#lifesaving procedure

[misterlemonztenth]

| entitled The Kiss of Life, this Pulitzer Prize-winning photo captured mouth-to-mouth resuscitation was captured by Jacksonville, Fla., photojournalist Rocco Morabito in 1967. Misterlemonztenth.tumblr.com/archive

[farshootergotme]

I'll always hate how CPR (specifically the mouth-to-mouth resuscitation) has been so romanticized in fiction, portraying it as some kind of 'romantic kiss' that occurs between two love interests when it's actually used to save lives daily irl.

[ribbitrabbot]

speculations

pairing : frank langdon x fem!resident

plot : you and frank have been friends for a long time , so much so that there’s always been a fleet of rumors circling you two . the rumors have never been without reason ; there’s always been sort of a shy tension between the two of you , but you’d never acted on it on the basis that dating between friends and coworkers has always been complicated . but a bad day at work seems to be enough for the both of you to finally acknowledge it .

warnings : uhh none that i can think of , just a bit of a spat with robby . just a bunch of sweet stuff , some fluff and comfort :3

a/n : frank’s not married in this ( idk if this is obvious or not , i’m just saying ) . this is my first x reader in a fat minute , i hope y’all like it !!

word count : 4.4k

“Besides,” You continue, braving the hot slice of pizza enough to gingerly pick it up, “If there’s any ‘next time’, Robby’s gonna kick my ass all the way around the block.” 

“No, he’s not.” Frank picks his own slice from the box, and you do little to hide your somewhat judgemental facial expression as he takes a bite from it, ice-cold. “You’re clearly the favorite. Unless you, I don’t know, kill someone, he’ll always let you off easy.” 

“Easy for you to say, you weren’t in here.” 

“Did he do the face?” 

“What face?” 

“You know, the face. The face he does so you know he’s really disappointed in you.” 

“Frank, I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about.” 

“Like this.” He says, dropping his piece down and then doing his best arms - crossed, head tilt, eyebrow raise Robby — an imitation that looks so stupid on Frank that you can’t help but laugh. You have to hand it to him, though. It’s a pretty accurate disappointed depiction.

The thing about hindsight is, is that it’s usually even more of a bitch than karma. Most people use hindsight to refer to obvious things — in hindsight, I wouldn’t have drunk that much, or in hindsight I wouldn’t have given that creep my number. Your hindsight was mostly about how much you should have listened to your gut screaming at you to call in sick this morning when you rolled out of bed and how stupid you were to ignore the dragging feeling on nights where you’d only gotten a couple hours of sleep. There was no reason for you to feel as crummy as you did; you’d worked in the pit long enough to at least try and shake the feelings away at the end of your shift, shower, eat whatever was left in your refrigerator, and turn on some show you’d already seen three times over. Maybe it wasn’t really healing, but it was enough to get by.

The adrenaline would fix you, anyway, it always did. Or at the very least you were hoping so. Maybe that was the real reason you’d picked emergency medicine as a specialty, besides the usual reasons of helping people, because you were half addicted to the rush of it all. But you were three hours into your shift, and not even the narrow rescue of four victims in a vehicle collision or being included in Perlah and Princess’ gossip had done much to raise your spirits. It must have been written all over your face, too, because it wasn’t just the interns who were tiptoeing around you like you were surrounded by eggshells.

“Mister Grant,” You sighed now, the very last your beside patience being damn near worn to a fray, “You need to understand how much this surgery could help Phoebe. Quite frankly, the longer we wait, the worse it could be for her.”

“But she doesn’t need the surgery right at this second. We can see if she gets any better.” The man insists. You can see the worry in his dark eyes, the entirety of his features aged by concern for his teenage daughter that had been brought in unresponsive by her friend. Any other day, you would feel more sympathetic for him; you would hold his hand and explain in painstaking detail why this procedure could be lifesaving. No parent wanted their child to be cut open needlessly, you can understand that, but today all his stubbornness does is grate on nerves you weren’t even aware of.

“I understand how upsetting this must be for you —“ You begin, a sentence from the nonexistent but universally known manual of Bedside 101, but his sudden anger cuts you off, his eyes flashing with accusation.

“Don’t give me that. All you doctors, it’s the same thing. You understand, you aren’t trying to upset me. You don’t understand. How could you possibly understand, you’re all trying to cut up my kid! Do you have a kid, Doctor? Can you honestly look me in the fucking eyes and say you understand? Fuck you.”

Your jaw ticks. You can see the emotion there, the fear, the need to find someone to lash out at. To blame. Everything in you is screaming to give him the benefit of the doubt, to chalk it up to a parent who sees tubes and wires sticking out of their whole world and immediately jumps to the worst possible conclusion. It’s not altogether an irrational reaction. Hell, if you were in his shoes, maybe you’d react the same way.

And then there’s the small voice within you that just manages to convince you that he’s an asshole. You shouldn’t listen to it. You shouldn’t. Had you been in a cartoon, it would have been the little devil whispering in your ear.

