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julessworldd · 4 years

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Troubled Kids Duff x fem!reader

Summary: Duff and the reader were married for awhile until their love was just late night screaming, bottles thrown as their baby slept. They got divorce and Duff moved on for what the guys and the reader thought. Warnings: mentions of alcohol, drunken fights, cussing, maybe implied smut if you look closely. Author’s note, I got my medical info off google and something I dealt with when little. NO HATE towards Linda, 92-93 Duff is who I seen in this, Izzy didn’t leave the band in my story neither did Steven, he’s not mentioned but wanted it to be said. Hope ya’ll enjoy!

I was cleaning the kitchen counter when the door swung open and Duff walked in with a smile. I threw my rag and walked over to him as he picked me up.

“Hi Baby, how’s my girl?” Duff spun around.

“Better that you’re back, I missed you. I didn’t get a kiss this morning” I fake pouted.

Duff smirked, “I kissed your forehead,but here” He kissed me taking me by surprise, making me smile

A shrill cry brought me out of that dreamland state, it was mine and Duff’s daughter, Frankie. “Mama’s coming baby!” I yelled as I ran upstairs.

Frankie’s cries stopped soon I walked in, “Hi you little hell raiser” I smiled as I picked her up. She grabbed a strand of my hair as I walked over to her changing table. She smiled at me with a gummy mouth.

Frankie is a happy girl even through me and her father fighting and ending our marriage. Speaking of him, he was suppose be on his way to get her for the week. Just hope he’s not drunk. Duff’s drinking had got worse according to Izzy, the guys were doing too many drugs to count. Izzy was clean for the most part, he’s Frankie’s Godfather so he got to see her a lot.

I got Frankie dressed and laid her on her play mat on the living room floor

The phone rang, “Hello”

“I just wanted to tell that Linda and I are on our way to get Frankie” Duff said

He sounded sober, “Okay, she’s up so you can come on then”

“Okay be there soon” Duff hung up before I could say anything.

I was folding Frankie an extra sleeper as the doorbell rung

Frankie squealed seeing Duff, I opened the door for him.

“Uh Hey” He gave a small smile before going to see Frankie

I was gonna shut the door but Linda’s smile stopped me, “Hi Y/n”

“Hey Linda” I said shutting the door for her to come in. She walked behind Duff and rubbed his back, “Hi Frankie”. Linda was a sweet girl, Frankie liked her real well. I’m happy cause I was worried when Duff brought her here to meet me before he took Franks. We get along, its not her fault her boyfriend has a two year old and custody week visits.

She turned around as Duff was blowing kisses on Frankie’s back, “Uh, I found these baby snacks at the store for Frankie. I didn’t know if she was allowed to eat those or you know” She handed me a bottle of baby puff snacks from Gerber. I took the bottle from her.

“Yeah that fine, hopefully she likes them. Hey, Duff?” I smiled

Duff turned around with Frankie in his arms he raised his eyebrows

“I just wanted to let you know, she uh had a upset stomach last night” I said. This is just weird, we shouldn’t have to tell each other this stuff. He’s not home anymore what can I do.

“Aw poor babe, I’ll keep my eye on her” Duff rubbed her belly

“Hey Duff, its almost 2″ Linda shuffled on her feet

“Oh yeah, studio” He nodded and grabbed Frankie’s bags.

He let me hold her, “Now, be a good girl for Daddy and Linda okay? I’m gonna miss you puddin, also don’t pull on Daddy’s nose ring that hurts. Guess that’s it besides that I love you baby” I kissed her cheek and hugged her as Linda stood at the door and smiled.

“What time you want her back Monday?’ Linda asked as I handed Frankie to her.

“Guess now, have Duff call me if he wants to do anything with her so I can know” I shrugged. Linda nodded, “Okay, say bye Mommy” She was smiling

“Bye precious, I love you” I smiled as she handed her to Duff at the car

Duff walked over to me and bent down to hug me, “You look like you need one” I wrapped my arm around his back and shoulders. What fresh hell is this? He still wears the cologne when I met him almost 8 years ago.

4 DAYS LATER......

Frankie was almost gonna be home soon and I can’t wait to see her

The phone rang scaring me a little

“Hello”

“Y/n! It’s Frankie! She got hurt” Duff said with panic in his voice

“What the hell happen? What ER so I can kill you?” I jumped out of bed

“Just get to UCLA, I’ll explain okay? Be careful”

I threw some jeans and an old shirt grabbed my jean jacket before heading out the door.

I could kill Duff Mckagan about now

............

“I’m not drunk, Y/n! Just quit bitching at me for fuck sake” Duff yelled dropping his beer bottle.

“You are drunk that’s why I’m yelling at you, fuck head!” I screamed

That had been our 10th fight that week, right before I came back with papers to leave him. Duff was the love of my life and he was spending his nights with another woman and it killed me.

I ran into the E.R searching for Duff and Frankie

“Can I help you?’

“Yes! My ex husband called me about our daughter, Frankie McKagan. Where is she?” I asked starting to panic more

“They running test on her, he’s down here’ The old lady showed me Frankie’s room was. I walked in and Duff was sitting with his hands on his face

“Duff, what’s going?” I rubbed his shoulder blade

“I’m so fucking sorry, she was fine a couple days ago and to-day Linda woke her up and she threw up. It had some blood in so Izzy and I brought her. Please don’t take her away from me, please” Duff cried bringing me into his arms.

“Shh, it’s okay Duff. Breathe, Frankie is okay just breathe its okay” I rubbed his dirty blonde hair.

“You’re not mad? You should be cussing me out for this, she’s a baby and I let her get sick” Duff sniffled.

I grabbed his face and held it, “Duff, you were smart and brought her here. I’m not mad at you, I thought she got hurt but she’s just sick. I’m not gonna kill you, Mckagan.” I rubbed behind his ears as he smiled.

Damn, I’ve not helped with his panic attacks in forever, and held his face while getting lost in those gorgeous green/hazel eyes. I smiled and let him have his face back. He rubbed his hand down my hip.

A nurse had Frankie in her arms and Duff jumped up

Then the doctor walked in, “I’m Doctor Bailey, your daughter is okay. Her stomach acid decided to bother today. How long she been sick?”

“You said she was sick the night before I got her” Duff looked at me

“Yeah, it was an upset stomach. I thought it was just her getting a stomach ache. Frankie had colic when she was just born.” I started freaking out

“Looks like she just had an acid reflux moment, she’s good to go home. Here’s something for her stomach. If she vomits again bring her in don’t wait.” Dr. Bailey smiled and the nurse handed me Frankie.

Frankie stirred, “Mama?”

“Yeah, baby its me. You feeling better?” I smiled rubbing her back

she yawned and went back to sleep

Duff grinned

“Told you, she was okay” I nudged his arm

He nodded, “She scared me so bad, I think I blacked out for half the ride.”

We got to the parking lot, “Uh, can I have a ride? Izzy dropped me off and had something going on”

“Yeah come on” I smiled

I got Frankie settled and climbed into the driver’s seat

“Can we talk?” Duff asked

“Sure, what’s up?” I asked turning on a road

Duff looked out the window and sucked his breathe in, “I miss you a lot. Not because Frankie got sick today, I’ve missed you since you made me sign the papers. I thought I moved on, but every time I come over to get Frankie and dropping her off, I fall in love with you all over again. I understand, if you think I’m bat shit crazy and just a drunk trying for nothing.”

I pulled up to his gate and parked the car, I looked at him: His face had got puffy and more scars on his face, nose ring sticking out, lips pink as when I met him.

“Then why did get with Linda if you still loved me? Do you realize I have been going to bed every night for almost 2 years crying my eyes outs? I know about the drugs and drinking getting worse, I fucking miss you. But you’re not the same kid I fell in love with, married, had a kid with. I miss the old you, go back to that Duff. When we were happy sick in love twenty year olds, not fussing at each other what cartoon show Frankie likes to watch during the day. You want me back then you’re getting help with your shit, I’m not raising my child around a drunk parent. My mom was a horrible drunk, Frankie is not getting that” I said

Duff just looked at me, “I knew I was blowing this in your ear and out the other. Forget what I said okay? You’re home” I threw my head back on the head rest.

“Okay, I’ll go to rehab and leave her. I can finally have what I’ve always wanted and I’m not losing that again” Duff said laying his hand on my thigh

He read that message

“Duff, you had a panic attack your mind is still fuzzy. Just bring Frankie by yourself and we’ll talk. We both need to think about what was said, I still love you, but I’m not sure about it either.” I said

“You’re letting me keep her? Even though she spent her afternoon at the ER”

“Yes, you are her father. It’s your week, she has 3 days with you.” I grabbed his hand and rubbed my thumb over his knuckle.

“Okay see you Monday. Be safe going home” Duff reached over and grabbed Frankie and her stuffed Dino, Axl got her.

“Alright, be good you two” I giggled as he shut the door and smiled at me

MONDAY AFTERNOON....

Frankie was suppose to be back anytime and I was mopping the floor. Praying it would be dry when she got here, like her father she tracks it.

There was a knock the door tearing me from my task, I opened the door to have Frankie and Duff standing. I let them in, “Don’t put her down, I mopped”

“She didn’t take her nap, can I set her in bed?” Duff asked rubbing her back and holding her Dino. I nodded and went to the cabinet I had my Tequila.

