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#this time it's parental consent for emergency room treatment
crumbleclub · 1 year
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i am gonna know so much random information about guidelines and bureaucratic processes in 1980s Utah as this fic goes on
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angellesword · 4 months
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BAGGAGE | JJK (04)
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Summary: Drowning in debt and blood, Jeon Jungkook knows he's better off alone, lest he brings people down with him.
But one drunken night changes everything.
In a blink of an eye, Jungkook found himself drowning not only in debt and blood, but also in dirty diapers and judgmental stares from you, a.k.a his long-lost love and the guardian of the son he didn't even know existed.
Genre and warnings: best friends to lovers, co-parenting, idiots in love, mutual pining, angst, fluff, implied smut, kissing, minor character death, slight getting back together, oc cusses excessively, dubcon, pregnancy kink, child cussing, reckless driving, suicide justification, glorifying suicide, semi-drunk Jungkook makes sexual moves on a sober oc.
Pairing: dad!Jungkook x adoptive mom!Reader
Word Count: 3.8k
←Previous Chapter (03) | Next Chapter (05) →
***
Present; 2023
Not long after you and Soobin finished your meal at ADA, you finally received the call you had been anticipating since last night:
A call from Jungkook.
“Hello?” Your breathing hitched as you waited for the person on the other line to speak. Unfortunately, what welcomed you was an unfamiliar voice telling you she was from the General Hospital.
Your heart dropped. You stuttered when you asked the person on the other line about what had happened.
The hospital staff explained, “Mr. Jeon is alive but has been stabbed. Your number is the only one saved on his cellphone. Will you mind coming over or telling us who we can contact—”
“No. I’m coming.” You cut off. You couldn’t remember what you said to the nurse after that. Your mind was floating as you grabbed your keys, eyes darting on Soobin, who was watching TV in the living room.
“Ma?” Soobin blinked; a groan escaped his lips when you carried him. You were inside the car with him in the blink of an eye.
“Sorry, darling. We’ll go out again, okay? Hold on tight.”
You drove your car to the hospital at a very high speed. Soobin didn’t cry, but the poor boy looked shaken and about to vomit. You could only tighten your hold on your son and murmur an apology as you ran to the hospital desk. You didn’t know how to explain the situation to Soobin, as your attention was solely directed at Jungkook.
“I’m looking for Jungkook Jeon. How is he?” You were breathless when you talked to the nurse.
“Good day, Mam. Per the hospital’s protocol, I need your name first. Please state your relationship with the patient as well.” The nurse was calm and collected. Her eyes were trained on the monitor before her.
You stated your name but trailed off after. You wanted to say you were Jungkook’s friend, but were you and Jungkook even considered that? Besides, hospitals would prioritize the patient’s next of kin over friends.
To your surprise, the nurse nodded at you, “You’re listed as Mr. Jeon’s emergency contact. He needs surgery as soon as possible. We will need your consent.”
You could be accused of being dumbfounded, but you didn’t have time to assess your reactions. You signed all relevant forms and requested the hospital to give Jungkook VIP treatment.
No one knew what happened to the Jungkook. He was simply lucky to be able to call for help before he passed out. Jungkook suffered multiple stab wounds. Lee Sung clearly didn’t hold back when he pierced and slashed the knife into the Jungkook’s body. As a result, the surgery took some time to finish.
Jungkook was unconscious on the operating table, his body taking all the trauma while his mind drifted to a place and time where everything was still right:
Nine Years Ago; 2014
To say Jungkook was obsessed with your stomach would be an understatement. Don’t get it wrong. He was obsessed with every part of your body: hips, chest, hands—you name it, and Jungkook would read you his essay about it.
But lately, all the Jungkook could think about was your stomach.
“Can I fucking help you?” You growled, unable to take the intensity of Jungkook’s ogling anymore.
Jungkook didn’t bat an eyelash, though. His gaze only deepened, a sigh leaving his lips. “Say, how many calories do you consume daily?”
“Hah!?” You looked down at your stomach, feeling self-conscious all of a sudden. “What shit are you up to, bastard!? Do you think my stomach is big!?”
First of all, you didn’t think there was anything wrong with a big stomach, or a flat stomach, for that matter. However, something about Jungkook’s words hit your nerve.
A bastard like Jungkook wouldn’t say things out of the blue. Usually, it entailed trouble.
“No.” Jungkook shook his head, still looking pensive while staring at the middle part of your body. “I’m just curious.”
“Keep your curiosity to yourself, then. I don’t know. I don’t count my calorie intake. I have more important things to do than that.” You were in the middle of writing your thesis paper. Frankly, your time was constrained. All you did these days was attend classes, meet with your thesis adviser, and write your paper.
You couldn’t be bothered to sleep anymore. Now that Jungkook kept hinting something was wrong with your stomach, you couldn’t help but add an extra hour of jogging.
“Hey, sweetheart~” You bumped into Jungkook one morning. You lived on campus, but Jungkook would be moving out soon. He recently informed you he’d be taking some time off college. During this time, you had no idea that his decision to take some time off studying would be permanent. Jungkook wasn’t just taking a break—he was dropping out.
“Why are you out here so early? I thought you were taking a break this semester. No more 7am classes for you, eh?” You taunted. Seeing your best friend up so early in the morning was rare. Jungkook even called you crazy before for running around the university’s field at five in the morning.
“Jimin-hyung and I had breakfast. I’m on my way to your dorm, actually. I got you something to eat,” by something to eat, Jungkook meant different kinds of high-calorie food—courtesy of Jimin’s recommendations.
“Here,” Jungkook gave you the food he got. He sighed after, “How many minutes have you been exercising?”
Here he goes again. Your fist clenched when Jungkook glanced at your stomach. What the fuck was wrong with this bastard!?
“Jungkook-shit!” You snarled, ‘Jungkook-shit’ was your favorite insult--a variation of your usual ‘Jungkook-ssi.’ You confirmed your guess by checking the logo where Jungkook got your breakfast: Healthy option. “I’ll squeeze in another hour of running tomorrow, okay! You don’t have to be a bastard about it!”
Your face was red, your nose flaring.
“That’s not—”
“Whatever! I’m fucking leaving.”
Jungkook was too slow to catch up to an angry version of you, so he let it go and simply shrugged his shoulders.
Unfortunately, Jungkook was still an asshole about your weight the next time you two met. You were supposed to have lunch together but walked out when Jungkook commented about your clothes.
“You are wearing a cropped top.” Jungkook’s eyes shrunk, voice laced with disappointment.
“What’s wrong with it?”
“It shows your stomach. I—”
“You know what? Fuck you.” You couldn’t help but bare your teeth. You had been friends with Jungkook-shit for as long as you could remember. You loved him to death but wouldn’t take his dumbassery lying down. Comments about one’s body were never okay.
“I’m sick of you side-eyeing my stomach. I don’t think I wanna be friends with an ass like you anymore. Goodbye. I’m leaving!”
You left and never once showed your face to Jungkook again. Thinking about your fragile friendship hurt, so you drowned yourself in school stuff instead.
You rarely left your dorm, spending almost all your time writing your paper and ignoring Jungkook’s phone calls.
But Jungkook-shit was persistent; one evening, he came knocking on your dorm.
“Hey! Open the door! I need to see you!”
As much as you wanted to ignore him, you knew you couldn’t. Students were studying next door, so you opened the door with great reluctance.
“What—”
Jungkook crashed against your chest.
“—the fuck.” You almost lost your footing. Thankfully, you were able to grab the door frame to steady yourself. You snarled and wrapped your arms around Jungkook’s tiny waist.
“Bastard! Why are you here!? You reek of alcohol! Are you drunk!?”
Your jaw slackened; you weren’t sure if it was because you didn’t want to deal with a drunken bastard or if you were bitter since you couldn’t drink along with this drunken bastard.
You hadn’t had alcohol in a long time. Damn school.
“Hi, sweetheart~” Jungkook raised his head slightly, batting his eyelashes seductively at you.
You gulped thickly. Your grip on Jungkook’s waist tightened. “Don’t ‘hi sweetheart’ me. You’re drunk. You need to go home.”
“But!!!” Jungkook snickered. “I’m not drunk. I only had one glass of whiskey. Jimin-hyung insisted I drink. You know I can’t say no to him. He’s my favorite person.”
You ignored the stone crushing your heart. You brushed Jungkook’s fringe like you were brushing your hurt away. “Your face is sweaty. Did you run here?”
Because you weren’t heartless, you let Jungkook in and even helped him to your bed. You originally wanted your best friend to lie down first as you prepared some soup. However, Jungkook pulled you to bed with him.
“Oi, bastard! Let go!” You wrestled with him, but you couldn’t get away from his suffocating embrace.
Jungkook wrapped his legs around your body. He also buried his face in your neck.
“Stay here. I miss you. I miss you so much it hurts,” Jungkook let out a whiny sob. “Please stay for a while, alright? I just want to tell you how my day went.”
Jungkook had never been this clingy and vulnerable before. He was only like this when drunk. 
But he really wasn’t drunk, at least not with alcohol or drugs. It was on something else--something good--a spark of joy.
You couldn’t help but coo.
“Okay,” you betrayed yourself. “Fine. You can talk. Tell me why you’re like this. Did something happen?”
“Yes. Something happened.” Jungkook’s eyelashes fluttered. “Jimin-hyung and I drank to celebrate. We are starting a business to help people! Me and Jimin—”
Jungkook abruptly stopped talking. He looked deep in thought. After a few seconds, he shook his head and smiled, “I will make those kids proud.”
Your heart swelled with joy upon hearing that. Jungkook never talked about himself, rarely using the word ‘I’ to express his feelings, but today, he really proclaimed a promise using that pronoun.
For the first time, Jungkook looked alive.
“What kids are you talking about, Jungkook-shit?” You asked as softly as you could, hoping your best friend would spill more.
But Jungkook sometimes had selective hearing, not to mention he was a bit tipsy. He only heard the word ‘kid’ from you.
He giggled; his hand roamed your body. “Kids,” Jungkook’s tone was sultry. You could feel his hot breath on your neck.
“I want to have kids,” Jungkook announced as his hand made its way to cup under your clothes—he was caressing your stomach.
You inhaled sharply.
“I want you to carry my baby.” Jungkook’s lips puckered, “I want to put a baby in your tummy. Why hasn’t your stomach grown yet?”
Oh. You thought. Heat crawled up to your face as the sudden realization hit you like a ton of bricks:
Jungkook looking at your stomach...  Jungkook asking about your calorie intake...  Jungkook saw your flat stomach when you wore that cropped top...
What the fuck.
“I want to see your stomach grow like a balloon.” Jungkook stroked your tummy, his hand moving up to flick at your nipples. “These too. Wanna see them grow heavy with milk. Our baby and I can share—”
“Shut up!” you couldn’t take such lewd words from a shitty mackerel. He pushed Jungkook’s chest. “You...you don’t even like kids! You are just--!!”
You didn’t know what to say. You tried to ignore the warmth spreading to your belly down to your groin. Jungkook had always been good at dirty talking. You knew because it was mainly directed at you.
You and Jungkook were best friends who helped each other in many ways, including pleasuring each other’s bodies.
You had never done more than oral sex, though. You were easily flustered and oh so very easy to please. With a few touches here and there, coupled with dirty talk, you would be coming all over Jungkook’s mouth and hands.
