedness – it all seemed to fade away. I felt more energised, and sleep came a bit easier too.

Back to the Doctor, Back with a Smile

After three months of taking Blood Pressure 911, I decided to head back to the doctor for a check-up. He was pleasantly surprised! My blood pressure had dropped to a healthy range. He was cautious at first, recommending I continue with the supplements for another few months alongside a healthy diet and exercise – all things I was already incorporating more of thanks to feeling better. But there was a definite shift in his tone – he seemed genuinely impressed by the natural approach.

A Word to the Wise

Look, I'm not saying Blood Pressure 911 is a magic bullet. Everyone's body is different, and what works for me might not work for you. But for someone like me, who wanted to explore natural ways to manage my health, it's been a real game-changer. If you're on the fence about giving it a try, all I can say is – it might just be the "cup of tea" you've been looking for. Just remember, consult your doctor before starting any new supplements, alright?

Now, I'm not back to scoffing at all things herbal. Blood Pressure 911 has shown me that sometimes, a natural approach can be just as, if not more, effective than traditional medication. It's certainly made a positive difference in my life, and for that, I'm a right jolly good fan!

[fangirl-writes]

And It’s a Goddamn Tragedy

JJ Maybank x Routledge!Reader; John B. Routledge x Sister!Reader

Warning(s): guns, gunshot wound, blood, hospital. Angst.

Notes: Could be in the same universe as my Nightmares imagine but can be read on its own as it makes no references to that fic. Also I have never been shot, but I did do a little research on the feeling, however most of the reaction is purely fictional.

Summary: JJ and John B. know their lives are a tragedy, but goddamnit, why do you have to pay the price?

The gun let out a loud bang as it fired, everything falling into slow motion. Engulfing your senses with nothing but a high pitched ringing and the slow movement of the gun in Rafe’s hand.

You saw a sharp look of regret pass over Rafe’s features before being swallowed by seriousness again. And then you could feel something wet start to blossom on your t-shirt.

Your face paled as you turned to the pogues, feeling the heat rushing from your face, mouth open but no sound coming out.

You could see the horror in their eyes, see John B. and JJ’s mouths moving, but you couldn’t make out what they were saying. It was like there was cotton in your ears, and the ringing persisted, louder with every second.

You felt yourself start to become lightheaded, the world starting to become blurry.

Feeling sick, you dropped to your knees, everything still slow and disorienting until your body hit JJ’s.

“Hey, hey, Y/N, come on, stay awake," he said,

It was an overload on your head, everything rushing back to full speed quickly, and instead of pain, there was a burning, aggravating sensation in your stomach area, growing outward from where the bullet struck you. Intense and hot.

John B. was next to you in a second, holding your head with one hand and pressing his other against your wound. “Listen to JJ, Y/N, stay awake.”

You let out a loud cry, the burn overwhelming and tears swelling in your eyes.

Pope, Kiara, and Sarah stood above you, shouting incomprehensible things you couldn’t focus on.

“Hospital, John B, we’ve got to get her to a hospital!”

Hospital? Would you make it to a hospital?

Your brother peeled off his button up, wrapping it around your middle to try to stop the bleeding.

“Call 911!”

God, you couldn’t afford an ambulance. Just put you in the Twinkie and let you go. John B. would get over the blood stains. Like that thing had never been bled on before.

“Fuck it! JJ carry her to the van, I’ll drive.”

You felt your body move, being lifted into JJ’s arms. You looked up at his face, it was the only thing in focus. He looked worried, scared even.

“Hold on, Y/N, we’re gonna get you there. You’ll be okay," he said.

You smiled lightly. If you didn’t feel like passing out, you might’ve kissed him. That always calmed him down.

Pope threw open the door of the van, and JJ hopped in, sitting down and cradling you carefully in his arms.

Sarah was next to you then, pulling off her tank top and pressing it hard against your stomach.

You let out a cry and JJ looked like he was going to murder her.

“What are you doing!”

“Trying to put pressure on it! John B.’s shirt isn’t going to hold it enough.”

You groaned, not feeling up to arguing with anyone, just dropping your head into JJ’s shoulder and letting Sarah press against your wound.

Pope and Kiara jumped in last, barely getting the door shut before John B. was speeding down the road toward the hospital.

JJ kept whispering reassurances. You weren’t sure if they were for you or him. Maybe both.

You could hear the loud honking of horns as John B. tore through town.

Your eyes fluttered closed.

“No, no, no, Y/N, you have to stay awake. Open your eyes,” JJ urged.

You let out a soft whine. All you wanted was to sleep and let the pain go away.

“I know, baby, I know,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against yours. “We’re almost there, okay? Almost there.”

Before long, the vans door was being thrown open again and you were jolted around as JJ ran into the hospital, John B. close on his heels.

“Help! Help, she’s been shot!”

Your body was laid down on a gurney and the staff started rolling you away.

Your hand slipped out of JJ’s as a nurse stopped him from coming along. The pain and sorrow in his eyes were the last of him you saw.

“Y/N?” One of the nurses above you said. “Can you hear me?”

“Y-yes…” you said before your eyes closed, relieving you from enduring the pain any longer.

JJ watched with tears rolling down his cheeks as you were carted away from him.

“Why don’t you go get cleaned up. We’ll let you know what’s happening as it happens, okay?”

JJ nodded once, but didn’t take his eyes off of you until you passed through a set of doors and he couldn’t see you anymore.

He let himself look down at his body. His hands and shirt were covered in your blood and he felt sick to his stomach.

Pope gripped his shoulder, snapping him out of his daze and ushering him to a bathroom.

John B. and JJ entered the hospital restroom, walking to separate sinks and washing the blood off their hands.

JJ couldn’t quite fathom what happened yet. It started to settle in as he watched the water turn crimson.

He looked over at John B. who was doing the same as him, his stare harsh and unmoving as he washed his hands.

There was a swipe of blood on his cheek.

Suddenly, his best friend choked out a sob. He gripped the side of the sink and cried.

“I can’t lose her too.” John B. said through tears. “I can’t lose her too.”

JJ moved over to him, wrapping him in a hug that was quickly reciprocated. 

“She’s gonna be okay, man,” he whispered into John B.’s shoulder. “She’s gotta be. She wouldn’t let punk ass Rafe be the one to do her in.”

John B. let out a watery laugh, squeezing him tighter.

Neither boy moved to break away from the hug, the both of them needing the comfort for a little longer. 

“Why’s she always the one that gets hurt because we’re stupid?” John B. asked, quietly. “Why’s she gotta pay the price?”

“I don’t know...” JJ replied, just as quiet.

It was true that you always seemed to be the one getting hurt.

When JJ stole money from Barry, you were the one who got the shotgun pointed at your head. When John B. was spiraling from the loss of their dad, you were the one who picked up the pieces. When Topper almost drowned John B., you were the one who tackled Topper before JJ got the gun out.

You were the one left alone after John B. and Sarah got lost in the storm. 

And now, you were the one that got shot with the bullet meant for John B.

Well, that’s what he assumed anyway. Why would Rafe want to shoot anyone but him?

“Hey, she’s out of surgery,” Pope said, opening the bathroom door where JJ and John B. were smoking a joint by the window. 

“Fucking finally,” JJ said, putting the blunt out on the windowsill. 

The doctor was talking with Kiara and Sarah when the boys approached.

“She’s stable. And lucky,” the doctor said. “We’ve got her on an IV and will prescribe her some pain medication once she’s discharged, but we’d like to keep her overnight.”

“I’ll stay with her,” John B. and JJ said at the same time.

The doctor chuckled. “I think there’s room for both of you, though you should think about shifts so you kids can leave to clean up and get some sleep.”

Both boys knew they wouldn’t be leaving her side all night.

“Someone will let you know when she’s awake.”

With that, the doctor left the group alone. 

“You guys really should go shower and change,” Sarah said.

“Nah, no way I’m leaving,” JJ said. “What if she wakes up and I’m not here?”

“She probably won’t be up for a bit,” Pope said. “Most people wake up thirty minutes after the anesthesia.”

“Regardless, I’m not leaving.” John B. said. “This is my fault and I’m not leaving her again.”

“I never left her,” JJ said, crossing his arms.

“What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?” John B. replied, face contorting angrily.

"Hey!" Kiara said, getting in between the two. "Not the time nor the place. You can both stay if you're going to asses about it."

They let it go, backing off and biting their tongues.

"Keys." Kiara said, holding out her hand.

John B. reluctantly dropped them into her palm.

"We'll be back. Text us if she wakes up before then and don't fight."

Dropping into chairs on opposite sides of the waiting room, JJ and John B. watched as the others left and waited for any news.

John B. was doing anything he could to distract himself and was failing miserably.

Nothing on his phone could hold his thoughts and none of the magazines on the table were even worth looking at.

So, he looked at JJ.

JJ's knee was bouncing, nervous. He didn't even look at his phone to pass the time, just stared at a spot on the floor.

