#prescription metformin

[weightlossprogramblog]

What Should My Base Metabolic Rate Be?

People often scrutinize their calories and metabolism rate when trying to lose weight. They look at how many calories they put into their body and what they can do to burn off as much as possible. Getting a phentermine prescription can lower your appetite and help you eat less, but you still need a fast metabolism to maximize your workouts and burn fat.

But did you know that up to 75 percent of the calories you burn daily go towards essential biological functions like breathing, circulation, and cell production? The precise number of calories your body needs to keep you alive is known as the basal metabolic rate (BSR) or base metabolic rate.

What is the Base Metabolic Rate?

Let's clear up some confusion. Your BMR is different from your resting metabolic rate (RMR). That's an entirely different measurement that reflects the number of calories your body burns while resting. Usually, you'd measure it in the morning after a whole night of rest.

A base metabolic rate is how many calories you need to stay healthy. You can get a phentermine prescription to decrease your appetite, reduce caloric intake, and lose weight. But knowing your BMR ensures that you're not cutting calories enough to sacrifice your health.

There are a few ways to measure your BMR. For highly accurate results, you'd have to visit a laboratory and undergo testing under safe and restrictive settings. Fortunately, you don't need a precise number to tackle your weight loss journey safely. Best estimates work well, too, and you can get those with simple calculations.

The most used formula is the Harris-Benedict Equation.

For men, the formula is as follows:

88.362 + (13.397 x your weight in kilograms) + (4.799 x your height in centimeters) - (5.677 x your age in years)

Women can use this formula:

447.593 + (9.247 x your weight in kilograms) + (3.098 x your height in centimeters) - (4.330 x your age in years)

Generally, a healthy man will have a BMR of around 7,100 kJ per day. Meanwhile, women should have a BMR of roughly 5,900 kJ a day.

Read a similar article about Wegovy prescription here at this page.

[stephaniedola]

ugh i literally cant decide if i actually want to go to the doctor today and ask about mental health options

its not that i dont want help i just have lost faith in all the methods they seem willing to offer me

like antidepressants? no dice they never worked much anyway and the side effects are too dangerous for me

mood stabilizers? maybe but stuff like that usually has more side effects than SSRIs so im scared that those meds will cause even more complications if i go on them

therapy? maybe. idk. never seems to help anyway. after a certain point they just look at me like they dont know what to do.

[dinosaurcharcuterie]

Went to a different pharmacist for my vitamin D3 supplements because I was short on time but still value my bone density. They only had the gel caps from the slightly more expensive brand, and they took ages to find. I vaguely remembered not liking them, but couldn't recall why. Well, I didn't have to divide them and I'd survived taking them last time, so fuck it, gel cap me up.

As I was paying, the second pharmacist comes out laughing and shows she also found them as gummies. Gummy vitamins aren't a thing here, and they didn't remember why they got ordered. I shrug and say probably someone who struggles to swallow pills.

Do I want them instead of my gel caps?

I eyed the massive jar of gummies, remembered my overflowing desk and politely declined.

To get to the point:

The Vigantolvit gel caps are a fucking pain to get out of their deep and tiny blister packs. Literally. They cut under your fingernails if you try and press them out without pre-piercing the overly sturdy foil on the other end. They roll. Everywhere. Off the table, on the table into partitions of your medibox that you definitely didn't place it in. And they're smaller than mini m&ms, which, yeah, sure, make them easy to swallow, but which also means they're nigh impossible to pick up if your fine motor skills are not fully online for the day.

Tl;dr: I should have taken the fucking vitamin gummies.

[medsurfernews]

Can Metformin Cause Weight Loss? An In-Depth Look

Can Metformin Cause Weight Loss? This is a widespread question patients ask. Metformin, a widely prescribed medication for type 2 diabetes, has garnered attention for its potential weight loss effects. This article explores the relationship between metformin and weight loss, examining the scientific evidence, proposed mechanisms, and considerations for its use. Understanding Metformin Metformin…

[mistydeyes]

first line treatments: how the pharmacist met the 141

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

summary: After your time as the pharmacist in the army, you think back to your days when you first started at the pharmacy. You were in your late 20's, less experienced and also less stressed, and more importantly had not familiarized with your patient. However, you fondly remember how you got to know each member of the 141.

pairing: Task Force 141 x pharmacist!Reader

some other parts of the pharmacist!series:

counseling the 141 - first part to the pharmacist! story

weird dreams when they are injured on the field

being sick and having the 141 come to the rescue

warnings: medical/pharmacy terminology, medical inaccuracies, swearing, depiction of wounds and violence

a/n: this took me a while to think of because I knew I wanted to continue my pharmacist!series but I wasn't sure where to go with it! hope you enjoy!

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

price

"Alright Captain, here's the keys," the head of the medical department said as she dropped them in your hand, "the pharmacy opens in an hour." You held the heavy chain in your palm, noting the various tags on the individual keys. "Wait, what do you mean in an hour?" you questioned as you stood outside the locked gates. She let out a laugh before responding. "An hour, Captain," she corrected and your eyes widened, "you're the new pharmacist in charge and the Army wouldn't have picked you if they didn't think you would be able to do this." With that, she walked off, leaving you to fumble around and try to orient yourself in the new area.

Despite the awful time you had waking up at 05:00, any sense of sleeplessness was gone and you were fully running on adrenaline. You felt like someone injected you with epinephrine based on how you ran around the pharmacy, trying to fill scripts and get your logins in. At 06:30, you heard a knock on the door to the pharmacy. You practically jumped, almost dropping the bottle of Metformin in your hand. "Hello?" you questioned as you saw a uniformed officer standing with a water bottle. "You must be the new pharmacist," she smiled and you opened the door to fully, "I'm your technician." You could feel your stress subside as she gave you a quick tour of the pharmacy. By the time she was finished, she informed you she would take care of the incoming scripts while you managed the queue and the verification process.

