#i have to get this MRI at least once a year for the rest of my life

[not-poignant]

would you be comfortable keeping us updated about your health results in the following months ?

Hi anon,

I don't generally update re: my health stuff in any consistent way here. I often have between 80-100+ medical appointments of some kind or other per year and I have too many actively treated/supported health conditions (over 15 -> I have more than this, these are just the ones being actively treated), that like... I'm not making this a health blog. It's a writing blog! Most of the health updates I make are over at the Fae Tales / writing Discord. But even there, I don't update about everything. (Some health stuff is just boring too, like, I'm anemic again? Must be a day ending in Y. Iron infusions are very repetitive, lol).

That being said, I do tend to update with health stuff when it impacts my writing, which is why I've been talking about it more lately, because my writing has absolutely been impacted from some new diagnoses from last November to now, which is really frustrating on a writing level, and also because it can impact my mood and output and readers can notice something's off. December was my lowest wordcount in over two years. And I've only written one chapter this month.

Right now I'm kind of having to force myself to work, because I need the money, so I can't afford to shut down the Patreon for a month or two (which is what I'd normally do in order to give myself a lengthy break), so I'm in the catch 22 of 'too sick to work to my normal levels, too poor to take a break from work to see if that helps because I need a lot of specialist medical stuff and some of it's expensive.' I do still like writing, but given more choice/freedom, I'd be taking time off to process some difficult diagnoses and some abrupt medication changes (I had to stop taking two meds that helped my quality of life and mental health immensely, and immediately onboard to two others that have notorious side effects, and that alone has been a struggle).

Though as a small update - I have 8 medical appointments in the next 10 days (one of those will result in 3 more referrals), and I'm 29 minutes away from leaving to go get my 45 minute head/neck MRI (complete with face cage and gadolinium) to see if my tumours have grown and to see if I've grown any more or if they've since metastasized. I have another MRI next week. The MRIs are thankfully due to Australia's healthcare free at least. But almost none of my other appointments are. I will probably end up having around 15+ medical appointments this month, so we're definitely starting the 80-100+ medical appointments per year off strong this year. x.x

For folks reading this, broadly, this is why there's been delays in responding overall to comments on AO3, why I'm not always getting to asks as soon as I normally do, and why I haven't been as 'chatty' as usual. I still love receiving asks/comments etc. please just be patient with me while I deal with everything. <3333

Er but yeah, tbh a lot of it is quite overwhelming for others. Like, if I actually kept people properly updated, I think some would feel not very happy, especially if they're just here for writing updates! So I try not to make too many 'health posts' unless I'm asked specifically? Anon, you are always welcome to ask for a health update <3 People can always scroll past it.

[elumish]

What Medical Stuff Feels Like (Scans and Stuff)

Content warning for general medical stuff, mention of IVs.

Also strong caveat that all of this is exactly one person's experience (mine) and so 1) may not be what you experience, 2) may not match up with other descriptions you've read, and 3) is not being written by a medical professional.

Ultrasound: For an ultrasound, they take an ultrasound wand (a one-handed thing with a smooth end and a wire attaching it to a machine), stick a bunch of goo on it, and then press it to whatever they're looking at and then have the machine collect images. The goo is usually cold, and they will usually apologize for it.

All of my experiences with this have been below the neck and above the pelvis. Depending on where they're pressing, it can hurt quite a bit--imagine having someone press something hard into your breast tissue or your ribs. How much it hurts definitely depends on what they're pressing on--things like the sternum and ribs hurt a lot more than places with a lot of fatty tissue.

You may or may not be shirtless for this--it depends on what they're looking for. For breast tissue or things in that range, you're generally in a patient shirt that you have either open over one breast or over both, and the other will sometimes be covered with a towel. For the rest of the abdomen, I've done it with my shirt pulled up and my pants down low enough for them to get to everything.

Once you're done, you wipe the goo off, but it also doesn't stain clothing (at least from my experience) and it doesn't irritate my skin. it just feels kind of weird.

I had to fast before an abdminal ultrasound but not a breast ultrasound, so it really depends.

My extremely hot take is that getting an abdominal ultrasound is my least favorite form of scan.

Echocardiogram: This is basically an ultrasound of your heart. That means the focus is on your left breast area, and if you have a lot of breast tissue, it means the tech is going to be awkwardly maneuvering it around/pressing on it pretty hard to get to the heart. I've had these twice--once, the tech was with a couple of doctors (or other techs? it's been like 8 years since then) and they were all making comments that I didn't understand about various parts of my heart. The second time, it was just the tech, and we occasionally made awkward small talk while he mashed an ultrasound wand into my breast.

Both of my echocardiogram techs have been men, and I will say that this is basically the least sexual experience you can have with a man while shirtless having them touch your breast. I think basically everywhere in the US you should be able to have an advocate in there with you, but I've never personally felt uncomfortable re: the shirtless in front of a male tech situation.

3D ultrasound: I once described a 3D ultrasound as if a dentist lamp was also a scanner and hated you. At least from the ones that I've experienced, they're essentially this weird giant thing that looks a lot like a dentist light on one of those moveable arms, and they cover everything with goo and then squish it against what they're taking scans of and then take the scans. It's less targeted than handheld ultrasounds but can get larger areas. I think there are also live 3D ultrasounds for things like pregnancy but I've never had that.

MRI: My favorite of the scans (unironically). For an MRI, you basically lie on a slab in a giant tube that makes horrible clanking noises for 45 minutes to an hour. Because they work using magnets, you can't have metal in or on you, so you have to take off all jewelry, earrings, etc. and then they ask a gazillion questions beforehand to make sure that there's nothing the magnets will disrupt (e.g., pacemaker) or will pull on (e.g., magnetic eyelashes). Twice, they had me change at least partially out of my street clothes; the last time I did it in my street clothes minus my bra, which felt vaguely illegal.

It's decently cold, so they generally offer a warmed blanket. At least for MRIs of the abdomen, there is a heavy thing that gets draped over your abdomen to basically make it pick up the images there (I don't really know how that works). To me, it feels kind of like a weighted blanket.

All of my MRIs have been since COVID started, though the first one was pre-masking; I wore a KN-95 in the MRI for my last one and had no issues re: the magnet.

Once you go in the tube, you basically just have to lie still for as long as the MRI goes. They will ask you if you are claustrophobic beforehand. It doesn't set of my claustrophia, but I imagine it happens a lot. They stick a ball in your hand for you to squeeze as basically an emergency stop/to notify them that you need out before it's done. They're also really bright, and at least from my experience, sometimes the paint is peeling a little. That doesn't matter, other than as something to stare at.

There are also headphones so they can give you instructions. For two of the three MRIs, they also played music (I listed to Taylor Swift for the last one). The headphones are kind of noise canceling, but nothing can block out the clanking, of which there is a lot, of various types, very loudly. The instructions will vary; one of the things they have you do for abdominal MRIs is hold your breath out, which feels very weird and is actually surprisingly hard--basically instead of inhaling and holding your breath, you exhale and then don't breathe back in until they tell you to. I can never hold it for as long as they say to, but it's never been an issue (at least as far as they've told me).

For some MRIs, they use contrast. Generally (maybe always?) they say that it's "with and without contrast" which means that they do the majority of it without contrast, and then they put the contrast in and take some more images. To get contrast, you need an IV, which they put in before you get in the machine. They attach the IV to a coil-y tube, which extends when you get moved into the machine. They generally hook it around your hand so it stays in place/doesn't pull against the IV site.

Contrast feels very weird. Someone mentioned this in one of the reblogs for the stabby stuff post, but basically it gets processed by your body really quickly so it goes to your bladder really quickly and also feels warm so it sort of feels like you've wet yourself. They warn you before they put it in.

Unironically, I find MRIs kind of relaxing, because you just lie still for like an hour under a weighted blanket. 4/10 would pick over the other options.

I have had a CT scan done but don't really remember it so would love someone to weigh in on those.

[lulubelle814]

Just Dizziness - Chapter 25

Tom's POV

The rest of the day went well.   In fact, I wasn't truly worried until she became tired.  Her long bouts of sleep or coma or whatever you call it, seemed to happen not only during her dizzy spells but also when she slept. I wanted to stand guard over her once she fell asleep, but I knew I could not, at least not for long and succumbed to slumber about an hour after her. 

I was woken up at some point in the middle of the night, her shaking me a bit. 

"Are you alright? What's wrong?"

She looked worried. "I am here, right? This is real? You're still here."

Holding her hands, I kissed her palms. "I assure you, dearest. You are here. I am here.  This is real, and I will always be here with you."

Your POV

Hearing him say that helped calm me down. I was so afraid to wake up and him not be there, that I would be somewhere else.  He held me, and we stayed up, watching the sun rise.  I'm not sure when I fell back asleep, but Tom woke me when Dr. Shepherd came by a couple hours later. 

"Good morning! And how are we doing today?"

I looked at Tom who then answered for me.  "She is doing better but does have some memory issues.   We haven't talked much about what she might remember yet, but when my friend brought our dog by, she remembered him but not our dog. She remembers my mother as well.  She also woke up in the middle of the night fearing that she wasn't really here."

Dr. Shepherd gave a reassuring smile. "That's good news. It's not unusual in these cases for the memory to take a while to come back. Honestly, some memories may not come back at all.  With how her coma unfolded, I don't believe it to be abnormal that she may be confused as to if she really is awake or not. We don't really know what happens in the mind of a patient when they're in a coma. It could be that she was dreaming or reliving memories.  From what I've read in her file, she's had no memory of the past few years.   It's entirely possible that at least some of the memories she gained back is from you and your mother telling her stories of your past together while she slept. "

If he only knew. I wasn't even sure right now. 

"We have the MRI scheduled for later today. If it goes as well as I think it may, you could be discharged tomorrow."

Home.  Now I'm pretty sure I remember that. I think. I hope?  Dr. Shepherd left as he had other patients to see. The nurse came by later to let us know she would be back at 1 pm for my test. 

"I've got an idea. Since we have some time, would you like to visit the hospital garden?  I think you might enjoy getting some fresh air."

I liked his idea and quickly agreed. I pulled out the hair brush mumma hiddles brought from home. I hadn't seen my reflection, but my hair felt like a mess.   I spied a ponytail holder wrapped on the handle and used it to put my hair in a top knot. 

While I fixed my hair, Tom managed to procure a wheelchair, and then off we went. We went at a leisurely pace, stopping by the nurses station to let them know where we were going and promised we would be back on time.   There were so many turns before and after the elevator, but he seemed to know where he was going.  Before we found the garden, we paused at a small sandwich shop in the hospital.  Tom picked a few things along with bottles of water, and then we went to the hospital garden.  It was so lovely. The flowers and plants were thriving and it was only slightly overcast. What sun that did come through felt amazing. 