“Why’re you pushing me away? Come, let me hug you.” Jungkook pulled you to his chest. “You want it, don’t you? Don’t you dare lie. I saw your face. You want to have my baby too.”
You shivered, your breathing labored. You didn’t consider yourself weak, but when it came to Jungkook? You couldn’t say the same thing.
“Admit it. You want me too. Wan  me to fill you up with my cum, yeah?”
Of fucking course you do. You swallowed hard, gripping your best friend’s shirt as you whispered, “I fucking do. But not now. I want you 100% sober, Kook. See if you can repeat those words tomorrow.”
Jungkook licked his lower lip and hummed, “Mn, I always want you.”
Present; 2023
Jungkook peeled his eyes open.
Everything hurt. It was hard to move. It didn’t help that all his eyes landed were white. It hurt his eyes.
Right. Before all this white was black—his world turned into darkness when Lee Sung drove that knife to his stomach.
Jungkook blinked. The words stomach triggered memories from the past, a memory that disguised itself into a long dream.
Before Jungkook woke up, he dreamed about you and his selfish desire for you to carry his child.
Jungkook’s shoulders slumped; an overwhelming sense of sorrow settled at the pit of his stomach. But he was startled to see a small child staring blankly at him.
He tilted his head to the side. Huh? Why was there a kid in his hospital room?
“Hey, kid,” Jungkook held back his flinch for the sake of his aching stomach wound. The boy gave Jungkook the creeps; his irises were pitch black, and he wouldn’t stop staring dumbly at him. 
“Where are your parents? Did your daddy accidentally lose you?” Dads are the worst.
Jungkook had to hold another flinch when the kid answered his question with a cutthroat gesture: his little fingers were slitting through his neck, causing Jungkook to furrow his brow. Seriously, what was wrong with this kid?
“What’s your name? How old are you?” Jungkook enquired. Could this kid have lost his way and accidentally entered his hospital room? And speaking of room, Jungkook felt his fingers turning colder.
Who in the right mind would confine him in a VIP room!? Didn’t the hospital check his identity first? Didn’t they know Jungkook couldn’t afford this kind of service!?
“Name Soobin, twee yess och.”
You know what else Jungkook couldn’t afford? Listening to Soobin talk.
“Did you say three?” Jungkook pressed his lips into a thin line as he crossed his arms, “Huh. You’re three, and you still talk gibberish?”
The boy seemed to recognize the taunt painting Jungkook’s voice. He folded his little arms across his chest, his lips protruding into a sulky pout: “Am not dumb.”
For some reason, Jungkook’s heart softened at the look of this kid. He was so adorable that Jungkook couldn’t help but let out a hearty laugh—even when it hurt his stomach. “You even know the word dumb, huh?”
The child couldn’t speak straight but could read one’s expression. When he saw the mirth in Jungkook’s eyes, he thought it was an invitation for him to flex the words he knew.
“Stupid.” The kid uttered. “Fuck.”
“Hey! You can pronounce those words perfectly. Attaboy~.” Jungkook’s eyes glistened in awe, making the kid happy. Soobin slightly tucked his chin and relished the praise of a stranger. However, the feeling of triumph didn’t last long, as Jungkook quickly realized his mistake.
“I mean...no! Bad boy. Don’t say those words. Your mom is going to be mad at you.”
Soobin was similar to Jungkook. He could twist his expression in a second, too. His twinkling eyes immediately went back to being impassive.
Jungkook’s lips partly opened in shock. He narrowed his eyes at the kid, “What? Don’t tell me your mom is dead, too?”
Soobin made that cutthroat gesture earlier. Jungkook just assumed it meant his father died. The kid probably didn’t know what that action symbolized. Soobin didn’t seem to like what Jungkook had said, though. He creased his forehead, ready to throw his fist at Jungkook when the door suddenly flew open.
Soobin’s attention switched to that. His eyes glowed, “Ma!” And then he scurried toward the newcomer.
Jungkook followed Soobin’s movement, his eyes glowing when he saw the person who opened the door.
Soobin’s ‘ma’ was--
“Soobin,” --you. You opened your arms wide, ready to catch the small boy in your arms. Soobin jumped right in, squeezing your shoulders into an embrace.
“Ma! Not dead!” Soobin rubbed his cheek against your cheek, causing your lips to pucker. Soobin was squeezing too hard.
“Soobin,” You chuckled awkwardly as goosebumps pricked at your skin. Someone was ogling at you. You had been accustomed to this feeling since you were subjected to it nine years ago.
You looked at Jungkook’s bed, breath taken away from your lungs upon seeing your ex-best friend awake.
“You’re awake.” You made your way to Jungkook’s bed. You were about to press the nurse call button when a cold hand grasped your wrist.
“Don’t call anyone. I’m fine.” Jungkook said with a nasal voice.
“Okay.” You conceded. You wanted to say many things but didn’t know where to start. Jungkook had already met Soobin while you weren’t around. You never meant for this to happen. The nurse said Jungkook was supposed to wake up sometime later, but he woke up earlier than expected.
It wasn’t a bad thing, no—not really. Your heart was actually calmer now that Jungkook had opened his eyes. Gone was the feeling of standing on a precipice with the fear of falling down. You had retreated to a safer distance now that Jungkook was awake.
“How are you feeling?” You licked your lower lip, “The nurse called me. She said you’ve been stabbed. What happened?”
Jungkook was bombarded with questions. He didn’t know what to say, but it’s not like he didn’t see this coming. It was his fault. He was the one who saved your number on his phone the night you met. He was weak then. He allowed himself to hope that fate would make a move even if he didn’t.
He was also the one who never changed his emergency contact, even after everything that transpired. You left, but Jungkook never moved on.
Jungkook cleared his throat, eyes darting on the kid in your arms. An uncomfortable feeling settled at the pit of his stomach.
“Is…” Jungkook swallowed, “Is he your kid?”
You avoided the other man’s gaze. You looked like you wanted to avoid the question, so you did that.
“I asked you a question first.”
You had this face that said, ‘You won’t get a response from me if you don’t tell me things first.’ Jungkook usually teased you until you relented, but he felt that was not the case anymore.
“And I already told you I’m fine.” Jungkook didn’t want to make a big deal out of the situation. It was already bad enough.
But you begged to differ.
“And I asked you what happened. You can’t get stabbed and just ignore it, Jungkook.”
The image of Lee Sung’s mocking grin made Jungkook shiver. He really didn’t want to think about that bastard today—or ever.
Jungkook gave a dismissive wave, “I’m fine, aren’t I? No point in dwelling in the past.”
“Then I guess you won’t know who this kid is to me.”
Jungkook’s head snapped to meet your fiery gaze.
“Fine.” He scoffed. “I did it to myself, alright? I’m the culprit. What are you gonna do about it?”
The idea was to tease you back until you stopped with your query. Jungkook had no intention of divulging the truth as it was too humiliating. Pride was the only thing he had in this lifetime.
But to Jungkook’s disappointment, his response only ignited your anger and curiosity. You snapped at him, “Oi, Jungkook. Are you kidding me?”
Something about your expression riled up Jungkook. Yes, that’s it. That’s the face I want to see. Show me you care, but don’t you dare come closer. I’m not letting you in.
“You and I both know I don’t joke about this thing.” Jungkook blinked at you innocently. “I’ve wanted to die for a long time.”
“Fuck you.” you spat. Soobin’s ears perked up. He raised his hands and repeated your words:
“Fuck you.”
“Soobin, cover your fucking ears!” You snapped, a fraction of your anger directed at the small child in your arms. Soobin was not a pushover, unlike Jungkook. He recognized the thunder in your voice. Soobin immediately covered his ears.
You directed your fury back to Jungkook again. Your eyes and tone were both sharp. “You haven’t changed after all these years, huh? You’re still nothing but a fucking coward.”
Jungkook’s eyes darkened, yet he didn’t speak. It prompted you to voice out your pain.
“You’re still a coward who can’t face his problems, only relying on suicide to ease your fucking pain. Guess what, Jungkook-shit. Trying to kill yourself doesn’t end the pain!” It only exemplifies it, passing the hurt to those left behind.
Jungkook’s breathing quickened. He looked at you with wide eyes; his thoughts earlier of not letting you in felt like a resounding slap now.
That’s not true. Jungkook screamed in his head. You didn’t understand him. No one did. 
Suddenly, it wasn’t about what Lee Sung did to him or his lies to shut you up. It moved around Jungkook’s suppressed feelings.
It was unfair, wasn’t it? Everyone thought suicide was the easy way out. But honestly, it was Jungkook’s last resort. He had tried everything before: sleep it off, think happy thoughts, and wait it out. Maybe fate wanted to test him, but why did it still hurt the same after many years? Why did the burden in his heart not lessen an ounce? In fact, it only weighed more.
People thought it was selfish of him to end his life because he wouldn’t be here to deal with the aftermath.
But what about before the aftermath? What about those difficult times when his heart hurt so much that he couldn’t breathe? When the voices in his head were so loud he couldn’t make them shut up?
Those left behind deal with the aftermath but not what happened before that.
People didn’t know because they were also busy dealing with their own pain.
Your eyes were red. You glared at Jungkook, “I hate you so much, shitty Jungkook. Jisoo-unnie was wrong. You’re not a good person. You’re an asshole. She shouldn’t have trusted you. She shouldn’t have made me promise to return here in Incheon to tell you all about Soobin.”
Your embrace of Soobin tightened. “Because you know what? You don’t deserve Soobin. You don’t deserve to be his father. Fuck you.”
This scene was eerily familiar to Jungkook. He watched as you turned your back on him, aiming for the exit with no intention of ever returning.
***
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A/N: Comments are highly appreciated! Please leave some :)
I've written multiple Jungkook fics, you might want to check that out!
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woso-fan13 · 1 year
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Sicktember 2023: 15 (USWNT)
Sick in an Inconvenient Place
Your career was at an all time high. You would say it was peaking, but it seemed to get better everyday. You had millions of followers on social media, you were a brand ambassador for countless companies, you were constantly starting for the national team, you were on a freaking Wheaties box. To top all of that off, you weren’t old enough to legally drink or rent a car. 
Your days were stressful, to say the least, but that was to be expected. You would wake up before the sun rose to have time to run and get a few hours of unofficial practice before you had to go to the stadium for actual practice. You would then train with the team, recover, and then do assorted media/brand commitments in the late afternoon. After that, it was time for a quick dinner before a final run for the night. Then a shower, pajamas on, and into bed where you would update social media and respond to any messages. A few hours of sleep and you were up the next morning to do it again. 
It was exhausting, but it was necessary. If you wanted to be the best, it was necessary. At this place in your career, there’s no time to take a break.
So you continued. Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months, and your sacrifices became worth it as you could see your career growing. You were unstoppable. 
—-
You were not unstoppable, you soon found out. You didn’t wake up at your usual time, you must have been exhausted the night before and forgot to set an alarm. Despite the extra hours of sleep, you felt a bone-deep tiredness unlike anything you had felt before. 
Every muscle in your body hurts. As you moved to grab your phone off your nightstand, you were barely able to lift it. Your arm was shaking with the effort it took. 
You tried to power through these changes, forcing yourself out of bed and into the bathroom. You ignored the fact that your pee could have easily passed as tea, but the feeling in your chest made you stop. It felt like your heart was fluttering. 