I needed that shot before Duff wanted to talk

“Hi” I looked at him as he walked down the stairs

“Hey” He wiped his hand on his jeans

“So, did you think it over?” Duff asked

“Yeah I did and I’ve came to this. You’re Frankie’s father, she loves, I love you too and need you back, but. I wasn’t kidding about the shit you need to lay off, it didn’t bother me when we’re married and didn’t have Frankie running around. Hell, I partied just as much as you and the guys, but Frankie doesn’t need that around her. So if you wanna start over much as possible, I’m all for it after you get clean. 100% clean, you’re not gonna be like my brother, Johnny,and keep going in and out. I’ll make sure you won’t see Frankie again.” I said

Duff nodded, “Okay, I’ll go to rehab and get clean for you and Frankie”

“Good but you need to get clean for yourself, Franks and I just reasons why you need to get better.” I smiled

“You’re right again, I’ve not drank in 3 days by the way”

“Good for you, I’m proud Duff” I grinned

Duff walked over to me, I was against the counter when he fully got to me

I could feel his breathe and forehead against mine, “Can I kiss you?”

I grabbed the back of his head and stood on my tippy toes and kissed him. Duff’s hands laid on my back and hips as he kissed me back. The feeling of butterflies came back like when it was happier times for us.

“I love you” Duff’s hand held my face and rubbed my cheek

“I love you too, Duff” I smiled

His eyebrows threaded together

“I never stopped” I whispered

Duff smiled..

#duff mckagan x reader #guns n roses x reader #duff mckagan imagine

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newstfionline · 4 years

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Headlines

World refugee numbers rise (Foreign Policy) A new report by the United Nations refugee agency found that the number of refugees worldwide increased by 9 million in 2019, adding to a total of roughly 80 million people. Only 107,000 refugees were resettled in third countries, with Canada receiving the most with 31,100. The United States received the second highest number with 27,500 resettled in 2019.

Migrant farmworkers die in Canada, and Mexico wants answers (Washington Post) Each summer for the past five years, Aaron has traveled from his home in Mexico to Canada as one of the tens of thousands of temporary foreign workers who seed, tend and harvest the crops that keep the country fed. This year’s journey was unique. Flights were limited. There were temperature screenings and questionnaires before he took off and after he landed. On arriving in British Columbia this month, he was checked into a hotel for a 14-day quarantine. But in this year of the coronavirus, the precautions have not kept all of Canada’s migrant farmworkers safe. At least 600 have contracted covid-19, and at least two, both Mexicans, have died. Mexico, which provides nearly half of Canada’s migrant farmworkers, has become so concerned that officials said this week they’re hitting the “pause button” on plans to send up to 5,000 more to Canada until they’re satisfied the conditions that led to the deaths will be rectified—threatening a labor crunch for Canada’s already squeezed agricultural sector. The pandemic has highlighted Canada’s dependence on the 60,000 temporary foreign workers who arrive each year from countries such as Mexico and Jamaica as part of a federal government program, and without whom hundreds of thousands of tons of blueberries, asparagus stalks and grapes would wither on the vine.

DACA lives on (NYT) When this country started hearing a decade ago about Dreamers—people who came to the United States as small children without legal permission—many of them were in their teens or early 20s. These Dreamers are now full adults, with careers and families, and many have spent years anxiously wondering whether they would be thrown out of the only country they’ve really known. Yesterday’s Supreme Court ruling, which barred President Trump from deporting the Dreamers anytime soon, came as a tremendous relief to them. “It feels amazing,” Vanessa Pumar, 31, an immigration lawyer who came from Venezuela at age 11, said. “I have been holding my breath. It feels like I can finally breathe.” Roberto G. Gonzales, a Harvard professor who has been studying DACA since it went into effect in 2012, calls it “the most successful immigration policy in recent decades.” Gonzales explains: “Within a year, DACA beneficiaries were already taking giant steps. They found new jobs. They increased their earnings. They acquired driver’s licenses. And they began to build credit through opening bank accounts and obtaining credit cards.”

AP-NORC poll: Majority of Americans support police protests (AP) Ahead of the Juneteenth holiday weekend’s demonstrations against systemic racism and police brutality, a majority of Americans say they approve of recent protests around the country. Many think they’ll bring positive change. And despite the headline-making standoffs between law enforcement and protesters in cities nationwide, the poll from The Associated Press-NORC Center for Public Affairs Research also finds a majority of Americans think law enforcement officers have generally responded to the protests appropriately. Somewhat fewer say the officers used excessive force. The findings follow weeks of peaceful protests and unrest in response to the death of George Floyd, a black man who died pleading for air on May 25 after a white Minneapolis police officer held his knee on Floyd’s neck for nearly eight minutes. A dramatic change in public opinion on race and policing has followed, with more Americans today than five years ago calling police violence a very serious problem that unequally targets black Americans.

Atlanta police call out sick over charges in fatal shooting (AP) Atlanta police officers called out sick to protest the filing of murder charges against an officer who shot a man in the back, while the interim chief acknowledged members of the force feel abandoned amid protests demanding massive changes to policing. Interim Chief Rodney Bryant told The Associated Press in an interview that the sick calls began Wednesday night and continued Thursday, but said the department had sufficient staff to protect the city. It’s not clear how many officers called out. “Some are angry. Some are fearful. Some are confused on what we do in this space. Some may feel abandoned,” Bryant said of the officers. “But we are there to assure them that we will continue to move forward and get through this.”

Beware the trampoline (NYT) Sales of outdoor equipment has surged as families try to keep their children entertained while on lockdown. But that has led to a spike in injuries from bikes, scooters, and especially trampolines. Some E.R. doctors have begun referring to trampolines as “orthopedic fracture machines.” Many injuries occur when multiple children, especially a mix of older and younger ones, are jumping on a trampoline at the same time. That’s what happened to the daughter of our colleague Adam Pasick, who broke her tibia on a trampoline on Wednesday. Stay safe out there, kids!

Missing in Mexico (Foreign Policy) Families of people thought to have gone missing amid Mexico’s drug war surrounded a motorcade carrying President Andrés Manuel López Obrador in the state of Veracruz on Monday demanding he do more to bring their loved ones home. Some 61,000 people are estimated to be missing in the country, and relatives fear that austerity measures, which could see a 75 percent budget cut to a government agency that provides funding and support to families of the disappeared, will only make matters worse. While coronavirus-related lockdowns have stalled search efforts, gang violence and disappearances have continued.

France and Turkey spar over ship incident (Foreign Policy) Tensions between France and Turkey rose after French Defense Minister Florence Parly said a Turkish ship refused to identify itself and its mission after an approach by a French vessel on a NATO mission to check on suspected weapons smuggling to Libya. Turkish sailors donned bulletproof vests and took up positions behind light weaponry during the incident, according to Parly. “This act was extremely aggressive and cannot be one of an ally facing another ally who is doing its work under NATO command,” Parly said. Turkey called France’s claims “baseless.” NATO Secretary-General Jens Stoltenberg told reporters that NATO is investigating the incident “to bring full clarity into what happened.”

Anger Surges in India Over Deadly Border Brawl With China (NYT) An Indian government minister has called for Chinese restaurants to be closed. Other Indian officials have suddenly put contracts to Chinese companies under review. And crowds of men are now smashing Chinese-made televisions in the street. A wave of anti-Chinese anger is cresting across India as the nation struggles to absorb the loss of 20 Indian soldiers beaten to death this week by Chinese troops in a high-altitude brawl along India’s disputed border with China. And the tensions are hardly easing. Sonam Joldan, a teacher in the Ladakh region near the India-China border, reported on Thursday seeing a line of 100 Indian Army trucks heading toward the front line, wending its way up the Himalayan mountains “like a caravan of ants.”

China charges Canadians with espionage (Foreign Policy) Chinese prosecutors announced today that they have charged two Canadians in Chinese detention with espionage. Michael Kovrig and Michael Spavor have been held by Chinese authorities since 2018 in what is seen as a reciprocal move by Beijing after the arrest of Meng Wanzhou, the chief financial officer of Huawei, by Canadian police. Meng is currently under house arrest in Vancouver while fighting a Canadian court battle to halt her extradition to the United States.

Singapore opens gyms, dining out as China outbreak steadies (AP) Singaporeans can wine and dine at restaurants, work out at the gym and socialize with no more than five people at a time as of Friday, when the city-state removed most of its pandemic lockdown restrictions. Getting back to business in Singapore came as China declared a fresh outbreak in Beijing under control after confirming 25 new cases among some 360,000 people tested. That was up by just four from a day earlier. Singapore’s malls, gyms, massage parlors, parks and other public facilities reopened their doors with strict social distancing and other precautions.

Palestinians fear displacement from an annexed Jordan Valley (AP) For generations, the people of Fasayil herded animals on the desert bluffs and palm-shaded lowlands of the Jordan Valley. Today, nearly every man in the Palestinian village works for Jewish settlers in the sprawling modern farms to the north and south. The grazing lands to the west and east, leading down to the banks of the biblical Jordan River, have been swallowed up by the settlements or fenced off by the Israeli military. So instead of leading sheep out to pasture, the men rise before dawn to work in the settlements for around $3 an hour—or they move away. “Everyone here works in the settlements, there’s nothing else,” said Iyad Taamra, a member of the village council who runs a small grocery store. “If you have some money you go somewhere else where there is a future.” Palestinians fear communities across the Jordan Valley will meet a similar fate if Israel proceeds with its plans to annex the territory, which accounts for around a quarter of the occupied West Bank and was once seen as the breadbasket of a future Palestinian state. Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu has vowed to annex the valley and all of Israel’s far-flung West Bank settlements, in line with President Donald Trump’s Middle East plan, which overwhelmingly favors Israel and has been rejected by the Palestinians. The process could begin as soon as July 1.