"Would you like to stay in the chair? Or I could help you move to the bench if you would like?"

"The bench, please?"  Normally I'd get up and move myself, but I wasn't quite feeling full strength.  Plus, I love when he holds me. If I could have him carry me everywhere for the rest of our lives, I'd be okay with that. 

He gently picked me up and helped me to the bench.  He even borrowed a little table to use for our picnic, taking the large plant off it and promised to put it back after. 

I couldn't even say what we ate.  I just enjoyed being with him in that garden for a while when something struck me. "Why does this feel familiar?"  

Tom thought for a moment. "Now that you mention it, this does remind me a bit of mum's garden. She has a number of similar plants she tends to.  Perhaps we could go for a drive and visit her when you're feeling better?"

"I'd like that."

It's like he could tell I was holding in some frustration and held my hands gingerly in his. "We will figure it out together. I'll tell you anything and everything you want to know as often and as many times as you want."

His words were comforting, and I could tell he was being truthful.  His mere presence was soothing, and I laid my head on his shoulder.  I knew I had to tell him about my dreams at some point, but it frightened me.  I didn't want him to think I was crazy. 

Eventually we returned to my room in time for the MRI.  I didn't want to go alone and hoped they would allow him to go with me. 

Tom's POV

When they came to take her for the MRI, I went with her. She had been 'awake' for just over a day, and I didn't want to be away from her, in case anything happened. She held my hand firmly, seemingly to feel the same way.

It didn't take much convincing to be allowed in the room with her during the test as long as I followed the rules, and they brought me a plastic chair so I could sit by her while holding her hand, rubbing the back of it, unsure if I was doing that to soothe her or myself. Maybe a bit of both.

"Talk to me, please?"

"Of course, love."  I could hear the nervousness  in her voice. So I started reciting one of my favorite poems, The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock.

Let us go then, you and I,

When the evening is spread out against the sky

Like a patient etherized upon a table;

Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,

The muttering retreats

Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels

And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:

Streets that follow like a tedious argument

Of insidious intent

To lead you to an overwhelming question ...

Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”

Let us go and make our visit.

I traced invisible patterns on her hand and arm while I recited poetry.  It seemed to keep us both calm. As the test was not finished, I started singing “The Bear Necessities”, some Bon Iver, and then Hank Williams until all the tests were completed.  

I helped my wife back into the wheelchair where we then followed the kind nurse back to our room. Mum was waiting for us along with more flowers from her as well as other family and friends.  

A nurse came by letting us know Dr. Shepherd should be by in the morning with the test results. Mum said she had a good feeling about it, as did I. It wasn't until dinner that mum left. 

She just missed Sophie who dropped by to visit for a few minutes and bring some food and snacks. I could tell my wife knew she was familiar but couldn't quite place her. Instead of saying something outright that might embarrass her, I skirted around it. "Thank you so much, Sophie.  How are Ben and the kids? We can't thank you enough again for helping take care of Bobby." 

"They're great! And Bobby has been a gem, helping wear out the kids when we get to watch him."

Sophie asked how she was recovering and if there was anything she could do to help before she left.  Once it was just us again, the confusion became more apparent. Rather than wait for her to say something, I went ahead and explained. 

"That was Sophie, Ben's wife.  They've been married for a while, have two children. You and her started becoming friends a few months after we got together. In fact, she was the one who told me to get my head out of my ass and put a ring on your finger if I knew what was good for me, or she would slap me into next year."

Oh that incredible, angelic laugh. I was so afraid I would never hear it again, the most beautiful sound in the entire world. 

"I knew she was familiar…."

"That's good! That's definitely good, and I think Dr. Shepherd would agree."

We ate the homemade chicken salad sandwiches Sophie brought before tucking in and watching old movies on tv while eating hobnobs before falling asleep somewhere around 11 pm.

Chapter 26

[ailelie]

So you have to get an MRI of your head...

Most of what I've read online about MRIs focus on two things: they're loud and claustrophobic.

I've had 4 or 5 brain scans in the past 10 years, the most recent being today, so I wanted to share what the actual process is like. Personally, I find MRIs to be very relaxing. All of the information online was not a help for my first one.

This is a rather lengthy and comprehensive description of getting an MRI. Personally, I find comfort in knowing exactly what will happen. One reason I find MRIs so relaxing now is that I've had several over the past decade and I know exactly what to expect.

First, you will likely need to fast (no food or drink) for about 2 hours before your MRI. They won't tell you this when you're scheduling it, so try to schedule for mid-morning or mid-afternoon. Do not schedule around mealtimes because then you'll likely be hungry, thirsty, and cranky. Not a good mental state for any medical procedure.

Second, when you arrive, you'll fill out some basic paperwork. In addition to the usual questions, they'll want to make sure you don't have any metal in your body. Metal+MRI=Not Good. They'll also ask you to describe, in your own words, why you're getting the MRI and to circle on a body diagram where the issue is occurring.

Third, once your name is called, you'll be led to a changing area. At Northwestern they've got some cool magnetically (I think) locked lockers to keep your things in. You will remove everything but your underwear and put on hospital gowns and grippy socks. At Northwestern, they have you put on 2 gowns, one tied in the back and the other on the opposite way and left loose in the front.

Once you're dressed, you will get an IV port put into your arm (not hand). This is only if your MRI order requires contrast dye. If you don't need contrast, you'll get to skip this step. This is my least favorite part of the whole visit; I hate IVs.

Then you wait to be called back to the machine. Road trip rules regarding the bathroom. Even if you don't really have to go, go anyway.

Fourth, on the way to the machine, the technician will have you pass in front of a metal detector just to make sure that you are metal free. If you're wearing glasses or a mask, make sure to remove them first.

Fifth, you head into the MRI room. The technician will show you where to put your locker key and, if you have them, glasses and mask. Then you lay down on the bed/table that goes into the machine.

The technician will offer a blanket. I recommend accepting it. My blanket today was warm like it'd been in a dryer that ended maybe 10 minutes ago. The technician will also place a cushion beneath your knees and give you earplugs. They may offer headphones so that you can listen to music. You can request a genre and they'll check the volume with you. I prefer a low volume because I like the machine noises.

Then, the technician will place additional cushions around your head to keep it from moving and will place a plastic cage (camera) over your head. Once the cage goes on, I close my eyes. I'm not claustrophobic, but I'm also not going to test it.

The technician will also hand you a small ball. If you need out of the machine for some reason, you squeeze the ball and they'll get you out.

Lastly, if you're getting contrast done as well, the technician will hook up your IV. The contrast dye doesn't go in immediately (at least, it doesn't for me, but my order is for with and without contrast). The technician looped the IV tubing over my thumb to keep it place and lowered my arm back onto the table/bed. At first I had to hold it a bit awkwardly at my side, but once I was in the machine, I could rest it against the machine.

Sixth, now it is time to go into the machine. The machine is rather small. You will feel the sides against your arms as you go in. I like to think of it as a weird hug or being surrounded by a very hard blanket.

The music, if you have some, will not start right away. They'll do a little test image first. This first image only takes 20 seconds. After that, they turn on the music and begin the imaging.

Each image takes 2.5, 3.5, 4, or 5 minutes to complete. Each image sounds and acts very differently. (One year, the sounds reminded me heavily of old school video games if they were without pitch).

For example, one has a very low noise I could almost feel in my jaw. The sound would start suddenly, stretch, and then end suddenly.

Another one had more middle tones and was very fast (chug, chug, chug). At first I found it annoying, but then it started to vibrate in a nice way that felt really good on my back. That one also moved around my head a bit.

Another one has a middle tone that holds a bit followed by a few quick, powerful low tones.

The sound isn't loud like a concert where it can make your ears hurt, but rather it is just complete. If you have music, you may hear it beneath or over the noise (depending on the volume; I like mine low so it is like I'm hearing music from another room). Otherwise, the sound of the machine is just all encompassing.

Sometimes an image will require that you be a different depth in the machine. Your table/bed will sometimes move in deeper or pull out to be more shallow.

Before every image starts, the technician will check in with you and will let you know how long the next image will take.

If you're not getting contrast, this will probably take 20 minutes. If you do get contrast, it is more like 35 to 40 minutes.

If you're getting contrast, they'll let you know when they're pushing it into your body. You may not feel anything. In previous years, I hadn't felt anything. This year, though, I felt cold pushing into me. It was so cold my elbow felt wet. I tasted a bit of metal in my mouth, too.

The hardest part of being in the machine, is that you need to keep still and you can't touch your face. If something itches, you have to ignore it (I find the occasional vibrations help with the proto-itches before they bloom into something that drives me up a wall).

Personally, I close my eyes, focus on taking deep breaths, and let myself sink beneath the sound. It is vaguely hypnotic if you let it be.

Seventh, once the imaging is done, your table/bed will pull fully out of the machine. A technician will come and remove the cage, the IV connection, blanket, and knee cushion. They'll also take back the emergency ball. Then they'll advise you to sit up slowly and make sure you aren't dizzy before standing.

Eighth, the technician will lead you back to the IV area where someone will remove your IV port and give you a bandage.

And, with that, you're done!

PS: This is based purely on my own experiences. If you've had different ones, please do share. Also, as I said, I am not claustrophobic. It would be nice if someone with claustrophobia could share how they get a brain scan.

[timemachineyeah]

This is going to be a vent post. I’m fine. It’s okay! Sometimes I just need to rage uselessly against things no one can control before once again trying to be my usual pragmatic make-the-best-of-things self.

If you do not wish to read a vent, that’s understandable. Please scroll. Okay. 😘

Jesus Charcuterie Christ I am so fucking sick of chronic illness.

I am tired of the dirty bathroom, which I cannot clean because the energy just doesn’t exist even though I want to clean it. Even though I like cleaning a bathroom! When I was a kid I used to volunteer to be the one assigned to the bathroom!

This morning I woke up and changed the litter and I think a box was heavier than I had anticipated or something but I ended up so exhausted I couldn’t really stand or move my arms. It took me twenty minutes to eat a yogurt cup. My brother came home with groceries and I couldn’t jump up to help him put them away. I wanted to get out of his hair by going back to my room but I needed to sit for another hour before I had rested enough to walk back up the stairs.

It’s not always this bad. But god, when it’s this bad I want to scream. I want to tear out the tongues of every well meaning person or doctor who’s ever told me to just slowly try to build my stamina. Have you tried yoga? You should be doing aerobic exercise to the point of not being able to speak between breaths at least three time a week! My body gives out before I can get winded. My hands shake. I can’t open the cracker box. I can barely swallow. Sometimes I can’t hold a conversation. I hate it. I hate it.

I went to the doctor in March and made a follow up appointment that was supposed to happen today, but I got a call that it was canceled and rescheduled for next month. I should be relieved because I was really going to have to push myself to get there. I was able to go back to bed. Instead I just want the doctor to see me. To hear me. To do something.