To your delight, the automatic pharmacy doors opened and you saw there was not a large queue of soldiers waiting for their scripts. You took a moment to catch your breath and review some of the new scripts as well as the occasional filled prescription that required your verification. You were focused, drowning out the sounds of the pills hitting the tray and the occasional conversations in the hallway. "Um Captain," your technician called, "I think someone is waiting." You felt your face flush as you quickly walked over to see a captain politely waiting. "I'm so sorry," you apologized as you looked up at him, "first day on the job." "It's alright," he reassured and you smiled, relieved he wasn't an irate customer.

"Did you check in with the app?" you asked and he shook his head. "I like to come early to avoid all that nonsense, I believe medical sent something down for me," he spoke gently, "the name's John Price." You turned to the computer and took a few moments to orient yourself with the system. Eventually, you were able to find his file amongst the surprising amounts of John Price's in the system. "Yes, looks there's two here for you," you said and turned to search around the bins. You thought searching the system took you long but navigating the bins took even longer. You eventually found the clear bag of his items and returned. "Here you go," you responded, "any questions?" He shook his head and you handed over the bag. Before he left, he turned back to you. "It's already half past 7, you're making it through your first day," he commented. You weren't sure if it was a compliment or a complaint based on your slow time, however, you were comforted knowing the day was going quickly.

soap

After a few more patients, you finally had time to review your emails for the day. You sighed as you clicked through the reminders for meetings and on-boarding. You finally reached something of note. You sat back in the chair as you read through the email and attached file carefully. In summary, it notified you of a certain non-compliant patient who would be visiting your pharmacy soon. You laughed at the bold red letters that read “PLEASE ADVISE SERGEANT MACTAVISH TO TAKE THE FULL COURSE OF ANTIBIOTICS.” This was the first email of its kind you’ve received and you laughed at the childlike recommendation.

The incoming scripts had dissipated and your technician decided to take over the counter for you. Eventually, you heard your name being called and you walked over. "Captain, there's a mandatory counseling notification for you," she remarked and you nodded. You looked up to the patient who seemed to know what this was about. "If you don't mind Sergeant, you can come to the vaccination area and we can discuss," you explained with a smile. He nodded at your command and you walked to the private corner. You settled into the plastic chair and he sat across from you. “You're not in any trouble," you joked, "I’ve actually heard a lot about you, Sergeant.” He let out a laugh as you grabbed his medication. “You can drop the formalities,” he said before you began your counseling, “it’s just Johnny.”

"Well Johnny," you returned the conversation to you, "medical wanted me to talk to you about how to take these." Another laugh and this time you looked at him a bit confused. "Doctors are always tellin me that," he said as his voice boomed in the small area. "They are right after all, you should be taking the full course of these," you advised, "they even come counted out for you." You turned the bottle of Amoxicillin/Clavulanic acid in your hand, looking at the nine white tablets. "I'm serious, Johnny, you know the types of recurring infections you get if you don't take these," you said, sternly, as if you were a mother chiding their child. "I know, I know, Captain," he said defensively, hands in the air. "Good," you said handing the pills over, "then I shouldn't be seeing a script for you anytime soon." With that, he nodded and you dismissed him before returning back to your computer. Little did you know, you would be cursing at the pharmacy system as a script for Mactavish, John came in for MRSA infection.

gaz

After a week, you were finally comfortable in your role as the pharmacy officer. You were able to fill and verify scripts quickly and keep the queue from turning into an angry mob. The constant self-dosing of paracetamol was a thing of the past for you. However, as your technicians were frantically running around when you returned from lunch, your mood changed. After one of them sheepishly explained the situation, you felt like screaming. "What do you mean the medical file system is down?!" you exclaimed as your heart dropped. Apparently, it would be fixed once it was determined to be an error and not a malicious hack. You were also advised to stay off the phone lines and other systems as a precaution. This didn't help you as a platoon of soldiers was coming in for their prescriptions and were leaving on a 6-month deployment.

It would be no issue but you found that you were unable to verify an NSAID allergy for a patient. "Guess I'm doing this the old-fashioned way," you mumbled before walking out the pharmacy doors. As you exited the pharmacy, you soon realized your haste. Despite receiving a full tour on the first day, you had no idea where to go. You spent 15 minutes exploring the halls but to no avail. Finally, you threw in the towel and decided to ask someone. You looked around and saw a sergeant walking down the hall, casually. "Excuse me, Sergeant!" you called out and he walked closer. You read his name tag before continuing. "Sergeant Garrick," you asked as you looked up at him, "would you mind directing me to the medical wing?" "The directions are a bit confusing, so I can walk with you," he offered and you nodded happily.

As you walked, you made pleasant conversation. He asked you many questions about your short time on base and took an interest in your hospital pharmacy job before this. "The career change came when I was tired of mixing IV bags" you explained, remembering how after that shift you went to a recruitment center. In contrast, he described how he enlisted after secondary school and eventually worked his way up the ranks. "Do you ever regret it?" you asked, hoping not to offend the soldier. He let out a small chuckle which rebounded in the linoleum hallway. "Lots of people ask that but there's never a day that I do," he responded, smiling back at you. After the afternoon you had, Sergeant Garrick was a fresh of breath air. His optimism and smile made you think he was his squad's dose of Vitamin C.

Eventually, you saw the sign for the medical wing. Part of you had forgotten this is how your stroll had begun. "And here she is," he presented, sarcastically having his hands. "I can't thank you enough, this would've taken me ages to find," you said with gratitude. He nodded before turning around and walking back to his initial destination. "Thanks for the walk, Captain," he called and you smiled to yourself before navigating through the various doctor's offices.

ghost

As you looked up at the clock, you watched it painstakingly go second by second. Fridays and weekends were especially slow as most soldiers were on leave or off-base. You even relieved your technician as the hours slowly passed with no scripts being entered. Eventually, you heard the doors open and you walked to the counter.“Can I return this?” the man spoke, pushing over a small bottle of pills. You looked up at him, reading his name tag. “Well, Lieutenant Riley. If it’s an antibiotic you can toss it once the course is completed, you don’t have to come back here,” you clarified, expecting him to take the bottle back. But he simply shook his head. You placated the lieutenant and picked up the bottle. It looked like one from a civilian chemists and you turned the label to find it was a prescription for fluoxetine.