Saudi Arabia’s crown prince uses travel restrictions to consolidate power (Washington Post) The formal term in Arabic is mana’a al-safar, or “travel bans.” But the practical effect of Saudi Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman’s policy of restricting journeys abroad by what appear to be thousands of Saudis is to intimidate those he regards as political threats. “This is hostage-taking as a tool of governing,” argued Khalid Aljabri, a Saudi cardiologist who lives in Toronto. Two of his younger siblings, Omar and Sarah, now both in their early 20s, were banned from travel in June 2017 shortly after MBS, as he’s known, became crown prince. MBS wanted leverage against their father, a former Saudi intelligence official named Saad Aljabri, hoping to force him home to face corruption allegations that Khalid says are false. An investigation shows that this practice of restricting foreign travel is much broader than generally recognized and is part of a larger system of organized repression in the kingdom. MBS has used these tools to consolidate power as he moves toward what some U.S. officials believe may be an attempt, perhaps this year, to seize the full powers of government from his ailing father, King Salman. The total number of Saudis who are subject to travel restrictions, according to Saudi and U.S. analysts, probably runs into the thousands. Those who are banned don’t usually know about their status until they go to the airport or try to cross a border post, where they’re stopped and told that exit is forbidden on order of the state security organization, which operates through the royal court. No formal, written explanation is typically given.

Zimbabwe on the brink (Foreign Policy) Three female opposition activists in Zimbabwe have been forced to remain in prison following a bail hearing on Monday as they face charges of fabricating allegations of being abducted, tortured, and humiliated by police. The charges against the women are widely thought to be politically motivated, while the U.N. called on the authorities to “urgently prosecute and punish the perpetrators of this outrageous crime.” The case against the women, one of whom, Joana Mamombe, is a member of Parliament, comes at a tense time in the country as inflation has risen to 785 percent. The price of bread and sugar has surged by 30 percent over the past week, evoking memories of the hyperinflation seen in 2008 that rendered the country’s currency worthless. Economic crisis and rising public anger have led to mounting speculation that a coup could be in the works. The national security council of Zimbabwe dismissed the rumors in a press conference last week, saying they were being fueled by allies of the late Zimbabwean leader Robert Mugabe.

#headlines #news

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personalitynexus · 5 years

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Finger Update 2K19

So, as you all remember, I shattered the tip of my middle finger in my non-dominant hand last week and have had to have it splinted to protect the tendon while the bone heals. Don’t worry, there will not be any pictures, although the language (while vague) does get semi-descriptive from here on, so read at own risk. And I will be tagging any and all posts about my finger from now on with Medical Nonsense {Tag} for those that wish to block or ignore it.

Well, turns out there was a slight infection in the finger when the break occurred, which caused some localized inflammation in the surrounding tissue and the usual discoloration associated with a break (redness and bruising with some mild to excessive heat build-up for those playing the home edition).

We learned all of this the hard way when the pain skyrocketed from a solid 3 to about a 7.5 out of 10 yesterday and proceeded to burst (ooze and weep and the like) in my sleep sometime early this morning. I would say last night, but seeing as I was wide awake until 2330 hours last night, the odds of that being the case are slim.

So I sat in my clinic waiting room where my doctor is located for a good hour and a half without an appointment before my doctors main nurse saw me, took one look at my finger, and immediately chewed the front desk out for not slapping a priority label on what is clearly an emergency and creating an appointment for someone who is obviously not jonsing for pills (a big problem in our city thanks to the last doctor that actually got run out of town only to be arrested by the Texas Rangers).

So now I’m back at the office, pain back down from 7.5 to a manageable 3, and on three different anti-biotics with a follow up on Monday to see what needs to be done in regards to the finger. I’ll more than likely lose the nail, which I can live with, but worst case scenario is I lose the finger... To which my mother is already threatening law suits over the clinic for since the front desk was adamant that there were 0 openings for me today (surprise, there were openings and the front desk never bothered to check with the doctor or her nurses about it).

But Salem, why not just go to the ER or an urgent care?

Good question. Answer?

The E.R. here is a joke and full of dumbasses that will either misdiagnose you, never fully disclose your diagnosis to you, or flat out charge you for services that you never received (all of which happened to me, my mother, and my S.O. the last time any of us went in).

And Urgent Cares, while convenient, are out of my network, meaning I’d be paying out the nose to see a doctor that has no knowledge of my medical history, how my finger came to be broken, and may need to have me wait for just as long as I did at my usual doctors office for potentially the same or lesser antibiotics.

The kicker is, I tried to play everything by the book yesterday. I called, tried to make appointments through the front desk (which never returned my call and told me today about there being zero openings and told my S.O. that the doc wouldn’t see them without insurance {another lie and another story}) and through the doctors direct line. Played phone tag with the direct line for the doctor all day yesterday trying to schedule an appointment and never got through to talking to an actual person.

So yeah... I’ll post an update Monday when I finish at the doctors office, but in the mean time I’m still trying to re-learn one handed typing to try and not go on hiatus until the finger heals.

#Evil Laughter Ensues {OOC}#Medical Nonsense {Tag}

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dear-tristan-and-veronica · 5 years

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Opening Post

(Caution: This is not a highlight reel blog. In other words, posts may contain awful things that are happening to me right now. If you want puppies and kittens you won’t hurt my feelings if you leave now).

Dear Tristan and Veronica,

I just jumped through a lot of hoops to start a new blog here even though I’m still angry at Tumblr’s censorship policies. I’m just too tired from real life issues to look for a better place to park my thoughts.

Today was epically bad. Today my significant other of 20 years asked me to go buy a thermometer because he was so sick after his second day of radiation yesterday. If his temperature gets too high he has to go to the nearest emergency room. Then I had to scrap my schedule to keep an eye on him in case he needed to go to the E.R. Then mid afternoon he asked me to drive him to his 3rd radiation appointment in 3 days because he was too sick to drive himself there. So of course I drove him there. Then he kept dozing off and having nightmares. Things like thinking I was about to drive over a cliff, or there was a boulder in the road and I was about to hit it, or some accident happened right in front of us and I couldn’t stop in time. Then he’d wake up. So after radiation I drove him straight home.

When he got home there was an email telling him his father was in a coma and probably wouldn’t live much longer. And since his father lives in another state there is no way we can go there. The timing sucks in the worst possible way.

I’m so thankful that it is Friday so he won’t have his next appointment until Monday. I’ll have to stay close to home just in case. I just hope he can eat tomorrow. The doctors said he’d lose fifty pounds and they aren’t kidding.

#cancer #coma #badnews #illness #caregiver

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atlas-of-a-human-soul · 7 years

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T&L part 5: His secret

Warnings: blood? violence?

Word count: 2510

Part six

And above all, watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places. Those who do not believe in magic will never find it. - Roald Dahl

Arya’s POV

I woke up sweating profusely, heart pounding, gasping for air and looking around trying to find something to anchor me to my waking state. I had that dream again. It wasn’t exactly the same, some things changed. For instance I could see the furry creature a little bit better. It was huge, almost like a bear, but bears can’t move that fast and definitely aren’t as agile. Maybe it was a gigantic wolf or something considering the howl I heard in the dream. This time that howl wasn’t distant and it wasn’t a lone wolf. There was a chorus of „singing“ filling the air around me even before I came to see those dreaded red eyes. This time I tried taking a different path while I was running, but no matter which path I took, the end result was still the same.

Looking at the clock I could tell it was time to get up and go to work. That’s right, Monday was finally here and I was the new part time resident in Forks Trauma center. I got ready and grabbed a muffin Emily left for me on the kitchen table with a good luck note before quietly exiting the house so I wouldn’t wake anyone up.

Driving my teal peugeot or ‘Seal’ as I liked to address him (yes, I’m one of those people) to work I could clear my mind. It was a rainy day and the roads were rather slippery with a thick foggy cover so I counted on at least one big trauma today.

„Good morning Dr. Cullen“ I said politely.

„Morning Dr. Johnson. Since the E.R. is deserted currently, we can do our morning rounds on the trauma floor. And if there are no incoming traumas by then I’ll show you to the cafeteria for breakfast.“

I nod and walk beside the incredibly handsome doctor. During rounds he introduced me to patients and asked me a few questions to keep me on my toes, and we agreed on new tests for some of those patients as well as a new course of therapy for another select few. After rounds we went to grab some breakfast, well I did, Carlisle said he wasn’t hungry, so while I ate he talked to me about the usual number of cases per day and told me about a few most frequent injuries based on different times of the year. Even tho’ he made sure I knew that this was a small town and nothing too big ever really happened around here, I just knew things would pick up soon. It was like a sixth sense, and don’t get me wrong I’d never want anyone to get hurt just so I could have something to do, but if they did get injured I wanted to be there to fix them. They say all doctors are in a way adrenaline junkies and I agree. The rush you get when a patient comes in screaming bloody murder while looking like there was an actual freaking murder is exhilarating.

However it seemed as if my sixth sense was a bit off today, and by 2 pm there were only three cases: a cut that needed stitches, a broken toe and a sprained ankle. I was driving home when all of a sudden my pager went off. I sped back to the hospital only to find a full E.R.