“We’re not going to be able to support you forever”, my mom tells me, at least once or twice a month. Not to be shaming. She’s just telling the truth. My parents are aging. Their income is decreasing, their health is declining, they don’t know how Dad’ll ever be able to retire but his job is actively killing him. I never know what to say. I always say, “I know”, because I know. But I also know I literally cannot do any more than I’m doing. I had to take breaks between lifting the yogurt spoon to my mouth. I had to take the stairs one at a time.

I want to do so many things. I have so many ideas, so many dreams, so many causes. I want to scream, “Mom, you more than anyone know how stubborn I am! How determined I can be!!!” I am too tired to even have big feelings. Anger and despair are both exhausting. A good mood gives me more energy, so I have become So. Fucking. Tempered. Kind. Balanced. Rosy. I can and WILL find the bright side if it fucking kills me because if I don’t it will. But even that is tiring. It’s so tiring to not be able to have the bad feelings because you know the bad feelings will cost you even more of your life.

I know this is real. I just want any other person to know it too, as surely as I do. I just wish a doctor could see it, acknowledge its truth, tell me why. Bonus points if they can make it even a little better.

I looked up the date of my first MRI, the one I got when this all started. A few weeks ago while lying on the floor between my bedroom and the bathroom I started to wonder about MS, the disease that killed my mother’s little sister. It was the first thing I suspected when this all started so it was the first thing they looked for. I looked up that MRI, and it was in 2014.

Eight years. This has been going on for eight years.

I might have them do another, on the off chance this IS multiple sclerosis and the first MRI was just too early. I was gonna ask about it today, but the appointment was canceled.

I want to clean the bathroom. Maybe I can just clean the sink. Maybe that won’t be too much.

I miss going on long walks. I used to walk ten miles in a day. Now a block wipes me out.

I am adjusting. I am accommodating myself as much as I can. I am doing my best. If it never gets better I will find a way to make the best of what I’ve got.

But eight years. God fucking dammit. I could’ve done so much. Who would possibly fake this and why. For what??? Attention? Sympathy? Where. I don’t get those things. To get out of work? Even the work I love? Even play? Even free time and friends??? I lose those things as much, if not more. I am not married, I don’t have kids - these are things I wanted! I want to date! Fuck! I’m so mad. It’s 2:30 in the afternoon on a Monday and I am sitting in my room with the lights off and all the curtains drawn around my bed typing on my phone made as dark as possible so it doesn’t strain my eyes and I would rather be doing so many other things. Instead I’m probably going to go back and forth between a video game and my bed all day. Maybe I’ll wash the sink.

It’ll be okay. I’ll be okay. But this is real. This is so real. I have lost so much. This isn’t fun for me. It’s not a game. And it should be a cry for help, because I need help, but I actually fucking hate asking for help. I just want to be able to do it myself. That’s all I ever wanted.

[marcholasmoth]

OSRR: 3111

what the fuck is this update

i don't like it at all. i'm a grumpy old man. get off my lawn.

the rest is basically tw: surgery.

anyway, todays been alright. it started out rough. but since up from my nap once i got home from surgery, i've mostly been fine. not looking forward to the nerve block wearing off but i'm excited for feeling back in my arm.

my tummy has been unhappy all day, pretty much. i asked for a tuna sandwich when i came out from under anesthesia, and the nurse laughed and said, "we don't have that, but woke goldfish work?"

i think i replied "FUCK yeah."

i didn't feel too silly, but i can't control my expressions and my filter was down, so i'm sure they got a kick out of it all.

i'm just excited to sleep. there's a lot that happened today in terms of the surgery because there was more wrong in my shoulder than they expected. they fixed the labrum but found that the pain on the back of my shoulder was being caused by my bicep that attaches there - it was hanging on by only a few fibers, but i've had this injury for so long that they couldn't do anything about it except disconnect them. if a doctor has listened me at literally any other point when i've seen one about this, they could've reconnected it and fixed it. but because no man doctor will listen to the cries of pain from a teenage girl because god fucking forbid she knows what her body is telling her, nobody ever looked. they said physical therapy would take care of it. they said it was just in my head and nothing was wrong. the last one, at age 24, said "oh it's loose, but it shouldn't be a problem." that was when i was working at the cafe and my arm subluxed at work and bruised the head of the bone. he saw an MRI. he looked at x-rays. and still, "oh it'll be fine."

no, you incompetent fucks. i have been INJURED. for SIXTEEN YEARS. (i redid the math; turns out i was 14, not 13, when it happened.)

i'm glad someone finally fixed it. now to keep it immobile for at least a month.

anyway, i'm upset, hungry, thirsty, and exhausted, but i'm relieved that i decided to go through with it even though i very nearly called it off because i couldn't handle the IV. like it's a damn good thing they tell you to not eat before you go in, because i would've tossed my cookies all over that bed. it's never been that bad before. even the MRI dye thing was better than this. this was a disaster and i very neatly called everything off. but i reasoned myself out of the nausea and said "let's get this done" and that was that. there was some gas and i was told to do some deli breaths which i couldn't do and i was out before i counted to five lol. and then i was waking up.

besides the part immediately after being discharged and heading home, i've been good with walking and taking care of myself. i took a nap around noon and woke up around 2, so that helped a lot.

but basically i've kept a chipper mood pretty much all day. i'm pretty sure i'm not gonna take the meds they gave me because i don't want to be sick every day, so we grabbed the tylenol and plopped it next to me.

i miss joel but i've been so in and out of it today that i didn't even think about it until i was signing my valentine's day cards for people. joel's is the neatest and the most legible out of the four i got.

anyway i'm tired and i'm gonna finish everything i wanna do.

[scribbledquillz]

As promised, a little life update on me for - well mostly me, but also anyone who'd like to know where in the hell I've been.

Around when I was last here winter of 2021, the hip pain I'd had since I was pregnant with my little one - which until then had mostly just been annoying - started to become more of a problem. It became far more prominent and persistent, as well as moving up into my pelvis and lower back. Spasms, achiness, stabbing pains, lots of fun. It made basic necessities difficult, and continuing exercises other than using the treadmill (which a friend of mine graciously gave to me for free, bless her) impossible.

Fast forward through physical therapy, x rays, mris, steroid injections and a last ditch effort with acupuncture and I'm finally in a place health wise that is, while not ideal at least generally manageable. There's something going on in my SI joint compounded with 30+ years of random factors that probably made it worse that causes just. Boatloads of inflammation. Massage, acupuncture and walking keep it in check, but sadly I don't know when or if I'll be able to get back into weight lifting the way I used to. But hey I can function and I can grocery shop without spending the rest of the day in agony on the couch, so I'll gladly take it!

In that same time in a more positive lane, I did a lot of work on myself and my mental health. I took the time to try new hobbies, dabbled in a lot of creative outlets I never thought to try, and started keeping houseplants. Most of which - save a few casualties to my learning process and one poor rubber tree plant that just can't seem to catch a break - are doing great and making my house feel so much more cozy!

I also got the kick in the ass from a friend (the same one who gave me the treadmill, girl is amazing) to start an original project that I'm really excited about. I'm writing a graphic novel style comic. 😁

It's a long, LONG way from ready to share. But my prologue script is done, and I've connected with a comic artist who I've been working with to illustrate the pages. Once those are done and I've got enough of the main script drafted up, I'll be looking into getting the prologue posted / hosted, as well as a Patreon running to help finance the development of the main story. I don't want to give anything away about the plot just yet, but I will say I want to get this right. Hence the possibility of a Patreon to help fund hiring on several sensitivity readers as well as hopefully bumping up the hours I can afford to pay my illustrator to work.

So yeah - that story is my main priority and focus right now. I want to see this done and completed, because I genuinely think people will like the story I have floating around in my head and the idea of finally being able to turn writing - something I've been passionate about for as long as I remember - into more than a hobby would be AMAZING.

But that being said, I will always have love for Revka and Zevran. Their ship is what pushed me back into writing after a years long dry spell, and I want to give them their due. Not to mention I miss the idiots. ♥️

So that's it! I'll be poking away at their fics as I have time, but want to make it clear their stories will have to stay as something I do as I have spare time and energy. I most likely won't be able to do a lot of meme style writing or prompts - at least for the time being. But I'm excited and happy to be here to gush about my favorite fictional husband and share my love for whatever random fancies pop into my life with you all, and to continue seeing your lovely digital faces on my dash.

I can't wait to share my writing with you all again, and to eventually let you be some of the first folks who can check out my comic!

[thattheatretrash]

hi so once again i am turning to tumblr bc idk what else to do

need some chronic pain related advice so if you can relate or know someone who does please read below

little background about me: i've had chronic pain for almost two years now, and still no solid diagnosis. different things have been thrown out there, but a lot of the tests i've had done have come back negative, not significant, or inconclusive. the only thing that was ever yes yes definitely positive was a mri of my thighs that showed inflammation. however, a couple months later when i had a muscle biopsy of my thighs done, they ruled it not significant, and it didn't point to a further diagnosis. my rheumatologist decided to put me on prednisone anyway, and it HELPED SO MUCH. at least temporarily, i'm tapering it now since it's not good to be on long term. but it helped with my energy levels and my pain/numbness/weakness/tingling/burning/tingling pain in my lower body. i definitely couldn't have finished college without it.

recently, i was put on lots of different meds, and i've been have a bad flareup and new weird symptoms since the beginning of the summer. i also started using weed to help manage pain and fatigue and it helped a lot. however, because i've had so many new (and some very severe) symptoms and couldn't tell anymore what was a side effect and was a symptom, i decided to stop/taper every medication/drug that i could about a week ago (with my PCP's help). i'm still adjusting.

however, the thing i'm probably most concerned about rn is my new neurological symptoms that have been progressing. while i've had things like sensory issues or brain fog in the past, it's taken such an intense turn to the point that i'm pretty sure i've started having seizures? i hesitate to say that in case i'm wrong but i've been having them a lot. since stopping my meds, it seems to be helping slightly. my brain doesn't feel as overloaded. but i'm still kind of having them. i did go to the ER for one after i had an episode in the urgent care waiting room, and they did a CT which looked fine. they diagnosed it as a "headache" and told me to call my rheumatologist to get off my mycophelate mofetil since they thought it was contributing (and i think it definitely was, especially to my digestive system issues, brain fog, and weird random i'm so sad but idk why mood swing things).

i guess my question is, for people who have had seizures start developing later in life, how did you know it was a seizure? i mean i've looked up stuff online so i'm pretty sure but of course i can't really be sure. and how do you manage seizures day-to-day?

also, for people with chronic pain in general, how do you get people to believe you? i just feel like everyone is starting to think my pain is psychosomatic, which i think of course, some of it is. everyone experiences psychosomatic pain sometimes, and i do have a history of mental illness. but i actually feel pretty good right now!! and i'm doing everything i can to limit my stress, pay attention to my body, give myself positive affirmations, rest, do some gentle movement throughout the day, sleeping a lot (8+ hours usually) on a regular schedule, trying to eat a decent diet, meditate, stretch, i mean, i am really trying everything i can.

but i just don't know what do sometimes. so any advice, especially from other people with chronic pain, is super appreciated. and thank you for reading all of this if you did. i hope you are having a wonderful day!! here's to the lovely journey of becoming closer and more loving with our bodies.