“Fine.” You say, with a sort of edged coolness that parents normally have when their children say something just a step too far. Your smile is tight lipped, and you wonder if your eyes flash with the barely restrained anger that you feel jumbling up inside of you. “Fine. I can tell that you, Mister Grant, clearly know more than me. It’s not like I’ve seen a dozen of these cases before. Hey, I’ve been to medical school, but you’re right. What do I know? I don’t have any kids.” You shrug sarcastically, then turn towards Donnie, who looked as though he was trying to walk past unnoticed. In fact, it looked like the entire radius in which you were speaking to Mr. Grant had suddenly turned into a danger zone. “Donnie, can you get Mister Grant any medical records he may need for Phoebe? And let O.R know — “

“Doctor L/n, can I consult with you?” The voice behind you stops your locomotive of orders dead. You turn just enough to acknowledge Robby, whose normally playful brown eyes have hardened to a coolness reserved for cocky interns and hardass superiors. But you’re surprised by the spike of annoyance that greets you, instead of any sort of remorse. The last thing you need is a chew - out from Robby, but there’s no avoiding it.

“Yeah. Fine.” You say curtly.

“Mister Grant, I’ll be back with you in a second, okay?” With a quick sentence, Robby confirms the trouble you’re in. ‘I’ll’, not your name or even we. He barely casts you a glance before turning on his heel, Mr. Grant still too stunned to even give a real reply. You pinch the bridge of your nose, tilting your head at the ground before sighing and following him.

You know the way to the break room, and even the looks that you’re getting as you follow Robby, even though you’re usually on the other side of them. The both of you are lucky it’s empty, and Robby almost slams the door behind him as he follows you in. You watch, biting the inside of your cheek as he tiredly rubs his face; you lean against the counter.

“Wanna tell me what the hell’s going on with you?” He asks, crossing his arms as he looks at you, head tilting.

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve had a stick up your ass all day, so if I need to schedule OR to take it out, let me know.” Had he not been snippy, it would have been a better joke. Instead it makes you clench your teeth.

“I’m just tired.” It’s an excuse you’ve used a million times. Robby smiles and shakes his head.

“Oh, bullshit.” He’s right. You both know it. “You’re not the ‘just tired’ type, Y/n. You’re tired, take a walk. But you cannot talk to your patients like that.”

“Come on, Robby, you saw how that guy was acting. He was a fucking asshole!”

“It doesn’t matter, Y/n!” The laughter in his voice is stressed, dangerous. “You’re smarter than this. You’re tired, you’re stressed, take a walk, eat, do whatever you need to do. But you don’t lose your shit. Got it? Can you do that?”

You know it’s not personal. You know Robby has a thousand different things on his plate, that your temper is just another thing for him to worry about. That this is him keeping his own temper towards you — but it doesn’t make you feel any better. You want to feel angry at him, to only wallow in the hollowness that has haunted you since the day’s start. It makes his tone feel more patronizing than it normally would.

“Gee, I don’t know, that’s really hard, but I think I can handle it.” You sneer, your voice dripping with sarcasm. Robby looks at you, and for a moment you feel sorry. But before you can admit it, he gives a short sigh.

“Take a minute.” He’s out of the room before you can say anything else. Half of you wants to defy him, to stride out of the room and get back to work to prove a point. You don’t need Robby to put you in timeout, to punish you for acting the same way anyone would with the difficult Mr. Grant. Instead, you stare at the door he closed behind him, hands wandering up and pressing to your eyes after a long moment. The other half of you doesn’t care enough to prove a point. That half of you knows that it’s a losing fight, that if you go out there as hotheaded as you are right now, that it’s less a get back at Robby and more making everyone around you tense without reason. Maybe that would slide in any other sort of job, but the pit needed to work like a machine. No one could afford to be worrying about their coworkers when they already had worry enough with the patients that constantly came pouring into the door.

You’re just about to open the refrigerator to see what forgotten food you could raid when a knock snags your attention. You can’t place whether or not you hope it’s Robby or you hope it’s not, either way you scarcely bother to glance at the door before you call out.

“What?”

The door opens, but only some.

“Safe to come in?”

You’re unprepared for how welcome the familiar voice is, and it suddenly comes with a realization that you hadn’t heard it much at all today. You don’t bother to look behind you, but you answer.

“Whatever.”

Frank takes it as a yes. He closes the door gently behind him, then creeps up to look over your shoulder at the shelves of the refrigerator.

“Pizza’s probably your best bet. Unless you want to take your chance with yogurt that is either the same flavor or the same carton that was here in January.”

God, he’s so fucking annoying.

He’s close enough that his voice buzzes in your ear. Had anyone else done this, there was a very real possibility that you would have flipped your shit — someone with a lack of personal space would be a cherry on top of the shit show the last few minutes had already been. Instead, you try not to roll your eyes and slap your hand on top of the cardboard box.

“Move.” You order, and you can feel him back off from behind you. When you finally turn to face him, he’s already looking at you. His hands are tugging mindlessly at the stethoscope around his neck — you’d noticed a long time ago that he usually needed to be doing something with his hands. To ask him to sit still and do nothing for five minutes was as good as medieval torture. It was endearing most of the time, although a bouncing leg or a mindless tapping of his pen could get annoying. You don’t indulge him, instead you pull out a chair from the table and slap the cardboard box down.

Although you’re not in the most talkative of moods, you’re glad that he’s here. Truth be told, he was probably the only one you could handle being around at the moment.

You’d met him when you’d first started your residency at Pittsburgh Trauma Medical, not too long ago although it now felt like a lifetime. He’d been even cockier then, if that was even possible — a scrappy, difficult, smartass who had to learn things the rough way before he developed a begrudging admiration for Robby, which would later turn into a mutual bond. In those days, you remembered fondly, he often had unshaven stubble and a shadow under his eyes; those who didn’t know any better would think him a med student for all the time he spent here. You’d gotten along with him even then, even when people found his humor irritating and his doctoring methods questionable. Granted, the road had not always been smooth; there’d been a lot of banter in those early days. Well, maybe calling it banter was being a little too nice. Usually, he’d say something irritating, and you’d respond with something that would make him crack a smile of amusement. And other times he’d say something to make you laugh, genuinely, and he’d smile in response to that, too.