You knew not to take any problems with your heart lightly, so you called your doctor’s office to try and schedule an appointment for that day. The very lovely nurse on the phone had informed you that there were no appointments available until the week after next before she asked you what your current symptoms were. As you listed them off, you heard the line go quiet for a few moments. 
Then, she was telling you to get to the emergency room. 
—-
As soon as you mentioned the problem with your heart, you were immediately seen. Once they ruled out a heart attack, they calmed down, but continued to leave you hooked up to a monitor as they completed various tests. You allowed your eyes to close as you waited for results. 
You awoke to someone standing in front of your face with a packet of papers and a pen. You listened as she rushed through an explanation of your condition- rhabdomyolysis, something you would have to research later. You weren’t fully paying attention until you saw her pass over a stack of consent forms. 
She walked through them with you, explaining everything. With each new form, you could feel panic rising. The first form was for admission to the hospital- not ideal, but okay. The second form was for admission to the intensive care unit. At this, your eyes shot up. 
You listened to an explanation on how your electrolyte levels were so unstable that you were at extremely high risk for cardiac irregularities and cardiac arrest, so you needed to be closely monitored. You were so focused on this that you didn’t notice as she continued talking about liver and kidney damage. 
The next few hours passed in a blur as you were transported to a private room in the ICU. Seemingly, your career successes caused you to get labeled as a vip, meaning you bypassed some of the rules. Normally, you would protest any special treatment, but you felt like you deserved nicer blankets if you would be staying in the hospital. 
You called your parents, sure that they would be made aware of it soon enough. They were concerned, but you reassured them that you were okay. You made it a point not to tell any of your teammates, knowing that they would freak out. 
By the time the sun went down, you were so exhausted that you fell asleep. You slept through the night, unaware of the constant medication adjustments and lab tests. 
—-
You woke up the next morning to the entire united states’s women’s national team crowded into the room. Several people were crammed into couches, asleep. Others had pulled chairs up around your bed, some of whom remained awake. They noticed your eyes opening. 
It was silent as you woke up, a competition to see who would speak first. Eventually, you broke, speaking a quiet,
“Sorry.” 
You were quickly stopped from apologizing and reassured that nobody was mad at you. What followed was an hour-long lecture about setting limits and not pushing yourself too far. 
Thankfully, the lecture was stopped when the door opened. A familiar head peaks in, a look of relief crossing their face. She pushes fully into the room, walking over to wrap you in a hug. 
“Oh, Y/N/N, I’m so glad you’re okay.”
“Me too, Mally. Are you doing alright?”
“Me?” she responds, sounding shocked, “you’re in an intensive care unit of a hospital. And you’re asking about me?”
You just shrug, a small smile on your face, “I really missed you.”
She leans down to pull you into another hug, squeezing tightly. You returned the hug similarly.
She pulls back, looking around the room. As you do the same, you realize that there are no empty chairs left. Painfully, you scoot to one half of the bed, motioning for her to join you. 
“I don’t think that’s allowed,” she says, shaking her head. 
“It’s fine, what are they going to do?” you respond, “they’re not going to kick me out to die on the street.”
Mal rolls her eyes before climbing in next to you. She wraps her arm around you, pulling you to rest against her. Your body relaxes, slumping against her. 
It’s silent in the room for a few minutes before Mal leans over to grab the bag she left on the side table. She rummages through it for just a second before pulling out a worn book. Looking at it, you recognize it as the one she had read last camp and had been begging you to read. 
She allows you to settle again, as you had been slightly displaced by her movement. Once both of you are comfortable, she opens to the first chapter. She begins reading- loud enough for the people in the room to hear, but quiet enough to be soothing. 
You allow yourself to be transported out of the hospital bed and into the fictional world, joining the characters as Mal describes them. 
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megamindsupremacy · 2 years
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Misc Marvel Fic Recs (Part 5)
Say you don’t know me (or recognize my face) by showmeahero
Daredevil is kind of dark and broody. He doesn't want anyone to know his real name, he never smiles, and he has kind of a loner attitude.
Matt Murdock, on the other hand, is completely unrecognizable to Jessica the first time she really sees him.
-
I’ll build a house inside of you by magdaliny
Natalia is stacking blocks very carefully when the adults come into the room. None of them look at her, because they're all looking at her father. He's wearing combat gear, and the hair on the left side of his head is slicked back with blood. He smells like smoke and something unnameable, sweet and dark and a little sickly in her nose.
Father is saying, “Don't be ridiculous. The only thing children are good at is disobeying.”
-
Night nurse by whichry9
Danny's the one who sets up and funds the clinic, but Claire's the one who's there night in and night out, patching up those stupid superheroes.
-
Coming Home by longforgottenhymn
Fury doesn't missuse the pager - not in his own opinion. Though, he has to admit, sometimes he and Carol have different views on what counts as an emergency.
And then there's the times they agree.
-
Galactic Response Time by SassySnowperson
All the OTHER times Nick Fury texted Carol Danvers.
May 4th, 2012
Get your ASS over here there is an INVASION. Aliens are coming out of the SKY HELP US
May 10th, 2012
"Invasion, Fury, the word you used was invasion! I made it across three quarters of the galaxy in six days! Where are the aliens?"
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Exclamation, Question, Statement, Command by shipNslash
As a child, Foggy Nelson is diagnosed with a rare, terminal brain disease. Thankfully, a team of scientists is working on an experimental treatment. Foggy bonds with another boy in the trial, Kevin Thompson, whose parents are both doctors. This sets Foggy and Kevin's lives on a path that neither of them would have ever imagined….
Two decades later, Nelson Fogwell, his friend Marci Stahl, and his fiance Matt Murdock are running a “thriving” law office when a Miss Jessica Jones knocks on their door. She's out to stop a man going by the name of Kilgrave and she's looking for his childhood companion that she thinks might be able to help.
A mind-control!Foggy AU with generous helpings of fluff and angst.
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the identity crisis of one nicholas j fury by sevenfoxes
“… And you should really get your cat spayed,” Earl says smugly, staring at Goose who is resting a few feet away, licking her paw.
Shit.
Goose eats Earl. Nick files an incident report and takes Goose to the lab to wait for her to barf up Earl because Nick is tired of replacing the accent rug in his office. Finance has gotten really stingy with the office budget lately, and Goose’s cat-flerken vomit reeks.
HR assigns Goose her own incident code and installs a BEWARE OF CAT sign on Nick's office door under his nameplate. Earl stops offering unsolicited advice, and Nick buys Goose one of the new expensive horizontal scratching posts that looks like a wave.
Goose looks way too pleased with herself.
--
All the things Goose has eaten and the all the things people have called Nicholas J. Fury, with or without his consent.
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Scrambled by ForgedObsidian
The first message Fury sends Carol is . . . unexpected, in a variety of ways.
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Everyday Superhero by stoneage_woman
When a field trip to Stark Industries ends in disaster, Roger Harrington finds himself faced with an impossible choice. Suddenly, Tony Stark is shoving an NDA in his face while Peter Parker stares at him with terrified, desperate eyes. Nothing in his 13-year teaching career could have prepared Harrington for this, but he knows one thing for sure: ten years ago, he'd stared down into the sightless eyes of a seventeen-year-old girl, and he'd sworn to himself that he would never again lose another student. He's going to do everything in his power to keep that promise now…even if it costs him everything.
Set during and post Spider-Man Homecoming. A realistic field trip story that also explores the long-term consequences of trauma and responsibility, written by a real-life teacher.
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What is the Lifespan of a Flerken? by csmithman
The intertwined lives of Nick Fury, agent of SHIELD, and Goose, Flerken. How did these two spend the years between Captain Marvel and Infinity War?
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this one goes out to all the children of the stars by GrimRevolution
Sometimes it takes space to teach the lessons we all need: that light continues endlessly even after its source is gone, that each breath is a measure of the infinite, and that, in all the miracles of the universe, matter came together to create you.
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shannonlynnin · 8 months
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Ethical Issues in Therapy
When reading about “ethical issues related to multiple relationships in counseling practice,” I can't help but look back on my own childhood.
It is unethical for a therapist to accept the treatment of a child who they have a personal relationship with the parents. Informed consent is necessary or it becomes an ethical matter. Confidentiality is imperative when working with clients and making them feel safe. If a client does not feel safe enough to disclose information to the therapist, there is blatantly no therapist and client centered relationship. The therapist has a moral obligation to the client to refer them out to another therapist. 
At 14 years old, I was a Baker Acted. I woke up in the hospital with my family by my side, we were all understandably scared and angry. I was transferred from the emergency room to SandyPines Residential Treatment Center in Jupiter, FL. The doctor that treated me had multiple relationships with myself and my family. Prior to my stay in the treatment center, our families would spend weekends together, go fishing and deep sea scuba diving. This personal relationship compromised our  therapist - client relationship and devalued anything the therapist might have tried to implement. 
This multiple relationship was harmful and unethical. Since the therapist was a family friend and close with my parents, she was the last person I wanted to confide in. It’s unfortunate, because if that therapist acted ethically at that time, I may have had a better chance of being diagnosed earlier and not suffering for almost 25 more years with undiagnosed mental illness. I may have utilized the treatment instead of rebelled against it. 
What do you think of a parent using their friend as a therapist to intervene with their “disturbed” child? 
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priyalsoni123 · 2 years
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Hotel Near AIIMS New Delhi by MangoHomz:
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*slithers in*
Can I request some Helen headcanons? Just like general dating him and maybe some nsfw if possible.
@mutat-ad-astra , ₐᄂᵣᵢg𝓱𝚝 yₒᵤ'ᵥₑ 𝚍ₒ𝚗ₑ ᵢ𝚝 𝚗ₒw. ᵢ'ᵥₑ 𝚋ₑ𝚌ₒᗰₑ ₐ 𝘴ᵢᗰ𝐩 fₒᵣ Hₑᄂₑ𝚗 . W𝓱ₐ𝚝 𝚍ₒ yₒᵤ 𝓱ₐᵥₑ 𝚝ₒ 𝘴ₐy fₒᵣ yₒᵤᵣ𝘴ₑᄂf??
(づ ̄ ³ ̄)づ
ꇙꄲ ꇙ꒐ꋊꉔꏂ ꓄ꁝ꒐ꇙ ꉣꄲꇙ꓄ ꉔꋬꂵꏂ ꄲ꒤꓄ ꇙꄲ ꒒ꄲꋊꍌ, ꒐'ꂵ ꍌꄲ꒐ꋊꍌ ꓄ꄲ ꅐꋪ꒐꓄ꏂ ꋬꋊ꒯ ꉣꄲꇙ꓄ ꁝꏂ꒒ꏂꋊ'ꇙ ꋊꇙꊰꅐ ꒐ꋊ ꒐꓄ꇙ ꄲꅐꋊ, ꍌ꒒ꄲꋪ꒐ꄲ꒤ꇙ ꉣꄲꇙ꓄ ❤
ᕼᗴᒪᗴᑎ ᗝ丅Ꭵᔕ/ᗷᒪᗝᗝᗪƳ ᑭᗩᎥᑎ丅ᗴᖇ ᖇᗴᒪᗩ丅ᎥᗝᑎᔕᕼᎥᑭ ᕼᗴᗩᗪᑕᗩᑎᗝᑎᔕ
(With a fem!SO)
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♡Let's just get canon out of the way real quick.