John B. thought back to when Sarah got shot and he thought he was going to lose her. That was pain like he'd never felt and he could see by JJ's seemingly emotionless expression that he was feeling that same feeling.

John B. loved his sister. Y/N was the only family he had left, and he'd be lost without her. But the pain of potentially losing someone you love so deeply and so romantically was different.

It was hard for him to wrap his head around at first. That his best friend and his sister were together.

But they were good for each other. They understood each other on a level he never could.

Sometimes, he thinks that makes him a bad friend, a bad brother. But when JJ looks at Y/N like she hangs the moon, he knows he’s just being silly. Because Y/N looks at JJ like she’s never looked at anyone.

Because they’re in love.

"Y/N Routledge?"

John B. and JJ jumped up immediately. "Yes?"

The nurse gestured for them to follow her, and they didn't hesitate.

JJ's heart pounded as they followed. He was almost impatient in his movements; like his feet weren't going fast enough.

He just wanted to see her. To know she was okay.

The nurse pushed open the door, entering the room first. "Y/N? You've got some visitors here."

And then there you are.

You look exhausted, eyes drooping, skin pale. There's an IV in your wrist, and a hospital gown had replaced your bloody clothes.

"Hey, guys," you said, voice scratchy.

"Oh, honey, let me get you some water," the nurse said, putting down her clipboard and leaving the room.

John B. got out his phone to text the other pogues while JJ went to your side immediately.

He sat on the bed next to you, taking your hand.

"Hey, baby," you said, softly, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair.

JJ relished in the contact, closing his eyes for a moment.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Tired," you replied. "But I'm okay."

John B. pocketed his phone and went to your other side. "Hey, butterfly."

You smiled at him. "Hey, birdie."

And suddenly, the tears are back. "I'm so- so sorry."

"Hey, it's not your fault," you said.

John B. didn't reply, just hugged you tightly.

"I'm okay, I'm okay," you whispered, hugging your brother with one hand, squeezing JJ's with the other.

The nurse came back in then and the boys seperate from you so she could give you the water.

"Just hit your call button if you need anything," she said with a smile.

"Thank you," you replied, nodding.

The door closed behind her and the tone in the room shifted slightly.

"I'm gonna make that asshole pay for this," JJ said, the sadness now replaced with anger.

"No, you're not," you say firmly. "If either of you land in jail again, don't think we're bailing you out."

JJ made a noise of protest, but you just glared at him and he shut up.

"We're moving past this, okay? It happened, it's over, I'm alive. We're not letting this lead to more trouble, alright?"

The boys just mumbled agreements, not entirely satisfied by your requirements, but understanding of them all the same.

You'd been through too much for them to break your heart again.

The other pogues came in not long after that, smuggling in your favorite chocolate bar and a change of clothes for both JJ and John B., who took turns showering in the hospital bathroom.

Kiara took the liberty of brushing your hair out and braiding it as much as its length would allow.

Sarah was the one who spoke with the doctor, getting insurance and payment figured out as well as what pain meds they were prescribing you.

Pope took to being a buffer between your boys, making sure they didn't spring into another argument or try anything stupid while you rested.

As if JJ would have moved from your bedside by anything except force.

John B., now knowing you were safe and alive, was more relaxed, speaking in low voices with Sarah about your condition.

The nurse was kind enough to allow them all to stay the rest of the day, but once visiting hours ended and the sun went down she had to ask them all to leave.

"Only relatives are allowed to stay overnight."

JJ deflated at this, squeezing your hand tightly.

"Can he stay?" You asked. "He's my husband."

A bold lie on your part, considering you were in a hospital.

"Fiance, she means," John B. chimed in.

The Routledge siblings in tandem as always.

The nurse seems skeptical but considering you'd just come out of surgery as a result of being shot, she cut you some slack.

"Sure. But just you two."

They thanked her repeatedly but she just waved a hand. "I'll be back in a moment to set you up for overnight."

You said a quick goodbye to the other pogues, getting a hug from each and a kiss on the cheek from Sarah.

"We'll be back in the morning with breakfast."

"Ooh, hashbrown patty?" you asked.

"I think we can swing that," Kiara replied with a smile. "See you tomorrow."

The nurse came back shortly after to change your IV and check your blood pressure, temperature, and pulse. She also brought you a warm blanket and helped you into a pair of pajamas after changing your bandages.

After that she left you a cup of water and the name of the nurse that would be taking over her shift.

And that was that.

JJ wasted no time climbing into bed with you after she was gone, allowing you to curl into him, careful not to brush your bandages.

John B. settled himself into a couple of chairs for the night and closed his eyes.

"You sure you're all right?" he heard JJ whisper.

"I'm good, J, I promise," you replied.

"JB and I kind of had a cry session about you, ya know."

"Really?"

"Yeah, cause we love you and shit."

You laughed quietly. "Well, I'm glad you weren't tearing each other apart again."

"We almost did, but Kie stopped us before we could get started."

"Good. I don't think either of you would've been allowed in here if you'd've brawled in the waiting room."

John B. smiled softly.

"You're probably right," JJ said.

John B. peaked an eye open. You and JJ were facing each other, lying down. You were playing with JJ's fingers, eyes fluttering as sleep threatened to overtake you once again.

"Sleep, pretty girl, it's okay," JJ said, adusting himself so that you could lean against his shoulder.

"Okay..."

John B. closed his eye again, allowing himself to find his own sleep.

Safety may not be their strong suit, but for what they lacked they made up for in love.

And nobody loved you more than JJ and John B.

[poppadom0912]

Holding on

Warnings: Guns, shootings, blood/injuries, hospitals and lots of angst.

Summary: When going to visit your older brothers, things suddenly take a turn for the worst.

Submitted by @lokiswife18

A/N: I'm so sorry, this was sent in ages ago but with some free time now, I can finally get all of these done. There's multiple medical inaccuracies so I apologise in advance. I somehow ended up writing over 2k words, so this is a long one. Hope you enjoy this, it feels like i haven't written angst in a hot minute so this was super fun to do. Enjoy!!

Today's dinner had been planned for months now and every single time, something came up and it had to be postponed.

First, Jay was unexpectedly gone undercover, and you and Will didn't want him to 'miss out'. The second time, you were pulled in last minute to supervise the annual school camping trip. The third time Will had been unavailable to what you guys later found out was a massive pile up at the hospital that he didn't reply till two days later. And the other four times after that were all results of mainly your brothers work lives getting in the way.

Today had been the day where nothing would go wrong. You'd all messaged earlier on and nothing had come up to change your plans. There was going to be nothing in the way to stop this dinner from taking place tonight.

The high school you worked at was having their parent teacher meetings today, your last one being half an hour before the reservation Jay booked.

Your work best friend who you always drove with had a later meeting and so you were taking the train, your make up in your bag. Your clothes were good enough for restaurant you three frequented growing up.

Waving the other teachers goodnight, wishing them luck with the remainder of their parents, you made your way to the train station, phone in hand as you updated your brothers that you had left work.

It was dark out, the sun had almost fully set, and it was at that time during the autumn when the sun started setting earlier. But the station was close enough and having a detective as a brother meant that he taught you things that would be useful just in case.

Rummaging through your bag looking for your card, you cursed yourself for how messy your things were and with the addition of your makeup, searching for your card that wasn't in its purse was very difficult.

Stopping in your tracks, you huffed in frustration at not being able to find your card. Taking your bag off your shoulder, you used your dominant hand to dig deep. You definitely put it in this morning, you never left the house without it.

Finally finding the card, you resumed your walking, rounding the corner from the train station when you heard very familiar popping sounds went off.

Ducking around the corner, you stood still as you waited for the shooting to pass. Your hands trembled slightly as you dialled 911.

But before you could press the call button, a wave of immense pain washed over you.

Time seemed to move in slow motion. Your surroundings all started to blur; the shootings no longer audible to as a ringing sound drowned your ears.

Following such intense pain was numbness. Your phone and card fell from hand, pins and needles enveloping your fingers as you lost all feeling in your entire body but your chest.

In the far back of your mind, you could hear Will's words from a night he taught you and Jay first aid. At the distant thought, you tried moving your hands to put pressure on your chest, but nothing moved.

Your breathing was now shallow, gasping out of rhythm the more you struggled. Everything was becoming so blurred to the point the flowers on your dress were no longer visible.

Coughing increased your pain tenfold; blood was now trickling out your mouth. With whatever consciousness remained, your panic sank in even further.

What had been a good day at work and a supposed even better evening spent with your brothers had taken a sudden turn for the worst when you'd been caught in the crossfire.

Here you were, bleeding out in the dark in the middle of the street with no one nearby.

Forming any sort of thoughts became even more difficult the more time passed. While thinking about what was going to happen next, your inevitable thought were your brothers who were completely oblivious.

And they were the last thing on your mind when you were no longer able to fight against your heavy eyelids.