But the fun that came with the back and forth was only part of why the two of you had ultimately ended up being so close. Frank was smart, genuinely smart. Anyone, you’d learned, could memorize stuff from books and lectures and hours and hours of classes and tests, spit out the facts that they’d been forced to memorized like they were computers accessing files; and most did. But Frank knew people and because he knew people he knew his business. Most doctors you’d worked with diagnosed them and treated them like the print advised them to treat them. Frank would diagnose them and then treat them to get better whether it was textbook or not, and he did it in the span of a few seconds or the span of a few days. There was a genuine care that was veiled by the guise of a blunt sense of humor. Perhaps your ability to see past the veil was what had allowed you two to work so excellently together at the beginning, and later become a duo not unlike … well, whatever duo worked together really well.

“You’re a popular girl.” Frank murmurs, pulling a chair to sit, uninvited, next to you. You scoff and roll your eyes, fiddling with the pizza box as you try to decide whether you’re hungry or just upset. It’s unsurprising, the fact that the news of your flip - out on a patient’s concerned father has made the rounds so quickly. “Want me to try it first, make sure it’s not too moldy?” Frank asks after a beat, nodding towards the box. He’s worried, even if he’s trying to disguise it with a stupid tease. You can hear it in his tone. When you work with somebody almost every day, you get to tell what every single inflection means, every single pitch.

“You see me freak out?” You ask, turning your head as your rest your cheek in your hand.

“Uh, no, but you did that screeching thing you do when you get really mad.”

“Fuck you.” You have to try not to crack a smile. “I didn’t screech.”

It’s almost like just sitting in the room with him is relieving a tenseness you hadn’t even realized had been so heavy on you, like his voice was dusting a layer of soot away from your insides.

“Okay I wasn’t there, but Perlah said it got pretty ugly.” Frank drags the pizza box towards himself, then gets up with it, wandering over towards the microwave.

“Perlah said! Perlah’ll say anything if it’s good gossip.”

“Well, I gotta keep myself entertained somehow, and if you’re not gonna talk, Perlah’s my next best option.” Frank manages to find a plate to put what you imagine your slice, and you have to hand it to him — he’s got you backed into a corner where you have to answer.

“It wasn’t that bad.” You insist after a moment after Frank puts your pizza in to heat up, and then rotates to face you. “It’s just. Parents, you know. Sometimes they can be … “ you trail off as you search for the right word. “Irritating.”

“Stupid.” Frank agrees, giving the word that you were a little too nice to say outright. “I swear to God, I don’t know how some of them raise a whole person.”

“They’re raising a person that’s gonna end up with a bunch of disorders.” You joke, which pries a chuckle out of Frank as he pulls your food out of the microwave.

“When you flip your shit on a parent next time, can you make sure I’m there to watch? Or better yet, I’ll record it and then play it at your funeral in fifty years.” He puts the plate down in front of you, then sits back down with the box in front of him.

“You’re insane if you think you think you’re gonna be invited to my funeral. And I’m gonna outlive you anyway.” You smile. It’s strange thing to think of you two staying friends for so long, but then again it’s almost like you can’t even remember what it had been like when you didn’t see Frank most every day. You two were practically joined at the hip whenever you were on shift together, working together in sync the way doctors rarely did. It was no surprise that the rumors had begun to spark just a week or two after you two had just met. You wouldn’t be surprised if there was actually a monetary pool surrounding the idea if you two had actually slept together, considering that you’d been asked more than once if you two were an item. There were a thousand reasons to shoot it down — dating in the workplace, especially one where so much hinges on trust and teamwork, a fallout would be the last thing anyone needed. And you two had been friends for so long, there was the fear that anything more would ruin what you had already. But then again, there was the looks that lasted a little too long — the flirtations that lingered somewhere between a joke and the real thing that made you wonder if there could be something more.

“Besides,” You continue, braving the hot slice of pizza enough to gingerly pick it up, “If there’s any ‘next time’, Robby’s gonna kick my ass all the way around the block.”

“No, he’s not.” Frank picks his own slice from the box, and you do little to hide your somewhat judgmental facial expression as he takes a bite from it, ice-cold. “You’re clearly the favorite. Unless you, I don’t know, kill someone, he’ll always let you off easy.”

“Easy for you to say, you weren’t in here.”

“Did he do the face?”

“What face?”

“You know, the face. The face he does so you know he’s really disappointed in you.”

“Frank, I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about.”

“Like this.” He says, dropping his piece down and then doing his best arms - crossed, head tilt, eyebrow raise Robby — an imitation that looks so stupid on Frank that you can’t help but laugh. You have to hand it to him, though. It’s a pretty accurate disappointed depiction.

“You’ve had a lot of experience with that?” You ask, unable to tamper down your grin as he smiles back at you.

“Absolutely more than my fair share.”

“Poor you.” You coo mockingly, and it’s his turn to roll his eyes as he chuckles.

A silence drifts over the both of you. Frank’s chuckle fades into a gentle smile as he observes you in a way that almost makes you nervous.

“You okay though? Seriously?” He asks, playful tone fading into something more genuine.

“Uh,” you shrug. “I dunno. Weird day.”