♡Helen is very calm and quiet
♡He isn't very expressive and doesn't speak much, but when he does, he's always the picture of the perfect gentleman.
♡If something doesn't concern him, Helen is pretty apathetic towards it. However, if it's something he cares about, Helen will be very passionate.
♡His parents treated him as a pet or toy, and this caused Helen to have repression issues.
♡He won't show emotion towards a person unless they show emotion first, then he will reciprocate. This is essential to remember as Helen's significant other; you'll have to make the first move every time.
♡Helen's a Libra. His birthday is October 1st
♡Helen's parents were so excited when they found out they were going to be parents. That night, Helen's mother dreamed that she had a beautiful baby girl with delicate features, the deepest blue eyes that she had ever seen, and coal black hair so fine that it looked like dark lace against the baby girl's alabaster skin. She woke up certain that she was pregnant with a baby girl that looked just like in her dream. Mrs. Otis went into labor and delivered a baby that indeed looked just like in her dream, but it was a boy. So they decided to continue on and name him Helen, and raise him as they would a little girl.
♡This treatment continued until he started school at six. Then his parents decided to dress him as and refer to him as a boy in order to not draw attention.
♡Helen still suffers from body dysphoria because of this. For a long time, Helen couldn't reconcile whether he was male or female in his mind, so he existed in a chaotic state of one, the other, both and neither all at the same time. Now- after years of therapy, and a great deal of time building his trust with Reader, Helen identifies as agender preferring he/they/it pronouns and a refined but masculine aesthetic.
♡Reader is the only person allowed to call him Helen. And even she doesn't do it often, only when she's serious. He prefers Reader to call him darling, love, honey, dear, and, if he's feeling frisky, Sir 😍. All others may refer to him by his surname, Otis.
♡Helen can be quite manipulative and his intelligence is obvious
♡While in "working" mode, Helen is very cautious of the scene he his creating, and presents every body as if it were a canvas to bear his work.
♡His fascination with blood stems from his childhood. He had always had trouble making friends, only managing one at a time and spaced distantly apart. His only childhood friend had been murdered by bullies in the park, rocks thrown at him for being friends with that "weird sissyboy kid" until one struck his temple, killing him instantly. The bullies had hurriedly buried his friend in the deep snow from the night before. Helen knew this, he had told you, because he had watched it all from his perch in a tree. After the bullies had fled, Helen had uncovered his friend and stared at his body lying in red stained snow, and the bullies later blamed Helen with his friends death. Ultimately, he had been cleared, as there had been a witness in the park.
♡The false accusations of murder didn't stop there, much to your displeasure.
♡In high school, a classmate of Helen's, one who happened to be Helen's only friend, fell from the building and died. A witness said that Helen had killed him, but no concrete evidence was found.
♡Not to say that Helen is an angel. You know he's far from that, too.
♡Later, the same year, as a freshman at university, Helen killed 17 people from his dorm building, and wounded 5 on Devil's Night (October 30th).
♡Helen was found insane by the courts as a minor and received 6 years of inpatient treatment before being released back into society.
♡He started "his work" again three years later, and then met you two years after that.
♡Helen smokes cigarettes (though not as much as Tim) and unwinds after "work" with music and a rum and Coke or whisky on the rocks.
♡Helen enjoys lofi hiphop; classical music; instrumental and instrumental covers of songs; music from the early 1960's like: Frankie Valli, The Big Bopper, the Animals, and the Zombies; and indie rock like The Flaming Lips, Harvey Danger, Dinosaur Jr, and The Smashing Pumpkins.
♡He loves discovering new music with you, listening to playlists you make him for hours. But you're gonna listen to some of his music, too and he makes playlists for you to play according to mood.
♡Helen's love languages are: quality time, acts of service, and words of affirmation. But the love languages he craves are: all of them except receiving gifts! Getting a gift is uncomfortable for Helen, especially if he has no gift to give back. He wants you to feel just as appreciated as you feel, if not more.
♡Helen thought that he was completely asexual before he met you. No one he had met had ever... Moved him in that way. And he was fine with that. Why should he mourn something he'd never even wanted?
♡And then he met you at an antique art showcase of pieces by and inspired by René Magritte. (Example here: ◎▼◎) After you spent hours together at the show, exchanging witty banter, and eventually, phone numbers, Helen found himself thinking about you that night, alone in bed. And then his mind wondered something it had never thought about anyone else. He wondered what you looked like naked. What your skin would feel like. How would you taste?
♡He frowned to himself, confused by the foreign thought for a moment before he realized that he felt sexual desire for you.
♡It still took him a long while of dating you before he felt comfortable enough to even kiss you in a sexual way. The two of you were practically engaged when he gave you his virginity.
♡Bonus wholesome content headcanon/drabble: Once you convinced Helen to bleach his naturally blue black hair. Not wanting to disappoint you, and telling himself that it was just hair, he consented and you happily set to work. An hour later, he emerged from the shower with a shock of platinum white hair 😱. He had to support himself with a hand on the back of the couch because his knees started shaking when he caught a glance of himself in the mirror over the fireplace. A long, thin fingered hand with a fine tremor lifted to cover his mouth. You knew without him telling you that he absolutely, 100%, no doubt, undisputedly hated it. His already porcelain skin had paled even more, now trembling chalk instead of bone China. His midnight blue eyes held a sort of flinching terror in them as they tried to look anywhere but the vicinity of the mantle mirror. You approached him gently and pulled the towel thrown around his shoulders loose and used his shoulder to balance you as you went up on tiptoe to finish drying his now shockingly white hair.
♡You leave Helen waiting shirtless in the living room to deal with putting his shoes and socks on and you pull on a light jacket to guard against the chill that manages to never be around when we need it during the daytime hours as you enter yours and Helen's shared bedroom. You find Helen a clean black tee shirt and pick up one of your beanies from the coatrack behind the bedroom door. This one was black with a tree frog leaping over the words Frog Leap Studios done in a typewriter font in white thread, a circle of bright blue making the frogs eye stand out.
♡You take the shirt and beanie to Helen and he pulls the shirt on. You feel a little sad that he's covering up, but there would be time to enjoy his body later. Helen sits on the couch so you can slip the beanie over his baby fine hair easier than going up on tiptoe to match his 6'2" lean frame. The bleach may have stolen its darkness, but it couldn't steal its softness. Helen's hair was probably the softest thing you'd ever touched.
♡Hair sufficiently covered, you and Helen get into your car and head to the only place open at the hour of 3:24 in the morning. Walmart. Your sleep schedule had never been normal and Helen didn't help you normalize it at all. In fact, if anything it had gotten worse, the two of you wrapped up in your own hyperfixations, leaned up against each other back to back, or one of you holding the other as one of you writes while the other draws.
♡You feel Helen's hand find your thigh and squeeze it, letting you know he's not upset with you. You reached down and covered his hand with yours, returning the squeeze and you finish out the short ride more relaxed now that you know Helen isn't mad at you. Helen follows you to the beauty section once you're inside the store. He patiently watches as you pick out boxes from 4 different companies.
♡An amused Helen watches you as you quibble with the four boxes. You shuffle through them, running through them over and over like a person considering their hand while playing cards.
♡You end up with him bending down slightly again so you can compare the dyes to his eyebrows. He thinks it's the sweetest thing that you're going through such a clear effort to fix his hair. Obviously you feel responsible for the mistake and he hates that.
♡Gently taking the boxes from your hands, he picks a random red and black one from the four you were debating between and puts the rest back on the shelf.
♡Then Helen pulls you into his arms and holds you tight and close, burying a kiss on top of your head. You smile into his chest, breathing in the scent of paint, paint thinner, lavender shampoo, and jasmine soap. On anyone else, the paint thinner smell would have made you sick. But on Helen, it just smelled like home. You two stay in your embrace, Helen swaying slightly to a beat only he could hear. A stolen moment, a stolen dance, to help ground yourselves.
♡Helen broke the hug after a few moments more, but kept hold of your hand. You walk to the checkout line and pay almost $10 for the dye. The price gave you a mild case of sticker shock, but you shook it off and smiled at the older cashier, who was beaming as her eyes moved between you and Helen. The two of you seemed to get that reaction from older people. That look of pure hope that more people got to experience the love that shone between you. You both thank the cashier repeatedly as Helen payed her the money needed.
"You two have a good night" she smiled at us, "the world needs more couples that look at each other the way you do. You look, at each other like you're reach others entire worlds."
"She is" Helen says softly, pulling me into a hug and a quick kiss, "She's my whole universe."
♡You're pretty certain that the woman's smile could not get bigger. But you didn't really want to find out, since you were starting to notice that her teeth were huge and you were starting to get squicked out by it. Helen must have picked up on your discomfort because he led you away in the protective half circle of his arm.
♡"My knight in shining armor" you croon at him as you walk back to the car, "Thank you for saving me. I am forever in your debt. However could I repay you, Sir?"
♡Helen took in a sharp breath and chuckled as he slowly let it out, "I can think of a few things."
♡"You'll have to show me when you have the time" I teased as Helen opened your car door for me. He'd taught you that chivalry was not dead, and you'd realized that it would be easier to let Helen be a gentleman than it would be to convince him that you could open your own doors.
♡You drove home and locked the doors behind you. You headed straight for the bathroom and Helen borrowed a stool from the island bar to sit on so you could reach all of his head.
♡Twenty minutes later, you threw dye covered vinyl gloves in the trash and settled an old towel around Helen's shoulders and neck to keep the dye from dripping on him. You'd clipped a pillowcase over his hair and you had just finished hitting the dye with heat to assure his hair took the dye well, absorbed it.
♡Helen smiled contentedly up at you from his spot on the stool.
♡You tilted his chin up to kiss him. He kissed you back and then sent soft kisses across your cheek and jawbone, and then kissed and nipped down your neck. Helen focused his kisses back on your lips, kissing you like the kisses would magically cure everything, would keep you alive.
♡The timer you'd set so Helen would know when to wash the dye out of his hair went off, and Helen stood
♡Having already taken off his shirt, Helen unfastened his jeans and let them slide down his legs, stepping out of them as they pooled around his feet, leaving him completely nude, comfortable.
♡instead of getting in the shower, Helen pulled you closer to the shower and used his nimble hands to liberate you of your clothes. Before you could protest, or even decide if ypu wanted to get in, Helen had pulled you under the spray of the shower and he stood in it now, extra dye streaming in lines
♡You turned Helen's back to you and massaged his scalp as the water rinsed the excess dye down the drain. When the water ran clear, you massaged some of the color protect conditioner that came with the dye and Helen switched places with you, his hands never leaving your hips so he could catch you if you slipped.
♡Helen washes your back for you and then your hair, lathering up a clean washcloth with jasmine soap and making sure not to miss a spot. Then he rubbed some lavender scented shampoo into my hair. Then he rinsed it and repeated the process before leaving some conditioner to sit in my hair.
♡Finally Helen worked some conditioner into your hair that matched the shampoo. You help Helen rinse everything from his hair and you condition his hair with the rest of the conditioner that came with the dye.
♡Showers with Helen always end up with him bathing you, his hands and keen eye not missing a single millimeter of your skin. Showers rarely turned sexual between the two of you, instead the two of you focused on the intimacy of showering together.
♡After all the soap and hair products are rinsed from both of you, Helen turned off the water and wrapped you in warm towels, quickly drying himself off and slinging a towel around his hips.
♡Helen obviously felt better once his hair was back to its natural inky darkness.