„Dr. Johnson! Over here.“ A nurse spotted me. „ There was a big car crash just outside Forks, they brought about 7 people so far, but there are 5 more coming our way. Bed 1 and 3 are in the worst shape, till Dr. Cullen comes you’re in charge of them.“

I went straight for the 1st bed and from the looks of it there was a huge head laceration on this guy, his leg had an open fracture of the femur and after a quick physical I could tell his abdomen was distended which meant internal bleeding. After a quick ultrasound I noticed a ruptured spleen and I ordered a head CT to rule out any brain bleeds and I notified Carlisle that we will have to operate on the man soon. I wasn’t permitted any unsupervised surgeries for a few more years so I waited for him to come for as long as I could. While an intern took that patient up to the CT, I tended to the patient in bed three. It was a man with a developing tension pneumothorax. After I put in a chest tube and relieved the tension he was no longer in any immediate danger so I just paged an attending to take over.

Carlisle met me in the OR and we spent the whole day inside. Turns out there was a brain bleed and I got to watch a neurosurgeon do a craniotomy, also I assisted in a splenectomy and in the repair of the open femur fracture. There was a complication while the other resident was resetting the bone where he managed to rip the femoral artery, but thankfully we managed to stop the bleed and fix it.

By the time I got out of the OR it was already 10 pm. Grabbing a cup of coffee with Carlisle we rested up and decided to work the night shift too and that way we could oversee the patient since most deaths occur during night.

After such a long night, I was back on the road home at dawn. Rain stopped but the fog seemed even thicker. A vast blanket of white hung heavy over the hills suffocating and swallowing every distant object and vanishing around every corner, covering the trees and the road ahead. This enveloping whiteness hurt my eyes as I could barely see where I was going. Finally recognizing the road to my brothers home I drove slowly so I wouldn’t accidentally drive straight into the house.

„Just a little bit longer and I can finally crawl back into my warm bed and just sleep this foggy morning away. Just a“, suddenly I heard a loud thump on Seal’s hood. My heart was racing..did I just hit someone?! No, no, no, no, no, no!

Jumping out of the car as fast as I could I stopped when I saw a tall figure getting off the wet ground. The man was shaking and growling, but I could barely see him through all the fog. I just started my usual nervous rambling:

„Oh my God, I am so sorry, I didn’t see you this damn fog made me almost blind. Are you hurt? I’m a doctor I could take a look at your injuries if you are?“

But the man didn’t turn around, instead he kicked Seal, thumped at the hood with his fists and started screaming at me, his words spat out with the ferocity and rapidity of machine gunfire in a voice that was barely more human than a growl.

„You idiot! You could have killed me! Who the hell gave you a license?!“ His voice boomed as he hit Seal once again breaking the headlights.

I knew I should just stay quiet and wait for the storm to abate since it really was my fault, but I couldn’t help sparring with him. I know that when tension is high I should inject love instead of anger, give him an olive branch instead of enmity, but sometimes it just isn’t that easy, because as he hit Seal over and over again destroying one of the side mirrors in his rage, I got this urge to smack him down. So I walked up to him and slapped him with my open right hand full across the face with as much force as I could muster. It rocked him and he took a step back and that’s when I knew I’d pushed him harder than was wise. For every pound I weighed he weight three and it was all solid muscle. I couldn’t even make myself look at his face because all of a sudden his body was shaking violently while his breathing was labored and moments later he jumped back and I could hear a loud crunching sound with a growl. The fog surrounding us cleared as the growl grew louder and before me stood a huge wolf with dark silver fur with his teeth bared and a stance that told me he was ready to pounce.

As fear took over my body I was frozen to the spot. Did it eat the man I was just with or did he somehow turn into this wolf? That’s not possible, right? It can’t be! I can feel the sweat drench my skin as my fingers are curled into a fist, nails digging into my palm. I can’t hear my rapid breathing, but I can feel the oxygen flooding in and out of my lungs. Hesitantly, my eyes meet his. I could feel my heart beat… every single pound in my chest. I could not move, I could not even breathe. I took breathing for granted until he stole the air from my lungs. Then it came in short and shallow bursts.

As my eyes were glued to these dark chocolate brown eyes, my brain was racing. I knew him. I saw him before. That creature in my dreams….I suspected it could be a wolf, but looking at the one standing right in front of me I was sure I dreamed of him. I could see his stance change as he made eye contact as well. He wasn’t angry or shaking anymore, he was docile. Growling stopped and it seemed as if he was in some sort of a trance, with his tongue slightly protruding out of his snout. The wind gently brushed my hair and grazed my face, almost soothingly. This is what I needed though, some adventure. Even with the risk and danger my brain warned me off, my feet were already moving towards the majestic beast. I slowly reached out a hand for him to sniff and he nuzzled into my palm with a small whimper. I couldn’t fight the small smile playing on my lips as I reached out again with my other hand to caress his thick fur, gently running my hand up on his head to scratch that spot behind his ears. His head cocked to the side, his eyes shifting to look at something behind me.

„Arya! What the hell happened?!“ Sam runs up to me and soon spots the wolf next to me. He looks to the wolf with surprise and then frowns as if he knew something I didn’t.

„I am standing next to a horse-sized wolf and you’re not freaking out! As crazy as it seems I think this wolf is a man I hit with my car about five minutes ago.“ I bluntly stated with a blank expression on my face.

„ I hit a man with my car, and then slapped him and he turned into a gigantic silver wolf, the same wolf from those dreams I have and you are not freaking out! Why are you not running, screaming? Why are you acting like this isn’t a freaky magical werewolf thing?“ I yelled while gesturing to the wolf.

He just looks at me opening his mouth a few times to say something, but closing it soon after without a word. His eyes dart behind me and the wolf.

The wolf whips around as well and I follow their gaze only to see two more wolves heading straight towards us. The silver giant steps in front of me in a defensive stance as Sam grabs me and pulls me behind him telling me to back up.

The big russet wolf jumps at the silver one, snapping his teeth near his head managing to throw him to the ground. But the silver one springs back up fast and snarls at the other one. All of a sudden Sam burst up and shifts into a black wolf faster then my eyes could register. Soon they all move towards the forest, teeth snapping and rolling. As they disappear a realization hits me. That’s his secret. That’s the complication he has yet to explain to me. Were all his friends wolves? Was this genetic? Was I going to turn into a gigantic fur ball?

All the thoughts are accelerating inside my head and I want them to slow down so I can breathe but they won’t. My breaths come in gasps and I feel like I’m blacking out. My heart is hammering inside my chest like it belongs to a scared animal running for its life. The world spins and I squat on the floor, trying to make everything slow down to something my brain and body can cope with. I feel so sick. I want to scream for help, but no words come out. I fall to the floor my head between my knees as I rock back and forth trying to make it all stop. I feel someone hugging me tight but I can’t even register what is happening. Think….think….breath.. I look up to see Emily saying something to me, but I can barely hear her from the ringing in my head.

„Emily, I can’t , gasp, I can’t brea….Sam…wolf..I can’t. How, how, how..“

I closed my eyes, trying to focus on something, anything, just to find one thing to anchor me to this world, but all I can think of it that wolf. Is he okay? Why did the russet one attack him? No! Focus! Focus on the way his fur felt against my skin. Focus on his eyes! His eyes stained with the color of hot chocolate on a cold, winter night that engulfs you in its warmth and makes you feel right at home, seizing the depth and heaviness of a thousand untold stories. When I was brave enough to meet them a shiver of golden light racing down my spine, his gaze reminding me of cool waters on flames, the sky lightening after a storm. Those eyes, that wolf, the man underneath…he was my anchor.

Finally breaking out of the fog surrounding my brain I looked to Emily.

„You guys have a lot of explaining to do.“

She nodded. „When they come back, we’ll tell you everything. Come, let’s go home, you should rest up. It will take them a while to cool down.“

We got into 'Seal’ and drove to the house that was already visible on the horizon in utter silence.

When we came in, I collapsed on the couch to make sure I hear when Sam returns, because no matter how tired I was, I had questions. And this time, he was going to answer them. All of them.

#twilight #twilight fanfiction #carlisle cullen #sam uley #emily young #hospital #car accident #surgery #silver wolf #werewolf #werewolf pack #wolfpack #fog #foggymorning #panic attack #paul lahote #imprint #paul lahote x reader

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jamesniall · 6 years

Note

Hey I’m not the anon that u talked about but I follow u on twitter and wanna let u know that don’t worry!!!! That happened to me a few days ago too djdnxjsn. Are you posting today?

ahhh HI OMG thank u for understanding :’)

IT WAS SO FRUSTRATING bc i got it all written but there’s lil things to edit and words to change a bit but it was basically done and then the power went out and refused to come back for 7 hours :/

as soon as it came back i got to it but im sleeeeepy and i have a family thing tomorrow morning (basically today wow it’s 4 am) so i can’t post it until the afternoon :( BUT YES TODAY IT’LL BE POSTED FINALLY. NOTHING WILL STOP ME FROM POSTING IT TODAY.

if u want, and for the other super patient and lovely anon as well, here’s a lil preview of it; the first out of the 5 + 1 things of this fic!

(as i said, it still needs to be proof read again so if u find mistakes pls pretend u didnt, im gonna get to them tomorrow sdkfhds but yeah there u have 1,5k of this monster of a fic that took over 2 months of my life lmao what started as a lil hurt/comfort fic ended up in a 18k monster of developing relationship hurt/comfort and angst with a cHEESY ending wow)

Having the night shift at the E.R onFriday nights it’s always a chore. Harry always tries his best to change itwith one of his colleagues, even if he has to take Monday’s morning shift whereeveryone comes with the silliest symptoms to get some excuse to get out oftheir jobs for a couple days.