*****

Jay arrived first. Everyone was still at the precinct but after asking very politely, Voight let him off early. Jay was sat at the reserved table for twenty minutes before Will showed up, apologising for his tardiness as surgery ran over a little longer than expected.

They had put off ordering till you arrived, only asking for drinks as they waited for you.

The first ten minutes they simply thought you got caught up with more parents but then ten turned into twenty and they were concerned.

You were usually very punctual so being this late was out of the ordinary but to also not tell them in advance that you were going to be late. Something was clearly wrong.

Confused, they both took turns messaging and calling you, both of which you didn’t reply or answer.

Now they were concerned.

Luckily, all three of you were sharing your locations with each other after leaning from many past experiences. Quickly checking your whereabouts, they found you not too far away from your school near the train station but looking at your movements for five minutes, you remained put.

Without any words, both brothers were out their chairs and apologising to their waiter who had been so patient with them. Getting into Jay’s truck – Will being dropped of by Natalie – they drove towards your location, their concern transitioning into anxiety at the unknown.

It didn’t take too long to get there. Jay parking his truck on the side and Will getting out without waiting for the car to stop.

Walking around the corner, they weren’t too sure what to expect but it definitely wasn’t this.

There you were, unconscious, leaning against the side of a building, legs sprawled out forward and your head tilted to the side, blood trickling out your mouth. Your hands were limp around your abdomen where your floral dress was clearly ruined, drowning in blood.

Instantly, Will sprung forward, kneeling besides you as he called your name several time. You never responded nor did you even move an inch.

“Y/N? You with me?” As Will switched into ‘doctor mode’, Jay wasted no time in calling it in, relaying his badge number and stressing the importance of this emergency to dispatch before calling Voight, knowing the man and a few of his colleagues were still working.

Placing his fingers on the side of your neck, Will tensed up as he felt your weak and irregular pulse. Swallowing harshly, Will took inventory of every injury, not matter how big or small.

He addressed the obvious first, your chest that was still bleeding profusely. Taking off his jumper, he ripped it in half, wrapping one around your chest as tight as possible to try stop the bleeding. You had lost so much already and even with the clothing around your chest, his jumper was already soaking in so much blood.

“I’m so sorry Y/N.” Will apologised before tightening a knot, wincing when you finally whimpered. Your whimper was ever so soft that if he wasn’t so focused on you, he wouldn’t have heard it.

“Hey- Y/N, open your eyes for me please.” Will’s resolve was struggling at the sight of his little sister bleeding out and there only being so much he could do to help. But Jay, he felt even more helpless, standing back only being able to watch as his brother did his best to help with so little resources.

Surveying the area, Jay tried looking for anything out of the ordinary, but it was fully dark now, no people out as they all got ready for bed.

Turning on his phone flashlight, Jay easily caught sight of several stray bullets littering the road and pavement. With this new lighting, you looked even worse for wear, your bloody chest even more alarming now that they could actually get a good look at you.

“Shit. Will what- “

“I’ve got her Jay.” Will said firmly, looking him in the eye but his own were watery. That didn’t assure Jay as much as he wanted it to.

All of a sudden, before Jay could say anything, Will’s head snapped back towards you, his fingers going back to your pulse before moving even more forward, ducking his ear near your nose.

Will’s fast movements could only mean one thing. Before Will could even do anything, Jay already knew what was happening.

You weren’t breathing anymore.

Laying you flat on the pavement, Will winced as he placed his hands on your chest, apologising before he started chest compressions.

Each compression produced more blood, Will’s hands absolutely coated and dropping in your blood. It made him feel sick.

“Jay, I need you to take over.” Will said after some time had passed, his arms slowly starting to aching, knowing he had to take a minute before he could continue.

Kneeling on the opposite side of Will on the other side of your body, Will counting him in before he took over.

As soon as Will’s hands were off your chest, they were immediately replaced with Jay’s, almost as if it wasn’t two different people.

Will’s fingers were sticky, your blood dripping down his fingers, glued under his nails and coating his sleeves. It felt so surreal.

“Alright Jay, swap back with me on three.” Will told his brother after two minutes, not wanting him to get too tired either.

Jay’s hands were in the same state when he stopped.

“Will, its so much blood.” His voice was shaky, reality setting in as Will continued chest compressions when nothing changed.

Will only looked up at Jay with a certain glint in his eyes that he hadn’t seen since their dad died-

“Will she’s-“

The blaring sirens cut him off, blue and red lights blinding them as the appeared around the corner.

Jay got up, walking towards the newcomers when he recognised the cars in front.

“Jay, what happened?” Hank asked, approaching his detective first. His eyes clocking Jay’s bloody hands before asking “Who-“

“It’s Y/N.” Jay said, leading Intelligence and the paramedics towards the scene. “She’s been shot. I think she got caught in a shooting- she’s lost so much blood and she’s not breathing anymore but there’s no culprits anywhere and-“

“Jay, it’s okay, we’ve got this.” Hank physically had to stop the younger man, looking him straight in the eye. “We’re gonna get them, I promise.”

Hank never made promises, it was sworn off by every first responder but everyone knew that Voight never broke his promises.

“Alright Desmond, on my count I need you to take over for me.” Will said, taking charge as soon as the familiar paramedics joined him.

Instantly complying, the paramedic took over the compressions, letting Will sit back on his toes. “We need to shock her, she’s gone without a pulse for nearly thirteen minutes.”

Both paramedics looked up at him knowingly, their sombre faces ones which Will purposefully ignored even with the bitterness heavy on his tongue.

“Will I’m sorry but…”

*****

You were now connected to the portable monitor in the ambulance and to hear the repeating beeps, signalling there was no heartbeat only made things more real. But Will hadn’t given up, even with the sympathetic looks he received from the two paramedics.

Jay had joined them in the back of the ambulance, leaving the crime scene in the capable hands of Intelligence and with the promise that he’d be kept in the loop.

In what felt like recording breaking speed, they arrived at Med. Wasting no time, the stretcher was pulled out the ambulance, Desmond swapping places with Will on top of the stretcher over your body, who now took over the chest compressions.

“Maggie, is Baghdad open?” Will asked, raising his voice as they rolled into the ED, his back to all his colleagues.

“It’s all yours. Connor, Ethan!” The two men were already moving before Maggie had even called out their names.

“She’s been shot in the chest, the bullets still inside. Pulse was weak before it was lost, been doing CPR ever since and was shocked twice in between.”

“How long Will?” Connor asked, looking at the redhead worriedly, eyeing the bloody states of all three Halstead siblings. “Will, how long has she been unconscious?”

But Will never replied. “Ethan, come here and take over.”

The Korean shared a knowingly glance with the trauma surgeon but obliged anyways.

Stepping back, Will stood besides Maggie who was hooking you up to all the monitors necessary.

“The bleeding finally stopped en route.”

“When was she shot?” Connor asked, surveying the rest of your body for any other bullet wounds.

“We, we don’t know.” Will’s voiced cracked from the emotion and uncertainty. “Gosh, it’s been over fourteen minutes since.”

Will physically couldn’t find it in himself to finish the sentence.

“Okay, paddles Maggie.”

*****

Both brothers were forced out the treatment room and Will could not convince Maggie to change her mind one bit.

“She’s in good hands. Ethan and Connor will be in surgery for hours so I need you two to rest.”

Will and Jay were way too tense, their faces grim at the unknown future of their younger sister.

“Let’s wash your hands first and get into a change of clothes.” Maggie was as gentle as she would be with kids, smiling softly as she helped the brothers somewhat get their shit together.

The blood wouldn’t wash away. It remained stuck under their nails, speckles stubborn like glitter. Knowing your blood was on their hands, it was gut wrenching.

Will always kept a change of clothes in his locker. He and Jay rid of their stained shirts with whatever was left in the locker but even in a new change of clothes and washed up, they still felt disgusting.

“Will…” Jay softly called his name, clearing his throat when his voice cracked. “What did they mean about not breathing for more than fourteen minutes?”

The doctor screwed his eyes shut at his younger brothers question. His tone insinuating that he knew but was in denial and wanted confirmation that his suspicions were wrong.  

“There’s-“ Will struggled to face reality, ripping off the bandage for his brother. “There’s a very low chance she makes it. And, and if she does there will be consequences- like, really bad side effects.”

Jay clenched his jaw, turning his head away to look out the doctors lounge window into the surprisingly mellow emergency department.

“We broke our promise.”

“I know.”

“What are we meant to do?”

Several beats passed before Jay received a reply, one in which caused silent tears to finally start falling.

“I don’t know.”

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Provider Discretion (LU in Healthcare)

(Lots of technical jargon in this one, lovelies, hope you don’t mind)

Something wasn’t right.

The patient herself was… okay. Mostly. She had called 911 because she’d had back pain that had just been getting worse, and she’d said she couldn’t even get around anymore.