♡You could tell from the mischievous grin he wore as he escorted you to the bedroom.
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AN: so I wrote on this well into the night... Fell asleep in the process a few times 😅. If you see continuity issues with the POV, let me know so I can fix it. I kept wanting to write in first person 😂
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coleyholts · 3 years
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The ER and the Operation
First off-Sorry I haven’t posted in a while.  For obvious reasons, this post took a lot of time to put into words that were relatable.  
Trigger Warning: Infant Injury.  This is by far the worst part of the entire ordeal.  I want the reader to know that none of this is exaggerated whatsoever, and it may be difficult to read.  What happened in the ER and trauma center that day has truly changed me.
The glass doors parted in front of me to reveal a line of people waiting to get checked in. This was the first time I cried. They all quickly waved me up ahead of them once they saw that I had an obviously unconscious, super pale, vomit covered infant in my arms.
The helplessness set in when I was required to sign in like everyone else.  It’s not like I expect special treatment, but my baby was dying and no one seemed to understand the urgency of the EMERGENCY.  There were no nurses coming out to receive a trauma patient. There was no alarm.  I stood there, alone, with my rapidly worsening baby, sobbing and screaming for help while dripping in her breakfast and lunch.  At this point, she would wake up and pass out again in a vicious cycle.  Over and over, I watched her light dim for what felt like an eternity. After what I would rationally estimate to be about seven minutes (48,369,526 years to a scared parent), they finally called us back.
Everyone was taking their time.  I wondered if they thought I was being dramatic.  Were they rolling their eyes and blaming my emotion on “New Parent Syndrome?”  They were.  I felt it.
It wasn’t until they FINALLY decided to run vitals that they discovered what I was trying to stress since I had entered the hospital.  My daughter had something way more serious going on than any of us expected.  We walked (very briskly) down the hall to get a better look at what was actually happening in her head.  The tech and nurse cloaked me in protective gear so that I could stay with her.  I gently stroked her toes (also known as de peets) as she woke up, cried in pain, and fell back into her trauma-induced sleep while they got all of the imagery they needed.
We were brought back to our room and had a brief moment alone.  I held her so tight while I kissed her face and alternated holding her feet and hands.  They were so cold.  A nurse rushed up to our door, looked at me and said, “make sure to keep her as upright as possible.”  
That’s when I knew there was a bleed in my baby’s head.
A team of nurses came in and told me that they were going to start an IV, which actually made me feel relieved to know she would be feeling better soon. This is when Daniel arrived, and being that he is the epitome of girl dad attitude, he understandably doesn’t like to watch her get stuck.  He stuck his head in the room and immediately backed out when they tried to start the line. Unfortunately, we found out very quickly that she had no blood in her limbs whatsoever.  
They stuck her over and over again just to find air bubbles, which means they were unable to administer any intravenous medication to replace fluids, relieve pain, stop her from fading in and out of consciousness, or do anything to prevent the blood pooling in Natasha’s skull.  They decided that her condition was serious enough that she needed a line no matter what it took, which I agreed, which meant that they were going to use a legitimate power tool to drill into her shins to run a line into her bones.  I consented and sobbed, knowing the pain my baby had already endured that day was going to be the start of much more, if she survived.
While this was going down, Daniel was right outside the door, unaware of the issues we were running into, he heard a nurse at the nurses’ station ordering a helicopter for an infant, and that the “family wasn’t aware yet.”  My husband is a strong, supportive man that is a fixer.  If he cannot fix a problem, he expresses himself with (verbal) anger.  He comes into the room and says very abruptly to the nurse, “You’re flying her out?! Why?!” to which the male nurse responded, “because there's something seriously wrong and it needs to be fixed.”  I saw him escalating with anxiety so I assured him that they were just having a little trouble getting the line in and he returned to the hallway to start the wait for the doctor who was going to tell us what the hell was actually happening to our baby.
When she arrived, the doctor came in with Daniel.  She told us that Natasha had fractured her skull, and along with potential brain damage and hemorrhage, we were also concerned about blood loss, as her supply was pooling in her head.  The only way to save her life was to get her to INOVA Children’s Hospital for an emergency surgery, on a helicopter that I was not allowed to accompany her on.
Alone with my baby and the nurses, I was so upset.  My sweet girl was in so much pain. I made eye contact with a nurse and while sobbing, begged her to please administer anything whatsoever to ease the headache and all of the needle sticks-not to mention the drill.  For the first time, someone heard me.  She RAN into the hall and managed to bring back Versed, which can be administered nasally to relax muscles and calm the patient.  I am given the same drug when I get my back injections, so I was relieved.  It also prevents the patient from remembering everything, when administered in proper dosage.  It helped Natasha’s discomfort immediately.  They gave her the numbing shots in her legs, and while she was dozing and truly unaware of my presence, I stepped into the hallway.
This was the first time since the CT scan that she wasn’t in my arms. This time was different.  We knew the severity of the injury and she was being cared for by the entire trauma team of 7+ people.  I took one step out of the room, one step to the left, and planted my butt on the wall and hands on my knees for stability while I hung my head in complete disbelief.  How could this happen?  I opened my eyes and saw my clothing, dripping in her vomit.  I can still smell the banana berry baby food she ate without hesitation two hours earlier.  I screamed and sobbed as my muscles locked up in my legs and chest, then I felt someone put their hands on me.
I was literally picked up and supported while I shakily stood, completely losing my mind over the guilt and hatred I felt for myself.  The drilling began and I let out a sound I didn’t know I could make, while I was held tighter than I’d ever been.  I pulled back, just for a second, to look into the eyes of my soulmate and all I could say was, “I’m so sorry.”  Daniel pulled me back in, kissed my face, wiped my tears (which really didn’t do anything considering they just kept coming, but the gesture was so kind), and proceeded to tell me that it wasn’t my fault, and that he loves me and he loves that I am his daughter’s mother.  In that moment, his anger subsided and he moved to a different headspace.  That small exchange is burned into my heart forever and I have never been so incredibly thankful to be his wife.
They helicopter team arrived and they were still unable to get a steady line going.  According to their transport regulations, a patient transported by air has to be hooked up to an IV as well as intubated.  Time was ticking and my baby was visibly fading.  While still in the hallway, we were met by some medical coordinator who was trying to arrange a ride for us while she was in the air.  I don’t know how he was able, but after insisting over and over, they let us go.  They finally put an IV in my baby’s forehead; there was no other way.  They were discreet and covered it but I know what an IV mark looks like after the fact.  They could not get her intubated and save her so that (very brave) helicopter team took a huge risk that ultimately got her to INOVA by deciding to take her anyway.  WE kissed her goodbye while sobbing and told her how much we loved her.  The thought of her dying in flight weighed on us heavily, so we took off as soon as they wheeled her out.
The ride there was crazy.  I had no thoughts and all the thoughts going through my head.  My heart was nauseous.  I set a quick group text to my immediate family.  We saw the helicopter fly over us and it was a sigh of relief-knowing we were FLYING down the highway but she would be there faster.
We pulled up to the ER/Trauma Center.  I got out and ran in.  All I could get out was “Natasha” until they asked my relation and I somehow got out, “my baby...”  They valeted the car so Daniel could be with us.  They were rushing to get her into surgery.  They brought us into the trauma room (families usually aren’t permitted there but there was no time) and pulled up some waiver and permission forms.  They briefly explained the surgery, we signed, then it was GO TIME.
We stepped out of the room as the table with my baby strapped to it-full of wires and tubes-flew out of the trauma room.  The anesthesiologist made brief eye contact with me, halted the team, and said, “Let her kiss her baby.”  He knew she could easily not make it through this surgery.  Daniel kissed her and loved her for a few seconds and backed away with teary eyes.  I laid my forehead against her cheek.  I sobbed and screamed.  I kissed her over and over as my tears soaked us.  I told her I was so so sorry and that I loved her so much.  I wished it was me.
They took her away then.  The team saw my raw sorrow.  I got a very quick but kind pat on the back and they took off.
We were met by a social worker who brought us to a private room where we could chat and have some water.  Of course, we were asked all the suspected child abuse questions, but they got the idea pretty quickly that this was a freak accident.
After the interview, we were brought to a huge waiting room that must have been filled with 100+ seats.  We found a spot and the social worker left us.  We sat for a moment, touching hands.  They we both had to cry, then stand, then pace... The wait took forever, even more so not knowing if she was even going to live.
My brother, Jason works out that way and asked us if we needed anything right at that moment.  I was wearing a paper shirt provided by a nurse, so we gave him a small list and he stopped by.  He and Daniel stepped out for some fresh air while I sat breathing deeply and trying not to worry myself into another panic episode.  Then, an actual angel emerged from the hospital doors.
Dr. Leon Moores, a pediatric neurosurgeon at Pediatric Specialists of Virginia performed the emergency surgery.  I called for Daniel as Dr. Moores hugged me so tightly.  I didn’t know if this was a good or bad hug yet.
Daniel and Jason walked (ran) back in and sat with us to hear the outcome.  He told us that he was able to remove a blood clot the size of his fist from Natsha’s skull and that her vitals were wonderful.  So she had 100% survived the surgery.  Next was about brain damage, and by some miracle, her brain remained unharmed.  Dr. Moores saved my baby.
While they were getting her settled into the PICU, Jason took us to Target to get some clothes and snacks.  We had no idea how long this journey was going to be.  We got back to the hospital, gave gigantic hugs, and went up to see our baby as she woke up.
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lonelypond · 3 years
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Parent Trap, Ch. 10
NicoMaki, Love Live, 3.1K, 10/?
Summary: Maki panics, Eli saves the day, and we have a clash of the grandmothers.
When Moms Attack
Maki rambled, letting anything she was thinking just spill out of her mouth as she navigated unfamiliar streets, actively not looking at Nico. Nico had seemed so tiny, leaning most of her weight on Maki, letting Maki help her up into the Nissan Rogue Sport. Maki had slid into the driver’s seat, while Nico had slumped against the window. Worrying. Terrifying. So Maki kept rambling. “I spent hours driving down from Wisconsin with no problems, but once you hit the city, there’s traffic and people not paying attention and…”
Nico made a murmuring noise.
“Then suddenly you have to remember to stop at traffic lights. It just slows everything down.” A red light. A hasty switch to brakes. And had she missed a turnoff?
“I think we’re almost there. Nico, do you recognize this street?”
No reply.
“Nico?”
Maki turned to her right, Nico had completely fallen against the door, not holding herself up at all. “Non responsive” lit a panic fire in Maki’s brain. “Nico?!?”
No reply. Should Maki go the hospital? Was Nico breathing? Should she have put Nico on a backboard at the scene? Called 911? What could she do now? Had she hurt Nico? Not rambling anymore, now Maki, Maki was breathing, too fast, with no idea what to do next. Who could help...Eli...Eli’s private line was still in her phone.
“Call Doctor Eli Ayase’s Emergency Number.”
###
Her phone. Eli heard the ringtone. Her emergency number. Immediately, she was alert, no longer in a sleepy haze of Nozomi nearness. Her phone would wake up the twins. Now was not a good time for Vik and Teddy to be wandering around.
“Dr. Ayase’s emergency line.” Nozomi’s voice was crisp and efficient. Of course, Nozomi was faster, Nozomi was used to being a doctor’s wife.“...Calm down, Maki, Eli’s right here, what happened to Nico?”