“Well it’s a slow day at the office. I can see if he’ll let you knock off early.” The fact that he’s willing to brave a likely already pissed off Robby for you is definitely sweet, and the offer of going home is enticing.

“I have patients.” You try to use that as

your excuse, but Frank is already shaking his head.

“I can take care of them, don’t sweat it.”

“You sure?”

“Look who you’re talking to.”

“Oh, I forgot. You’re Superman.” You mock, but Frank looks prideful at the obvious poke. “Nah, it’ll be okay. If you pick up my shift there’s bound to be speculation. More speculation.”

“What speculation?” He tries to play it off innocently, but you know better. The sly smile ticking across his features is enough to make you shake your head at him, tongue poking into your cheek to try and quell a matching smile.

“You know exactly what speculation, you’re too smart not too.” You remark like it’s supposed to be an insult, yet there’s a certain sort of softness to it as you look at him. The gesture, even if you had not taken up him on it, was an impossibly sweet one. Even if was a “slow day”, as Frank put it, that guaranteed nothing. It could be that things could pick up if you did leave, or that one of your patients could have difficulties, leaving him with a lot to juggle with his and yours. Not to mention the ruthless teasing that he would be sure to endure. You pick up the pizza slice — mostly cool by now — with the intention of finishing it off.

Frank watches you with the same gentle expression on his face as you do so. Had you been intent on going back home, he would have convinced Robby to let you — but then again, he knew you had the same sort of stubbornness that he did, and you weren’t likely to take him up on the offer even if there was cause for more concern. Had he thought there was something seriously wrong, he would have coaxed you into taking the day off. But just like you knew him, he knew you. He knew every tick of your face, what every inflection meant and every offhanded remark. He knew you the way he knew his own mind. There was no doubt in his mind that it was just one of those days; but even if you weren’t going home, he made a mental note to watch you for the rest of your shift, make sure you were really alright. After all, when Perlah had said something about your “flip - out”, he could feel the concern grip him like a rock in his stomach almost immediately. Dana had given him a knowing look when he’d asked where you were so he could check on you. You were right, he wasn’t taking a whole lot of care to avoid fanning any flames of speculation about the both of you; but it wasn’t like they were baseless, either. He cared about you so much it was almost stupid.

“Compliments will get you everywhere, my friend.” He returns with a cocky half smile that you were so familiar with as you turn put your plate in the sink behind you. For a break room, it sure is cramped if you don’t even have to stand up to do so. There’s another bout of silence as you look back at him. Even though he’s hidden it under a mask of light humor, you can still see the slight worry in his eyes. He wouldn’t have hung around this long if he genuinely didn’t want to make sure you would be alright. Again, there’s a slight pang in your chest — a momentary question of what if.

“Thanks for hanging out with me, though.” You say, trying to make it sound casual.

You can tell that the sudden genuineness catches him a little off guard. His cocky half smile fades into something almost unsure; his fingers tap at his knee like a nervous fidget.

“Yeah, you know,” he tries to shrug it off. “I’m around here. A lot. And I like you, so.” You blink, cock your head a little as he shakes his head, tries to reword his statement. “I mean, we’re friends. I wanna know you’re okay.”

Objectively you’ve never seen him so nervous, not even when Robby’s voice boomed across the pit in the tone he uses when he means business and not when the occasional patient, stunning, blonde, and, let’s face it, with a rack that would be the envy of almost any woman flirted shamelessly with him. He’s always been the picture of suave, knowing exactly which lines to say and how to look. But with you, he’s like a high - schooler on a first date. It’s like you disarm him completely — and the shyness seems to be catching.

Barely audible is his name on your lips. Perhaps you meant something to come after it other than the kiss that was maybe him or maybe you or maybe the both of you — almost timid at first and quickly something more intimate; something finally released that had too long been locked away behind harmless flirtations and barely disguised jokes, behind whispered rumors and the knowing looks the nurses and other doctors would give whenever the two of you would pass by, practically matching each other in your strides. Any trace of denial that you two had maintained for the years you’d been here was wiped away in the moment. When you finally pull away from him, your mind is spinning; but it’s almost like an invisible weight has been lifted from you, and you can’t help the subtle smile that plays across your expression.

“So.” He murmurs, practically against your lips still.

“So.”

“We should probably get back.”

“Probably.”

And then he kisses you again, quicker this time, something much more domestic, like he already could get used to kissing you in the days ahead, weeks … years? Yet he didn’t want to get ahead of himself. Even if it was hard not to.

You’re the one to get up first, considering that he’s still looking at you like you’re a muse of some sort. Whatever cloud had been hanging over your head, he had managed to whisk away completely.

“Come on.” You urge as you move to open the door, and with the instruction, it’s like he’s snapped out of some sort of reverie. He gets up out of his chair, wasting no time in following the command, and beats you to pulling open the door as if your kiss has turned him into some sort of gentleman.

“Doing anything tonight?” He asks softly as you fall in step with him, the two of you cautious to avoid any curious glances your way. You crack a grin at how quickly he gets to work, yet something about it is endearing.

“Besides sleeping?” You quirk, and you half expect him to make some lewd comment in reply, but he skips it.

“I have some excellent week - old Chinese food in my refrigerator.” He offers, and you snort and nod, taking a beat to try and come up with a satisfactory reply.

“Hard to turn down free food.” You finally come up with, and you can’t help but think that it’s cute that eyes seem to shine with hope. “We’ll see how this shift goes?”

“Heard.” He responds, before Whitaker snags his attention by calling out his name. As he strides towards the direction the voice came from, he turns on his heel to give you one last glance — one that is impossible not to grin at.