This time, however, Liam has a familything he can’t get out of and Harry has to cover the night shift.

It goes as he expected it.

Drunk college students with alcoholpoisoning are the most common gig of the night, followed by guys withconcussions and broken noses that can only be attributed to bar fights.

It’s around 10 pm when he’s making a roundthrough the new arrivals when he sees a guy sitting in the waiting room withwhat seems to be a scarf wrapped around his left arm and a guitar tightlyclutched in his right hand.

He looks downright miserable. Soaked tothe bone – though Harry doesn’t recall it raining when he started his shift –hair plastered to his forehead and a bruise in his right cheek that he can tellit’s gonna swell and hurt as fuck tomorrow morning.

He takes a look around the room andfigures he’s the most interesting case he can get out of the night.

“Hello there, I’m Doctor Styles. Did thenurse give you the triage paper?” He asks, looking down at the brown hairedguy, who startles at his voice.

“Oh, hi, yes, uh,” he searches around hispockets for a bit, hissing when he disturbs his homemade bandage, Harry doesn’tknow if he’s hiding a broken, burnt or cut arm, but he’s sure the scarf it’snot wrapped up properly for none of those situations.

He finally finds a yellow crumbled uppaper in the pocket of his jeans, “thought the red papers got attention first.”He says, looking up to Harry and handing him the paper.

“Yeah, Friday nights are usually full ofyellow ones, though.” Harry says, scanning the paper quickly and seeing Niall J. Horan, 25 year old male, reportedbar fight, probable broken wrist, no signs of concussion, vitals on order, pain8/10. “How’s your pain right now?”

“Out of ten? It’s been simmering between 8and 9 for the last hour,” Niall replies with a shrug. “Nurse told me x-rayswere necessary but that I’d have to leave my guitar outside,” he continues, “Irefused, because have you seen the people around this place? They’re all drunk.No way I’m leaving it out here only to find it broken, so if you can tell mewhat to do or what to take for the pain I’d appreciate it so I can go home.”

“You could have a broken wrist, judging bythe pain I’m pretty sure that’s the case, isn’t getting the x-ray moreimportant than a guitar?” Harry asks, an amused smile making his way through asNiall splutters and shakes his head.

“’Course it’s more important, she’s one ofa kind. Actually my arm might be broken because I fell out of the stage toprotect her.” He states. A stubborn frown taking over his face.

“Alright,” Harry nods, “You can leave itin my office while we do x-rays and get you proper treatment. That way both ofyou will be safe.”

“Really?” Niall asks, “Hey, thank youmate! I hope it’s not a bother.”

“None at all, just follow me and we’ll getit done quick enough.”

Half an hour later Niall’s sitting in astretcher as Harry wraps up his broken wrist properly. His guitar restingbeside him. “I cannot help but ask, what did you mean you fell out of a stageto save your guitar?”

“Oh,” he laughs, “well, you see, I play inthis bar on Friday nights, to help a bit with the bills, you know? Being ajust-graduated-nutritionist doesn’t give you much, so I was there, justchilling, getting ready to finish the set, when a bunch of assholes startedfighting, throwing punches and chairs and tables went flying. My guitar was inthe direct line of fire.” He says, pausing a bit to swallow harshly as Harrymoves his arm to check the blood flow is alright and the bandages are justtight enough. “So I try to yell at ‘em to be careful but just as I was about toreach the guitar and leave a guy was pushed over, I can only guess he was deaddrunk, because he didn’t even try to slow down the fall, and I could only seehis ass was for sure gonna land on my guitar, so I jumped head first to grab itand he fell on me, I fell on the corner of the stage, thus the bruising.”

“Is that why you told the nurse the reasonof all this was a bar fight?”

“Well, technically it all started with abar fight, but as I was about to explain it all she just went and rolled hiseyes and gave me a yellow paper.” Niall says, a sour look on his face, “realrude of her, you know.”

“Yeah, you’ll have to forgive her,” Harrysays with a small smile, “we don’t get much of anything other than bar fightson Friday nights.” He continues, handing Niall a sheet of paper with hisprescribed pain medication.

“Do I have to come for you to take a lookat it again? Like, remove the bandage or something?” Niall asks, looking a bitforlornly at the piece of paper.

“Oh, yeah but not here, exactly. You cancall this number,” he says, handing Niall a small card that just says Liam Payne and two phone numbers. “He’sthe best orthopedist you’ll ever find in this hospital. He’ll do an x-ray,check everything’s alright and in about 4 weeks you’ll be bandages free.” Hefinishes, smiling despite the fact that Niall looks kind of sad. Disappointedeven. “He really is the best, you’ve got nothing to be scared of, he’ll takegood care of you.”

“Not as good as you,” Niall mutters underhis breath as Harry turns his back on him to open the curtain that wasseparating them from the rest of the E.R.

“What was that?” Harry asks.

“Oh, nothing, just. Thinking out loudabout whether I should try to find a bus or just walk home.”

“I can call you a cab if you’d like.”Harry offers. Helping Niall gather his guitar, papers and card without losinganything.

“No, that’s alright. I left my jacket atthe bar so I have no change with me, just my very loyal Oyster card and twowell-functioning legs.”

“It’s really late, Niall, really. I canlend you some, it’s no trouble.” Harry says, searching in his pockets for hiswallet, “I’d be no good of me as a doctor if I fix you up only to let you walkhome at two in the morning. Cab is the safest option.”

“Also the most expensive,” Niall remarks,“we’re in an alright neighborhood and I live like half an hour from here, it’llbe alright.” Then, with a bit more of spark in his eyes, he says; “If you wantyou can give me your number and I can text you as soon as I get home.”

Harry seemed too busy looking into hiswallet to notice, though, “Here, just a couple of bucks. Just in case youdecide your house’s too far and you’re too tired or cold to keep walking.” Hesays, handing Niall a couple of folded bills. “Or in case you have nothing inyour Oyster card. Can’t never be too safe.”

He’s just finished talking when a beepcomes from his pocket. Eyes opening wide when he sees a red alert from hispager.

“Well, look at that. You can have a couplered cases on Friday nights too.” Harry says, shaking his head, “Have a niceevening. Don’t forget to pick up your meds tomorrow morning. What I just gaveyou we’ll be enough for the night but it might get really achey if you movearound a lot.” Harry says, walking fast towards the nurses’ station. “No guitarplaying, for at least a week, let you hand heal nicely. If there’s moreswelling, your fingers get really cold, dark or you can’t feel them or there’sany fever at all, please come back to the E.R immediately.” Harry says in arush as he checks the new triage papers. “Any questions?”

“Thank you.” Says Niall. “Really, you werethe nicest doctor I’ve ever met and I promise when I come back for that check-upI’ll hunt you down and pay you back.”

“No need,” Harry replies with a smile,“I’ve got to run. Have a safe trip home!”

And with that he leaves, back towards theentrance of the E.R where an ambulance is pulling in someone in a really bloodystretcher.

With a shudder, Niall turns to leave, notbefore looking back at Harry for the last time and saying to himself, “nexttime I’ll get his number.”

#IM A MESS #Anonymous #idk how this ended up being almost 20k words #but proof reading it has been A MESS #bc there are words that i type in spanish to translate them later and then when i do they dont FIT RIGHT in the sentence #so i have to rewrite the sentence and then that one doesnt FIT RIGHT with the next one #and yeah i basically rewrote a whole scene #it's been 5 hours since the power came back and im halfway through editing it and making it alright #but it's almost 5am now #and i have to be up by 9 for a family thingy #so i'll have to finish tomorrow :(#IM SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT #i considered posting it like...chapter-y #like posting the first 3 chapters that are sort of done and then tomorrow the rest #but i hate chaptered fics skdjfhsdkf #I'LL POST IT TOMORROW (today) AS SOON AS I CAN #I PROMISE #I LOVE U ALL #THANK U FOR BEING SO LOVELY AND SWEET AND PATIENT #i hated how the first scene of the fic turned out so i hope you're not disappointed #i think the rest it's alright and i actually loved writing it #but yeah

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drarrygirl27 · 3 years

Text

INCIDENT AT WORK ON MONDAY

Ok... So maybe some of you are wondering where I have been lately so I am going to tell you. I had a quick and semi-painful fall while at work on late Monday afternoon. I thought nothing of it after inspecting myself in the bathroom immediately after I got back up. I saw no cuts, no bleeding, and nothing felt too terribly bad so being the ignorant stubborn as hell ass that I am, I just continued working and I didn't even think anything of it through out the whole time I was working.

Fast forward to when Doug and I got back to our apartment early Tuesday morning, I started feeling this aching feeling in my right arm, but it isn't like the I did too much while on the job kind of ache, it was way more painful than that, but felt kind of numbish at the same time. When I took my work smock and most of my clothes off to start relaxing before going to bed, Doug noticed a bruise on my right hip and swelling on the part of my chest close to my right arm.

He then asks me, "What happened to you Baby?"

At first I am really confused and am just like "Huh? What are you talking about D?" He asks me if I knew that I had a dark bruise on my right hip and he then told me that the part of my chest close to my right arm was swelled up pretty bad.

I was like, "What?!"

After I go check it out in the bathroom mirror, he asks me "How did you get so banged up?"

It was then that I remembered and so I told him, "Oh... Now I remember D. I fell at work last night."