Eli leapt up in a panic, grabbing the phone, falling over Nozomi. “Maki?”
“Nico was in an accident on the set and hit her head and I’m taking her home but she just passed out and now she’d not responding, maybe, and I don’t know what to…”
“Maki, where are you?”
“Driving to Nico’s house. But I’m lost.”
“Pull over…carefully.” Nozomi had gone to get her robe, wrapping it around Eli, “Then take a couple deep, slow breaths and tell me what happened.”
No reply. Eli willed Maki to get off the road safely. Waiting, pacing, Eli counted the steps from the couch to the bedroom door. And back.
After a long pause, Eli heard an exhale, and Maki’s voice, shaking, “I thought Nico might have a minor concussion after her car stunt so I was driving her to her house, but she just passed out. I made a mistake Eli, we should have gone right to the hospital, what if there's damage…”
Time to interrupt the panic attack. “Maki, I’m sure you made the right call on site. Nico didn’t get much sleep last night, she’s been working 18 plus hours a day, she’s probably exhausted, dehydrated, and might have the same upper respiratory bug the twins are developing. So there’s a lot that could be going on, a bad combination, but not lethal. I need you to stay calm. Use your training. How’s her pulse?”
“Fast but steady.” Maki sounded calmer. “I’m taking her to our hospital. Meet me there. I can’t be her doctor, but I’ll get things started.”
“Maki, you know you won’t have any say in her treatment, if she’s unconscious, her family will. We have to call them.”
“Fuck you, Eli. You owe me. I’ll just say we’re married.” Maki sounded like she was crying.
“Maki…”
Sniffling. “Just meet me there.”
Eli had a panic thought, Dia in the car seat listening to all of this, “Where’s Dia?”
“Rin and Hanayo’s.”
“Good.”
Maki was back in control of her voice at least. “Just ask at reception. We’ll be in the family suite.”
The Family Suite. Sometimes Eli forgot exactly how privileged the Nishikinos were. They had what was basically a two bedroom apartment tucked into the hospital for their private use.
“All right, Maki. Just be careful.”
No reply as Maki ended the call.
Eli put the phone down, her forehead against the wall, until Nozomi’s arms wrapped around her waist, Eli turning to meet worried turquoise eyes.
“Apparently, be gay and do crime now means violate medical consent and privacy laws.” Eli couldn’t filter the snark. She liked rules. Rules prevented situations like this.
Nozomi winced. Eli just sounded so stretched. “What’s happening, Elichi? Maki sounded panicky.”
“Maki’s got Nico in a car, passed out, with a maybe concussion.” Eli sighed, “I think it’s more likely exhaustion and dehydration and worry caught up to Nico, but that’s not good either.”
“No.” Nozomi shook her head, “And Teddy was coughing when she came home from school.”
“Fever?”
“Not enough to notice.”
“Vik have any symptoms?” Eli ran a hand through her messy hair, considering a diagnosis and treatment plan for Nico.
“They were kinda quiet, no bragging about Nico or planning for Tokyo.”
“Flu cases have been surging. Better keep both home today.” Eli raised a hand to Nozomi’s cheek, reveling in the softness, “I hate to leave. You’re…”
Nozomi giggled, breaking the moment. “Help Maki and we get our guest room back.”
Eli frowned, “You’re shameless. This is all your fault. I haven’t forgotten.”
“I know.” Nozomi dropped her head, more of an admission of responsibility and guilt than Eli had expected, “We’ll fix this. But first go fix Nico.”
“Yeah.” Eli tilted Nozomi’s head up, making sure Nozomi could see the love in her eyes, “I am sorry to go.”
“Just come back to me.”
“Always.”
From the first kiss to this one, Eli had never been anything but certain Nozomi had been meant to be by her side. 1000 platinum records and screaming sell out crowds wouldn’t have matched even the first clumsy thrill or this avalanche of content and chemistry.
###
For this late an hour, a surprising number of nurses, aides, clerks, security, and doctors were scurrying everywhere when Eli reached the main desk in the Emergency Department. Eli recognized the mood. Maki was in a temper.
“Dr. Ayase!” Amaya Robinson, one of the Emergency Department Managers, hurried up to Eli, “What is going on?”
“Where is Dr. Nishikino?” Had Maki signed Nico in in any way? Or just rushed her somewhere. “And the patient?’”
Robinson moved to let a clerk use the nearest computer, “Dr. Maki Nishikino rushed into the Emergency Department, ignoring triage protocols and the admission clerks, diverted resources in a questionable manner, and has refused to fill out any forms or provide any information about the woman she commandeered a bed for. She referred all questions to you, upon arrival. I can assure you the Board will have many more questions than I do.”
Damn it, Maki, Eli thought. Then she spoke in her best concerned colleague voice, “Amaya, I know this is irregular. Maki called me in at the last minute.” Eli debated how much to share, but if Ms. Robinson had any human sympathy at all, Eli was going to summon it, “She was in a panic. I know I can trust your discretion, but the patient is,” Eli lowered her voice, obviously checking to see if there were eavesdroppers, “Nico Ni. So it’s important we keep this as quiet as possible.”
“Tell Dr. Nishikino that.” No sympathy. Maki’s brusque independence had left her few friends among upper management.
“Have you called either of her parents?”
Amaya shook her head, “I want to be able to sum it all up in one message.”
That could take hours, if Maki kept up a rampage. Time for Eli to get some fluids in Nico and find some way to calm Maki down. “Where is Maki raging now?”
Amaya almost laughed, “Private suite. You remember where that is?”
Eli nodded. After Dia’s birth, Maki had been moved there. “Have there been any tests run?”
“Basic blood work. X ray. Have you contacted next of kin?”
Nico’s mom was so not going to be on board with Maki’s plan to be in charge without being in charge. Eli gritted her teeth and punted, “I’m sure Maki’s done something about that.”
“Good. Dr. Nishikino needs to be a lot less visible and audible on this case.”
Eli nodded, briskly stepping around Amaya, “I’ll take over.”
“I’ll exert some diplomacy in the ER.”
“Thanks. I’m sure Maki wouldn’t have upset her coworkers if she weren’t so worried.” Eli stopped, frowning, “Although that’s no excuse, I know.”
Robinson grimaced, not thrilled at how long this night was going to linger on her to deal with list. “Please, just don’t let this turn into a bigger problem, Dr. Ayase”
That was Eli’s plan. And Maki was a wrecking ball pointed at it. Eli nodded and speedwalked to the elevator.
###
Where was Eli? Maki paced, almost frantic, stopping to make sure Nico was still breathing. Rationally, she knew Eli was right and she wouldn’t have missed anything major, but here, now, in this room, Nico was unconscious in bed, with an IV line, looking so frail. And tiny. Maki couldn’t process how drained Nico looked, how breakable, how…“Nico?”
No response. Where was Eli?
Maki forced herself to breathe. Eli would be here. Eli was making things happen so Nico would be okay. Nico was important to Eli. Maki had had enough faith in Eli to trust her through her fertility trials and pregnancy. Maki remembered when Dia decided to be delivered early, how calm Eli was. Breathe. Trust Eli. Nico would be all right. She was just tired. Maki was tired too. Go sit on the bed in the other half of the suite, take a moment, text Rin about what was going on, find out how Dia’s afternoon had been. Nico wasn’t going anywhere. Walking slowly to the other bed, sitting awkwardly, still watching Nico. Surprised at how heavy she felt, Maki thought maybe she would just lay down for a minute, just until Eli got there. A yawn. Just for a minute. That was better than staring at Nico hard enough to wake her up.
###
Nico heard someone walking. Why was she asleep? Wasn’t Maki talking to her? Maki’s car had been too comfortable, Nico must have fallen asleep. She opened her eyes and jumped to see Eli's face too close, blue eyes worried.
“What the hell, Eli?” Nico shouted, but she didn’t get the volume she expected.
Eli raised a finger to her lips and pointed to an open archway, “Maki’s asleep in there. She’s had a long day.”
“Maki’s had a long day? Nico’s had a long day.” Nico had never been in this room before. Eli had scrubs on. Had Maki taken Nico to the hospital? After the…
“This is ridiculous, Eli. Nico’s fine.” Nico sat up, swinging her legs to the side of the bed, but Eli’s arm blocked her.
“You’re not going anywhere until I see your X-Rays, Nico. And maybe a CAT scan. Your pulse rate is too fast, you’re dehydrated and running a fever, you are not fine.”
“Maki just wanted to kidnap Nico.” Nico pouted, not wanting to admit how that motion had left her.
“Maki...” Eli glanced over her shoulder, “was terrified.”
Nico coughed. It hurt. If Maki was here... “Where’s Dia?”
“Rin and Hanayo.”
“Good.” Nico relaxed just slightly, “I’m not staying Eli. If it’s a concussion, it’s minor, and this hospital is just full of people wanting to stalk Nico and stare.”
“I know, I called your Mom. After we get some fluids and meds in you, I think home is the best place for you. But you need to talk to Maki, Nico. And you need to take it easy.”
Nico shook her head, wincing, “Nico has to finish the video. And then the mini tour starts.”
Eli pushed her glasses up, blue eyes flaring with stubborn, “Nico, your insurance will cover a postponement for medical reasons. If you’ve got the flu that’s been going around the twins’ school, you’re going to feel worse tomorrow. And if you don’t rest, there’s pneumonia to worry about. Your blood work worries me. You need to take better care of yourself.”
“Nico?” Maki’s voice, soft, worried. She was standing in the archway, staring at Nico and Eli.
Eli’s voice was soft, but too serious for Nico to ignore. “Don’t move much. And talk to Maki, Nico. I’m going to go wait for your Mom downstairs.”
Nico nodded at Eli, settling back against the pillows as another wave of tired hit.
Eli gave Maki an encouraging smile and exited the room.
Nico turned to Maki, not happy to be having this conversation here. “You called Eli? Aren’t you a doctor?”
Maki shook her head, suddenly shy, “Not yours.”
“Nico is confused.” But then a rush of adrenaline surged and Nico sat up, hand out, “But not concussion confused.”
Maki sat on the end of Nico’s bed, “I’m your...girlfriend, not your doctor. I don’t want to be your doctor. Doctors don’t date patients.”
“But you kidnapped Nico.”
“You passed out in my car, Nico.” Maki leaned forward, fingers tugging through hair. "I didn't know what to do." She sounded so young.
"You could come closer.” Nico wanted to smooth the strands back into place, soothing Maki.
Maki shook her head, not raising it.
“Maki?” No reply. “I’m glad you didn’t go to the party.”
“Wanted to get OUT but wanted to see you more…” A sigh, “Watching Dia alone was exhausting. And lonely. Since I got pregnant, everybody just treats me like a mom, not a....person. All they talk about is Dia.” Maki glanced up, a smile starting, “You didn’t.”
Nico managed to slide down the bed, hip to hip with Maki. Attraction had heady, hella pull. “Nico wants to know more about Maki.”
The air got heavy, Maki decided to risk the hard question, turning to face Nico,“But what about Dia? Eli says…”
Nico took Maki’s hand, “Maki and Dia are a package deal. Nico wants both.”
Maki let herself just sit there, meeting Nico’s gaze, feeling her worries fade, becoming fascinated by the swirls of sparkling love in the deep ruby crimson. Nico was leaning forward....
A knock...Nico’s eyes closed and frustration edged her voice, “Go away, Eli.”