[wronggalaxy]

MY LEFT LEG PROBLEM:

I have an unknown condition or long-term injury that has impacted me for a few years, but has been steadily getting worse. In the past couple weeks alone I've become reliant on my cane 100% of the time, lost all physical abilities with my legs outside of walking(including running, sports, jumping, kneeling, walking quickly, kicking, etc.), and have become almost completely bedbound outside of school. I go to school, stumble through classes half awake and in indescribable pain, try and fail to eat lunch because the pain is so bad, go home and spend the next 12 hours lying on a heating pad until I have to do it all over again. I have intense pain 24/7 that randomly spikes from anywhere from a few seconds to hours multiple times every day. The pain comes from my knee, but everything below it hurts as well. I can't stand for longer than a minute and walk for more than 5 at a time, on a good day. Even after just 5 minutes of walking I can't move my leg for 10 plus minutes. After a minute of standing or 5 of walking(often times less) I will uncontrollably collapse and be unable to move at all for 30-60 minutes. Even after all that time I can still only move to go from the floor to my bed or a chair/bench if in public where I have to rest for longer. It's not a muscle or bone problem. My PT and GP think it's a torn meniscus(knee cartilage), but we won't know until I have an mri which my insurance won't currently cover because it's "not medically necessary". A torn meniscus is usually treated by surgery if severe, sometimes not even that much is needed. Since it's been at least 5 years since the tear happened(if that does end up being the problem), surgery might not even be an option. I need a wheelchair. I can't afford one, my house isn't wheelchair accessible, my school is 2 stories and the elevator is constantly broken, I wouldn't be able to ride the bus(my only way to school), where I live if you home school in high school they force you to get a GED not a diploma. If I get surgery recovery time is 6 months, so I'd have to quit the Speech & Debate team. If you quit for any amount of time you can never be on the team again. I regularly get called slurs and insulting nicknames, get fake claimed, have had people try to steal my cane, and have been intentionally pushed down my school's staircases multiple times. I tend to chew on my cane's handle when anxious which has gotten me sexualized, a lot. I'm also suspected for tendinitis in my ankle. The longer a torn meniscus is untreated the bigger the tear becomes and the more likely you are to develop degenerative knee arthritis. I'm also suspected for knee arthritis. Knee braces only make the pain worse and irritate my skin condition, leg braces don't do anything. My cane barely works anymore. I can't use a walker because of my back or crutches because of the school's broken elevator. My GP can only prescribe me ibprophen because of a lack of diagnosis. It does nothing. Nor does any other pain medicine I've tried for anything. I took a pill once that's so strong that it can kill you to take more than 1 a day. It brought me down to what able-bodied people would probably call a 'five'. That was before it got bad.

I don't know how much longer I can survive.

[dissociacrip]

i mean, i say i've gotten overall less sick irt the undx'd neurological shit since i have stopped regularly working morning shift, because i have, but a few weeks ago before my 2nd time seeing g i had to leave an evening shift at work early bc for w/e reason i was feeling really unwell and was having paresthesia all over my lower legs and felt like i was gonna puke which got better once i was home and resting which isn't the exact same as what was happening before because it didn't come with the icy-hot searing pain in my upper back + being 7-8 on a pain scale for the rest of the day due to overall aching and then sharp stabbing pains everywhere that spoke to nerve issues (lmao i always forget i constantly have paresthesia and dysesthesia going on until i actively think about it since i've gotten so used to it. pins and needles and tingling and weird sensations on my arms and legs as i type this. certain things just make it much worse and thusly more noticeable) + worsening delerium and slurred speech to the point where it seemed like i was drunk. and it all would improve after laying down for a few ours - or at least some of it. the delerium and slurred speech definitely did. i thought i had an infection that day because in the past couple years when i've had infections neuro stuff seemed to get pretty bad. i was getting a cold sore maybe due to my cycle weakening my immune system so that could've been making it flare up?? i have no clue. i just remember having a uti that one time and getting burning pins and needles in my feet.

so i genuinely have like no fucking idea what triggers this stuff. they did a thoracic mri that showed no signs of any disc herniation yet this keeps happening on and off for over 2 years with the mri only happening when i was having searing pain focused around my shoulder. my only solid theory is craniocervical instability and my pcp said that was a possibility but i don't feel like i can ask for money from my dad to get assessed for it anytime soon considering how much financial support he's giving me already and still barely having enough money for me to get by.

and this has happened over the course of at least 2-3 years. if something is continually putting pressure on my spinal cord to the point that it can make me that neurologically fucked up even if it comes and goes rather than being permanent i would still like to know about it because that happening over and over again seems pretty fucking bad. idk i might bite the bullet and ask my doctor if there's anyone who could evaluate me at least for craniocervical instability or to at least get a motion x-ray even though they billed me $200 just to see him last. but i can't picture my dad being happy with me about that. i haven't asked him for help with that bill either. and i missed my last appointment because i straight-up forgot about it. there's also the fucking lung thing i never got x-rayed for again. god.

[cfs-crohns-colitis-warrior]

Just got back from a week away at the coast and I hate it cause I miss the sea. I do love being home though I have to admit. Harder for me right now because my boyfriend is also on his 2 week holiday abroad so I don’t get to see him yet, and phone callas are difficult because of the 8 hour time difference. It makes me a sad when I don’t get to see him often. We’re very clingy and cringey people lol.

Anyway. I’m looking forward to my holiday next year already, since my boyfriend will be joining us then and I’m also hoping I’m going to be doing better health wise. We almost didn’t make it away thanks to a Crohn’s flare up that was being left untreated while they did an unnecessary (in my opinion since I don’t need a diagnosis) MRI scan. Luckily our GP was really good and prescribed me steroids the day before we left so I was able to make it away, and bonus: they increased my appetite so I’ve been able to eat quite a bit while away which hopefully have brought my weight up a bit by now, at least back to what it was before the flare. The biggest downside is now that we’re home and having meals at home again like normal people is all my food is gonna be such a let down.

After a week of being pushed everywhere I’m the wheelchair (since I can’t go long distances) and not being able to walk about much (I got out to go into a lot of shops in the town as they were too small for the wheelchair or too awkward to get into), I’m hoping the rest of this year can be used to help build up my stamina a bit more. A couple of short walks a week at least is my aim to start with, and now the weathers nice I should actually be able to convince myself to do it. If I get into a routine of going for lots of walks then I’m more likely to continue it once autumn and winter hit again cause I’ll miss it otherwise. Since I’ve not been able to before last winter I just couldn’t bring myself to go out and about, especially because it would’ve been getting up and dressed and layered up for like a 5-10 minute walk. It never seemed worth it so half the time I just walked around the sofa a few times instead. I’m hoping by going for more walks I can start to go further each time meaning by the time winter rolls round it’ll seem more worth it to get dressed and wrapped up to go for a walk that’ll last at least half an hour.

Sorry for the long ass post, I just have lots of thoughts this morning. What I really should be doing is getting myself up and getting food cause the steroids are making my stomach cry out for sustenance.

[sarahtrainsbrains]

Update, Burst of Blog

I rode down from the mountains, refreshed to return to this boiling city of Atlanta. Things get warped in time these days, these years, for me, for everyone? Woo, alright, let’s party together.

Report from a slow poke and a downer, I’m up to another white dot on the forward edge of my ever flabbergasting tumor. A quicker growing dot, shown brighter on the MRI on the front side of the mushy sideless thing. The one place  makes the entire lower ranks (Grade 2) labeled in the upper ranks (Grade 4), but the lower ranks seem satisfied.

They should be satisfied. For all this blog time gap it has continuously given me partial seizures, on extreme average, once a week. They change in their nature as ever, waving upon the anti-seizure drugs flipping, the stress, the seasons. The whole nervous system, really, tip toes and dances with the whole brain, and thus the body follows. It’s curious and limiting, to say the least. I write down fancy freedom in my journal.

And what pushes me to say much is that I’m starting a new chemo — Temodar (temozolomide). I recall promising many times that I would never do chemo again after my other regime more than a decade ago, but this one sounded like “chemo lite,” and so far so good, all things considered. It is six months long (possibly more) and I’m on my second month. You take one pill for five days, then spend the rest of the month feeling what damage they did, and getting your blood tested, where they want to have good blood counts. And I won’t lose much hair. We shall see.

After those old/young years of getting chemo-stuck in hospitals, kicking my bone marrow thus blood count … these pills are a sweet deal. Meant only for brains. Medicine progresses oddly. Things get funny. I’m trying to learn enough about the whole American medical system. The whole thing, so I can project my rages in a healthy way... It will take a long while. And my oncologist just left town. And it was already hard to have my epilepsy folks talk to my neuro people. No complaints, Emory, just a note I’ll get to.

I’ve landed in Decatur, owning a place we call “Down Yonder,” (etc) shared with my uncle Walter. Right in the swampier part, increasingly surrounded by very supportive family, and the cemetery’s ghosts. Magnolia trees hang out with palm trees. Lots of chipmunks will sound like strangers crunching in the night. Companionship of doggie Junie. And the gentle Alaskan Malamute Dealer next door.

Thanks for the courage-encouraging letters I’ve gotten! How lovely, what sunny days. Give me a ride back up, up to the fourth of July parade, and Happy America. Much love.

Sarah

[hercleverboy]

the waiting room

spencer reid x fem!reader

summary ↠ the three times Y/N waited for spencer, and the one time he waited for her. (based off of this blurb)

category ↠ angst

warnings/includes ↠ mentions of death as a result of potential illness, spencer’s headaches, mri scans, swearing,  indefinite ending. 

word count ↠ 2.9k

dedicating this one to two of the literal loves of my life, @voidsfilm + @ellesgreenaway ♡

“What is stronger than the human heart, which shatters over and over and still lives.” — Rupi Kaur

Spencer had always hated hospitals.

He found it so conflicting, how a place could hold so much hope for life and promise for the future, and yet also hold so much heartbreak and despair and agony.

The strong disinfectant smell wasn’t his favourite thing, either. He hated how the bright lights always irritated his eyes, and how the hallways all just looked the same, so bleak and lifeless.

Most of all, he hated the waiting room. 