"Oh I see now," you realized, "I can dispose of this for you." As you threw the bottle into the bin to process later, you realized he was still standing at the counter. "Did you need something else, Lieutenant?" you asked as he stood in place. "Is there any way to get it off my file? The chemists gave this to me for the third time and I don't take it anymore," he requested and you were more than happy to oblige. "Yes, I'm sorry that it still gets sent out when you're on leave," you apologized, turning your gaze to the computer. You typed in a few things and after requesting his full name and date of birth, you were able to pull up his medical file.

Despite looking like a well-oiled machine, his file was as long as the base itself. You scrolled past various psych evals, mandatory therapy notes, and hospital records until you reached his prescription list. You tried to hide your dismay when you saw he was initially prescribed this in 2001, over 20 years ago. You wondered if this was the first time he had ever thought to get it discontinued officially in the records. "Everything alright?" he asked, noting how you stared at the screen and you nodded. "I can remove it for you now and add a note to prevent any further refills," you said and with a few codes and your confirmation, it was successfully removed. You returned back to the counter, letting the lieutenant know it was completed. "Thank you, Captain," he said quietly and turned to probably head back to his quarters. You made sure to close his file before you returned the item, trying to avoid the copious amounts of alerts regarding his plethora of scripts and refills. "Guess I'll be seeing you soon, Lieutenant," you said under your breath, not realizing how often you would be seeing certain patients.

[lady-severus-snape]

Random headcannon #987

Severus is a feminist and a champion to one he decides to love.

In the U.S. alone close to an estimated 6 million women suffer from PCOS (myself included) , this does not include those that have not been diagnosed.

****************************

Severus would absolutely be appalled and down right foaming at the mouth when he finds his woman curled up on the bathroom floor crying from pain.

Severus (Concerned, bends down to help you): Darling, what is the matter? Are you hurt? Talk to me?

Y/N (whimpering and writhing in pain): yea, I'm OK. A cyst probably burst. I already took the maximum dose of acetaminophen for today. So hopefully it will take the edge off.

Severus (worried about you): what? What do you mean a cyst has ruptured?! Where?! Max dosage? Woman, that's about 2000mg!

Y/N (grunts and pants through the wave of pain): An ovarian cyst probably burst, and/or I'm having severe menstrual cramps. Yea, short of prescription pain killers, that's what I have on hand. Don't worry I made sure to eat so it doesn't fuck me up more.

Severus could only listen in horror. His woman looked and sounded like she was dying, and all she explained was that a cyst, an ovarian cyst at that exploded internally, and she said was it's was ok?!

Severus: Lovey, we need to get you to the hospital. (Helps Y/N into the room)

Y/N: no, that's OK. They won't do anything. The most they will do is maybe a scan, blood work, and maybe ibuprofen before sending me home with instructions to rest, use a heating pad, and more Tylenol. It's not worth the cost of the visit. I'll fine Sev, honest. Not the first time it's happened and won't be the last.

Severus (mouth dropped open, aghast): what?! What. Do. You. Mean. They. Won't. Do. Anything. You're literally agonizing in pain. They have to do something, they just can't dismiss your problems. It's happened before? When? Why? How?

Y/N (Climbs into bed and curls up): Severus, baby, I hate to break it to you, the medical community don't give a shit about us women. I have Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome or PCOS. There is no cure and only like 4-5 medicinal options to manage the symptoms. It took me nearly 20 years to recieve a diagnosis. Dr's called me crazy, depressed, hallucinating, that everything was normal.

Severus felt white hot anger course through his veins. His Y/N was in clear pain, distress, and who knows what else. The muggle doctors failed to help his love.

Severus asked y/n many questions in regards to it until he saw she was nodding off to sleep, the pain finally retracting enough. His mind was already running with possible potion ideas. He needed more information. He walked over to the small library y/n had built over time and pulled every book she had on PCOS. By the 3rd book it was obvious to him, that the information was repeating/recycling itself:

-hormonal problem -uncontrollable weight gain -excess body and facial hair(all the depilatory supplies made more sense) -female patterned hair loss(it explained why she always wore her hair up and always with a hat or scarf) -depression -super heavy and painful menstrual cycles or lack of one -cysts developing not just internally but also outwardly -infertility -high insulin levels

Treatments: hormone contraceptives, metformin or other type 2 diabetic medications, spironolactone or other hair growth inhibiting medications, losing weight, and excersize.

Severus peaked into the bedroom when he heard y/n whimper in her sleep. Another cramp of pain was hitting. His grip on the book tightened until it started to smoke and smolder from his magic, acting to his emotions. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he weighed his options. He would have to delve into extensive research. What good was his potions mastery if he didn't utilize it. The rest of the weekend was spent with him taking care of y/n through what seemed to him a very hard and agonizing menstrual cycle.

^food in bed ^long soaks in the bathtub with his own personal muscle relaxant ^snacks and chocolate galore ^pampering of every kind you could think of

Once y/n was right as rain, Severus consumed research like a man possessed. Muggle medical reports, studies, and pharmaceuticals. Hell, he even researched for it in the magical world. Boy, was he sorely disappointed. If he thought muggle medicine was lack luster in regards to PCOS, then the magical community was left in the dust! Nothing, zip, zero, nada was found in correlation to PCOS. There is nothing to even address the barest of symptoms! Severus had never been so....so......so......horrified! Armed with rage, spitefulness, and indignation on behalf of y/n, Severus plunges into the world of the unknown for PCOS. Experimental potions safe for muggle use, others for the witches. Thankfully, he has some basis from when he modified the wolfsbane potion. As his research progressed, he discovered that the magical birth rates were low due to not only the inbreeding for blood purity, but in actuality, PCOS was also common amongst the magical woman folk. This led him down another rabbit hole that played on genetics.