But the door opened and Maki’s mother stepped through, still in her coat. “Here you are, Maki. I want to talk to you.”
“Mama, not now.”
“Yes, now, Maki…you didn’t tell me you were coming back into town, I had to find out from security you’d smuggled...Yazawa in here, I want to know what’s going on. And where’s Dia?”
Was everyone going to ask Maki that? Like she'd forget her child somewhere.
“Rin’s.”
“Good. There’s no need for her to be any further involved with Yazawa and her fans.” Maki’s mother turned on Nico, who was processing the family resemblances, “Please keep my family out of your...harem.”
Maki hissed. Nico nearly jumped off the bed, the IV stand rattling with her movement.
“You’re embarrassing me, Mama.”
Dr. Nishikino shrugged, “This isn’t the first fleeting celebrity crush anybody’s ever had. Easily forgotten in a week.”
“I’m not a teenager with a crush.”
Nico winced at how sullen Maki sounded. She was not dealing with this well, not making eye contact with anyone. Nico reached out a hand, laying it on top of Maki’s, willing reassurance into the contact. They could do this together.
“Nico!!!” Nico’s mother barrelled into the room, no Eli in sight. “Are you all right?” Mrs. Yazawa rushed to her daughter’s bedside, pushing aside Maki's mother, her hand raising Nico’s chin so she could get a good look at her daughter’s face, “Eli is right. You are exhausted. You should stay here.”
“I’m going home, Mama.” Nico said quietly.
“Nico…” Maki started, to be interrupted by her own mother.
“I agree with Yazawa, the hospital is far too public. I want the Nico Ni social media circus far away from my daughter and granddaughter.”
Nico’s mother switched her attention to Maki, her questions sharp, her eyes suspicious. “Where’s Dia? With your nanny?”
“Mama…” Nico whined. Maki might have smiled at Nico’s pouty cuteness but the tension in the room was near exploding.
“It is none of anyone’s business where my granddaughter is…”
“Family belongs with family...”
“Mama.” Nico grabbed her mother’s arm, “let Nico handle this.”
Maki was rocking, chewing on her lip, finally raising her head to glare at her mother, “None of this concerns you, Mama.”
“Maki, you are obviously…”
“Obviously what?” Maki had snapped, “Responsible for my own life and child? Not wanting interference from anyone? Tired of being told what to do for the Nishikino brand?”
And then there was Eli, clapping her hands, the loud noise startling the room into silence, “That’s enough. Nishikinos out. Now.” Eli held the door open, her determination stilling the room.
“Your intervention is not appreciated, Dr. Ayase.” Dr. Nishikino the elder frowned. “I will remember this.”
“Nico is my patient. You have no rights here.” Eli’s smile was icily polite.
“Nico…” Maki had Nico’s hand again.
“It’s okay, Maki. Mama’s going to take me home and you’re going to check on Dia. And then,” Nico deliberately held the very hostile gaze of Maki’s mother, “You’re going to come stay at Nico’s house for as long as you want. I’ll text you the security code.”
"Really?" Hope surged as Nico looked at Maki.
"If it's what you want." Nico tugged Maki forward, leaning up for a quick, awkward kiss, fingers sweeping Maki’s cheek. They smiled at each other, a moment anchored in their growing bond, a calm in this crazy day. “See you soon.”
Maki nodded, then rushed by Eli, not looking at Nico’s mother. When she got to hers, she stopped, hand on her mother’s elbow “C’mon Mama. Let Nico rest.”
“We’re not done discussing this, Maki.”
“I know.” And Maki steered her mother out of the room.
Mrs. Yazawa closed the door after the Nishikinos, frowning. “Is that really wise, Nico? Inviting her to stay with you?”
“Mama, just let Eli unlock and unplug Nico and we’ll go home. You can list what Nico should have done on the way.”
Arms crossed, Mrs. Yazawa’s foot kept a brisk pace tapping the floor. “Trust me, I will.”
“Just remember,” Nico flopped back, groaning and wincing dramatically, “Nico’s not well.”
“Well enough to flirt.”
Nico grinned, “Nico’s Dr. Charm, not Dr. Harmed.”
Mrs. Yazawa rolled her eyes at her eldest. Eli giggled.
A/N: Stay safe out there.
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ursa-mediocre · 3 years
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My dog died today, and it fucking sucks.
She’d had symptoms of a collapsing trachea for a while, mainly a weird cough when she got excited or if pressure was put on her neck. Around March she was due for a dental cleaning where they intubated her and I asked the vet if that’d be an issue but they didn’t seem worried about it so I went ahead with it. Afterwards she had a different sort of cough for a long enough time that I contacted the vet again and they said it was most likely irritation from being intubated that should clear up. I did make her an appointment when I called but it was for a couple weeks out and in between then the cough did get better to the point I considered cancelling it.
A week before her appointment she had what turned out to be an arthritis flair up and I took her to the Emergency Vet and so decided to keep the appointment at her vet. At the appointment the vet was more worried about the cough while I was more worried about the arthritis since the cough was sorta back to pre-intubation frequency. He prescribed a tapering course of prednisone which seemed to help both issues a lot but there wasn’t any discussion of follow up after the course was over. But during and a couple weeks after she was fine so I wasn’t too worried about it.
Then a few weeks ago she started coughing again, and it was sort of up and down. I wanted to wait and see if it’d improve when the weather did, because at this point I was feeling like every time I went to the vet freaked out about something I left feeling silly. Tuesday I finally made her an appointment, but they were booking out a month so it wasn’t until August 17th.
Today my family is having a memorial service for my uncle who died a few months ago, because his family wanted to bury him here but lived on the west coast. After the service the plan was to have people over our house, so we’ve also been preparing for that and have had people over the last two nights (she got lots of affection from my cousin’s kids which was nice).
Last night she was coughing really bad. I could hear her pacing in the hall, going back and forth between my parents’ room and my room. I’ve been giving her honey to try and help sooth her throat, and tried to get her to calm down, but it seemed like she couldn’t lay down without immediately having to stand up and cough.
Around 4 AM I took her to the emergency vet. I thought they’d just have to give her some sedatives or cough suppressants and maybe a prescription for steroids or anti-inflammatories. They put her on supplemental oxygen and said she’d probably have to stay the day to stabilize and then they’d take chest X-rays to see what was up and let me know.
So I got home around 5:30 and tried to sleep, and they called me around 2 hours later to tell me that she was still having trouble breathing, and they weren’t able to take X-rays yet but had done an ultrasound and found fluid in her lungs and asked me for permission to intubate and do CPR if necessary, which I’ve been asked about for other procedures so I consented not thinking they’d actually have to.
Then they called again an hour later and said that they had intubated her, lost her heartbeat, were performing CPR, and asked how quickly I could get there.
My mom drove me and when I got there they had gotten her heartbeat back but she wasn’t aware of anything. They took me to see her, and said that they weren’t sure if the fluid was from congestive heart failure, a blood clot, pneumonia, or irritation from the collapsing trachea, but that she’d probably need to go on a ventilator for any further treatment. We opted to try to get chest X-rays before deciding because she said that heart failure could possibly be treated. But when they went to do that they lost her heartbeat again so I had make the decision to let her go.
It was kind of funny when we got back to the room she was in because this tiny dog was surrounded by like a dozen women (one was standing on a chair?) and they had just gotten her heartbeat back again. But the vet had them unhook her from everything and took us to a room to sit with her. I held her wrapped up in a blanket like a baby. I couldn’t help but think that my own mother there with me had lost an actual baby and how unbearable that seems when my heart’s this broken over a dog.
I don’t know how long she was actually still alive while we sat there. There were a couple tiny coughs and noises when they first handed her to me but I don’t remember feeling her try to breath at all (she had had to be intubated after all, so she probably couldn’t). I told her I was sorry, because I was. I wish I had been a better medical advocate for her with her own vet, because not being able to go into the room with her through covid during appointments made it really difficult to know if they were seeing what I was seeing with her. I wish I had taken her in sooner. I wish I had known at 4:30, when she climbed into my lap as we pulled into the parking lot, that I should have said a proper goodbye then rather than immediately hand her over to the vet tech that came for her. I wish I had spent every moment I could have with her, giving her non stop attention. I told her that I loved her. I told her she was the best dog. The best Lola she could be.
I had to remember to call her previous owner, a girl that’s a few years younger than me. We had had visits every so often after I got Lola, but hadn’t in over a year because of covid. She texted me a few months ago saying that if it were possible she wanted to be with Lola when her time came. Part of the reason I wanted the X-rays was to get even a day or two so we could do proper goodbyes. But I had her talk on the phone with her instead, even though I knew she wasn’t really with us anymore.
I told her my plan was to have her cremated so she could have some of the ashes. We went over that with one of the vet techs, who helped set it up with a facility they partner with. She offered to take a paw print and I had had her make it with her paw that was missing a toe because that was uniquely Lola.
Lola hated people touching her paws. She never would’ve sat still in my lap for so long. She hated getting wet, she wouldn’t go for walks in the rain, and the top of her head was soaked in snot and tears. In her younger days if she caught me crying she’d try to lick up all my snot and get up my nose because she loved the taste of boogers. Her tongue was sticking out the whole time and turning blue before I finally stuck it back in her mouth.
I didn’t want to stop petting her. Her fur was so soft. Her little ears were so perfect and round from her last haircut. I don’t want to pet my dad’s dog because it feels like a betrayal. They walked her to the door with us, but wrapped her back up kind of clumsily so her back legs and tail flopped out and up like how she used to sleep when she was younger and it was hot. I used to grab them and call them her ‘lil chicken legs’.
I don’t want to think about where she is right now. Everyone there was very kind and respectful, I know the practicalities of body storage. I don’t actually want her to be cremated, but I also don’t want to bury her. I just want her to be here, I want to touch her fur and see her dumb foxy face. But I’m not about to fucking taxidermy my dog.
So now it’s about 2:30. My dog has been dead at least 5 hours. I hate it so far.
My dad and older brother were waiting outside when we got home. I put her paw print in the fridge until we can bake it. I went into the living room and saw her bed on the floor and had to go back outside for a minute. I poured out the water bowl I kept in my room for her. My family left for the memorial service, I tried to sleep more. Around 1:30 I got up and ate something for the first time today. There are people coming to the house soon to mourn an actual human.
I have to cancel her vet appointment. I have to cancel her CareClub and flea & tick medicine subscription. I have to clean her dishes, beds, toys, etc and figure out what to do with them. There are still treats in ‘her’ backpack, the one I would take with us hiking so she could ride in it when she got tired.
My family is very supportive, I have savings to cover whatever the final medical expenses will be. Lola was 14 (and 1/2!) and spoiled rotten. I hope she knows I loved her and did my best to take care of her. I hope she knows that’s why I took her to the hospital and wasn’t too scared there.
I’m not good at talking about my feelings. I just end up crying and I don’t like crying so I try to avoid it. I don’t really want or need anything other than for this not to have happened, which isn’t something anyone can provide. I think writing this all out has helped. But this happened today, and it fucking sucks.