He then scolded me a little by telling me that I really should have told Alex (He is acting as Custodial Lead until the actual Custodial Lead comes back.) because then I could have gone to the E.R. so they could check me out just to be safe. I told him that I just simply didn't think that it was this bad. At least, not at the beginning of it. I also tell him that for now on even if it doesn't hurt all that bad, I'll notify the Lead Custodian immediately when I get hurt. I just simply forgot this time was all and since nothing felt all that bad or looked too bad, I just didn't see why I should have said anything at all. However, I have learned my lesson on that now most definitely.

Doug nods at that and says, "Good girl."

For the rest of that time until we went to bed, Doug gets things for me just to be on the safe side because of how much my arm was hurting.

Fast Forward to him dropping me off at work. It was there that I started to really feel exactly what happened in my fall because it wasn't just the part of my chest close to my right arm that was hurting really bad. Now it was my right knee and my left wrist too. Anyway, I sit my stuff down so I can find and fill in an incident report. Alex and my fellow Custodial workers ask me what I am doing. I then explain it all to them including a reenactment on how I fell which they laughed at it because I added an Ahhhhhh!!! to it for emphasis and maybe a little bit of dramatization even though I barely got a sound out of me because of how damn quick I actually fell. They then tell me that I should call Gracie (Custodial Supervisor) about what happened so I follow the right protocol. Well... It turns out the right protocol was to go to the office to fill in the report with her so I can also have the right paperwork for the clinic and the pharmacy. I decided that since the real damage to my person didn't show up until hours after my fall that it would be best to just go ahead and get myself checked out just to be on the safe side of things.

After having some people look me over including the doctor and some x-rays done, it is discovered that thankfully I didn't break or fracture anything. I sustained a contusion on my right chest wall and my right knee and there was nothing wrong with my left wrist.

From what I have gathered on what happened to me while I was dust mopping 2nd Grade Hallway, I slipped on a puddle of water with my left foot and when I did that my left foot went forward while my right foot went backward and I landed on my right knee and my right arm mostly which is why they hurt the most. I put more of my force on my right when I fell on that hard ass floor than my left which is why my left wrist didn't hurt nearly as much as my other injured parts mentioned did.

Another kicker which was kind of funny, but not was the fact that I could get Worker's Comp for the doctor office visit because of the handy dandy form I was given by one of my Custodial Supervisors, but that I couldn't get it for my prescriptions because the doctor forgot to write down Worker's Comp on the paper when they sent it over to the pharmacy so I was given 2 choices, 1. Pay about $17 and some cents out of pocket or 2. Go back to the clinic to have them send in the same prescription, but with Worker's Comp written on it. I go out to the car and tell Doug what happened and he tells me to just go ahead and pay it since the money is in our account now because it is getting late and he didn't want to lose more time to work tonight and not to mention, we just don't have the gas for it either. After he said that I go in to pay for my prescriptions and the pharmacist apologizes about it, but to just make that I keep the receipt so I can get compensated from my work.

Another kicker following the other kicker, it isn't until Doug and I left the pharmacy while in the McDonald's drive thru that for some reason or other, they gave me both the prescription bottles, but one of them was completely empty. I tell Doug this and he says to just not worry about it and that we will just take care of it tomorrow morning on the way to dropping me off at work.

When I tell the older gentleman pharmacist the next morning about them forgetting to put in pills in one of my prescription bottles yesterday, he immediately feels bad about it, but he especially feels it when he sees what prescription was missed. He looked me dead in my eyes with shame and such, saying "Oh my Gosh! I am so sorry. Oh you poor thing." The pills that weren't filled were the muscle relaxers. I just tell him that it is ok. It just happens sometimes.

Of course, I'm not told anything about what I am supposed to actually do or anything of the sort until Tuesday morning itself which was when I was put on light duty which to my superiors apparently that means acting as a receptionist at their main office building. It is pretty interesting. The staff make it especially interesting, but it is also a bit boring because other than a 30 minute lunch & 2 15 minute breaks, nothing really happens there. The visitor flow isn't very much. There are spurts here and there, but mostly I was just sitting down in a chair doodling on some paper, putting a make shift ice pack (a storage gallon zip lock bag from the apartment that I just so happen to conviently use to hold some stuff in my lunch bag just in case something leaks or whatever.) on my right knee for the first 48 hours for 20 minutes after 3 hours of work throughout the 8 am-4:30 pm work shift, dozing, and struggling not to dose off.

Oh and by the way, I told my work place about what happened at the pharmacy. I talked to one of the claim adjusters as they are called and he told me that I will have that money that I paid to get my medications that day back as soon as possible in my pocket.

Ooo... Goodness this was a lot to write! Oh and another thing, I have a follow up at the clinic tomorrow at 9 am to see how things are coming along in my recovery. It still hurts quite a bit and I noticed a twinge of pain my right hip right after coming out of the pharmacy the first time I went in so we'll just have to see what the doctor tells me. Depending upon what she tells me will have my Custodial Supervisors deciding on whether or not I can go back to my campus to at least help with the cleaning a little bit.

Not going to lie, I kind of dread going back to cleaning. It is so fucking awful! I am hoping & praying that the school principal at the school I work at as a Custodian will give me a chance. I sent an email to her explaining who I am and that I applied for the Teacher's Aide position yesterday I believe. I think it was yesterday night to be more specific about it.

However, if I do go back to my campus next week then I'll have a chance to ask her about it face to face. I would much rather help teachers out with things and spend some time with the kids than to essentially clean up after them, other staff members, and and this is the part that pisses me off a lot, maintenance & construction people too. That part of it gets especially annoying. Oh and another good thing about the Teacher's Aide position is the fact that it pays a little more than a dollar than what I am getting paid now which is another reason why it would make such a big difference to Doug and I both.

Ok... I think that about covers everything that has happened since I last posted about something. I'm going to leave it here before it becomes an even longer novel. LOL! 😆

#a pretty long post #incident that happened to me at work #i apologize at not saying anything sooner #i have a cold also while going through this #i have been literally passing out from exhaustion & illness #about each time Doug brings me to the Custodial lounge at his school #i practically immediately just fall asleep & snooze for hours on the table #me a good bit stressed out #& exhausted kitten #😫😴🐈

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alimcgowanblog · 4 years

Text

The Worst Experience

February 2, 2019 was the beginning of the worst experience of my life. I remember every single thing about that day (thinking it would be like any other). It completely altered my little world.

The past couple weeks Shane hadn’t felt well. He sometimes had bloody noses or woke up with dry blood around his mouth. I assumed he was adjusting to the altitude after returning home from his Afghanistan deployment 3 months prior. This particular morning however, he saw a bunch of black dots. This time we decided he needed to go to the E.R. Naïve me again, I assumed he was simply dehydrated and needed fluids from being sick. I held his hand, walked him in, and helped check him in. I explained to the nurse these recent mild symptoms he’s had. Once I said them, the nurse immediately stopped writing and looked at me concerned. At first, I didn’t think anything of it, but now I know she knew. She totally knew.

I kissed Shane goodbye and expected to pick him back up in a hour or two. It was laundry day, so I wanted to get a jumpstart on it in an empty house. I was folding laundry on the couch watching Jimmy Kimmel when I realized it was taking Shane longer than expected. The E.R. is always overly crowded however, so again, not jumping to any conclusions. He then called. He said that I needed to get to the hospital ASAP and the doctor needed to talk to us both. There, my heart skipped a bit. There, I had doubts developing. I grabbed my keys and raced over.

He was in a dark room resting. The doctor must’ve seen me because he came in directly behind. He had me take a seat and sat down as well. He then calmly said to both of us, “I know you’re both worried, but I’m unfortunately going to make you more worried right now. Shane has Leukemia. His white blood cell count is 40 x the amount it should be. We need to transport him by ambulance [because he is a fall risk] to one of the best cancer hospitals nationwide - Anschutz in Aurora, CO.” Shane and I were both in denial. Shane asked, “Is it possible that it’s just an infection?”. The doctor responded, “Absolutely not. It is cancer and you need to inform your family immediately. Ali, you need to get your things in order. Pack a bag and meet him there in Aurora.” I watched Shane be taken away on a stretcher while reminding me of what not to forget to pack, and where to drop Prince (our dog) off. I watched him drive away with the sirens blaring knowing my whole world changed.

I couldn’t even call my mom. I didn’t know how to tell her. So, I texted her. I then pulled over to vomit. I finally got home to a couch full of folded laundry thinking this was my only priority today. I threw random clothes into two bags (not realizing we were going to be staying there for almost 2 months). I drove to this huge, unknown area that’s all hospitals - Anschutz, Children’s Hospital, and the UCHEALTH University. I was so backwards and in a daze. I went to all three buildings desperately trying to find him. It felt as though he was kidnapped and I was tracking down his captor. It was an honest nightmare of pure panic that I couldn’t wake up from.

Eventually, I did find him. and All I wanted to do was hug him, but I couldn’t because of all the wires and machines connected to him. To this day, that beeping sound haunts me. That is where he was officially diagnosed with Acute Promyelocytic Leukemia- APL. The pull out couch in his room became my temporary bed. The gowns, gloves, and masks became my temporary wardrobe. This was my new life; my new reality without any choice at all.

It was a Saturday. The next day was Super Bowl Sunday and thankfully, the Patriots won for him while we watched it in his hospital room (even though he couldn’t see). The next day however, Monday, he couldn’t breathe. They gave him all of these machines to increase his oxygen levels but nothing worked. He suffered from Differentiation Syndrome. Basically, what happens is your body becomes so overwhelmed by all the fluids the machines pump in you, the fluids starts to flood your organs rather than be absorbed. He was literally drowning in bed.