After many failed results, Severus managed to find the right combination for y/n. It wasn't a cure by any means of the imagination, but it was far cry from the plebian options offered. His elixir, taken consistently, would lower the excess androgen levels and keep the cortisol level low. It worked better than the aforementioned muggle drugs. He still had problems finding a solution to the whole ovulating problem without causing severe side effects worse than the muggle drugs, but by the gods, he was working on it. Y/N's hair was already growing back fuller, thicker, healthier. Even the beard and mustache she let herself grow out for the sake of research (and laziness. Why should she worry about her beard if it didn't bother Severus. If anything, he was slightly jelly at how glorious hers was; it wasn't fair) had begun to thin out, practically patchy in some spots. But most importantly, to Severus, seeing the how y/n flourished, the femininity of her unrestrained from the dismorphia caused by PCOS. Free from the debilitating pain and suffering. It was breath taking, it made everything he had done worth it to see his love and hopefully the rest of the women population heard and seen.

[wumblr]

i keep finding it extremely difficult to be staying with my aunt, surrounded by remnants of the things my mom kept from the childhood home that was relinquished to a derelict mortgage in the housing crash after my dad died. the one-egg cast iron, the salt shakers in their tray (one of them missing?), the lazy susan, the unfinished metformin prescription, the carnival glass, the tiny ceramic house collection they packed up when it was unclear if covid had fomite transmission and never unpacked... and it's like. none of these have anywhere to go. i can't take them. if i tried to they would break or get stolen out of the mail or it's just another thing to lose and cry over later. and it's not like i'm going to forget anyway. i've completely lost control of my sleep schedule and woke up after everybody else went back to sleep so now i'm just alone for the rest of the night. watching spooky youtube because apparently the morbid is the only thing that will keep me distracted, or 15-view circuit bending noise videos because i don't want to miss the opportunity to train the algorithm right for once. and what for

[theshippirate22]

Lyn was having a shitty day as it was.  

There’s something neither glamorous nor sustainable about whatever sort of endless cycle she was in of getting up before 6, going to school all day, working at Willablues until 10, and then doing homework until passing out at 2 or 3, only to repeat it all the next day. Not to mention all the regular high school bullshit she was putting up with, and the stuff with fucking Brandon... at least she could count on Willablues to be exactly the way Willablues always was. 

She downed some Advil in the parking lot and hoped desperately that Hunter would be in a good enough mood to buy her a Monster.

The fluorescent lights were insufferable. Her boots squeaked on the grimy tiles all the way back to the pharmacy. She paused to see if she could see Livy, but there was no sign of her.  

Kelly opened the door at her knock and mumbled quickly, “Keep your head down,” which was enough to get a sudden assessment of whatever was going on behind the counter.  

Lyn set her stuff on the counter, acknowledging Caleb and Rich with half-hearted congeniality. She adjusted her bow, taking extra care before she faced Hunter. 

He was standing in the back with the phone pinned against his shoulder, counting metformin- or at least trying to but instead just sort of waving the spatula around with the inflection of what he was saying- stretching the cord out halfway across the filling counter.  

He had the voice, the detached, empty sort of voice Hunter got when his temper was particularly volatile, and she was quite sure whoever he was talking to would at least need to hesitate before getting the courage to ever call a Willablues again.  

She stepped over to the stack of leaflets on the counter and silently went to start filling, startling when Hunter’s spatula slapped audibly against the back of her hand. She looked over in vexed shock, rubbing at the spot where it struck, although it didn’t hurt more than surprise her. 

Hunter didn’t look at her, instead tapping the tip of the spatula against a different stack of leaflets. 

She reached for the top one tentatively, almost afraid she’d get hit again, but he let her take it. She made a frustrated noise deep enough in her throat that he wouldn’t hear it and went to get the Warfarin requested on the bottom corner.  

Caleb noticed the exchange and smiled sadly in solidarity as she brushed past him. She shrugged.  

Kelly’s advice proved the best of the evening. Keep your head down, Lyn repeated to herself over and over again. Hunter’s ever-present aura had gone toxic, filling up the whole store with some Agent Orange Adjacent feeling that couldn’t be escaped.  

Keep your head down. 

Lyn didn’t ask for help. She didn’t try to make small talk. She didn’t let a lull in customers giver the opportunity to fuck around with Kelly. For the most part, if she had questions, she would bug Caleb and Rich, and they were all the happier to answer, sans the time Hunter had gotten to her first and yanked the card from her hand to get it in the system before she’d even finished her sentence. It made her stomach hurt. 

She was halfway through emptying Rich’s bins of verified and bagged prescriptions when a man came up to the register. “Give me just a sec,” she murmured absently, finishing sorting the bags into their assigned bins the exact way Hunter did it and no one else. When she finally finished, she nodded satisfactorily and turned back to the register. 

“Hey! How can I-“ Lyn looked up from the keyboard and into the barrel of a gun. “Oh God.” 

It was concealed inside his jacket, so no one could see it but her. The man didn’t give his name but smiled congenially, as if he wasn’t actively threatening to blow her brain out. “Hi. I’m here to pick up some oxycodone.” 

“Right,” she mumbled, oxygen to her head cutting out suddenly and every bit of it expelled from her lungs. “I’m… I’m just an intern. Let me… let me get someone who can help you.” 

She took a shaky step back, horrified that she might trip over her own feet.  

“Stay where I can see you,” he amended, smiling still.  

 “Right,” She looked to the back desperately, hoping that someone might notice the shakiness in her voice. She didn’t even know what to do in this sort of thing. It was like her brain had shut off entirely and the only solution she could come up with was the one she wanted the least. 

“Hunter…?” 

She couldn’t see him from where he stood, back at the filling counter, but he didn’t answer.  

“Hunter,” she tried again, just a bit louder. “Hunter.” 

Rich looked up but seemed to acknowledge that it was Hunter’s attention she wanted and called his name another time for her.  

“HUNTER!” Lyn gasped.  

“FUCK!” Hunter threw his spatula to the counter with a loud clatter. “What, Lyn? What the fuck do you need?” 

“Come here please,” she mumbled.  

Hunter came to her, rubbing his face beneath his glasses in exasperation. “What?” 

“I’m sorry,” she murmured earnestly.  

He must’ve noticed the distress in her demeanor because the annoyance shifted to something else negative but unreadable. He looked toward the patient, eyes getting helplessly wide at the weapon now pointed right at him.  