The navy-blue carpet that lined the floors, wooden chairs that were always, without fail, extremely uncomfortable to sit in. The way that nurses and doctors would walk past the room, eyes full of pity and sorrow. With his job, he’d seen more waiting rooms than he would’ve liked. He spent more time than he wanted to in hospitals, talking to victims’ families, and even sometimes having to witness them receive such heartbreaking news. On one or two occasions, he’d even had to be the bearer of bad news himself, the one who had to tell expectant family that their loved one was gone. It only added to the list of reasons why he despised hospitals.

Then there was the other side of the coin. He took frequent trips to the hospital, but unfortunately more oftenly as a patient than an FBI agent. He wouldn’t say he was reckless, but he didn’t exactly put much value on his life. Or at least, he never used to. He figured it was because he was the only one on the team without a family to come home to, without people who were dependent on him. And so, if it came down to it, he would willing take off his Kevlar vest and put down his weapon while talking down a gun-wielding unsub. Of course, he’d get the third degree from Hotch later, but he could live with that. And then he met Y/N, and he realised that now he had someone counting on him, someone waiting for him to come back home to them, he couldn’t afford to be so careless in the field.

Though sometimes, despite Spencer’s best attempts, things still went wrong. Y/N had seen the inside of the hospital waiting room more than most, often because she’d get called by one of his team mates to alert her that he’d been injured in the field. And without him ever asking, she’d drop everything to be there for him, even if it was his own stupidity that had landed him in those situations. 

The first time was after he’d been shot in the knee. Y/N had been midway through her workday when she’d received a call from JJ telling her that Spencer had been injured. She knew that it was only a leg wound, that he would be absolutely fine, but that didn’t stop her from being worried. She’d been sat in the waiting room, waiting anxiously for a nurse to come by and update her. 

As soon as she got the all clear to see him, she’d breathed out a sigh of relief and made her way to his room,  catching his attention as soon as she entered.

He gave her a tight-lipped smile, grimacing slightly at the pain shooting through his leg. “Hi.” 

She chuckled at that, moving to stand at his bedside. “Hi baby, how are you feeling?” 

“I’m ok.” He smiled, reaching up to tightly grasp one of her hands in his. “You didn’t have to come all the way down here, you know.” 

“Oh, stop.” She mumbled with a smile. “You know how much I worry about you.” 

He grinned at that, the warm feeling that he always got when he was with her spreading through him. He used the grip he had on her hand to pull her down to him, so his lips could meet hers in a sweet kiss. “Hotch has demanded I take some time off to rest, or whatever.” He murmured against her lips. “So, I’m all yours.” 

“Hmm, and what you mean by that is that you need someone to take care of you at home for a few days?” 

“Well, I did get shot in the leg, you know. Taking down the bad guy...” He gestured to his bandaged-up knee, a pout on his pretty pink lips. 

She let out a laugh at that, amused. “Alright, Superman. Let’s get you home, shall we?” 

The next time Y/N found herself in the hospital waiting room was a year later, when Spencer had been suffering from painful, unexplainable headaches. 

Initially, Spencer hadn’t wanted her to attend his MRI scan appointment, but it didn’t take much convincing for her to assure him that she wanted to be there for him. He’d held her hand in a vice-like grip on the drive to the hospital, only letting go when the nurse called his name to tell him they were ready for him. She’d kissed the back of his hand before he’d left, a whispered promise leaving her lips before he went, “I’ll be right here waiting.”

She looked around the empty waiting room, took note of its greying walls and stained carpet, and how awfully uncomfortable the chairs were. She thought of anything and everything that could distract her from the way she was feeling at that moment- knowing how scared her boyfriend was that there was something was wrong with him. 

Spencer came back to the waiting room an hour later, both relieved to see that his girl was indeed still waiting for him but frustrated with what little the doctor had told him. 

“Hey!” Y/N sat up straighter, putting on a smile for the sake of her boyfriend. “How’d it go?” 

Spencer just shook his head. “He says there’s nothing physically wrong with me. He suggested I should consider that it’s something more mental, but he’s wrong- he’s wrong, Y/N.” He sat down in the chair next to her, seeking comfort in her arms as he whimpered into the crook of her neck. “I’m not- I’m not crazy, am I?” 

And the truth was, she didn’t know. She was so afraid for him, worried that he was sick, dying, perhaps of something that the doctors hadn’t detected yet. It terrified her. Her hands ran up and down the expanse of his back, attempting to soothe his weeps the best that she could. Spencer grabbed fistfuls of the back of her shirt and breathed in the scent of her hair as deeply as he could to try and ground himself.

“I’m scared, Y/N.” 

That broke her heart to hear, but all she could do was nod in understanding, hoping her words would offer him some form of comfort. “I know, I know. We’ll figure this out, ok? Everything is going to be alright.” 

The next time Y/N inside of a waiting room was on what she could only refer to as the worst night of her life.

There were no words that could encompass the plethora of emotions she went through when she’d received a phone call from JJ, “Spencer has been shot. It’s- It’s pretty bad, Y/N. You need to come quickly.” 

When she got to the waiting room, she saw JJ and Alex sat opposite one another, a worry that made Y/N’s stomach sink on both their faces. She hurried towards them, tears blurring her vision. “Have you had any updates? Is he ok?” 

JJ looked up, shaking her head sadly. 

“What happened?” Y/N asked, her voice wavering. 

“He got shot in the neck. He pushed me out of the way.” Alex sighed, as though she was still in disbelief that he’d done that to save her. 

Y/N stared ahead in shock, dropping down into the seat beside Alex. Of course, of course, Spencer would risk his life to protect Alex. Y/N knew how fond he was of his colleague, how he idolised her, saw her as a sort of mother figure, even. 

Eventually JJ got called back to work, with Alex insisting that she’d stay with Y/N and wait for Spencer to wake. 

Y/N was so sick and fucking tired of the waiting room. Before, she hadn’t minded it, it had even bought a sense of comfort to her- because she was in a hospital, where they saved lives. But now? The familiar walls and dull navy-blue carpet made her feel nauseous. Not knowing whether her boyfriend was going to live or die was incomparable to any other time she’d found herself waiting in the same four walls. She was feeling everything and nothing all at once, she wanted to cry and scream, curse the universe for once again hurting a man that had done nothing in his life but protect others. Hell, part of her even wanted to laugh- laugh at the absurdity of the situation. If he died, - god, if he died - the world would’ve robbed him of a lifetime with her, the chance to live the life that he deserved.

She barely registered that Alex had left her side to bring her a coffee until she sat back down beside her. Y/N looked over at her, giving her a small smile as she gratefully accepted the coffee. 

Y/N brought the cup to her lips, relishing in how the hot liquid brought her a sense of warmth, and she wondered if she’d ever feel Spencer’s warmth again. She sucked in a shaky breath, speaking the first words she’d said in all the hours they’d been waiting. “You know he wants kids?” 

Alex looked over at her, sad smile tugging at her lips. “I do.” 

Y/N nodded, sniffing. “He’d be a phenomenal father.” 

“He would.” 

Y/N let out a small cry, trying desperately to hold herself together. “What if I never get the chance to give him that, Alex?” She cried, body finally giving in to the painful ache that consumed her entire being. 

Alex placed an arm around her, allowing the younger woman to lean on her shoulder for support. “You’ll get the chance. Spencer is strong, he’ll pull through.”

And sure enough, Alex had been right. When Y/N had been told he was awake, she couldn’t describe the relief that flooded her. After meeting Penelope in the hallway and being given a much-needed hug, she took a few deep breaths before walking into Spencer’s room. When her eyes landed on him, she felt the tears start to well again. She had to remind herself that despite the bandage on his neck and the numerous machines hooked up to him, he was there, and he was alive. 

She came towards him with the best smile she could muster, and he looked up at her with a drowsy smile.

“Hi.” She whispered, standing beside his bed. 

He grinned up at her, reaching out for her hand just like he always did. “Hi.” 

She squeezed his hand gently, reminding herself again that he was ok, though she couldn’t prevent the tears that began to tremble down her cheeks. 

Spencer’s heart throbbed at the sight, and he allowed himself to imagine the pain she must’ve been through, having to wait for hours to see if he was alive. He wouldn’t wish that on anyone, especially not the woman he loved more than anything else. “It’s alright, sweet girl. I’m alright.” He promised, wishing more than anything that he could pull her into his arms and soothe her, though the pain in his neck prevented him from doing so. 

“I could’ve lost you.” She whimpered, her other hand coming out to delicately trace the side of his face. 

“I’m right here.” He gave her hand three squeezes just to emphasise his point. 

She leaned forward, pressing a light kiss to his forehead. “You can’t ever scare me like that again.” 

Spencer chuckled lowly, nodding. “Yes ma’am.” 

“Promise me?” 

And though it was a promise they both knew he couldn’t keep, he granted her the reassurance that she craved. 

“I promise.” 

Y/N knew that wasn’t the last time she’d be sat in the waiting room, scared and anxious and hoping that the love of her life was ok. She knew there would always be a ‘next time’, no matter how many self-serving promises she asked Spencer to make. What she didn’t plan for, was that the next time she saw the inside of a hospital, it would be her fighting for her life. 

It had been a slow day at work for Spencer, with him managing to complete a majority of his withstanding paperwork. He sat at his desk, focused on how he twirled his pen between his fingertips, willing the clock to move faster so he could go back home when his phone rang, Y/N’s name flashing across the screen. 

He answered eagerly, though all eagerness was wiped away when it wasn’t her voice on the other end of the line. 

“Hi there, I’m looking for a Dr Spencer Reid?” 

Spencer’s mind raced, and he swallowed thickly before squeaking out an answer. “That’s me.” 

“I’m calling on behalf of Y/N Y/L/N, you’re registered as her emergency contact.” 

“Is she ok?” He croaked out, begging and pleading internally that all the worst-case scenario’s running through his head wouldn’t come to fruition. 

“She was involved in a severe road collision. You’re going to want to come down here-”

Everything past that was drowned out by the sound of Spencer’s heart beating quicker, so loudly he could hear it. He hung up, gathering his things together as quickly as he could and rushing toward the doors of the bullpen- running directly into one Derek Morgan. 

“Woah, easy there, kid. You got somewhere to be?” He joked at first, but erased all hints of a smile from his face when he saw the tears filling the younger man’s eyes. “What’s going on? Talk to me.” 

Spencer couldn’t form a sentence, only managing to splutter out a few barely strung together words. “It’s Y/N, she’s- she’s been in an a-accident and I need, I have to get to her.” 

Morgan’s eyes widened, nodding in understanding. “Alright, ok. You’re in no condition to be driving, let me take you.” 

Spencer wasn’t about to argue, already making his way toward the elevator. 

*

Spencer had always hated hospitals. 

But he’d also decided that he really fucking hated the waiting room. 

The doctors didn’t have any updates for him, no matter how many times he asked. So, he’d been forced to sit in that damned room and wait. 