[monarchthefirst]

Whump prompts I can’t get enough of:

1. The shifty and embarrassed look in a stoic leader’s eyes as they finally are forced to reveal an injury to their friends, reluctantly allowing themselves to be treated for the first time. The awkwardness as they strip, and/or lay down to be examined. The subtle fighting to maintain some choice or control ( would rather sit up, “I can do that myself thanks”) and so on.

2. The limp warmth of a Whumpee’s sleeping body as they are treated in the middle of the night. The change in their breathing as the covers are gently pulled back. The clumsiness of their movements as they flit in and out of sleep, sudden gasps or flinching as their wounds are tended. The caretaker’s whispers of comfort, hushing them back to sleep.

3. Whumpee lashing out in sudden rage at some petty action of another, before collapsing and breaking down in sobs. Everyone standing around awkwardly in shock, before caretaker goes in to grab whumpee in a crushing embrace, trying to calm their shaking.

4. Stoic whumpee being humiliated by Whumper. Orders like: ‘strip’, ‘face the wall’, ‘kneel’, ‘down on your hands and knees’, etc etc.

5. Slightly delusional whumpee being tied/held down for some potentially lifesaving procedure and quietly begging caretaker to stop, please please stop. Then more loudly, desperately, until they are crying out and fighting in a panic. Caretaker meanwhile is (1)staring at them in stoic silence while their heart is wrung with pity, or (2) they are quietly reassuring them, telling them it’s going to be alright.

Feel free to use as you like.

[radlaz123]

Unpopular opinion: "Abortions are a lifesaving medical procedure" = "We don't know anything about the female body and we refuse to learn, so we sold women this procedure that kills their young and we packaged it all pretty to convince women that it's empowering. But don't point that out or think for yourself about it."

[dumbhungsubboy]

Is it possible to die from lack of eating pussy? Because I think it is and I’m about to be case number one, I NEED it, it’s practically a lifesaving procedure to eat mommy out at this point

[letters-to-lgbt-kids]

Are you pro-life or pro-choice?

I fear my answer might piss off both sides here but: I’m neither. 

The whole “pro life” vs. “pro choice” framing suggests that abortion is a topic to form an opinion based on personal feelings on. But I refuse to have an opinion on a healthcare procedure. That decision is between the person affected and their doctor. I do not get to have an opinion on it.

I can say I am against a complete ban on abortion - because it is a healthcare procedure. Criminalizing it could kill a person who needs a lifesaving medical intervention. Criminalizing it could also mean that a person who is going through a heartbreaking, even traumatic experience is now treated as a criminal offender on top of that (and that experience wouldn’t even have to be an abortion, it could even be someone going through a miscarriage, an ectopic pregnancy or a molar pregnancy).  

Arguments against abortion too often read as „We should ban breast cancer treatment because breast cancer is bad“. That’s just not how the world works. That would kill people. Breast cancer will not stop existing if we stop treating it. Situations where it’s best to end a pregnancy will not stop existing if we ban abortion.

I can also say I am for reducing the need for abortion - not by banning or criminalizing it, but by providing comprehensive sexual education from an early age, by providing easy access to all contraception options, by making sure everyone can financially afford the contraception option that fits them best, by providing more financial assistance to pregnant people, by supporting single parents, and so on. 

I’m not a big fan of being told to bend over backwards to avoid calling an unborn baby a baby. Using medical terminology (like embryo) is one thing, but calling it a “clump of cells” or a “tumor” is incredibly disrespectful to people grieving a pregnancy loss. It also sends the wrong message. We shouldn’t have to act like abortion is a happy choice, just to convince people that people with a uterus may also need healthcare. Abortion is a hard decision. Unfortunately, healthcare includes making hard decisions. 

Most breast cancers need to be treated and some pregnancies need to be terminated, and neither of that should be based on my feelings. I’m not the center of the universe. I don’t get to give any input there or say in which cases it’s necessary or not - unless I was the person affected or the doctor advising them. 

[littlesyluscrow]

🫀 What Is the 5th Intercostal Space & Why It Matters?

The 5th intercostal space (5th ICS) is the space between your 5th and 6th ribs—specifically along the left midclavicular line (down from the middle of your collarbone, near the nipple line).

This spot is crucial in heart care because it's where doctors and nurses listen to the apical pulse—the heartbeat heard at the tip (apex) of the heart. This location is called the Point of Maximal Impulse (PMI).

📍 Why it's important:

Best place to hear heart rate and rhythm

Used to assess for heart enlargement or fluid buildup

Guides chest tube placement, echocardiograms, and CPR

🔍 How to find it:

Locate your collarbone

Feel down to the 5th rib

The space just under it = 5th ICS

Follow it to the left midclavicular line

For healthcare workers, the 5th ICS is a key landmark for monitoring heart function and performing lifesaving procedures. ❤️‍🩹

[rapeculturerealities]

Porsha Ngumezi Died After Not Getting a D&C in a Texas Hospital — ProPublica

It was clear Porsha needed an emergency D&C, the medical experts said. She was hemorrhaging and the doctors knew she had a blood-clotting disorder, which put her at greater danger of excessive and prolonged bleeding. “Misoprostol at 11 weeks is not going to work fast enough,” said Dr. Amber Truehart, an OB-GYN at the University of New Mexico Center for Reproductive Health. “The patient will continue to bleed and have a higher risk of going into hemorrhagic shock.” The medical examiner found the cause of death to be hemorrhage.