“Oh,” he mumbled dumbly. There was a moment as he looked around, clearly thinking of some solution.  

“Lyn, get behind me,” he said finally.  

It happened naturally. She stepped back at the same moment he stepped around her so they could properly switch places.  

“What do you want?” Hunter asked levelly.  

“Oxycodone.” 

“Yeah. Okay. Lyn, there’s some on the shelves over by the file drawers. On the other side of the sink. Do you know where I mean?” 

Lyn looked where he directed, to the place that Oxycodone very much was not. “Yeah,” she said softly.  

“It’s in the safe, isn’t it?” asked the man. “It will take a minute to fill, won’t it?” 

Hunter nodded quickly, understanding the significance. “Rich already got it out. I just filled some. It’s on the counter.” 

“Should I get it?” 

“Yes. It’s just where I told you. Other side of the sink.” 

Lyn was trembling. She walked carefully, so she didn’t positively faint, and she didn’t think, so the positively didn’t cry. There was no Oxycodone by the sink. There had never been Oxycodone by the sink. When she looked over to the filling counter, she could see a bottle of Oxycodone that was out.  

Regardless, Hunter had been too insistent in his instructions, especially wrong instructions, to ignore them. Clearly, he knew something that she didn’t.  

She climbed over a warfarin bucket and pushed some cardboard boxes out of the way to look around the cabinet by the sink, exactly as Hunter had said. At first, she couldn’t see anything. The only thing they kept back there was the boxes of files required by the DEA. She never had any reason to go over there or to touch any of it; hardly anyone did, not even Missy. 

Still, she looked for what he might be talking about. She didn’t dare risk a glance back at him, although she wasn’t sure if that was because it would harm her courage or his.  

She didn’t find anything, and in a last-ditch effort to not get shot, she groped blindly along the edge of the cabinet until she caught something. 

Oh! Oh! There was something there. A little metal circle, and right in the middle of it, a smaller, quarter-sized plastic circle. A button. 

She pressed it. 

Nothing happened immediately. There were no sirens that went off or red lights flashing, like she thought might happen.  

Hunter, who had been babbling nervously, paused only a second, then continued on. Caleb, turned from the window to look at her, then looked back over his shoulder at the man at the counter, and immediately hit the monitor off. 

Rich’s computer- the one she could see from her place behind the shelves and unfortunately, the slowest and most lag-prone computer in the pharmacy- finally reacted. A red ribbon danced along the top of the screen, and everything locked suddenly to a sad gray screen with a warning she couldn’t read presented upon it. 

And right above it, was a five-minute countdown that had only made it to 4:53. 

She climbed out of the storage pile, walking deliberately to the filling counter and looked where the Oxycodone was meant to be. It was better to give it up than get shot, her teachers had said. Give them what they want. She checked the bottles on the counter. The Adderall was out, and some pentobarbital, but no Oxycodone. She swallowed thickly. 

“I can’t find it,” Lyn called to Hunter. “Are you sure you didn’t use the whole bottle?” 

She kept her voice as level as she could and going over to him. It was bad enough that she’d gotten him right there stalling at gunpoint, she wasn’t going to make him suffer it alone. 

The countdown on Hunter’s computer was at 4:17. 

“You’re right,” he nodded again. “The bottle was almost out, wasn’t it? I did use the rest of it. What would I do without you? Rich, can you get me some Percocet 10’s from the safe?” 

“Oxycodone,” the gunman interrupted. 

“Same thing,” Hunter mumbled absently. 

3:38. 

“Yeah,” Rich said, not really moving. He just stood there.  

Kelly came up from the back. She peered around Rich, the same white shade that Lyn was sure she herself was. Her hands were shaking, and she looked desperately like she wanted to say something, but nothing came out.  

She startled Rich, when he realized she was there, and shocked him back into moving, quickly getting to the safe and punching in the code. The noise of the keypad was deafening in the eerie stillness of everyone present. 

2:57. 

“The safe won’t open for five minutes,” Rich said. 

Hunter relayed this. 

“I’ll wait,” said the gunman. 

The drive through chime chirped angrily. Caleb reached for the phone slowly, resting it back on the cradle, like that would help them somehow.  

2:26. 

“What does that mean?” Lyn wanted to ask. “Two minutes, twenty seconds until what?” Instead, she did whatever she could not to breathe. She was pretty sure she knew anyway. Or at least hoped. Let it be two minutes until the cops show up. 

The next minute was the longest minute of her life. Her arms ached from where she held them, too afraid to rest them at her sides and draw attention back onto her. 

The chime went off again and again, seemingly getting more and more impatient, the way it does when a big truck rests on the sensor. With each one, it seemed to get deeper and more macabre, like haunted some prelude to dies irae.  

A woman came up to the counter just behind the gunman. It was clear she hadn’t noticed what was happening, trying to get a show to work for her sticky toddler.  

“Fuck,” Hunter mumbled.  

“Ma’am,” Lyn dared. “We’re about to go on break. We can’t help you right now, you’ll have to come back.” 

She looked up, shoulders huffing in exasperation. “What?! Your lunch is at 1:30! I checked the website.” 

“We have some extenuating circumstances,” Caleb offered.  

The countdown was at 0:59.  

“Ma’am,” Hunter persisted. “You really want to come back later.” 

She groaned in frustration, spitting back an “Okay, fine,” before taking her son by the hand and heading back through the store.  

0:43.  

Lyn was just behind Hunter, so the gunman couldn’t really see her, but knew where she was. She used the blind spot to get Kelly’s attention, glancing deliberately at the countdown to get across her question.  

Kelly held the answer up on her fingers.  

911 

0:28.  

Lyn could hear sirens. The wailing was getting closer and louder with every second, and Hunter twitched impatiently.  

They were so close. No one had been shot, nothing had been handed over the counter, if they could just... 

The gunman could hear the sirens too. He looked away for just a minute, and back toward the front doors of the stores and the wall of windows lit up with flashing blue and red. 

Hunter moved before anyone. He shifted to grab Lyn by the shoulders, daring to turn his back on the shooter long enough to throw her to the ground.  