Mo and Hyrule often exchanged a somewhat exasperated look when someone called an emergency line for something that had been an ongoing problem, but today this… was different. She just didn’t look well.

“I’m really sorry,” the patient apologized for the fourth time as Hyrule and Mo loaded the stretcher into the ambulance.

“It’s okay,” Hyrule quickly reassured her. His heart ached a little at how much this woman wanted to seem to shrink into oblivion. Even Mo, who, despite his big heart, often came across a little standoffish, had tried to make her smile multiple times. “This is what we’re here for.”

With a chief complaint of back pain, there wasn’t much to do outside of check vital signs. Mo could easily take this call. But Hyrule just… this felt wrong.

“Let’s get a 12-lead,” he said, already grabbing the cables for it while Mo got vitals. His partner didn’t argue, helping him place the leads in the right positions.

Vitals looked mostly fine. The patient’s blood pressure was high. She said she had a history of hypertension, so perhaps between that and her pain that would explain it. Though 180/98 did not make Hyrule particularly happy. But he couldn’t treat that.

The 12-lead showed normal sinus rhythm. Nothing wrong there. But something just didn’t feel right.

Grabbing the blood pressure cuff, Hyrule checked it again, but on the opposite side.

There was a discrepancy.

Hyrule and Mo looked at each other, eyebrows pinching. Mo took a manual on the left. Hyrule took a manual on the right.

They still didn’t match.

Feeling dread fill him, Hyrule told Mo, “I’m taking this call. Let’s get going. We don’t need lights but… just drive expediently, ok?”

The transport was blessedly uneventful. But the discrepancy remained. Her blood pressure was high, but higher on one side than the other. Coupling that with back pain…

Her aorta. Hyrule was worried about her aorta. The biggest artery in this woman’s entire body could getting ready to tear apart.

When Hyrule texted Warriors later, he got his answer.

Dissection. They rushed her to the OR. You pointing out the BP difference really tipped off the doc. Good catch.

Mo whistled. “Good thing she didn’t rupture in our truck.”

Hyrule blew out a breath. He was just thankful he trusted his gut.

XXX

The dispatch information had been for diabetic emergency. Fire had gotten there first, which Aurora was thankful for since she and Dawn were coming from the hospital and therefore farther away than if they’d responded from the station.

When they arrived, the house was a nightmare. The street was so narrow that the ambulance and fire truck blocked the road entirely, the stairs were so narrow Aurora felt like she had to squeeze her arms in just to climb up them, and the turns were so sharp she wasn’t sure how any kind of equipment could get up there. The patient was lying on his bed, altered, and unable to move.

According to the patient’s friend, he’d heard him fall and came up to check on him. He knew he was a diabetic and figured his blood glucose had to be low. Fire had already checked it, saying it was over two hundred. As the firefighter paramedic gave information to Aurora, he said, “He could be acting like this because of his sugar. Could be a stroke. We’re not sure.”

Honestly, Aurora couldn’t see the patient all that well from her vantage point. Dawn had already walked in and started assessing, they’d handed a reeves stretcher to the firemen, and they were working on loading him on to it. The girl went downstairs to prep the stretcher for their arrival. Once they managed to get the patient into the ambulance, Aurora stared.

This man’s entire right side of his face was noticeably drooping. He was moving his head a little to the left, eyes somewhat moving, pupils equal. Aurora quickly asked him to look at her, to follow her finger. While he could stare at her, he couldn’t track at all, and his eyes wouldn’t move to the right. He blinked once while attempting, and was only able to blink his left eye.

Who the hell thought this could be his sugar??

Once Dawn got in the truck, they were quick to get vitals and a 12-lead. He was hypertensive, all other vitals fine.

“We need to stroke alert this,” Aurora immediately said.

“But he was last seen normal three hours ago,” Dawn said uncertainly. “Isn’t that outside the window? Or is the window four hours now?”

“I think it’s four,” Aurora answered. “And it doesn’t matter either way. This is absolutely a neuro issue. Drive us hot, okay?”

Dawn nodded, heading to the front. She drove to the hospital with the lights and sirens on, allowing them a faster transport time, while Aurora called it in to the hospital. As they progressed, she tried to get the patient to follow commands, but he couldn’t. He held up his right arm but couldn’t hold his left up at all, and he still didn’t really track any movement.

When they arrived at the hospital, they were placed in a major room, transferring him quickly to the hospital bed. Warriors was charge that night, working on coordinating all the help they’d need for this patient. The ED physician entered, looking the patient over, and then turned to Aurora, asking, “So what makes you think he’s having a stroke?”

Aurora stopped in mid motion, looking at him with the most enraged and bewildered expression. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Why do you think he’s having a stroke?” The doctor repeated.

“What makes you think he isn’t?!” Aurora snapped, completely mind blown that this was even a debate. “His face is drooping so low it’s hitting the earth’s fucking crust, he’s altered, not tracking movement, blinking with one eye, down on one side, is hypertensive, and you’re asking why I—do you even know what a stroke is??”

“Let’s just alert it,” Warriors said calmly as he walked into the room, clearly sensing that the paramedic was about to explode. “It’ll get us a CT to rule it out.”

Aurora was fuming, and she stormed out before she could hear a response. Dawn tried to gently check on her, only to be subjected to her ranting for the next hour.

Later, Warriors texted Hyrule, who relayed the message. “You were right.”

“OF FUCKING COURSE I WAS!”

XXX

Legend wasn’t particularly a fan of working triage.

There were aspects of it that were exciting - he was the one to make first contact with patients who didn’t come in via ambulance, and he determined their acuity. But there was also a public relations aspect to it, a patience dealing with impatient people, a kindness and sympathy for those who were genuinely hurting or needing help but had to wait anyway. It was understandable, but public relations… was not Legend’s forte.

There was a reason he was put in triage, though.

It wasn’t always obvious, what was wrong with someone. But there were times when a patient just didn’t look right. Legend saw the man limp over, listened to him as he explained that he had some leg pain that had been going on for the last few days, how he thought maybe he’d strained a muscle but the pain hadn’t improved.

There were always signs to look out for. Little things, cues that something was off. The man looked resigned, reluctant; he clearly had been talked in to coming to the hospital, and he commented that his wife insisted on it. Legend saw the clothes he wore, heard the accent he spoke with, saw his muscles, and pieced together that he was probably a farmer.

Farmers never came to the hospital.

“We’ll get you back as soon as we can,” he finally said after completing his assessment. Usually, this patient would be low on the acuity scale—a muscle spasm or strain was not nearly as important as a heart attack, pneumonia, sepsis, strokes, traumas—but Legend made him a yellow rather than a green. Just to be sure.

That higher acuity score got him a room far faster. That faster room made a doctor assess him and notice that his left leg was bigger than his right. That doctor made sure he got an ultrasound of his leg, found clots in his leg. She also learned the man was short of breath sometimes, which his wife insisted was new, and got a CT scan.

Legend glanced at his chart later to see him being admitted. Confused and curious, he did some digging.

The man had a pulmonary embolism.

Huffing with a small smile of satisfaction, Legend closed out of the chart as another patient approached.

XXX

Time had to admit, he did not spend as much time assessing his patients as he should. His hours were stolen away in the OR, unpredictable and chaotic as his line of work was. So sometimes he didn’t get to round, sometimes he didn’t have a chance to walk in and chat with the patients and the nurses and the licensed independent providers who took charge of their care.

Today he was glad he did.

The patient was actually calm and pleasant, had little complaint of anything except for some lower back pain. In the world of uncomfortable hospital beds, it wasn’t a huge surprise.

But Time saw something. Some staining, bruising, around the patient’s groin. He peeked around their gown, turned them a little, and saw it.

Their groin was purple. He asked the nurse, who said they were told this had been baseline for a day or two, and that the independent providers over them had acknowledged the finding and moved on.

Time walked into the doc box where the providers were. “I want a CT abdomen for room 3. She’s got some bruising that’s concerning. Her H&H has been down trending steadily.”

“Her JP drains haven’t put out much,” the physician assistant noted, looking over the patient’s chart.

“She might have a retroperitoneal bleed,” Time pointed out. “Let’s just be sure.”

Years of education and even more years of experience had taught the trauma surgeon well. The war was especially humbling and educational. So when he got a text from the PA that the patient did indeed have a retroperitoneal, he wasn’t surprised. But he was disappointed that he had to be the one to notice it.

Sometimes, he supposed, it took the leader to point out the problem.

XXX

Four… didn’t like this.

Report had been bad enough. The day shift nurse spoke of how the patient had been previously septic and was recuperating well before her pressor demand had gone up during the day. She looked… not great. She was so edematous they were constantly changing the sheets underneath her arms because her body was leaking fluid from every inch of itself - they had dumped fluids into her over the last few days just to maintain her blood pressure. She was on a lasix drip to get her lot o pee off the fluid as best as possible, and her kidney function was… decent, but not great.