D&Cs — a staple of maternal health care — can be lifesaving. Doctors insert a straw-like tube into the uterus and gently suction out any remaining pregnancy tissue. Once the uterus is emptied, it can close, usually stopping the bleeding.

But because D&Cs are also used to end pregnancies, the procedure has become tangled up in state legislation that restricts abortions. In Texas, any doctor who violates the strict law risks up to 99 years in prison. Porsha’s is the fifth case ProPublica has reported in which women died after they did not receive a D&C or its second-trimester equivalent, a dilation and evacuation; three of those deaths were in Texas.

[jzfrost]

Random AtLA thought:

Bending the elements in and of itself is not “good” or “evil”. Elements are neutral, it’s the bender that decides what they’re going to use them for.

So my thought is: Bloodbending is not evil.

At least, it doesn’t have to be.

Yes, the technique was created in a horrible situation, and was used in harmful ways by corrupt individuals, but it could be used in a good way as well.

Bloodbending would be incredible for healing! Like internal clots could be removed, internal issues could be sensed and fixed. CPR but with bloodbending. You could do surgical procedures with just different styles of waterbending. It could be lifesaving.

I think that if waterbenders were to learn bloodbending for healing it would have to be a select few. Individuals that are pure of heart and won’t be corrupted.

Yes, bloodbending can be a deadly, horrifying technique, but it doesn’t have to be. It doesn’t have to just be about controlling people. It can also be for saving others.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Lil Kalish at HuffPost:

The U.S. Supreme Court on Wednesday will hear arguments for the most important transgender rights case it has ever reviewed — one that could have significant consequences on the future of lifesaving gender-affirming care for youth in the country. At the heart of the case, United States v. Skrmetti, is the question of whether a Tennessee ban on such care violates the 14th Amendment’s equal protection clause, which bars discrimination on the basis of sex. The Tennessee law, Senate Bill 1, encourages minors to “appreciate their sex” by prohibiting puberty blockers or hormone replacement therapy for the purposes of allowing young people to live as an “identity inconsistent with the minor’s sex.”

The Department of Justice, Lambda Legal and the American Civil Liberties Union, who petitioned the Supreme Court to hear the case, have argued that Tennessee’s law amounts to sex discrimination because it specifically bars transgender youth from these medications while allowing cisgender youth to undergo the same treatments for other conditions, such as early puberty. “This case contains some of the worst leaning into sex stereotypes that I’ve ever seen in a statute,” said Sasha Buchert, the director of the nonbinary and transgender rights project at Lambda Legal, the oldest LGBTQ+ law firm in the U.S. “It’s clearly a sex-based consideration because this is the same care that [they’re] just banning for trans people. But even further, there is this gender conformity aspect to the statute, which I think is implicit in all of these bans that we’ve seen. It’s just that Tennessee didn’t want to hide it.”

Tennessee has argued that the law does not specifically target trans people, although the state acknowledges that the ban sets “age- and use-based limits” on puberty blockers, hormones and surgeries for the “purpose of gender transition.” (Gender-affirming surgeries are not an issue in the Supreme Court case, however, as a district court threw out a challenge to those procedures.) The law has faced legal challenges since the Tennessee legislature first passed it in March 2023. One month later, the ACLU filed a lawsuit on behalf of a trans teen identified as L.W., two other families of trans youth, and a Memphis-based doctor. The DOJ then joined the suit.

That summer, a district court found that the ban likely violated the U.S. Constitution and issued a preliminary injunction on parts of the law regarding puberty blockers and hormones. Tennessee’s attorney general, Jonathan Skrmetti, appealed the decision to the U.S. Court of Appeals for the 6th Circuit, which overturned that ruling. The Biden administration then asked the Supreme Court to review this case, arguing that any ban on trans health constitutes sex discrimination.

Since the Supreme Court only took up the Biden administration’s appeal, the court will not be weighing in on the question of whether the state law violates the “fundamental right of parents” to make medical decisions for their children, which is a central question in a separate lawsuit, L.W. v. Skrmetti.

The outcome of United States v. Skrmetti will provide much-needed legal clarity for trans youth and their families amidst an increasingly anti-trans political climate. Twenty-six states have passed laws restricting health care providers from prescribing puberty blockers and hormones, as well as performing surgeries on transgender youth. Lower courts across the country have handed down conflicting rulings when these laws have been challenged. By and large, district court judges have attempted to block these bans, finding them unconstitutional after applying “heightened scrutiny” — a high legal standard used in civil rights cases that forces the government to prove a vested interest in the application of the law. Appeals court judges, on the other hand, have typically used “rational basis,” a lower form of review, when overturning previous injunctions of these bans.

Chase Strangio, the co-director of the ACLU’s LGBTQ and HIV Project, said on a press call Monday that if the Supreme Court rules in favor of Tennessee, it could “erode protections when it comes to sex-based discrimination,” especially in the context of medical care, long term. Strangio, the first trans lawyer to argue before the Supreme Court, is set to deliver a 15-minute oral argument on behalf of the three families of trans youth and the Memphis-based doctor on Wednesday. However, if the Supreme Court rules as the district courts have by applying “heightened scrutiny,” then it will determine that bans on trans health care constitute sex discrimination, similar to how the high court determined in the Bostock v. Clayton County case that discrimination against trans employees is also sex discrimination.

[...]