In a matter of milliseconds, the gunman whipped back around, pulling the gun from the confines of his shirt and firing it off against where the pair had been standing just seconds before.  

Lyn’s head hit the floor and bounced, so hard her sight flashed white with pain. Hunter’s whole hulking frame landed right on top of her and knocked every bit of air from her chest so she couldn’t so much as scream. Kelly screamed instead and leapt beneath the counter and Caleb dropped to his knees.  

The bullet ricocheted off the bins and burrowed into the wood of the cabinet just next to the till. Plastic shattered at the impact and went flying off in shards. The prescription at the front of the bin was cracked and little white pills came spilling from the torn bag and clattered silently against the floor.  

Lyn closed her eyes as tight as she could, tears finally making it to her, and tried to remember to breathe, overly aware of every inch of Hunter’s shaking body holding her down.  

There was screaming, and fighting, and more roaring sirens, and an overall ridiculous amount of noise that Lyn could barely hear through her pounding pulse. The cops had gotten in, it seemed, and things were getting sorted, and she was going to leave that up to them.  

Hunter lifted his head from her stomach, elbows braced on either side of her hips so his hands could link behind his neck. He asked, “Are you okay?” but the chaos stole the sound. 

“I’m scared,” Lyn whispered.  

“Yeah,” he said. “Me too.” 

Lyn blinked heavily. Her head lolled to the side exhaustedly and rested against Hunter’s warm shoulder. 

He tipped his head against hers.  

She crossed her ankles and watched her feet swing over the asphalt, disappear under the ambulance, and come back again. The pattern was good; easy to watch and low energy.  

The EMTs said she had a concussion. She really wasn’t prepared to get body-slammed, and her head had taken most of the fall. Hunter, thank God, hadn’t seemed to torn up about it. Surely, he recognized a concussion was better than a gunshot wound. 

He was okay, for the most part. The EMT had joked that Lyn had been a good landing. 

Kelly and Caleb and Rich were in different ambulance bays, so she didn’t know what was happening with them. They had tried to take Hunter with them but something, whether it was her doing or his, had convinced them to keep them together, and she was immensely glad of it. 

Hunter was a jerk, nine times out of ten, but it could be counted on. He was constant. Consistent. Stable. The world was spinning around her, and she could grab Hunter and find some sort of balance.  

“Don’t go to sleep,” he whispered. “’s bad for your head.” 

“That’s a myth,” she mumbled back. “’s fine.” 

“I don’t think so.” 

“It is. I write about concussions all the time; I would know this.” 

“Okay.” 

He must’ve been tired, not to keep arguing that he was right. Instead, he muttered, “I should go check on Kelly.” 

Part of Lyn wanted desperately to protest, afraid that without him to lean on, she’d fall right out of the ambulance and face-down on the road, but the other piece of her knew he would never be satisfied until he had talked to Kelly, and probably Caleb while he was at it, and the two of them deserved a little bit of Hunter’s composure too. 

She sighed and lifted her head. “Please come back.” 

“I will.” 

He wadded up the shock blanket at he pushed himself to his feet and it slipped from his shoulders and set it next to her. He patted it awkwardly, then her leg, forcing a meant-to-seem reassuring smile. She returned it weakly. 

Hunter may have been gone for minutes, or hours, or just seconds, and she would never be sure. She swung her ankles and hummed to herself and tried very hard not to think about the way her hands shook at the sight of a gun. 

“Dylan!” 

She blinked slowly again, trying to find the caller. She knew who it was, would know the voice in death especially paired with her full name, and leaned forward a little to find her. 

“Mom!”  

Her mother took hold of her, pulling her face into her chest and holding it there like it would protect her from everything, sobbing all the while about “How worried she’d been!” and “Thank heavens, you’re alive!” and “You’re never going back!” among other things. Lyn nodded softly, nearly falling asleep against the softness of her shirt and the familiarity of the smell. She felt very much like a small child again and wanted someone to carry her to bed.  

“Are you okay?” Her dad asked, somehow appearing behind her mom, and all Lyn could think of for a moment was how different the question looked on his mouth than it had on Hunter’s. 

Eventually, she realized it was a question and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay. ‘m sleepy.” 

“I just can’t believe... of all the pharmacies in the world!”  

“I think I need to talk to the police,” Lyn said, the thought having just occurred to her because she couldn’t follow her mother’s train of thought. “They’re gonna interrogate me, right?” 

“No, you’re not the criminal,” Her dad corrected. “You’ll have to give a statement. I’ll ask about it.” 

“Okay,” she agreed, not comprehending what it meant, except that she didn’t need to worry about it anymore. 

“What did the EMTs say? What’s hurt? What have you taken?” 

“Concussion,” she echoed absently. “Tylenol. No NSAIDs.” 

“Concussion! How did you get a concussion?! Did he hit you?!” 

“Hunter did it,” she said simply. 

“What?!” 

Lyn didn’t recognize what was wrong until she realized the context- or lack thereof- of the statement. She relayed what happened, in very short, very simple sentences.  

“I told you he was a good friend,” she concluded after a minute, even though her mother had never doubted the fact. It felt nice to confirm it aloud anyway. 

She blinked some more, all sluggish and robotic, until finally she opened her eyes, and Hunter was back. 

“Hi!” 

“Hey,” he muttered, smoothing back her hair. “How’s it going?” 

She shrugged. “Basic day in the shitshow. At least I didn’t have to put Select Health on something.” 

He smiled despite himself.  

“Mom, this is... this is Hunter.” 

“Oh!” She cried, instantly grabbing him and nearly crushing him in a hug. “Oh, thank you!” 

He looked at Lyn, eyes all wide with panic, and she giggled that he was more expressive about that than the actual firearm.  

“I really can’t thank you enough. If something had happened to her! Oh, I can’t even think about it.” 

“She’s a little bruised up,” he admitted sheepishly. “I, uh, didn’t think that one through completely.” 

“’s okay,” Lyn mumbled. “I’m okay.” 

“They said you can go home. I’ll throw you a bone and let you leave early.” 