He thought of how cruel the concept of the waiting room was. Waiting for either good or bad news, waiting to hear the words that would either fill him with relief or dread, signify the start of his life or the end. How cruel was it that people had to sit and wait, with the weight of the world on their shoulders and just hope their loved one was ok? 

With the first hour brought Spencer’s upset, tears trembling down rosy cheeks and whimpered words of disbelief that he could lose the woman he loved. He’d sat in the uncomfortable blue chair with his head in his hands as sobs wrecked through his body, with Morgan sat next to him, a comforting hand on his shoulder. 

The second hour brought with it a slither of hope, as a doctor came out to update them. Though it wasn’t good nor bad news, just that Y/N was still in surgery and was expected to be so for the next few hours. Spencer had again buried his head in his hands, his thoughts racing. The rest of the team arrived, joining the sombre atmosphere of the waiting room. 

The third hour saw Spencer grow agitated, angry with himself for not being with her, for not protecting her, despite how many times the team attempted to reassure him that there was nothing he could’ve done differently. They brought him cups of coffee with gentle reassurances, empty promises that Y/N would be fine, that she would pull through, but how could they possibly know that? 

In the fourth hour, Spencer sat staring blankly at the wall. He reminded himself of the future he’d dreamt of time and time again, and how he couldn’t imagine himself having that life with anyone else but her. He recalled the location of the velvet purple box he’d bought just a few months prior, hidden amongst pairs of his mismatched socks in the second drawer of his nightstand. What if he never got the chance to propose? To give her the life that he’d promised her time and time again when it was 3am and he was holding the love his life as close to his chest as he could get her. After all he’d done, the years of his life he’d given to helping to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves, this was the thanks he got? What a sick twist of fate that was. 

By the fifth hour, he was exhausted. His eyes drooped but he fought to keep them open, choosing to ignore the pitiful looks JJ shot him when she saw him fighting sleep. He would wait for her, just like all the times she had waited for him. He recognised how the way that he felt must’ve been how Y/N had felt after he’d been shot the year before, and the thought almost made him sick. He ran over all the possible outcomes in his head, allowing his eyes to close for a single moment as he mentally calculated the statistical probabilities of each outcome. He despised how helpless he felt. For a man whose job was to help others in need, he’d never been a position before where he didn’t have the answer, where he couldn’t come up with a solution. His heart ached as the realisation that he could very well lose her settled over him, the statistic he’d calculated of her survival being a number that was way too low for Spencer’s liking. 

For the moment, he had no choice but to wait. 

It was all he could do. 

*

permanent taglist: @beyonces-breastmilk​ @pinkdiamond1016​ @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto​ @thelovelyrose​ @averyhotchner​ @cynbx​ @calm-and-doctor​ @reidyoulikeabook​ @katexrichardson​ @jemimah-b99​ @muffin-cup​ @shadyladyperfection​ @rigatonireid​ @amoeebaa​ @mggsprettygirl​  @alltooreid​ @s1utformgg @awritingtree

spencer reid taglist: @reidtome

[tomtenadia]

Remember Us - part 1

Here I am with a new Rowaelin. This will be a much shorter than ALB both in chapter length and story length. The idea came to me while on the bus home after work. It’s angsty,

A special thank you to @whimsicallyreading for being my wonderful beta <3

------

Rowan is involved in a motorbike accident while on his way to work. A crash that will have some consequences on his marriage with Aelin when he realises that he has lost his memory. Day by day they will have to find their way back to each other and and survive the challenges that life throws at them. 

-----

When the silver haired man opened his eyes it took him a moment for his vision to focus and take in his surroundings. The walls around him were a pale beige colour and the smell of disinfectant was the first thing that hit his senses. In the background there was a steady beeping sound and when he moved his head towards it he saw a machine tracking his heart rate. Hospital. He was in a hospital. A couple of bags with liquids were hanging from hooks at his side and the long plastic tubes ran to his hand. Another gentle motion of his head and he saw his right arm in a splint and his right leg propped up and enveloped in a protective support.

The man pushed his head back in the pillow and groaned. He was in an hospital. And slowly he realised that’s all he knew. His mind felt empty as he tried to think about how he got there. But nothing. There was nothing. He closed his eyes and blackness hit him. He clearly broke his arm and his leg, but how it happened? He had no idea. Slowly he realised that all his memories had started from the instant he woke up. That was all he had and a wave of panic hit him.

In that instant a nurse walked into the room to check on him “Oh, Mr Whitethorn, you finally decided to join us. How do you feel?”

“Whitethorn?” His voice gruff.

“Yes, that’s your surname.”

The man looked at her with a confused stare.

“Do you know where you are? What day it is? Your name?”

The man shook his head “but from the fancy machines and your attire I guess I am in hospital.” He managed to utter, his throat feeling scratchy from disuse. How long had he been asleep?

“Let me go and call the doctor.” And she hurried out of the room.

Whitethorn, his surname was Whitethorn. That was a start.

A moment later a woman entered the room “good morning you. Glad that you could finally join us.” She smiled at him and checked a few things. The doctor flashed a penlight in his eyes then held a finger in front of him “follow this.” She moved the finger from left to right and back and he followed it with his eyes.

“So, the nurse said you don’t remember much.” She straightened her back and saw her write some notes on his chart. 

“I can’t…” he whispered “why am I in hospital?”

“Your name is Rowan Whitethorn. A month ago you had a motorbike accident on your way to work. You have been in a coma ever since. You had a helmet on but still sustained some serious head injuries and you are now experiencing amnesia. It will be temporary and the memories will eventually come back.”

Rowan closed his eyes, he had a name now, another small piece to add to the infinite puzzle in front of him.

“I will schedule another MRI to check your progress since surgery. Now rest, I will get in touch with your wife and let her know that you are awake.” And the doctor left.

Wife. He had a wife. He was married and his name was Rowan and he had an accident.

*

Aelin left the OR exhausted. The last surgery had lasted for hours but she had saved a kid’s life. She threw her OR scrubs in the trash and walked back to her office, looking forward to sit down on her chair for half an hour at least. Her back was killing her and she definitely dreamed about a back rub in that moment. But her plans were thwarted when she got a page from doctor Westfall. Rowan was awake. He was finally awake. She told the nurses she was going to the neurology ward and that she had her pager on if they needed her and she ran to the elevator.

Once on the correct floor, she stopped. She had been waiting for that moment for a whole month and now she was scared. She was a neurosurgeon as well and, although she was a paediatric one, she knew what his injuries might cause. She spotted Yrene in the corridor and ran to her in a frenzy “Yrene, I got your page.”

“He is awake,” said the brunette “his functions are okay but he is has amnesia. We talked about the possibility.” She explained and Aelin nodded “I have ordered another MRI and I will have a better idea after.”

“Can I go in?”

“Yes, but remember that he might not know who you are.” And she patted Aelin’s shoulder in support.

Aelin nodded and pushed back the tears that had been forming at the corner of her eyes.

Rowan was awake. She had awaited that news for the last month but the happiness in her soul was shackled by fear. Deep unyielding fear. She might have him back but at what price? She knew that the type of injuries he had suffered could affect the memory. As a doctor she was prepared to face it, but as his wife, she could feel her heart aching at the possibility of being a stranger to the man who held her heart. Of him not recognising their children. With a deep breath she steadied her nerves and eventually she opened the door to his room. She had been waiting for that moment for so long, for the day she would go inside and find him awake, his pine green eyes on her once again.

A step inside and her hand went instinctively on her belly over her scrubs where her bump had barely started to show.

“Rowan…”

*

“Rowan…”

A female voice distracted him from his thoughts. He turned his head and saw a woman with golden hair and the most amazing blue eyes with a ring just as golden as her hair. She wore scrubs, probably another doctor checking up on him. But the way she had said his name was different from how doctor Westfall had said it.

She was stunning. That much he could admit.

“Ro…” she said it with a soft tone and moved a step toward him and he had a feeling she was not just a regular doctor checking on him. Why was she crying? Then his eyes moved to her left hand on her stomach and spotted a ring. He looked at his left hand and saw a matching one on his fourth finger.

His breath hitched at the realisation. The doctor had mentioned a wife. Was it her? Panic rose in him. He was not ready.

“Who are you?”

“Aelin. My name is Aelin Whitethorn-Galathynius.”

Rowan froze. That was his surname and she had used it with what was possibly hers. The woman never moved from her spot. She just stood there staring at him, her blue eyes on him and he had no idea how to react. This woman was apparently his wife. What could he say to her?

“I am Rowan.” He said feeling stupid. She knew already but in that moment was all he could say.

“I know.” She whispered, finally moving a step in his direction “I have known your name for a very long time.”

“I don’t know you.” He admitted feeling his chest tighten.

“I know.” She sat on the chair beside his bed “I know. Amnesia will be temporary. It will slowly start to come back to you. You just need to be patient. Both of us.”

He looked at her and something tugged in him. It was as if although his mind could not recognise the woman in front of him, his body could. It was a strange sensation. The sense of familiarity. His guts were telling him to trust that woman.

“We’ll face it together. To whatever end.”

He had no idea what she was talking about but he wanted to believe her.

“Do you want me to tell you something about us?”

Rowan nodded, eager to piece together some pieces of the mystery his life had become. How had he ended up with her?

Aelin’s hand caressed her stomach.

“We met at University of Terrasen. You were studying law and I was in med school. We had friends in common and I met you at a party and  I thought you were the most obnoxious and annoying man alive.” He heard her chuckle “until a year later when you brought me coffee in the library while I was cramming hard during an exhausting exam session. Then you brought me cake and slowly I realised you were not that annoying.” She continued her tale while her hand gently brushed the tip of his fingers.

“You kept me company and studied with me while I was rambling on medical terms, procedures and other crazy stuff.” He heard her sob “and then we both realised our feeling had changed. We dated. A year later we moved in together. Once we graduated you proposed to me. We got married.” Aelin stood and paced and a ragged sigh left her mouth “after a lot of heartbreak and miscarriages we had our little boy Thomas. A year and a half later Freyja came along as well.” 

Rowan gasped. They had kids. He was married to this woman and they had a family and he could not remember any of that.

“Stop.” He said in a harsher tone than intended “This is too much.”

His wife sat back down and her puffy eyes broke his heart. How was it possible that he felt so heartbroken for a woman he had just met?

Except he didn’t. They had been together for a long time and that feeling of familiarity came back to hit him like a sledgehammer.

“I need to be alone.” He said, turning his head and heard her sob loudly and felt the urge to reach out to her. But he fought it.

He needed space.

“I have to go back anyway.” She stood and pressed a kiss on his head “I will see you later.” And left the room.

Rowan threw his head in the pillow and felt his eyes swell with tears. Why was he crying? Why sending that woman away hurt that much? No, not just that woman. His wife. He had a family, a wife and two kids and all of it felt overwhelming.