As Four assessed her, the clenching his chest only worsened. She was alert, oriented, a little miserable but trying to be in good spirits, bless her. She was peeing a decent amount, her pulses were present despite the swelling, her lung sounds were a little coarse but overall mostly clear. Her abdomen was soft and non-tender, her pupils were equal and reactive, and she didn’t have much complaint of pain aside from being sick of laying in bed, which Four could understand.

But still. This just… didn’t look great.

As the night progressed, the woman’s pressor need climbed. Four continued to increase epinephrine, increase norepinephrine. He tried not to increase the vasopressin too much as it had such a profound effect on vasoconstriction that it could cause necrosis. Also, the woman had a history of heart failure and had a pretty weak heart.

Four eventually went to the resident in charge of the patient for the night. “Hey. Can we maybe give 11 some albumin? She has plenty of fluid to give, but clearly it isn’t in her vasculature - she’s peeing ok but her pressure isn’t tolerating it. I feel like it could help.”

The resident shuffled on his feet uncertainly. “The surgeon really wants to make sure we can get this fluid off. I’d rather keep her negative and not give her more fluid, you know?”

“Yeah, I get that,” Four greed before continuing, “But albumin is only 250mL, and if it helps suck in the fluid that’s third spacing, it’ll still help. We’re dumping fluid in her through the pressors anyway.”

The resident continued to waffle, before the night attending asked, “She’s on vaso, right?”

“Yes.”

“Just go up on that.”

Four stared a moment longer, starting to doubt himself. He hadn’t been a nurse for long, and if an attending physician was saying this, then… it had to be true, right?

Sighing, he went back to the room and did as he was told. The patient’s blood pressure improved well enough, and the night progressed fine.

The next night was not as fine. At rounds, Four suggested that perhaps she should be lined for CRRT, a continuous dialysis that would allow for Four to control how much fluid they were pulling and would likely be better for the patient to tolerate. The night doctors shrugged, saying they’d mention it to the day team.

Again, the woman’s blood pressure was tanking. Again, Four had to increase pressors. Vaso had been turned down and was told to be left alone because the woman’s systemic vascular resistance was so high the attending was worried about her heart. (Four couldn’t help but feel a little bitter about it, because he knew that was going to happen)

This time, though, she went into atrial fibrillation as well. As Four called the resident and attending into the room, they deliberated the matter, muttering, “Maybe we should line her for CRRT.”

Four blinked. Stared. Was he… losing his mind?? Was he invisible? He’d suggested this earlier!

Ultimately, Four had managed to keep the patient stable enough so that it wasn’t needed. Ultimately, the shift ended uneventfully.

But when Four came back for his third night, he could hear the woman’s breathing from the door, he could hear how she was drowning in fluid because she couldn’t tolerate losing fluid but had too much for her lungs and heart to handle. The day team had lined her for CRRT, but her pressors were almost maxed out at their dosage, and she was so hypotensive that the renal nurse who had set up the machine was hesitant to start it up, saying it would further bottom out her pressure.

Tonight was different, though. Tonight, the provider in charge of making decisions and orders was a nurse practitioner, someone who was used to this unit. She walked in, saw the issues Four had seen, and she walked right back out, making a call.

Four struggled to keep the patient alive long enough for the ECMO team to arrive as the patient fell apart. He felt frustration boil his blood as he had to hand off her care after fighting for her, had to watch as the CV ICU nurse came in to take over while surgeons put large cannulas into the patient’s body to redirect blood flow around her heart so she could still perfuse her organs. He watched as they wheeled her out of the trauma ICU to go to the cardiac ICU where she would remain while on such extreme support, and he threw his pen on the desk, burying his face in his hands, fuming.

They should have listened to him.

[ageless-aislynn]

Hey, friends, just a quick note. I had to call 911 for my dad a few nights ago and he's been in the hospital ever since. He had a triple bypass many years ago but has done really well since then. However, he recently started having some issues with a racing, irregular heartbeat and his blood pressure shooting sky high and they've determined that he has atrial fibrillation aka afib. They're trying him on some new medications to hopefully be able to treat it that way.

It's worrisome because he has a list of medicine allergies about as long as my arm, most of them heart related. Also, they're upping the blood thinner he's on and, well, he's 80 years old and severe bleeding will now be even more of a risk. But since afib can cause a stroke, among other things, that's the best defense against it.

Anyway, prayers, good thoughts, well wishes etc. all very welcome now. I'm scared for him but I'm trying to be strong. Love you all, will check in again whenever I can.

[chronic-gastro-illness-culture]

Dealing with Chronic Gastro Pain

Explaining Pain Levels

The pain scale actually has standard explanations which divides pain into three categories ranging from mild for lower numbers, moderate to cover the middle numbers, and severe for numbers above seven. Even this isn’t very clear, however, because as previously stated mild or moderate pain means different things to different people. Most of us need a way to break down those categories a little further:

⚠️ Mild Pain. On the pain scale, this level of pain ranges between numbers one and three, and can be categorized as nagging or annoying. You are aware that it’s there, but it doesn’t necessarily interfere with life on a daily basis and you are able to carry on with most of the activities you enjoy. Pain at the level of 1 is barely noticeable, at level 2 it’s a little stronger and can be annoying, Level 3 pain can be distracting but you can adapt and manage despite it.

✴️ Moderate Pain. At this level, pain starts to interfere with daily life. At level 4, it’s distracting but you can ignore it when you are very interested in something else. At level 5, it’s hard to ignore and takes a lot of effort to work or mix socially with friends. With level 6 pains, you have difficulty concentrating and it stops you getting on with normal daily activities.

🚨 Severe Pain. Severe pain is that which is disabling, preventing you from performing normal activities during the day or night. At level 7, pain stops you sleeping. Either you can’t get to sleep at all or it will wake you during the night, and keeping up with social relationships is very difficult. When it intensifies to level 8, pain makes even holding a conversation extremely difficult and your physical activity is severely impaired. Pain is said to be at level 9 when it is excruciating, prevents you speaking and may even make you moan or cry out. Level 10 pain is unbearable. You will be bedridden and possibly even delirious.

[ SOURCE: https://ercare24.com/understanding-pain-levels/?amp=1 ]

When To Use The Emergency Room

🚨 Signs Of An Emergency

How quickly do you need care? If a person or unborn baby could die or be permanently disabled, it is an emergency.

Call 911 or the local emergency number to have the emergency team come to you right away if you cannot wait, such as for:

Choking

Stopped breathing

Head injury with passing out, fainting, or confusion

Injury to neck or spine, particularly if there is loss of feeling or inability to move

Electric shock or lightning strike

Severe burn

Severe chest pain or pressure

Seizure that lasted more than 1 minute or from which the person does not rapidly awaken

Go to an emergency department or call 911 or the local emergency number for help for problems such as:

Trouble breathing

Passing out, fainting

Pain in the arm or jaw

Unusual or bad headache, particularly if it started suddenly

Suddenly not able to speak, see, walk, or move

Suddenly weak or drooping on one side of the body

Dizziness or weakness that does not go away

Inhaled smoke or poisonous fumes

Sudden confusion

Heavy bleeding

Possible broken bone, loss of movement, particularly if the bone is pushing through the skin

Deep wound

Serious burn

Coughing or throwing up blood

Severe pain anywhere on the body

Severe allergic reaction with trouble breathing, swelling, hives

High fever with headache and stiff neck

High fever that does not get better with medicine

Throwing up or loose stools that does not stop

Poisoning or overdose of drug or alcohol

Seizures

If you are thinking about hurting yourself or others, call or text 988 or chat 988lifeline.org. You can also call 1-800-273-8255 (1-800-273-TALK). The 988 Suicide and Crisis Lifeline provides free and confidential support 24/7, anytime day or night.

You can also call 911 or the local emergency number or go to the hospital emergency room. DO NOT delay.

If someone you know has attempted suicide, call 911 or the local emergency number right away. DO NOT leave the person alone, even after you have called for help.

✴️ When To Go To An Urgent Care Clinic

When you have a problem, do not wait too long to get medical care. If your problem is not life threatening or risking disability, but you are concerned and you cannot see your provider soon enough, go to an urgent care clinic.

The kinds of problems an urgent care clinic can deal with include:

Common mild illnesses, such as colds, the flu, earaches, sore throats, migraines, low-grade fevers, and limited rashes

Minor injuries, such as sprains, back pain, minor cuts and burns, minor broken bones, or minor eye injuries

⚠️ If You Are Not Sure, Talk To Someone

If you are not sure what to do, and you don't have one of the serious conditions listed above, call your provider. If the office is not open, your phone call may be forwarded to someone. Describe your symptoms to the provider who answers your call, and find out what you should do.

Your provider or health insurance company may also offer a nurse telephone advice hotline. Call this number and tell the nurse your symptoms for advice on what to do.