Science Versus Skeptics

There is a body of scientific evidence to show that puberty blockers and hormone replacement therapy substantially reduce gender dysphoria in adolescent patients, dozens of medical associations argued in briefs submitted to the Supreme Court in September. Doctors, medical groups, LGBTQ+ advocates, Democrats, Republicans and trans individuals have submitted briefs on the efficacy of gender-affirming care to alleviate dysphoria and prevent suicide. However, Tennessee’s brief to the court is skeptical of gender-affirming care. It argues that these medical interventions are “experimental” and claims that at one point a Tennessee hospital, Nashville’s Vanderbilt University Medical Center, began providing trans health care in order to “make a lot of money.” The brief discusses at length how certain “media reports” about Vanderbilt providing gender-affirming care to minors exposed the hospital’s true intentions.

[...] United States v. Skrmetti comes at a pivotal time for trans rights in the U.S. President-elect Donald Trump has promised to “stop” gender-affirming care for minors nationwide, which he has equated to “child abuse” and “sexual mutilation.” The incoming president has also appointed Russell Vought, the co-author of Project 2025, as the director of the Office of Management and Budget. Project 2025, the blueprint for a second Trump term, includes dozens of policies that erase federal protections for LGBTQ+ people, including allowing Medicare and Medicaid to deny coverage for gender-affirming care and removing trans-inclusive protections from Title IV.

Tomorrow at SCOTUS: a very big case on gender-affirming care will be heard for oral arguments, and it is United States v. Skrmetti. The Skrmetti case is a crucial case to determine the fate of gender-affirming care for trans and gender-expansive youths (and adults).

#LGBTQPeopleAreNotGoingBack

See Also:

The Advocate: What to expect in this week’s landmark gender-affirming care U.S. Supreme Court case

[armourhardcore]

abood’s gofundme account has been subject for deletion while there is 10k+ that have yet to be transferred to the campaign managers account. he had to risk his life to travel to an internet access point to have this sorted out.

gofundme has made their stance clear by the continuous withholding of lifesaving funds that have been raised by, and rightfully belong to palestinians. their intrusive investigations put them more at risk. allowing them to work hard to raise money, only to deny them access to it is psychological warfare.

abood and his family need your help.

the sounds of drones with the threat of being targeted are constant. there is no true safe place to go, and yet they are forced time and time again to relocate in the middle of winter; freezing, starving and beyond exhausted. because of all this, his wife has fallen ill and currently stays in a hospital, awaiting a lifesaving procedure. on top of everything, the cost of basic necessities and chances to evacuate are outrageously high. i encourage you to read and share his story as well as donate anything you can to his new campaign site or paypal, every cent counts.

‼️vetted proof here.‼️

[ice-creamforbreakfast]

My friend Sophia finally got to the point in her journey where her dreams were looking like a reality just prior to the apricot hellbeast being voted back in. Understandably, the last few months have caused a lot of anguish (as they have for many), and she wants to get this procedure in order to live her life as freely, safely and as comfortably as she can.

Sophia is a black trans woman and life is becoming increasingly difficult for her, because let's be honest, the world is a hideous place right now.

These surgeries will allow her to not only feel comfortable in her own skin, but minimise harassment and the threat of not only discrimination, but violence. This could be lifesaving in more ways than one.

Lastly, she's one of the kindest people I know, and has been incredibly supportive of others in the community.

Please consider donating to her GoFundMe if you're able to, and if you're not, please reblog and boost it so others might be able to 💜

[wizardpartier]

I really really hope that Lumon didn't just outright kidnap Gemma and fake her death, because I think that would be too over the top for Lumon and would make the show lose some of its subtlety. I think what the show has done really well so far is satirize the evil pharmaceutical companies that exist in the real world by just enough to be impactful. If severance was possible today, I think it really would appeal to enough people that the debates about it we see in the show would be happening, and corporations would be lobbying to be able to use it. Lumon is raised to a level of absurdity by their cult-worship as well as the science fiction to the entire severance procedure, but the underlying themes about worker exploitation are very true to life.

And while real life corporations are absolutely capable of doing this kind of heinous shit - see Coca Cola's murdering of union leaders in Columbia or the Boeing whistleblower who was likely assassinated with no recourse - the idea that Gemma - a random person who posed no threat to Lumon - was just randomly kidnapped (out of all the people who passed through Lumon's system struggling with infertility, why her?) - to me just seems like a reveal to make Lumon seem scarier and eviler.

A lot of people are resistant to the theory that Gemma ended up with Lumon because she volunteered for some experimental fertility treatment, and I understand that urge - it feels almost victim-blamey to imply that she volunteered for the torture she underwent! But a theme that I see the show playing with a lot is consent. Can you meaningfully consent to be severed and work for 8 hours a day as a completely different version of yourself, when the person who experiences the work is not the one doing the consenting, and the person consenting has no idea what they are consenting to? If Gemma volunteered in some capacity for whatever she thought she was going to undergo, was she able to meaningfully consent to that without full knowledge of what it would entail? I see this also reflected in the hurt and betrayed Helly feels when she learns that Helena stole her identity and had sex with Mark. She feels ownership over her body, even though it's a body she shares with Helena. Similarly, Helena is afraid to allow Helly back onto the severed floor, I think in part because she's afraid of not having control over herself, and Helly doing something that she doesn't consent to.