He was then taken from the Oncology floor to the I.C.U. and put on life support with a 10% chance of living. He doesn’t remember this transition (thankfully) but I do. I will forever remember this night because it was the worst night of my life.

We went from a few nurses pushing his bed quietly through hallways into the I.C.U. to this room full of lights and doctors. They grabbed him, stripped him naked, and began preparing to intubate him. Shane had been so brave till this moment. Through the crevices of doctors’ shoulders in front of me, I could see him look for me. I was so helpless watching him search for his comfort and safety, me.

I was then pulled to a table outside of his room with papers slapped in front of me. It was a male doctor, shorter with glasses I remember, handing me a pen. He then yelled, “If you don’t sign these right now, He’ll die tonight!” He was clearly doing his job at a stressful time (which I understand)... but the fact that the doctor couldn’t compose his fear is what absolutely shot my nervous system. I signed the papers (which had to have been chicken scratch), and then was placed in a waiting room with a hospital blanket. At 2am, I sat in that frigid, dark room alone with my thoughts and feelings. I couldn’t call anyone since I had no idea what to report. No one explained anything to me. His life trumped my understanding of it (obviously).

Hours later, a nurse and that same doctor came in to explain the situation. He was definitely calmer, but still blunt (which I appreciate now... no BS). He informed me of the seriousness of Shane’s condition - 10% chance of living. I was told to go to a hotel and call our families to come as soon as possible. They took me to see him and I almost fainted. My sweet, happy soldier that conversed with me hours prior was a still man that only had machines as his form of communication. I hated how still he was.

I couldn’t stop screaming, crying, and pleading with God that this wasn’t happening. I had to get a grip though because I could tell some nurses were debating to call psych on me. I walked away with plastic, hospital bags holding our belongings, knowing I was walking to an empty bed, in a hotel, that could symbolize a potentially empty bed forever.

It was snowing, so I had to brush off the car and scrape off the ice. I then called my mom absolutely hysterical. She got a plane ticket that second (thank God). After that phone call, I texted Shane’s parents thoroughly (because I don’t think I could’ve verbalized another sentence), and Big Mike did the same. That definitely helped me cope. I needed my mom, and Shane needed his dad.

None of us could eat. None of us could sleep. It was just beyond traumatizing for all of us. He went days without progress. The doctors came in everyday looking discouraged because there was nothing new to report.

Prayer became my obsession. Prayer was a drug, and I its addict. I exposed all vulnerability and requested anyone/anything possible to pray too. This is where however, I became a true believer in God. I literally watched the ripple effect of prayer evolve. I watched a true miracle perform its magic.

Friday morning, the doctors came in smiling. Non-verbal communication can express more than any sentence. They told us that his lungs are twice as strong as yesterday, and they’re on the verge of inhaling more oxygen than the machines would allow! In addition, he was waking up at times from the anesthesia wearing off. We’d have to explain where he was and what was happening till they put him back to sleep. The chocking, restraints on his wrists, and fear in his eyes were definitely soul crushing... but to see life in his eyes again... to see his brain working; processing what we were telling him... we found our lost hope. We selfishly wanted him afraid of this life because that meant he was alive, fighting it.

That afternoon, they took him off life support and by then his mother, Rachel was there too to welcome Shane back. The next 40+ days is for another time to write. So, let’s end this post on a good note. He woke up! He beat the 10% odds and survived! He became my Shane again! Thank you God and prayer for being the miracles desperate souls need in this world. Thank you God and prayer for giving fighting souls a fighting chance.

"If the only prayer you ever say in your entire life is thank you, it will be enough." -Meister Eckhart

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sauerjim · 5 years

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Last Friday (3/6/2020) I was heading downtown to meet Monica for dinner and a movie (the Banff Mountain Film Festival @ the Fox) when I caught my front bicycle tire in the streetcar tracks (on 4th Ave, in front of the Co-op). I went down hard: broken collarbone; "small to moderate" collapsed lung; some minor scrapes. It could have been much worse. My helmet saved my head and luckily no other vehicles were involved. I was very well taken care of: by a few good Samaritans at first, then TPD, then TFD, then an ambulance crew, then a team at Banner/UMC E.R. ... and by Monica throughout. That night I was sent home with a sling and lots of pain meds. (Fentanyl and oxycodone work very well.) Luckily I only needed the strong stuff for the first few days. Ibuprofen, ice, and rest keep me pretty comfortable now. I'm amazed at how much better I feel every day, and how much more I can do every day. Friends have showered us with attention and food. I have all that I need. The clavicle will heal by itself if left alone, but I'm talking to a surgeon on Monday to see if it might heal better with surgery. (The bone broke into at least 4 pieces that are no longer aligned with each other, so a surgical plate seems likely.) It's been humbling to realize how fragile I am, and how many strong and capable people surround me at all times.

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mountain-pose · 5 years

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IBD and my new diet...

I got thrown for quite a loop this past weekend when I actually wound up in my local E.R. I had been having stomach problems since Monday night and, though I thought I was making progress to getting better after being horribly ill, it turned out I was actually suffering from a very new, very real diagnosis of Inflammatory Bowel Disease (IBD).

I am not yet sure just how severe my diagnosis is. I suspect I have Ulcerative Colitis, but it is also possible that I have Crohn’s disease, however I won’t know until I can get in to a follow appointment with a gastroenterologist. Now, both are manageable and SO many people live with UC and Crohn’s every day. It has just come as a shock to me that I am having my first major flare up at the age of 22.

I have had mini flare ups before, but nothing that lasted longer than a couple hours, and definitely not one that lasted multiple consecutive days (or multiple weeks, as I am now into the second week of this one). And I have to say it is not fun feeling sick to your stomach for days on end.

After an ultrasound and a cat scan at the hospital, I was essentially told that I would have to make a conscious change to my eating and drinking habits if I wanted to be able to control my IBD, or at least be able to live with it. I have to give my colon a rest during this flare up before I will be able to start reintroducing my old diet.

For people who know me, you know that I love food-- to the point that I plan my entire day around what I have on the menu. I adore cuisine, of all kind, and drink too. Most of my life is spent around food and drink, and spent consuming as much of each as possible. Trying new things, new flavors and new tastes is something I strive to do on the daily-- Experimenting with new recipes, be they cocktail or baked goods. Being a bartender/server and dating a chef means even when I am not at work, my life revolves around FOOD and ALCOHOL and the art behind making each taste as best as possible. In short, I am heartbroken.

At first, I will admit, I got quite depressed. The thought of not being able to enjoy food and drink on a daily basis without putting myself in pain really got to me. I refused to eat anything, nothing that I could have sounded good and I definitely let myself act stubborn. I just drank water and sulked because that seemed better than the “clear liquids” diet the doctor put me on for 24 hours. And honestly, 24hrs was enough for me to go completely food crazy!

The next day I drove straight to Barnes&Noble and bought myself 3 cookbooks! Now Salt,Fat, Acid, Heat is just for me to have, it’s a staple cookbook just for my shelf. However, The Quiet Gut Cookbook and Happy Gut Cookbook at both cookbooks with low FODMAP (Fermentable Oligo‐, Di‐ and Mono‐saccharides and Polyols) recipes for people who have sensitive digestive systems! I decided that since I can’t make the IBD go away I was determined to make sure I could at least make myself a healthy meal that tasted good to get me through these flare ups!

There are a lot of factors that go into each individuals flare up of IBD, and certain things will affect everyone differently. And depending on the severity of the flare up, the length of time it takes to go into remission may vary. But eliminating certain things in your diet that are known to upset/cause IBD flare ups will significantly help and reduce symptoms.

Considering this new development in my life, I am going to be posting a lot of recipes that I try that have helped my stomach over the past couple of days. I am going to be very vocal about how IBD is affecting my life and what I learn about eating and working out with IBD.

I have considered trying CBD (Cannabidiol) remedies for IBD and have been doing research into that aspect of medicine, but for now I am just changing my diet and being conscious about my intakes of certain things like gluten, dairy, garlic, onion, raw veggies/fruits/nuts and, of course, alcohol. I am keeping a food journal and taking notes on how certain recipes and foods make me feel, and taking notice of the ones that make me feel like complete crap.

So, here it goes, my journey to eating and living healthy with IBD-- I have a major learning curve ahead of me, but I am just going to try to cook my way through it!

-Maddie Xoxo

#low-FODMAP #IBD #UC #Ulcerative Colitis #Crohn's Disease #FODMAP #Cookbook #Home cooking #CBD #salt fat acid heat #Happy Gut cookbook #The Quiet Gut Cookbook #Diet #healthy #personal #journal #cannabidiol #mine

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archmage--khadgar · 8 years

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Health-related things below the cut.

We all know how great my health is, and how it has put me in the emergency room more than once. So on Monday, after days of pain, I finally went to the e.r after being instructed to by a doctor. And I learned things! I always knew that not eating enough didn’t always lead to weight loss, that sometimes all it did was slow down your metabolism etc etc. What I didn’t know, that sometimes, regardless of having food in your stomach, if you’re starving, your stomach will sometimes produce acid anyways. Had ulcers when I was younger, but... Long and short of it, I was marched to the E.R in so much pain I thought Garona had become real and stabbed me with a fel-knife. After years of, not...eating...with random binges. I almost had an organ or two uh, to put it nicely the next step up from the pain I was in was having something bleed out on me from the excess stomach acid. I’d also become dehydrated. Which had been mussing with bladder, kidneys. Nothing seems to be severely damaged nor do I need surgery. But yeah I need to learn how to eat 3 meals a day (or start grazing) and need to stop starving myself or next time I might not be so lucky. Taking stuff to protect my stomach and what not. SO YEAH. That’s been my week. There’s still minor pain, and I’ve got a knot in my back from hell right now. But. *coughs* yeah. It’s why I’ve been slow, not a lack of muse or anything. Just mostly. “OW MY EVERYTHING.”