✅ Prepare Now

Before you have a medical problem, learn what your choices are. Check the website of your health insurance company. Put these telephone numbers in the memory of your phone:

Your provider

The closest emergency department

Nurse telephone advice line

Urgent care clinic

Walk-in clinic

[ SOURCE: https://medlineplus.gov/ency/patientinstructions/000593.htm ]

Visiting the ER for Chronic Pain

How to reduce stress and suspicion when seeking chronic pain medications.

1. Make sure that you have a regular physician who treats your chronic pain.

That’s a relationship that all chronic pain patients should establish before they ever set foot in an emergency room, Blumstein says. But many people don’t have a doctor, he says, “and it looks really bad from a doctor’s point of view when a patient comes in and says, ‘Oh, I have this terrible chronic pain,’ and the doctor says, ‘Who’s taking care of this terrible chronic pain?’ and the patient says, ‘Oh, I don’t have a doctor.’”

“Before you get into a situation where there’s an exacerbation of your condition, make sure you have a regular doctor treating you,” he says.

2. Show that you’ve tried to contact your regular doctor before you go to the ER.

If you’ve been in pain for five days and have not alerted your doctor, the ER staff will question how bad your pain really is, Blumstein says. Even if the pain struck just that day, make an effort to contact your regular doctor first, he suggests.

ER staff will be more sympathetic to patients who have called their doctors and been told to go to the emergency room because the doctor was unable to see them, Blumstein says. “At least you’re showing you made an effort. You’re using the emergency room as your treatment of last resort, as opposed to the primary place you go for pain medication.”

3. Bring a letter from your doctor.

“A letter from your physician, with a diagnosis and current treatment regimen, is a reasonable thing to carry with you,” Fraifeld says. “Particularly if you’re on chronic opioids in today’s atmosphere, I would highly recommend that to patients.”

Make sure the letter has your doctor’s name and phone number, Blumstein says. That way, if ER doctors want to contact your physicians, they can. A letter is especially useful if you’re traveling or going to a hospital that you’ve never visited before.

It’s fine to bring medical records, too, Fraifeld says. But don’t overdo it, Blumstein says. “I’ve had patients come in with tons of records -- I mean, you could measure the stack in inches. It just looks like you’re going overboard.”

4. Bring a list of medications.

Bring a list of your medications, instead of relying on memory, Blumstein says.

Fraifeld takes it one step further and suggests that patients bring the drugs. “Take all the pain prescriptions with you -- the actual bottles -- not just the list,” he says. “[Patients], I’m sad to say, highly contribute to their own problems by not even being able to tell physicians exactly what they’re getting and when they got it and whom they got it from.”

5. Work cooperatively with emergency room staff.

“It might not be fair, but if a patient comes in screaming and shouting that they need pain medication right away, the staff isn’t going to like it. It calls negative attention to yourself,” Blumstein says. “And it is unfair, because you might be having agonizing pain, and why shouldn’t you speak up for yourself, right? But a lot of staffs don’t like it and they don’t respond well to it. So rather than demand things, try to work cooperatively with the staff.”

[ SOURCE: https://www.webmd.com/pain-management/guide/whats-causing-my-chest-pain ]

Stomach Pain

For mild abdominal pain, call your doctor first. If the pain is sudden, severe or does not ease within 30 minutes, seek emergency medical care.

Sudden abdominal pain is often an indicator of serious intra-abdominal disease, such as a perforated ulcer or a ruptured abdominal aneurysm, although it could also result from a benign disease, such as gallstones.

Continuous, severe abdominal pain—or abdominal pain accompanied by continuous vomiting—may indicate a serious or life-threatening condition, such as one of the types described below.

Symptoms of appendicitis may include severe pain (usually in the lower right abdomen, but may start anywhere in the abdomen), loss of appetite, nausea, vomiting or fever. Treatment generally requires urgent surgical removal of the appendix. Long delays in treatment can cause serious complications resulting from perforation (rupture) of the appendix, which can lead to a life-threatening infection.

Symptoms of an ectopic pregnancy include severe abdominal pain and vaginal bleeding. In an ectopic pregnancy, a fertilized egg has implanted outside of the normal site in the “womb” or uterus, such as in the fallopian tubes.

Symptoms of acute pancreatitis usually include pain in the middle upper abdomen that may last for a few days. The pain may become severe and constant, or it may be sudden and intense. It may also begin as mild pain that gets worse when food is eaten. Other symptoms include nausea, a swollen and tender abdomen, fever and a rapid pulse.

[ SOURCE: https://www.emergencyphysicians.org/article/know-when-to-go/stomach-pain ]

[reyesstrand]

beginnings week

thanks for the tag @lonestar-s5countdown & @herefortarlos :-)

which 911 lone star season premiere is your favorite?

ooh this is tough….i really do think the pilot is such a solid episode and i love all of it, but i think 3x01 might just edge it out? the way we’re dropped into the action with so many fractured relationships and the rising tension of the threat of the ice storm with grace being so pregnant and the knowledge tk would be in peril again was so good.

which character do you think had the best introduction or first scene in the show?

normally my answer would be everyone because they all have such good introductions, especially throughout the pilot, but i think i’d say tommy actually!! watching in real time as gina was announced during the hiatus was so interesting and i loved how they made her a seasoned captain going back to work to support her family while also just making her so so endearing and complex and fun to watch.

what is your favorite moment of 1x01?

i love so much of it…. the montage of everyone being recruited, the quieter character moments like tk and owen’s rooftop conversation and judd and owen’s ptsd talk and grace seeking out owen outside the honky tonk. and the honky tonk!!!! i love that as a moment where everyone starts meshing. (i also will neither confirm nor deny that them ending the episode unironically with old town road made me realize i had already signed over my life to this silly show)

when did you first start watching lone star and how did you find out about it?

i saw gifs from the first three episodes, but specifically the call with the bigoted woman and the 126 dealing with her and the police station scene, and decided to binge those episodes all in like one day. started watching live with episode four, now here we are!

what is one wish you have for the season 5 premiere?

i just hope we get to see some slowness and some light-hearted moments thrown throughout the episode before the high-stakes drama of the train derailment starts! i’m pretty sure we’re going to see a time jump of some sorts so it would be cool to see the immediate aftermath of the end of season four before that jump. i’d love to see a couple just truly happy moments for tarlos before they undoubtedly Go Through It (which i’m here for!! but just let them be all mushy and husband-y at least once ajdnsjd) and i’d love some fun 126 moments :’)

no pressure tagging @strandnreyes @paperstorm @carlos-in-glasses @butchreyes @theghostofashton @carlos-tk @lutavero @captain-gillian @whatsintheboxmh @heartstringsduet @pelorsdyke @nancys-braids @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @alrightbuckaroo @corsage @tellmegoodbye & open tag!!

[sarahrcrebecca0715]

Alex and Jordan had been together for four years, their relationship marked by a deep emotional connection and shared dreams. They lived in a chic, urban apartment, a cozy sanctuary filled with personal touches—a collection of framed photographs from their travels, a collection of vinyl records, and soft, ambient lighting that created a warm atmosphere.

One evening, as the sun set and the city lights began to twinkle outside their window, Alex and Jordan decided to have a special night in. They cooked a dinner together, laughing and dancing in the kitchen, their joy palpable. Afterward, they settled into their bedroom, where the mood was intimate and tender. The evening was meant to be a celebration of their love—a moment of closeness and connection.

As Alex and Jordan lay together, their passion intensifying, Jordan suddenly gasped and collapsed. Alex was startled at first, thinking it might be a playful moment, but the realization quickly dawned that Jordan was unresponsive. Panic surged through Alex as they tried to rouse Jordan, shaking them gently, but to no avail.

Alex's heart raced as they noticed Jordan's lips were turning blue, and their chest was still. The horrifying truth set in: Jordan wasn’t breathing. Alex’s hands trembled as they remembered the basic steps of CPR from a first aid course they had taken years ago. Adrenaline surged as they placed Jordan on their back, positioning their hands on Jordan's chest, and began compressions. The pressure of the situation made each push feel like an eternity.

Alex’s mind was a whirlwind as they knelt beside Jordan, their breaths shallow and quick. Jordan's body lay on the cool floor, their once warm skin now alarmingly cold and colorless. The shock of the situation made every action feel both urgent and surreal.

Remembering the CPR steps from their first aid training, Alex positioned Jordan’s body flat on the ground. The floor seemed unyielding beneath their knees as Alex placed the heel of one hand on the center of Jordan’s chest, just below the nipple line. With the other hand, Alex interlocked their fingers on top and began compressions.

Alex applied their body weight, pushing down with firm, steady pressure. Each compression was met with resistance, and Alex could feel the slight give of Jordan’s sternum beneath their hands. They counted out loud, "One, two, three, four," their voice trembling with every number. The rhythm was critical—two compressions per second, each depression about two inches deep, a mechanical dance to keep the blood circulating.