Alternatively, I'm also partial to the theory that Gemma really did die on accident in a crash, and Lumon cloned/revived her. I think taking things in that direction could open up an interesting discussion about corporate ownership of personal data and lifesaving technology. If Lumon cloned Gemma and instilled in her all her previous memories, because she had already signed away the rights to her genetic information or whatever during her fertility struggle, she may be functionally the same person, but Lumon may 'own' this new version of her. Maybe in Season 3, Gemma goes the the media to expose Lumon, only for the courts to determine that actually Lumon has the right to do whatever the hell they want because they created her?

All this to say, I think it would be more interesting if the show goes in a different direction from where I see most fans assuming it will :) I think it's already pretty clear that Lumon is evil, and I'd like to see an explanation for how she came to be in their torture basement that builds on existing or creates new interesting ethical questions.

[little-grey-dowitcher]

shout out to people who know there’s something wrong but can’t convince a doctor to actually look into it instead of just treating the symptoms and hoping it goes away

shout out to people who have multiple conditions that interact in unexpected ways and/or get mistaken for one condition

shout out to people who have to constantly convince doctors that just because a certain test came back normal doesn’t mean nothing’s wrong

shout out to people who don’t have access to a doctor that specializes in a field related to their condition and have to make do with whoever is available

shout out to people who got called a hypochondriac for years before finally finding a doctor who would listen and take them seriously

shout out to people who got told for so long that they were faking it for attention that they started to actually believe it despite knowing deep in their hearts something was wrong

shout out to people who are scared to speak up about health problems they’re having because of the stigma surrounding them

shout out to people who never talk about their pain and constantly mask it out of fear of being a burden to others

shout out to people who do talk about their pain and get told to just suck it up

shout out to people who have to fight their insurance companies tooth and nail every time they receive even the most basic medical procedures, and start an all-out war with those companies to get lifesaving treatments

shout out to all the people disenfranchised by the medical system. I love you all.

[letters-to-lgbt-kids]

My dear lgbt+ kids, 

Let’s talk about miscarriages. 

First of all, a simple definition: A miscarriage is when a pregnancy ends on its own before the baby can grow enough to survive outside the womb. 

When we say “miscarriage”, we refer to the pregnancy spontaneously ending in the first 20 weeks (so up until halfway through a typical 40-week pregnancy). If it happens closer to birth (after 20 weeks of pregnancy), it’s referred to as a “stillbirth”. We will focus on miscarriages rather than stillbirth in this letter.

A pregnancy spontaneously ending in an early stage is more common than it happening closer to birth. Most miscarriages happen in the first 13 weeks.

A miscarriage usually involves vaginal bleeding. It can range from light spotting to heavy bleeding. It may also include the passing of tissue or blood clots. Abdominal pain or cramps may also be present. (This is why a miscarriage that occurs before the person is even aware they’re pregnant may be confused with a heavy period). 

However, some people may only experience the lessening of pregnancy symptoms (such as a sudden stop of morning sickness) that alerts them to the miscarriage. Some miscarriages also occur without any noticeable symptoms at all and may only be discovered at the next ultrasound. 

Let’s look at some myths and facts about miscarriages: 

Myth: Miscarriages are rare. 

Fact: About 10 to 20% of all known pregnancies end in miscarriage (and the “real” number is probably even higher, since many miscarriages happen before the person even knows they are pregnant). 

Myth: Miscarriages happen because you do something wrong or aren’t careful enough. 

Fact: Most miscarriages happen because of severe problems with the unborn baby’s DNA. These are usually random genetic glitches in the egg or sperm - meaning there’s nobody to “blame”. The baby wouldn’t have survived, no matter how careful the pregnant person is. 

Myth: When we talk about “medical treatment” for a miscarriage, we are talking about people who choose to have a miscarriage. 

Fact: Nobody chooses to have a miscarriage. It’s by its very definition the spontaneous ending of a pregnancy. A person may need to undergo medically necessary treatment because of a miscarriage. It may be necessary to remove tissue that remains in the uterus. This isn’t the trigger of the miscarriage, it is done after the pregnancy already naturally ended. It is done to prevent infection or stop heavy bleeding. This procedure is called a D & C (dilation and curettage) and it can be a lifesaver!

Myth: If you had a miscarriage, it’s a sign you deep down resented the baby. 

Fact: The most wanted pregnancy ever could end in miscarriage. People who tried  for years and finally got pregnant could experience a miscarriage. People who jumped through legal hurdles and spend a lot of money to be able to undergo sperm donation or IVF could experience a miscarriage. This is just a horrible and untrue thing to say about people who experience a potentially traumatic health event that’s entirely out of their control. 

Myth: It’s easy to get over a miscarriage. 

Fact: It’s a life-changing experience. It’s always emotionally challenging. There’s the aspect of the unexpected (and potentially scary) health event, and of course there’s also the aspect of a loss, of grief. It shouldn’t be surprising that, for most people, it’s not something they can easily shrug off. There are a lot of emotions that can come up - during, right after and also months or years after. There’s no time limit on when someone will be “over it”. In fact, they may never feel “over it”, just learn to live with it as part of their reality. 

Myth: If it was an unplanned pregnancy, the person should be relieved to have a miscarriage. 

Fact: There’s no “Should” in loss. Even if they didn’t want to be pregnant, they may still grieve. Even if they do feel some relief, it may be tinged with emotional pain, frustration, feelings of helplessness or guilt… And all of that is valid. Nobody but the person who experienced the miscarriage has a right to say how they feel about it. 

Myth: If you had a miscarriage, it means you’ll never be able to have biological children. 

Fact: Nearly 90% of people who miscarry will go on to have normal pregnancies and healthy babies! 

With all my love, 

Your Tumblr Dad