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fdiddyrojastill-blog · 5 years

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We got in a massive car wreck Monday at 7:06 am.

Not only am I blessed by God to still be here, standing, breathing, with no broken bones, but all 3 of my children AND my dog made it.

I slowed at a yellow light and came to a complete stop on red, waited, and a couple seconds later, I heard a loud POP! At first instinct, I thought, TIRE EXPLODED? And in the milliseconds, I realized we were moving. Fast. I looked back at the kids, saw we were skidding towards another vehicle and thought, this is it. This is that scene in the movies where the second vehicle hits them and everybody dies. SMASH! SMASH!

We finally stop.

And I turn around.

And all of them are okay.

They’re ALL okay.

In my tiny eco-car, my babies are all wide-eyed and scared. My youngest daughter is crying; her head hurts. My head hurts. I don’t remember the airbag deploying, but my lips feel raw so they must have brushed something. My legs ache and I can see they’re scraped a bit. I see other people approaching the car and try to open my door, but it seems to be dented enough to need a solid push. A man in a reddish shirt asks if we’re okay. I can’t find my phone anywhere; the vent it was mounted on is gone completely; I ask the guy in the red shirt if I can borrow his phone and he pauses then hands it over. I’m amazed I remember my husband’s phone number. Tell him we were in an accident and he says he’s hurrying out the door. I don’t see the red-shirt man; he’d just walked off. Huh. Lot of trust.

An older woman, probably 50, comes to me and says she’s going to check the kids. She tells me my youngest daughter’s head hurts and my son’s wrist hurts. She’s an EMT. Another woman tells me she’s a nurse who just got off her shift and saw the accident. Asks if I’m okay. Babies are first and I’m not sure what to do with myself.

The two ladies leave and I realize another man is standing there. No clue why. I realize his truck is also damaged. Must’ve been the second vehicle. It’s a goddamn miracle he didn’t hit ME. The old lady in the car that hit me stays in her vehicle. Staring at me. Curly white hair frames her thin face. I think about going to say something. But she knows.

The ambulance shows up along with police. They move us all into the ambulance, and we’re warm and cozy and I’m starting to relax a little when my son asks where our dog is. I immediately imagine the horror that must have happened. I didn’t even see her leave the car. Is she stuck under the lady’s car? Smeared down the road? Compacted into the trunk of my car??? I start full-body trembling and try not to cry as I tell the kids, “she must be running around out in the field, it’s okay.” The ambulance people tell me I shouldn’t go look. Wait for my husband. Husband shows up, kids are okay. He goes to look for Mocha while we finish up in the ambulance.

Finally, we can leave, and we go straight to the E.R. Doctor’s a dick, but we find out that my son’s arm is broken. The fibula is completely snapped. Tough boy didn’t cry once. I’m sore. Still on the verge of tears. Mom miraculously finds the dog over a Facebook post. And 2 days later, I am still wondering how we survived. God must have a plan for us.

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deniscollins · 6 years

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His College Knew of His Despair. His Parents Didn’t, Until It Was Too Late.

According to federal law colleges must treat students as adults and bars parents from even the most basic student records, like a transcript, without their child’s consent, however colleges are allowed, but not required, to release the records or let a family member know if a student is suicidal. If you were a college administrator what would you do if a student was failing 3 of his four classes and a professor raised concerns about the student’s mental well-being: (1) Inform his parents or (2) not inform his parents? Why? What are the ethics underlying your decision?

In the days after her son Graham hanged himself in his dormitory room at Hamilton College, Gina Burton went about settling his affairs in a blur of efficiency, her grief tinged with a nagging sense that something did not add up.

She fielded requests and sympathy notes from the college, promising the dean of students a copy of his obituary “so you can see how special Hamilton was to him.” This was why his suicide “makes no sense,” she added in a puzzled aside. The next day, Ms. Burton accepted condolences from the college president, and assured him “how right a choice Hamilton was” for her son.

But two weeks later, she read her son’s journal and everything changed. Mr. Burton, a sophomore, wrote that he was flunking three of his four classes and called himself a “failure with no life prospects.” He had struggled to sleep, missed classes, turned in assignments late. The college had known of his difficulty, he wrote, but had been slow to offer help and understanding.

“Would you care to shed some light on this?” Ms. Burton asked in an angry email sent at 2:53 a.m. to the academic dean, with copies to the president and the dean of students. “If this is what drove Graham, I don’t think I’ll be able to cope.”

Every year, parents send their children to college, trusting that they will be well, or that word will come if they are not. Ms. Burton had lived every parent’s nightmare: a child flunking out, sinking into despair, his parents the last to know. Her discovery set off a wave of pain and soul-searching but also a campaign to strip away some of the veils of confidentiality that colleges say protect the privacy and autonomy of students who are learning to be adults.

Suicide is the second-leading cause of death, after accidents, for college-age adults in the United States. The number of college students seeking treatment for anxiety and depression has risen sharply over the past few years, and schools have in turn stepped up their efforts in mental health research and intervention. Even so, families have continued to put pressure on them to take greater responsibility for students’ well-being.

In a case that was closely watched across the country, Massachusetts’s highest court ruled on Monday that M.I.T. could not be held responsible for the 2009 suicide of a graduate student. But the court ruled that a university might be liable under limited circumstances, such as when a student expressly tells college staff members of plans to commit suicide.

“I think everybody should be on notice that schools can’t hide their head in the sand,” a mental health lawyer, Carolyn Reinach Wolf, said. “They can’t say, ‘Students are on loan to us.’”

Professors at Hamilton College, in upstate New York, had expressed concerns about Mr. Burton for much of the fall term and knew he was in deep distress, according to a report on his death that was shown to The New York Times. More than a month before his death, his adviser, Maurice Isserman, wrote the academic dean the strongest of many warnings: “Obviously what’s happening here is a complete crash and burn. I don’t know what the procedures/rules are for contacting parents but if this was my kid, I’d want to know.”

Professor Isserman struck at the heart of what mattered to the Burtons: whether the college had a responsibility to tell them what it knew.

College officials say they are constrained by the Family Educational Rights and Privacy Act, or Ferpa, a federal law governing student privacy, in reaching out to parents. A Hamilton official cited it at a recent student assembly meeting, when students asked about the Burtons’ contention that they had not been told of their son’s troubles. The law views students as adults and bars parents from even the most basic student records, like a transcript, without their child’s consent.

There are exceptions: Colleges can release any student record to parents if the student signs a consent, if the college knows that a parent claims the child as a dependent on tax forms, or in a health or safety emergency. Even so, federal law allows colleges to use their discretion. They are allowed, but not required, to release the records or let a family member know if a student is suicidal.

Colleges use the law not only to protect students’ privacy but also to shield the college from conflict with parents and other forces in society, said Brett Sokolow, a risk management consultant to universities.

“There is an ethos of maintaining privacy and confidentiality — which sometimes is very beneficial,” Mr. Sokolow said. “But when somebody’s dead, do you wish you’d worked to maintain their privacy, or do you wish you’d worked to keep them alive?”

As colleges contend with how involved to be in students’ lives, parents, too, often struggle with their responsibility to recognize when their children need help. Some Hamilton administrators said that they did not want to encourage helicopter parenting, and that parents were sometimes part of the problem.

“There’s a concern that if the school has too low a threshold for contacting family or suggesting a student take a leave of absence, it will actually discourage kids from coming forward for help,” said Dr. Victor Schwartz, the chief medical officer at the Jed Foundation, an advocacy group for student mental health. “So you’re basically walking a tightrope.”

Warning Signs

No matter how close parents are to their children, there is so much, especially of their internal lives, that they may not know about them.

Many parents are astonished to realize that they may never see a transcript of their child’s grades. If they are lucky, the college might send home a congratulatory note, to be tacked onto the refrigerator, about the child making the dean’s list. But parents, often referred to as “authorized payers” on tuition bills, are not likely to get a similar notification if a child is flunking, or seeking help for distress.

Even when the suicide threat is explicit, colleges have been reluctant to bring in parents.

In the spring of 2016, Olivia Kong, a junior at the University of Pennsylvania, had been barely sleeping, worried about not being able to drop a class she thought she would fail.

Ms. Kong called the university counseling center on April 7 and told the on-call psychiatrist that she was thinking of killing herself, according to a lawsuit filed by her parents last month against Penn, where 14 students have committed suicide since 2013. Later that day, she filed an electronic petition for late withdrawal from her class, writing: “I have had thoughts of suicide.”

That weekend, she went home to her parents, who live nearby in Philadelphia, and spoke to the same on-call psychiatrist. In his report, the psychiatrist wrote, “I offered that the cost of E.R. visit is likely less than cost of funeral arrangements.” He added, “Said that she had actually planned to return to campus Sunday and kill self.”

Ms. Kong did return to campus, and her parents went to check on her at about midnight Sunday, meeting her outside her dorm. Her mother felt her daughter’s forehead for fever and gave her some dumplings she had cooked for her.

The next morning, April 11, Ms. Kong walked into the dark tunnel of a commuter rail station and lay down on the tracks. The conductor could not stop in time.

LONG ARTICLE CONTINUES

#Higher Education #Depression

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