Sweat beaded on Alex’s forehead, their arms aching with each push. Their breathing was ragged, but they focused on the task at hand, trying to maintain the correct rate and depth. Between compressions, Alex would tilt Jordan’s head back to open the airway, pinching the nose and giving two rescue breaths. They pinched their lips together, making a tight seal, and breathed into Jordan’s mouth, watching for the rise of the chest with each breath. The whole process was a grueling cycle of hope and exhaustion

While performing CPR, Alex’s hands were shaking, but they managed to dial 911. The dispatcher’s calm voice provided instructions, but every second felt like an eternity. Alex followed the advice, continuing compressions while trying to stay as composed as possible. They communicated their location and Jordan’s condition with a shaky but determined voice.

The arrival of the paramedics was a moment of mixed relief and anxiety. The bright flash of their ambulance lights and the loud, urgent sound of the sirens filled the apartment with a sense of both hope and foreboding. The paramedics, clad in their uniforms and armed with medical equipment, moved with practiced precision.

One paramedic quickly assessed Jordan’s condition, while another prepared the defibrillator. The device was a sleek, high-tech machine with pads and wires ready to deliver electric shocks. The paramedics worked seamlessly together, their movements swift and sure.

Alex watched with bated breath as the paramedics attached electrode pads to Jordan’s bare chest—one on the upper right side and the other on the lower left. The paramedics used the defibrillator to analyze Jordan’s heart rhythm. The machine beeped and whirred, the display screen showing an erratic, disorganized heart rhythm.

A paramedic called out, “Clear!” Everyone in the room stepped back. The defibrillator delivered a shock—a burst of electrical energy—through Jordan’s body. The force caused Jordan’s muscles to contract involuntarily, a sudden jolt that was both dramatic and unnerving.

The machine then displayed a rhythm, but Jordan’s heart did not sustain a normal rhythm. The paramedics repeated the process, reapplying CPR between shocks. Each cycle of defibrillation was punctuated by the mechanical sounds of the machine and the urgent commands of the paramedics. The defibrillator continued to analyze Jordan’s heart rhythm, each attempt a mix of hope and despair.

The room was a frenetic mix of beeping monitors, medical jargon, and Alex’s quiet sobs as they observed the paramedics’ relentless efforts. Each shock from the defibrillator was followed by another round of chest compressions. The paramedics’ faces were set with determination, their hands moving in a well-practiced rhythm as they alternated between CPR and defibrillation.

Alex’s emotional state fluctuated between optimism and desperation. They saw the defibrillator’s screen occasionally show a brief improvement in the rhythm, only for Jordan’s heart to falter again. The process was exhaustive—both physically for the paramedics and emotionally for Alex.

After several intense cycles, the defibrillator’s analysis finally showed a more stable rhythm. The paramedics prepared to transport Jordan to the hospital. They placed Jordan on a stretcher and connected them to additional monitoring equipment, their faces a mix of cautious optimism and professional detachment.

Alex, still reeling from the ordeal, stood by Jordan’s side as they were wheeled out. The sense of relief was tempered by the lingering fear of the unknown. Alex watched as the ambulance doors closed, their mind filled with a jumble of thoughts and emotions.

The hospital was a different kind of chaos—bright lights, beeping monitors, and the constant movement of medical staff. Alex sat in the waiting room, feeling like a spectator to their own nightmare. The sterile environment contrasted sharply with the warm intimacy of their home.

As hours ticked by, Alex’s thoughts were a whirlwind of memories and fears. They recalled the countless moments of joy and love they had shared with Jordan and wondered if this would be the end of their story. When the doctor finally arrived, the gravity of their words hit hard. Jordan’s condition was critical but stable, with a long road to recovery ahead.

Jordan’s recovery was slow and arduous. They were in a medically induced coma initially to stabilize their condition. When Jordan finally woke, their journey to recovery was marked by physical therapy, emotional support, and a series of medical evaluations. Alex was by their side through every step, offering support and encouragement.

The experience brought Alex and Jordan closer together. They had always been a loving couple, but the near-loss had deepened their appreciation for one another. They spent countless hours talking, sharing their fears and hopes, and reimagining their future together.

Jordan’s recovery was a testament to their strength and the power of love. The couple faced the challenges of rehabilitation together, their bond strengthened by the shared ordeal. Each small victory was celebrated with renewed gratitude and joy.

As Jordan continued to heal, Alex and Jordan emerged from the experience with a renewed sense of commitment. The trauma had transformed their relationship, infusing it with a deeper understanding of life’s fragility and the importance of cherishing each moment together.

Their future was now seen through the lens of resilience and hope. They embraced each day with a newfound appreciation for the gift of life and the strength of their love. The near-tragic event became a cornerstone of their shared journey, a reminder of the second chance they had been given and the enduring power of their bond.

[xanadontit]

My aunt (dad’s youngest sister) has had some kind of medical event and was airlifted to a hospital out of town with a faint pulse and put on life support. My dad didn’t have much information beyond that; apparently she was able to call 911 for herself when she didn’t feel right and by the time the ambulance got to her she was unconscious in her home.

My uncle (dad’s older brother) is the closest to her geographically and listed as her emergency contact so he was called and informed of what’s happening. My aunt is widowed with no children and none of the three siblings (there’s another sister in WA) know of any existing medical directive or power of attorney and they’re all kind of like “So… what do we do? What CAN we do?”

And because I am an asshole I (after telling my dad I’m so sorry to hear this) went in on my dad about how this is why I’ve been on his case to get some stuff into place. They have no estate plan at all. Every time I think about it for more than five minutes I feel my blood pressure spike. It’s so irresponsible!

My dad acknowledged it’s well past due and said we should sit down and talk next week and like, sir, you need to find an attorney* and talk to them and then let me know where the documents are or give me a copy (or whoever they want to take charge). You and your wife should discuss what you want and make a list of questions to ask the attorney and just go do it.

Anyway, leave it to my family to wait for a crisis in order to handle a relatively simple errand.

*My dad’s best friend from high school does this for a living oh my GOD why has this been so hard? I also worked for an estate attorney for three years and could have gotten them a sweet deal.

[exhuastedpigeon]

WIP tag game!

Rules: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

A * means I've worked on the WIP in the last couple of weeks

My WIPs Buddie:

I'll Show You Magic*

NHL AU*

PR Disaster *

High School Never Ends

Beer league

I'll tell you my sins*

The Patron Saint of Evan Buckley

The Repression Symphony*

Baseball AU

Ghost hunters AU

hot blood in my pulsing veins

show me devotion

Buddie 3-some

You never touched me, but I felt you everywhere

Timeloop x2

scratch on the moon, like a familiar smile*

make this house a home

Same age

Easy As Lovers Go

Steddie:

Class of '86*

Tattoo fic

What kind of magic spell to use?

I think I love you in all possible lives

Sterek:

Pinch me like a crab*

Hunter!Stiles

Townie - the summer romance that might not end

I'm not going to tag 25 people because that feels like a lot, but I will (no pressure) tag - @thewolvesof1998 @malewifediaz @spotsandsocks @spagheddiediaz @eddiebabygirldiaz @monsterrae1 @loserdiaz @watchyourbuck @underwater-ninja-13 @jamespearce9-1-1 @ladydorian05 @actualalligator @jesuisici33 @jeeyuns @cal-daisies-and-briars @callmenewbie @devirnis @rainbow-nerdss @thekristen999 @inell @rosieposiepuddingnpie @911-on-abc @butchdiaz and anyone else who wants to share!

[celestialcrowley]

Hi, everyone.

Prepare yourselves. This isn’t a happy post.

My aunt Pam flew from Chicago to Florida for her son’s wedding. I don’t have the exact details, but, from what I heard, certain family members didn’t even acknowledge her or were cross with her. Her blood pressure was apparently stroke level high.

She began having chest pains several days after the wedding, so 911 was called. That was Friday night. She was okay for a while right up until she wasn’t.

Her heart rate dropped to 20, so the nurses were like, “She’s going to code.” They ran in the room, and she did code. They tried for 45 minutes to revive her, but they were unsuccessful.

My aunt Karen called me at 5:44 Saturday morning to inform me.

It’s still so surreal. We were just talking about how she was going to be at our house for dinner over the weekend. I didn’t even get to see her, and she was here in Florida. The last time I talked to her was when she got her new puppy and when I was trying to plan a trip to Chicago next year.

[macgyvermedical]

I can't grab the screenshots but maybe you can see Buck in 911 6x11 here? aceofwhump.tumblr.com/ post /711820413271982080/9-1-1-6x11-in-another-life

I'm not sure if this is the one you were referring to (it wouldn't let me follow the link even when I took out the spaces) but it's definitely one from that episode.

This is a monitor that we usually use for pulse oxygen monitoring when a patient pretty much only needs a pulse ox and not other things like heart or temp monitoring. Pulse oxygen monitoring measures the percentage of hemoglobin (the protein in red blood cells that transport oxygen throughout the body) that has oxygen attached to it. It works by shining two wavelengths of light through a body part like a finger, earlobe, or toe, and compares what light is bounced back. Considering there are 2 other things in this picture that are also monitoring for a pulse ox, I'm not sure it's hooked up.