She giggled again- that was the only way to explain the strange, giddy sound that came from her mouth. “What about... everybody else? Who’s gonna finish deletes?” 

“We’re closing the pharmacy for the rest of the day. Everybody’s going home. But I’ll leave the deletes out until you can come back and finish them.” It was clear that he was teasing, but she found comfort in it anyway. 

“Okay.”  

Kelly, accompanied by her parents, was getting into a car. Caleb’s wife came running through the parking lot for him. No one came for Hunter. 

“What are you gonna do? Is your sister coming?” 

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, my sister’s coming.” 

“I can’t tell if you're lying.” 

He chuckled. “I’ll be fine, Lyn.” 

She frowned; eyebrows knit together. “My head hurts really bad, which is the only reason I don’t argue with you about it. Just promise me you won’t drive home.” 

“I won’t. Promise,” He mumbled earnestly. 

She examined his face for any trace of a lie, finally reaching over to pat his cheek in confirmation. “Okay. Be safe.” 

Lyn jumped from the ambulance bay and started walking, somewhat shakily toward her father, who was deep in conversation with an officer. She still had to give her statement, which must’ve been why she ended up standing there a good deal longer.  

Hunter watched for just a minute, finally ducking out between ambulances to where his car was still sitting. It was cold when he got in, even though it wasn’t that cold at all, and it sounded strange when he turned it on. His hand rested against the gearshift, as if he was ready to shift it to Drive, but he couldn’t seem to bring himself to do it. 

He promised. 

The phone was heavy in his hand, and his head was heavy in exhaustion. He leaned his head against the steering wheel and called. 

“Hunter...? 

“Hey, yeah, it’s me. I’m... can you...” he sighed. “I’m at Willablues. Can you come get me?” 

“Yeah... did something happen? Are you okay?” 

“There was... an incident. I’m not clear to drive.” 

“Yeah, I’ll come. You sure you’re okay?” 

Hunter hung up before she could hound him to answer. 

[the-other-bunny-girl]

︵‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿

Breakfast is served

Gummies

♡~ Multivitamin for Women with added biotin 2x

♡~ Omega-3 2x

♡~ B-12 1200mcg

♡~ Probiotic

♡~ Apple Cider Vinegar

Prescription Meds

♡~ Vitamin D 3000ui 3x

♡~ Metformin 500mg 2x

♡~ Anti babe pill

♡~ Trintellix 10mg

♡~ Wellbutrin XL 300mg

Bon appétit

...Down it with a 24oz water...

︵‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿

[initiala]

Late night “taking a cocktail of medications to figure out how to manage my new diagnoses and it’s making my filters go away” hours posting

So here’s why you shouldn’t take Ozempic for weight loss, from someone who has to take Metformin (another medicine people use for weight loss)

NUMBER ONE. Ozempic and Metformin are actually drugs for managing diabetes and preventing diabetes. You taking it for weight loss instead of doing the hard thing is making it scarce for people who actually need it for medical reasons. Same thing with people who take Adderall to “focus” for college. You’re making it hard for people with ADHD to access their medicine.

NUMBER TWO. It makes you shit liquid for weeks. I’m not even joking. Your shit will be diarrhea for weeks and that’s how the weight comes off. Your tummy will be upset the whole time. You will be miserable. I know this for a fact because I had to change which type of Metformin I took; the kind you take twice a day made me shit my pants multiple times because I trusted too many farts. SHITTING YOUR PANTS AS AN ADULT JUST TO BE SKINNIER IS NOT WORTH IT. DO NOT PAY THE PRICE. YOU WILL BE ON THE TOILET ALL THE TIME AND YOUR TUMMY WILL HURT ALWAYS AND YOU WILL NOT BE BRAVE ABOUT IT.

NUMBER THREE. If constantly shitting liquid wasn’t enough, Metformin is a fucking huge pill. Like it’s ridiculous. And Ozempic, from what I can tell, involves stabbing yourself in the stomach regularly for injections. Those are your options. Swallowing a big pill or stabbing yourself and hoping you know how to inject correctly.

NUMBER FOUR. Stop ordering medicine online without getting prescriptions from doctors, or “getting prescriptions from doctors” which are actually doctors who lost a license to practice but do this anyway because it’s easy money to get people addicted to drugs they don’t need.

[squishmelo]

I'm having such a weird time wrt weight rn. (neutral discussion)

Okay so, a list of facts --

I have fatty liver disease. Gaining weight can add fat to liver, as well as losing weight too fast. Too much fat added becomes cirrhosis, liver disease, which is irreversible. (But fatty liver can be reversed).

The first prescription for this is weight loss

But I know that there is no diet that works long term to lose weight and keep it off, especially if you go off the diet. Your weight just goes right back up. Meaning losing weight only to gain it back is worse for my liver but also worse for my heart than just staying fat.

Similar studies wrt exercise.

I am now losing weight without meaning to - my diet did change, and will stay that way forever - low saturated fat, higher fiber, higher protein- I went off certain meds, went up on other meds. But all of this has been a while ago.

Some medications (which I have been on and then stopped) can cause weight gain. Theoretically, going off of these medications could cause the weight loss...Increase in some meds (Metformin for blood sugar, which my docs want me on long term) can cause weight loss...

So i'm like.

Worried bc all those things that can affect weight happened months to years ago (tho affects might still have been in there or w.e, depo is a bitch), and I'm losing weight without meaning to (which could be a sign of not good things too tbf),

Worried i'll gain back because it will be worse for my health in the long run than maintaining

Worried that if it is a concern (Altho low chance of), nobody will look or care because they want me to lose weight anyways

Annoyed because I'm reverse growing out of clothes (LIKE MY CORSETS AND BRAS AND UNDERWEAR) and have to replace them and things are fitting weirdly and thats heaps money

Relieved because at the very least it's at a good rate of loss over time, and not super fast drop (which is worse for body)

Trying to keep my brain neutral when I've had disordered eating tendencies wrt weight loss, bc I dont want to tie my mental health to my weight, especially if I do gain back

Idk, I'm just confused, many of my friends have problems with weight discussion so I can't talk to them, doctors (even well meaning ones) aren't going to be neutral because of what they're taught, despite studies to the contrary...Yeah. Idk.