He wanted to know more, but at the same time he was scared. What if turned out he hated the life he had? Until his memories started to return he had to trust her. Believe that he had chosen that life.

He sighed and his thought kept going back to Aelin.

Eventually he fell asleep with the smell of lemon and verbena still tingling his nostrils.

Aelin quickly went back to her office, locked the door and collapsed on her chair. And cried. She knew it was a possibility. She had discussed it with Yrene after his surgery. She had been preparing herself for the last month but it turned out she had not been as ready as she made herself believe. In that room she had been a stranger to Rowan. Their kids were strangers to their father and she could not tell him again that another baby was on its way. It would have been too much. 

She cried, remembering how happy Rowan had been when, two months before, she told him she was pregnant again. 

They wanted a big family. They both had good jobs and could afford it. After years of loss they finally had their dream. And then that blasted accident happened. The car driver had hit Rowan and her life was suddenly plunged into hell.

A hell in which for a month she had to tell their kids why dad was not home yet. Console them when they could not play with their dad or have him read stories before bed. Her mum had been helping her looking after the kids while she was at work. But they missed their dad. Freyja especially who was his exact copy and not just physically.

Her sobs grew in intensity. 

She missed her husband too. Her heart ached for him. For the comfort she would find in his arms after a bad day at work. 

Her pager went off and Aelin quickly brushed her eyes and cleared away the tears and left her office in a rush.

She could hide her pain into work. Pretend, for a few hours, that she was not living in a nightmare. That her life with Rowan had not been put on hold. 

For a few hours, inside that OR she could just be Aelin.

[heauxplesslydevoted]

Then & Now (Ethan x MC)

Summary: A particularly difficult case forces Ethan to confront a blast from his past

A/N: This popped into my head and I had too much fun writing it. I will loosely incorporate some of the themes from book 3 and make them better, but this is mostly an AU.

A/N 2: Yes I’m writing another multipart fic while actively ignoring my others. The muses spoke and I had no choice in the matter. Enjoy!

~v~

“Would you like some more coffee, Dr. Ramsey?”

Whatever line he was reading in his textbook blurs as does his vision. Ethan looks up at the face of the newest member of the team, a young resident, Isabelle. He takes the cup, not missing the way her eyes light up as he does so. What is it with residents and their incessant need to kiss-ass and be people pleasers?

“Thank you, Dr. Proctor.”

“Of course! I figured we’d need all the caffeine we could get our hands on with this case.”

Ethan doesn’t respond with words, only offering the young woman a hum in acknowledgement. Instead his eyes land on his coworker, Harper Emery. “Harper, has your team been able to come up with anything new?”

“Nothing,” Harper replies with a resigned sigh.

“You have got to be kidding me.”

“I’ve run as many tests, MRIs and CT scans as I could, and none of them came back with anything conclusive. We’re officially back to square one.”

Ethan hasn’t been this stumped in years. A week ago, a patient came to Edenbrook after waking up without being able to feel anything from the waist down. A young, relatively healthy 25 year old with no extraordinary medical history, no recent reports of any TBI, nothing. He assumed with Harper–one of the nation’s greatest neurosurgeons–on the case, that this would be a simple fix.

As painful as it is to admit, he’s wrong.

They’ve gotten nowhere with the case, they’ve made no progress, and to make matters worse, he has Leland Bloom and the board breathing down his neck because it’s been years since the team has spent more than a week on a case, so a week with no news reflects poorly on them—on him, as the team’s leader specifically.

The last member of the team, Tobias, clears his throat. “Did he ever mention getting into a fight? Maybe he took a hit to the head, and just doesn’t want to admit it?”

“Maybe, but like I said, none of the CT scans or MRIs showed me anything out of the norm,” Harper says. “I can always ask him again.”

“That’d be ideal–”

Ethan’s sentence is cut off as the door to their office is thrown open, and in walks Leland. “Hello, team!”

The most senior members of the team stay silent, but Isabelle gives a slight wave. “Hello, Mr. Bloom.”

“Dr. Proctor,” Leland greets in turn. “Nice to know at least one of you has manners.”

Ethan checks the time on his watch. “What are you doing here, Bloom?”

“Last time I checked, I owned this entire building and I didn’t need to ask your permission to be here.”

“We’re nearing midnight,” Ethan adds. “What are you still doing here, and not at home? I’m sure Mrs. Bloom would enjoy seeing you.”

Leland ignores the mention of his wife Caroline, pretending like she wasn’t mentioned at all. “I just stopped by your patient’s room to see how he was doing. And then I decided to drop by to check in with you guys. Are there any updates on the Miller case?”

“I’m not discussing patient information with you,” Ethan says.

“Well, I am your boss.”

“And until you go to medical school, graduate, become a doctor at this hospital, and join in on this case, I don’t have to tell you anything. You may own this hospital, but I do not have to discuss my patients with you.”

“Okay, so you guys have no new information,” Leland concludes.

Ethan pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance, this conversation giving him a headache even though it just started. “We were actually in the middle of a brainstorming session before we were interrupted, so if we could have some privacy again, that would be much appreciated.”

Ethan’s tone causes Leland to drop the veneer of kindness, the smile dropping from his face only for a second before he catches it. He looks away and sniffs haughtily. “Fine. I’ll check in with the patient tomorrow for a status update, since it’s clear I won’t be getting it from my employees. Thankfully, his father and I go way back.”

“I can’t stop the patient from divulging his own information.”

Leland glances around the room one more time, his gaze lingering on Ethan a bit longer than it does on the other occupants. “Goodnight, doctors.”

Once Leland leaves, Harper turns towards Ethan. “You act like it would literally kill you to be nice to him.”

“Be nice for what? Bloom thinks we owe him undying loyalty and infinite ass kissing because he bought the hospital. He’s pulled a lot of nonsense since moving into this position, but he’s not worth breaking any laws over. My patients deserve their privacy.”

“And I agree, but the extra hostility isn’t needed. The last thing we need is World War 3 with you and Bloom tearing down the hospital. Just be nice.”

“Okay, are we getting back to work or calling it a night?”

The rest of the team glances around each other. Pulling an all-nighter with Ethan while he’s in a foul mood sounds like a nightmare.

“We’re calling it a night.”

~v~

Ethan ends up falling asleep in the office, finally dozing off around 5 o'clock in the morning, surrounded by a mountain of books and the harsh light of his computer screen. The sleep is short lived though as the sound of his pager wakes him up.

He jumps up with a start, and checks the time on his watch before checking his pager. He only managed to get two hours of sleep, but he can’t dwell on that. The page is a 911 alert to his patient’s room.

“Shit!”

He takes off to the 4th floor where his patient is housed, thankful that the early morning hour means the hospital is not yet flooded with people.

Isabelle, Harper, and a nurse are already in the room when Ethan finally makes it. “What’s going on?”

“He had a seizure,” Harper explains.

“How long did it last?”

“Around 50 seconds. We administered lorazepam into his IV.”

“Could this be a new symptom?” Valencia asks. “Or something else entirely?”

Harper shrugs. “I don’t know, but I’m going to take him down to radiology for another CT scan. Hopefully this next one can actually yield some results.”

Ethan nods. “That sounds like a plan. In the meantime, Dr. Proctor, add seizures onto the list of symptoms to broaden our search criteria. Maybe that’ll help.”

“Gotcha.”

“We’ll reconvene when Tobias comes in and once we get the new CT scans back.”

There’s a knock at the door and Ethan bristles when Leland’s loud voice calls out to him. “Dr. Ramsey, can I speak to you out in the hallway?”

“With all due respect, I’d rather not.”

“It wasn’t a request, doctor. Hallway, now.”

Ethan shoots Harper a look, and she gives him a quick sympathy smile before he and Leland step out into the hallway.

They move a few feet away from the patient’s door, out of earshot before Leland lays into Ethan. “How in the hell is the patient actually managing to get worse under your care?”

The question actually takes Ethan aback. “You can’t possibly be saying his condition is my fault?”

“I’m saying he’s been here for a week now, and he’s no better off than where he was. You don’t have any information to give him or his family. Do you know how many phone calls my assistant has had to field because they want to get him transferred to a different facility?”

“We are giving him the best care possible, Leland. Just because you and his father belong to the same country club or whatever, does not mean there’ll be some instant diagnosis or treatment that he can buy...or steal. We need to do our due diligence.”

Leland is smart enough to know when a dig is being lobbed in his direction. His eyes narrow. “What are you trying to say, Ethan?”

“Exactly what I just did. Besides, why do you have such a vested interest in my team and what we do? I’m sure you have other businesses and people to micromanage these days.”

“You guys don’t make me any money yet remain my biggest cost. The least you can do is be efficient and answer my questions when I ask.”

“And like I told you last night, I know you own this place. You never let me forget it. But you buying this hospital does not mean I am here at your beck and call, now does it mean I have to be governed under anything that isn’t set forth by the American Medical Association. Now, me team is the best this hospital and this city have to offer, so back up and let us do our jobs.”

“You guys are the best?” Leland chuckles humorlessly. “Act like it. Or I’ll find someone else who can.”

The threat causes Ethan to pause. “What does that mean?”

“You heard me loud and clear, Dr. Ramsey. Loud and clear.”

~v~

“You idiot! Why on earth would you get into a fight with Bloom in the middle of a hallway?”

Ethan doesn’t try to school his bored expression as Tobias paces the entire length of the office, huffing and puffing as he does so.

“I didn’t get into a fight with him,” Ethan amends. “It was an exchange of words.”

“A loud exchange of words,” Harper adds. “In front of our patient’s room, might I add.”

“I had plans for this day to be productive, but the minute that man opens his mouth, I just–”

“We get it, you don’t like him,” Tobias interjects.

“Disliking Leland is an understatement.”

Isabelle stays silent, unable to find a good place to cut in, despite having questions. Ethan’s dislike of Leland Bloom is the hospital’s worst kept secret, but the contention has always been passive aggressive at best. And as a second year resident, she doesn’t have any background knowledge on why the relationship is the way that it is.

“I don’t like him either, but you don’t see me needling him in front of the nurse’s station!”

“Sure Leland is...obnoxious at times, but I don’t understand any of it,” Isabelle says, finally speaking up. Ethan looks at her as if he’s just now remembering that she’s been in the room the entire time. “What happened that caused this much animosity?”

Leland’s kidney disease wasn’t a major secret. Most medical personnel that worked at Edenbrook and the larger Boston area remember the huge media blitz, and all of the pomp and circumstance surrounding his hospitalization early last year. And the official story is Leland got a kidney from a family member who wished to keep their identity a secret from the public, and everyone ate it up.

Only a handful of people know the truth. That a few well placed phone calls and dollars exchanged got Leland to the top of the donor list within a day, stealing a second chance from the true person at the top of the list: a 14 year old girl.