This is a ventilator screen. This shows when breaths are being taken, what settings the ventilator is on, etc... A medically induced coma (like Buck is in in this episode) means that the person is being continuously given very high doses of a drug (usually propofol, and if that fails, pentobarbital) that minimize the activity in the brain and particularly the amount of oxygen it needs to use. These are usually considered when someone has very high pressure inside their skull that can't be treated any other way. Since the brain is effectively set to extremely low power mode, someone in a medically induced coma cannot initiate breaths for themself, so the machine is usually set at it's most supportive setting, called "assist control". In assist control mode the machine initiates and delivers all the breaths.

This is a machine that cycles cold water through a blanket under the patient. These are used when a person's core temperature needs to be lower than it is. This might be due to heat stroke, to decrease oxygen demand on the heart after a heart attack, or to decrease oxygen demand in the brain after a head injury. In this case, it is probably the last one- along with the medically induced coma, the blanket is making Buck hypothermic so his body and brain use less oxygen and decrease the pressure in his skull.

These are the ventilator hoses. They are connected to a tube that goes down Buck's throat and into his lungs. The ventilator forces air through one of these hoses and the exhaled air comes out the other. The thing on Buck's face is both holding the tube in place and preventing him from biting the tube if he were to wake up.

This is a screen that shows Buck's vitals. He has electrodes on his chest, a blood pressure cuff on his arm, a pulse oxygen probe on one of his fingers, and probably a temperature probe in either his rectum or his bladder. He might also have a blood pressure probe in one of his arteries, and/or a probe surgically implanted in his skull measuring the pressure his brain is under (though I don't see either of these in the picture). This is where the information those probes are collecting is displayed. If one of these vitals goes out of a range set by the nurse, the machine will alarm.

This one is hard to see because there are people in the way, but this is an IV pump. When someone gets IV medications or fluids, a nurse programs one of these pumps to deliver the fluids or medications at a certain rate (usually in milliliters per hour). Someone in a medically induced coma would have probably several of these all delivering medications through an IV.

This is a Workstation on Wheels (WOW). These are essentially computers that can be rolled from room to room. Some of them have drawers where meds are kept, and most have a small surface where a nurse can prep meds or write things.

Feel free to send other screenshots!

[spidey0boi]

♡︎𐬿 Hold On ~ Part 1𐬿♡︎

description ༄ : After a large battle, Peter finds you injuryed and doesn’t know what to do.

couple : tom holland!peter parker x Y/N boy ✰

Warning: ⚠︎︎ Mentioned Gore and Blood, heavy description of wounds ⚠︎︎

Information about Y/N: is a boy in this imagine but feel free to change the gender when reading ♡︎

꧁✰☆✰꧂

Peter looked for you, he searched high and low, he couldn’t find you. He began to cry out your name as tears ran down his face, his heart racing from his anxiety and fear of losing you kicking in like a ticking time bomb.

‘Goddamn it, Y/N.’ He thought as he swung though-out the city, it all burnt from the massive battle you both were just in. He needed to find you, he couldn’t find you on his tracker either. He was starting to think of all the horrible and terrible things that could of happened to you.

“Y/N!!” He cried out, his voice raw and full of fear and pain.

“P-P-P…P-Peter..” You groan out from under a rock, weakly lifting your out, blood dripping down your arm, tears escaping your eyes as your whole body felt the pain.

You had two cracked ribs, a cut in your head, a stab in your side, your arm was broken and your foot was twisted. Your whole body was nearly shattered from the walls from the billing falling down on you, your lucky to be alive.

“Y/N!?” He yelled, jumping down to see your hand poking out from the rocks and broken building. Peter body filled with fear as he pulled off everything single last one of the rocks and walls pieces, not caring how much it was hurting himself, he was able to do things, you couldn’t. You needed him.

Peter finally reached you and he saw the mess you were in.. you choked on his breath. Holy shit. Your were a mess.

Blood was all over you, a thick pile of blood on the floor and it gushing out your side where you had been stabbed. You had blood dripping out your mouth and every time you coughed you would bring up more blood. You were a real mess and he couldn’t even describe the ways your bones looked.

“Y/N!?! What the fuck!?! Oh my god?!” He panicked, rushing down to your side, where he kneeled and ran a hand through your hair. You smiled, you had lost a tooth and Peter thought it even tho you were in pain, quite dorky the way you were smiling at him.

“Oh.. baby.. oh my god..” He muttered as he looked over you. He suddenly started to put pressure on your wound and you screamed out, that hurt. More blood spewed out your month from the pressure of your ribs being touched and forcing a cough out.

“Peter… I need an medic.” You whimper, hot and fresh tears rolling down your face.

“I know.. I know..” He said as he got his phone and began to type 911 but no one answered, the lines were busy. He sobbed and threw his phone, gripping his hair in stressed.

“Fuck!” He cried, smashing his hand into a wall as he panicked over you. Your grabbed his face and made him look at you as the boy was clearly in distress. You smiled at him, your face covered in blood and looking all beat up.

“Peter… It-.. fuck.” You coughed and spat out the too the side. “I’m okay.. I’m okay..” You cry slightly. You felt your body collapsing slowly.

“No, Don’t talk like that. Hold on.” He whispers, kissing your head and sobbing. He didn’t want you to die. He wanted you to live. You smiled and ran a hand through his hair, smiling weakly.

“No.. It’s okay.. Let me sleep.. I’ll wake up. I promise..” You muttered, your voice becoming weak.

“No! Don’t fall asleep!! HELP!? SOMEBODY HELP US!” He screamed as he brought you into his arms, rocking you.

You felt your eyes slowly flutter shut as you watched your boyfriend scream out for help as you fell asleep, you didn’t want to fall asleep thought. You could feel your heart beating fast, you couldn’t fall asleep..

you couldn’t..

you had too..

hold on..

“No.. NO Y/N!” He screamed as it went black.

꧁✰☆✰꧂

AN/ hey, hope y’all enjoyed this imagine :) let know if you want a part two <3

- S P I D E Y B O I.

[subverbaldreams]

I don’t have anywhere else to say this.

This weekend, after a fucking HORRIFIC day, I was on the way home with my husband.

I’d been having health issues. My blood pressure had been high recently: stage 2 hypertension. I’d started to try & get medical help, but with no PCP hadn’t gotten far.

In the car, I had radiating pain/tension in my left-side neck and jaw. My left arm became numb and tingling. I had reflux and nausea. I looked up heart attack symptoms on my phone and saw similarities. On the way home from a long day, the symptoms became impossible to ignore.

I asked my hubs to take me to an ER, just to be safe. He started driving faster.

Very suddenly, all my limbs went numb. The tingling felt like pain. I was calm, yet certain I was having a heart attack. All my body became distant and hurt unbearably. My vision grayed out. I’ve never felt so disconnected from my body, yet in so much pain. I said so out loud, from far away: “I think I’m dying.” I was certain I was going to die or have an unrecoverable event. My body stopped responding. I couldn’t speak. I was numb yet in horrible discomfort/pain. My husband was frantically on the phone with 911.

I said, “Pull over!” As soon as he did, I opened the door and started to vomit. In excruciating pain, I stumbled out of the car and laid on the grass along the highway. I puked into my hands; it pooled on my face and hands. I had zero control. I heard my husband talking to the dispatcher. I thought: I don’t want to leave him like this.

In some time (I don’t know how much), the agony in my limbs eased. The vomiting stopped. I pushed away from it and laid panting. I was covered in buckets of freezing sweat. I heard him telling the dispatcher that I was sweating and feverish. I thought: I’ve had a heart attack but maybe it’s salvageable now. Because I wasn’t feeling as much in pain and I was more cognizant.

Some cops showed up and asked what was going on, asked if I’d taken drugs or been drinking. By then, I could speak a little. Soon after, EMS arrived. They helped me up (it took 2 tries, my leg kept cramping) and I got onto the stretcher and strapped in. I was shaking uncontrollably. Once I got onto the stretcher, I started crying. The lady asked questions, asked about how I felt & how stressful had my day been (very).

While in the ambulance, the EMT told me my symptoms sounded like a panic attack. I said, “you’re fucking kidding me.” All of that, and it was just some brain shit. Not that I’m upset about being well, physically. I’m very grateful for that. I just hate being stuck with the “crazy” label.

I hadn’t been panicked. That’s the thing! The pain started, I couldn’t get away from it, then everything closed in and I was very calmly sure that it was the end. I had been certain I was going to die or be permanently altered, because I’d never felt something like that. I never knew a “panic attack” could come without actual feelings of fear. Apparently, just adrenaline and whatever else survival chemical. I genuinely thought I was going to die and all I could say was “I’m sorry” and “I love you” to the only man who’s had my back through everything.