[cannabiscomrade]

Are you still ttc? Or did you stop/consider other options? And if so, what kind of advice do you have to someone struggling to conceive?

We are not TTC at this time, I’m on Phexxi birth control because I can’t take hormonal birth control. We can’t afford another pregnancy/child at the moment.

We are considering IUI in the future possibly, because all of the funds we had saved up for IVF have gone to my medical care in the past year. I also don’t know what the future of IVF looks like in the US after the Alabama ruling.

Obligatory I AM NOT A MEDICAL PROVIDER just someone who has been TTC for a long time

I have a few pieces of advice:

Surround yourself with people going through similar journeys. If you need LGBT specific groups, FB is a good place to start. TTC and struggling is such an emotional thing to go through and it’s one of the most difficult things my spouse and I have dealt with. You’re not alone.

Try not to schedule sex if you’re conceiving this way. We tried the SMEP method for a while and it added a lot of unnecessary pressure and stress on my spouse.

Make sure whoever is involved in the conception has had at least had basic fertility screening. The gestational prospective parent should have a fertility panel like FSH, TSH, estrogen, androgens, etc tested. If the other parent or a sperm donor is contributing sperm/semen, you can get inexpensive tests that analyze sperm count at the pharmacy. However they can’t tell you the health and motility of the sperm. OBGYNs and MFMs offer pre-conception counseling that usually includes testing.

I’ve heard a lot of people have success with at-home insemination kits, but do your research! There are also cups that work like menstrual cups that can keep sperm near the cervix, and I actually like those a lot.

If you’re like me with PCOS, prescription metformin has really helped regulate my cycle. I also took myo-inositol while I was TTC. ANECDOTALLY I have developed a large cyst on my ovary since stopping inositol.

If you’re under 35 and have been trying for over a year, the recommendation is to schedule an OBGYN visit. If you’re 35-40, 6 months is the recommendation, and over 40 consult right away.

Clue has been a really great tracker app that I’ve used for years. They have TTC and typical menstruation modes, and a pregnancy mode. Their servers are outside the US and cannot be affected by US subpoena requests. They are gender neutral and very accurate in their ovulation predictions, even with my irregular cycle. They’ve tracked me through TTC, miscarriages and my stillbirth.

[limeade-l3sbian]

Would’ve you be willing to post this or tack on a screenshot to the post?

Re: PCOS anon

I know most Obg’s will act like the only levers that you have are diet and hormonal birth control, but that is just not true. Medication, PT, imaging, and environmental hazard assessment all have a place.

OTC: Vitex (cycled), inistol, Methylated b vitamins, and supplementing fiber (because of how the body processes out excess hormones) are all interventions that show serious promise in research for PCOS, but they aren’t profitable enough, and women’s health isn’t taken seriously enough, for them to have PR. They are listed from moderate to super low risk here.

Rx: Prescription meds like metformin can also affect the chemical cascade. The right endocrinologist asking for the right images can help so much. PCOS is a syndrome and that means that the diagnosis doesn’t come with a cause. There are at least three known mechanisms, you want a doctor who is interested in finding, and treating, yours.

Hazards: Women’s bodies more vulnerable to skin-contact endocrine disruption because of the differences in our skins, and a system in a PCOS crisis is even more sensitive. Receipts, synthetic fabrics, and bathing in compromised water all puts stress on our filter organs and hormonal regulation. Some people’s system handles that extra work no problem, but some don’t. Wearing gloves if you work in a cashier position can make a huge difference. Making sure your sheets and undergarments are cotton, even it’s not as soft, can help. Something as small as filtering your water source, and cutting back pre-made sodas and teas that tend to have poorly regulated water sources, can help calm a sensitized endocrine system enormously.

I promise there’s hope.

💜

[ceridwyn2]

New Diagnosis

Thoughts for the day (12 July 2023)

So yesterday I went to see my Nurse Practitioner for a belated appointment - missed the last one. Went through some of the bloodwork as my sugars have been elevated for a while so now I have a diagnosis of Type II Diabetes. In a way it’s not surprising - both my parents have the same diagnosis. I’d been losing weight (~15lbs) in 6 months without trying. My NP has put me on Metformin (250mg twice a day to start for 2 weeks, then 500mg twice a day), and testing sugars 2-3 times a day to get an idea of what time of day my sugars are spiking.

I picked up the meds and the Diabetic supplies (monitor, lancets, test strips, sharps container) and started them yesterday. Have the monitor syncing to my phone so I can more easily track testing. I’m so used to having regular sodas and the like (sweet tooth), so I’ve started trying limit sugar intake - body not used to that, bit of a shock to the system. And I can’t drink diet sodas because of the aspartame - I’m allergic - it triggers migraines. So not only a change in dietary intake needed, a new mindset is needed. Will see how this goes.

I also got some more pain prescription medication (Naproxen 500mg) for carpal tunnel syndrome to take on an as needed basis when I have flare-ups.

[living400lbs]

Hi insurer,

Yes, I'm prescribed metformin for insulin resistance.

No, I do not have diabetes. Please stop offering diabetes coaching, new blood glucose meters, and other such "assistance". My A1c is "normal". My fasting blood glucose is "normal". Those are better answers to "does this person have diabetes" than my weight or prescriptions.

[chronicallyjude]

So fucking disappointed in my doctors office this week, not only did I not see the doctor I made the appointment with I instead saw nutrition who I was not interested in seeing and then some schmuck who talked about insulin instead of metformin even though I can not afford insulin and didn't discuss the reason I was there.

I'm supposed to come back next week to see the OB again and I found out they also scheduled another nutritionist appointment (without asking ) so likely I want be seeing the OB this time either! Not to mention I have yet to see my primary even though thats who I've been requesting, its always someone new who doesn't even read my charts.

And now I found out they've sent in a prescription for chewable aspirin which I can't take and have not even told me why I would be taking? I'm so fucking mad I spent an hour crying before my partner came home and I could talk to him.