“So long as there is breath in my body, Leland Bloom and his ilk will never get an ounce of respect from me, and I’ll just leave it at that,” Ethan says cooly. “And that’s all you need to know, Dr. Proctor.”

“Okay.”

“I’m just saying man, Bloom is petty,” Tobias adds. “Men like him, who think the rest of us should bow at their feet, don’t take kindly to getting told off, especially in public. Underneath the billions is a tiny ass, fragile ego. Can you just keep a low profile and be quiet for the next day or two, so Bloom doesn’t dismantle this team?”

“I’ll be as cordial as Bloom is,” is what Ethan settles upon. “Nothing more, nothing less.”

The only thing that can rival Ethan’s intelligence is his stubbornness. Tobias knows it’s the best he’s going to get out of Ethan, so he relents. “Okay.”

“Good. Now can we get back to work and stop talking about Bloom?”

His team nods and Ethan sighs in relief.. They still have a chance to turn things around and actually have a good day.

They fall into a productive routine, tossing around different theories, sharing research and narrowing down ideas. Too bad that only lasts for about half an hour before there’s a knock at the office door. A few seconds later, Naveen pokes his head in.

Ethan smiles because part of him was expecting Leland to show up again. “Naveen, this is a nice surprise! Don’t tell me you’re ready to get back in the saddle.”

Naveen laughs good-naturedly at his mentee. “Not quite.”

“Well what brings you down here?”

“I wanted to talk to you for a second, Ethan,” Naveen says.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yes. It’s not about me, it’s work related. Team related news, that I wanted to tell you personally,” Naveen explains, fully entering the office. “Is there any way I could steal you for a few minutes?”

“If it involves the team, I think we can have the conversation here. Is this about my...spirited discussion with Leland?”

“No, it’s about the case you’re working on.”

“Now I know we don’t usually work on cases for this long, and we’re working on it.”

“I know. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Leland has some concerns about how long it’s taking you guys to treat this patient, and he told me that he wants to outsource some extra help to speed things along.”

“No thank you.”

“He’s already made phone calls. I’m just here to give you a heads up about who he picked.”

“A heads up?” Ethan scoffs and rolls his eyes. Who on earth could Leland think of reaching out to that Ethan would need a warning about? “Who is he asking for? Mendoza from MK? Catherine Morgan from Stanford? The Boogeyman?”

“I don’t think I’ve reached Boogeyman levels of infamy. Well, at least not yet.”

The voice makes the hair on the back of Ethan’s neck stand up. It’s a voice he hasn’t heard in close to three years, one that he thought he’d never hear again.

His eyes snap up, locking with the large brown ones staring back at him, and all of the breath leaves his lungs at once. The last time he looked into these eyes, they weren’t full of humor like they are now, but pure fire. His chest constricts, inhaling suddenly the most difficult task in the world.

The entire room goes silent, everyone watching as Ethan and the woman stay locked in their staring contest. Isabelle’s eyes dart back and forth, hoping someone can clue her into what’s going on, but Naveen, Harper and Tobias offer zero assistance.

Isabelle takes the quiet time to appraise the stranger. She’s petite, almost a foot shorter than Ethan even with her sky high Jimmy Choos on. The second thing that catches her attention is the mess of dark curly hair spilling over her shoulders, and the amused smirk on her face, like a cat that got the canary.

The woman breaks eye contact with Ethan to look past his shoulder. “Harper, Tobias, hello. Long time no see.”

When he regains the ability to speak, Ethan grits out, “Naomi, what on earth are you doing here?”

“I got an interesting call from Leland Bloom this morning, saying that the diagnostics team was in dire need of some assistance on a particularly difficult case. Within the hour, his private helicopter was picking me up.”

Ethan takes a sterling’s breath and silently counts to 3 before talking again. “I’m not working with you.”

“You don’t have a choice. Not unless you quit.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

Naomi rolls her eyes. “Drama was never a good look on you, darling, I was always better suited for it.” She turns her attention to the young resident gawking at her, turning on her megawatt smile. “You’re new. I don’t know you.”

“Um, n-no you don't. I’m Dr. Isabelle Proctor.”

“Isabelle,” Naomi repeats slowly, letting it roll off of her tongue. “What a pretty name.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m Dr. Naomi Ramsey.”

The last name catches her attention. Her eyes flicker over to Ethan’s face, catching the way his jaw ticks as female Dr. Ramsey talks.

“I can see the wheels turning in your head as I talk, so I’ll clear things up for you right quick,” Naomi continues. “No, the last name thing isn’t a coincidence. I’m Ethan’s ex-wife." She sticks out a hand for Isabelle to shake. "Nice to meet you.”

~v~

Tags: @openheartfanfics @mvalentine @choicesaddict5 @professorkingslay @maurine07 @aka-calliope @bluebellot @whimsicallywayward15 @blossomanarchy @takemyopenheart @jamespotterthefirst @fanmantrashcan @whatchique @ao719 @x-kyne-x @paulfwesley @the-pale-goddess @writinghereandthere @ramseyandrys @perriewinklenerdie @aworldoffandoms @thatcatlady0716 @drakewalker04 @canknot @hatescapsicum @lapisreviewsstuff @senseofduties @badchoicesposts @ethandaddyramseyx @chasingrobbie @zodiacsign1 @choices-lurker @my-heart-beats-for-ya @adrian-motherfucking-raines @riverrune @edith-eggs1 @cecilecontrera @thatysn @bellcat2010 @blainehellyes @junehiratas @choices-love-affair @openheart12 @desmaranj @nazario-sayeed @aestheticartsx @ruinedbypixels @nooruleman @rookie-ramsey @uneravine @choicest

[unforth]

…okay I don’t think I’m going to manage another prompt fill today, my brain just won’t boot, but I guess that means this is as a good a time as any to explain what the fuck is going on. I’ve already talked about it on like three of my Discord servers but I know I have a lot of mutuals on here who aren’t in any of those servers so.

I’ve been having issues with my back on and off since my mid 20s. I didn’t have insurance then so I didn’t do anything about it, and when I did get insurance at 31 it wasn’t a priority. However, after I had a really bad flare up while I was pregnant with our second kid, it became a higher priority. When I had another flare up and wasn’t pregnant, so I could actually get testing, I went to an ortho urgent care. They did an x ray, said nothing was wrong, and told me I should get painkillers. So I went to my PCP, said I thought I needed an MRI, and they said that would never get approved by insurance and they sent me to PT. That was about 3.5 years ago. I did the PT but since my flare ups never lasted more than 6 weeks, and the PT was a six week course, obviously I was “cured” by the PT, so every time I had a flare up any attempt at care was met with, “go to PT.” And considering that first round of PT 1. Didn’t help and 2. Cost me $750 out of pocket cause insurance didn’t cover it…yeah I didn’t do that. My flare ups got more and more frequent, from once every few years in my 20s, to once every year, to more than once a year. This year, one last winter never fully faded.

By summer I had steady low level pain and stiffness but I could manage through it so I just ignored it. That started intensifying in October, and I thought it was a full new flare by November, except the pain was different than past flares - more intense, more constant, much harder to ignore and work through. It also had a strong radiating sciatic component that was fucking ow. And it got steadily worse. I spoke to my PCP about a month in; she offered PT and I said no. She got me naproxon for pain and baclifen as a muscle relaxer. It didn’t help. She told me if it didn’t fade in six weeks I should call again. Which I did, a few days before Christmas, when it was clear that far from fading, it was getting steadily worse. I couldn’t stand long enough to do the dishes without incapacitating pain; Christmas night I drove my mom home and couldn’t make my foot depress enough to press the brake. That was. Well it’s a good thing moms house is only a few minutes away. I haven’t driven since then cause I have only gotten worse. She referred me to a specialist I chose because of their good reputations and my wife’s knowledge of them,

I talked to the specialist about everything last Thursday, and finally, after four years of me telling any doctor I could that I thought I needed an MRI, I had my first ever MRI on Monday. The specialist also gave me much better meds, which at least have meant I slept; by the night before my appointment I was in so much pain that sleep was literally impossible; I spent the night curled in a ball on the couch playing Minecraft and wishing any position would hurt less cause I was so tired. (I’d hardly slept three other nights that week for similar reasons).

Anyway, yesterday I had my follow up with the specialist to discuss the MRI results and, uh. I guess my first appointment I didn’t do a great job of explaining just how much pain I was in, because she was very much talking about PT and related treatment. After looking at the MRI she said, I’m going to see if the surgeon is available to speak to you literally right now (unfortunately, he wasn’t). She still hedged bets and said the surgeon might not recommend surgery, but after she said that she spent the entire rest of the appointment discussing surgery so. She clearly thinks I need surgery. I have a herniated bulging disc between my L4 and L5 vertebrae which has caused spinal stenosis, which is leading to the pain, tingling, growing weakness, etc. in laymens terms, the disc is all fucked up and it’s pressing on my spinal cord. It’s basically just a matter of time now before I start to risk permanent nerve damage (I’m not there yet but could easily get there). I wasn’t even able to get an appointment with the surgeon yet, because his regular calendar is full for weeks out, and they need to talk to his secretary to see if he can squeeze me in much sooner, but she won’t be back in the office until Monday. In the meantime, she gave me a list of conditions that, should I meet any of them, I should immediately go to the ER, tell them what’s going on, and the surgeon on call would do the surgery instead (the spine folks I saw are part of the hospital, and the four surgeons they have are the four on call surgeons at the ER, and they’re all good, so this isn’t going to get me worse care). She also made it sound like, given staff shortages caused by Covid and scheduling issues also caused by Covid, there was a pretty high chance I’d have to use the ER option.

All of which is to say, I need major surgery on my back and I’ve been in continual pain for about 2 months.

I’m currently on ludicrous amounts of medication, and yesterday she added prednisone to the mix, and that’s what’s just. Completely knocking me out. I was doing okay before that but today I really am just reverting to my natural boneless blob state on the couch…and I’m still in pain and can hardly stand.

I have no idea when my surgery will be, since I could theoretically meet one of the “go right now” criteria at any time. We’ve made what arrangements we can, and will be making more as we’re able, but…yeah. It’s a lot. I’m actually relieved about the surgery itself, since I’ve been dealing with this for so long, and I’ve been so sure I had a herniated disc and that I’d need surgery to fix it, and sure enough I was right, and if they’d listened to me sooner, I might not be in this mess now, but oh well. The surgery has a very high success rate and if I do PT and stuff after odds are I’ll be pain free and back to 100% once I’m through the recovery, so this isn’t a bad thing, I mostly just wish I could fucking get it over with again.

I am. So tired.

(I also can’t sit at my computer literally at all anymore; I’m doing everything from my iPad rn, which is why everything I write is full of typos and weird auto corrects, and I’m sorry.)

(This is also why I’m behind in literally everything I’ve said I’ll do. I’m sorry. I’m trying.)