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jxneun · 5 years
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[one-shot] say nothing more, baby
Pairing: implied Yamato/Taichi from Digimon Adventure 
Rating: pg-13, tw: Character death, Hanahaki disease
fic inspiration from the song “like i need u” by keshi.
laying in bed waiting for your touch
Restless, tossing and turning
in the dead of the night, ears ringing
stay with me
nauseous, dizzy
eyes growing misty
i don’t want to be alone
filled with regret
wanting to reset
you don’t need me like i need you
yellow carnations bloomed,
these unwanted feelings consumed
wish we never met
left the boy torn, dragged through the mud
petals tainted by splotches of blood
pain, that’s an option
an inevitable infection
trauma inflicted on the destined
Yamato Ishida was stunned.
Lost in the confines of Tokyo U Hospital, the blonde felt lost in the eerie feeling the sterile white walls gave. Takeru was by his side when he received the call from Hikari. Speechless, with his lungs threatening to collapse after running into the unfamiliar building, especially upon hearing the news from his best friend’s little sister, whose voice was hoarse on the phone and reduced to mere whispers, as if she had just mustered up the strength to speak on the phone after sobbing relentlessly, informed them that his best friend was in the hospital.
His best friend, Taichi.
His partner-in-crime aside from Gabumon, his comrade, his best friend, his inspiration.
His exuberance, a demeanor akin to no other, shined brighter than a thousand suns. His smiles and laughter imprinted in his memory, alongside the desperately thrown fists and tears, reminded him of home.
For a disease that is allegedly produced in fictional Japanese literature, a disease that is observed to have been a direct result of unrequited love. The physical manifestation of the psychological pain, exacerbated further by heartache, was akin to somatoform disorders, but the disease had limited primary research findings on it as to the origin of the disease. Perhaps, this just served as a cruel reminder that God ceased to care. 
Hanahaki disease, a disease ultimately caused from prolonged and extreme pain as a direct result of grieving a lost, unreturned love; painfully beautiful, it was equally fatal, with patients dying within mere days. Going from perfectly healthy, to frail and on the verge of death, all from an unreciprocated love. . 
Hikari found out, after finding Taichi collapsed in his room in the late afternoon, with blood and petals left at the scene. Next to him, was the referral from the doctor’s.
Prognosis: severe case of alleged Hanahaki disease.
Duration: onset of disease, 2 weeks with the patient remaining mostly asymptomatic. Flareup occurred on March 4.
Symptoms: Coughing, blood in sputum, dizziness, nausea, fever, mood swings
Condition of patient: requires immediate treatment as soon as possible. Dr. Narukami M.D. at Odaiba General Family Clinic referral to Tokyo U Hospital. Immediate surgery recommended within 1 week, otherwise proven fatal, may result in asphyxiation due to uncontrolled growth of yellow carnations in lungs.
It was a cruel reminder, that fate was never on their side.
They were chosen as children to be the Digidestined, thrown into the Digi World; they were merely children whose clothes were far too big for them, children whose appetites exceeded their stomach capacity, children who were burdened and pressured as result of their parents’ problems and the weight of the world on their shoulders.
Feeble attempts to return to their world, turned into a mission to save both the Digi World and their world. Achieving the impossible, such as going through worlds via portals or a digital device to fight infected Digimon served as a reminder that in their world, the impossible could very easily be feasible. Taichi was resilient, he was a natural born leader. He was an athlete, his immune system stronger than no other, his appetite overwhelmingly large as a growing boy, his demeanor and boisterous laughter so full of life.
Yet, Yamato could not help feeling shocked.
Pale, with a weary smile that masked the pain, Taichi appeared sick, decrepit, and so, exhausted. Feeble attempts to muster up greetings, and reassurances to not worry, since he felt fine, and that he had accepted the outcome. The outcome that his love had not returned his feelings, the love whose identity remained unknown to Yamato. It was too late for preventative care, Taichi had refused to come in for early checkups, and the buds had sprouted into fully grown, beautiful carnations. Carnations that were equally deadly, unfortunate, and tragic.
A mixture of resentment, bitterness, mirth and frustration bubbled in his chest. Yamato was puzzled. Who could Taichi possibly be so in love with, that his love had left him incapacitated? Who would not return their feelings for the brunette boy? Shaking his head, Yamato recollected himself, but his thoughts were interrupted by a series of coughs.
If he did not know that Hanahaki disease was not contagious, he would have thought the persistent scratch and gnawing at his throat was a sign.
The image of Taichi laying in his hospital bed was burnt into his memory, as he quickly was escorted out of the room. One of Taichi’s coughing fits had erupted, so Hikari and Takeru quickly rushed out into the hallway to call the nurse. With blood staining the corners of his mouth, and full blown flowers blooming, Yamato could never forget the image imprinted into his memory of the boy who was reminiscent of courage, ambition, and hope. The stems and leaves filled his esophagus, the sprouts depleted his already limited air supply, and petals covered by blood and bile filled the bucket next to his bed; the damage had clearly taken a toll on the boy, and fast. The nurses escorted Yamato out, reuniting him with Takeru and Hikari, who were lucky to not witness the emptiness in Taichi’s eyes, almost as if he had expected this outcome, but did not let anybody know, due to his stubbornness. Taichi, whose voice was painfully hoarse, made feeble attempts to speak to Yamato, despite his earlier coughing fits. Yet, the following words he muttered left Yamato in an intense flurry of emotions,
“Yamato, please go.”
Patient ID: 4242564
DOB: 05/19/19XX
Patient Name: Yagami, Taichi
Diagnosis: Hanahaki Disease
Treatment: Immediate surgery to restore respiratory functioning. Requires removal of yellow carnation flowers from lungs, which are constricting air supply.
Expected recovery: If successful, 7-8 months with rest, close monitoring from family members in case of flare ups.
The paper that Hikari was holding, despite being a thin sheet with printed letters, felt like a quick dose of reality. Hikari called her parents, giving them updates, and the address of the surgery unit. Her parents, frantic and deeply afraid, just as they were when they heard that the kids were returning to the Digital World as mere children, had a semblance of hope amidst their worries. They wanted to put their trust and faith into the medical professionals at the highly-esteemed hospital.
They had giant digital dinosaurs and birds appear in Odaiba. How far-fetched was this disease occurring in their world, really?
Yamato felt torn. Usually, the two were able to communicate non-verbally; after all, Taichi wore his heart on his sleeve. Yet, this time, he simply could not understand. He did not even know that Taichi even loved someone, to the point where he had secretly gone to the doctor's and hid the fact that he needed immediate medical attention. He endured the pain to the point that Hikari had found him cold and lifeless on the floor with the petals scattered around him; the thought of the flowers taunted him, and reminded him of his friend, whose demeanor was untypical of the brunette. The unspoken communication between them bewildered Yamato, and scared him.
Knuckles growing white, his tight grip crumpled and threatened to rip the sheet of paper. Jaw clenched, tears threatening to spill, Yamato was so tense, and furious that the world was against them, and had decided to hurt his friend, his formerly abrasive and reckless friend whose compassion and courage had saved hundreds, if not thousands of people. His friend, whose stubborn nature, was easily just as self-sacrificing and selfless, had demanded his best friend to leave the room, so that he would not have to see him in that state.
With a mirthful chuckle, Yamato wiped away at his tears, which threatened to spill at any given moment. His vision was blurry, and the noise coming from the bustling hospital was deafening. Bitterly, he thought to himself, denouncing the way that movies portrayed grief. His world of color did not come to a halt; traffic lights beamed, and the city of Tokyo was still lively as ever. His world of color, instead was muted, and it was difficult to concentrate on anything. He had dropped everything he was doing, when he received the call from Hikari. He couldn’t stop thinking about Taichi, and his bleary eyes, raw from the hours of crying in the waiting room, failed to shield him from his obstructive thoughts in facing this cruel reality. Hikari was sobbing, almost hysterical. Takeru comforted her, holding her closely, his tight embrace and face buried in her shoulders indicator enough that he was just as distraught. Taichi’s parents rushed into the emergency room, demanding to be at their eldest son’s side. Demanding answers, the duo were frustrated, as to why there were no other forms of treatment, or medication.
To this, the nurses shook their head, despite the couple’s insistence. Taichi was transferred to the intensive care unit of the Tokyo U hospital, and the nurses informed the Yagamis: Taichi, in an unconscious state, is physically unable to consent to the procedure. It was up to the Yagami family to decide whether they should proceed or not. The implications of the surgery was that Taichi would possibly never be the same afterwards, his lungs were salvageable, but his memories would be in fragments.
With such an intrusive procedure, it was difficult to tell how Taichi’s body would heal afterwards, or if he had a strong chance of surviving it. Yet at the same time, this was life-or-death. Hikari, after maintaining her composure, softly asked the questions everyone was thinking,
“Could we please see him? Will he be okay?”
This was all because of deceivingly harmless yellow carnations. His louder-than-life friend, who effortlessly ran from goal to goal and led his football team to victory, was the same person who passionately sprinted across the Digital World to save his friends; this same person looked unrecognizable, frail, and passive. All because of some flowers.
Yellow carnations, the flowers representative of rejection, bitterness, an unrequited love, are simultaneously considered the flower of friendship.
As if time went still, the low-light fluorescent fixtures of the hospital building and the vision of the Yagami family and his brother grew hazy. Yamato felt a sharp, sudden pain in his chest. Unable to hide the discomfort on his face, he excused himself as to not worry the others.
In the restroom, even with the dim lighting, the scene before him was unmistakable. 
Orange petals accumulated in the sink, and he was left breathless.
After a quick google search, he realized the cluster of orange petals consisted of marigolds. Marigolds symbolized strong passion, being associated with a legendary brave and courageous lion. 
At the same time, they represented cruelty, grief, and jealousy. How ironic.
Fate really was mocking him.
no time for nonsense
courage and friendship
a will weaning, weaker than his grip
can’t ask you nothing
grip on this fate
a fate he realized too late
drank, feeling nauseous
Scared and breathless
Oh, he could never guess
too many toxins
to the last beeps on the monitor, the angels sing
yet, what’s left is this scratchy, lingering sting
not even conscious
sheets blood-stained red
regret, from words left unsaid
say nothing more, baby
unvoiced emotions which undoubtedly dictate
the harsh decisions made at this rate
say nothing more 
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itisannak · 5 years
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Don’t die on me (Ashton Irwin Angst)
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Summary: Ashton is badly injured, and (Y/N) doesn't leave his side for one bit. Based on Angst Prompt #15: "Don't die on me. Please..."  (TW: Mention of death / Mention of Mugging / Hospital Setting) (Y'all are going to hate me.) (Request) (Words: 2.4k)
'You need to come to the hospital... Now.' The text lit up my screen, the sound of the message catching my attention. I turn my gaze from my computer to my phone, reading the text from Luke. First thing first, it is rare for Luke to be up at 4 in the morning; the man loves to sleep. And then, why do I need to go to the hospital? And which hospital? I pick up my phone, deciding to call him for more details. One time, two times, three and he picks it up. His breath is harsh and rushed as he picks up the phone. "Lu, what is going on?" I ask, cutting straight to the point. "Ashton got mugged. He was beaten up badly. Get here now." He sounds panicked; my stomach drops, mouth getting dry and my mind still spinning as I try to wrap around what has just happened. "Which hospital?" I manage to ask, closing my laptop and pushing myself off my desk chair. "St. Vincent. Hurry." He replies and the line goes dead. 'Hurry.' He wouldn't be telling me to hurry if it wasn't an emergency. Which means that Ashton is in danger... My knees feel weak at the thought of it, but I refuse to believe that. Ashton is fine, Ashton is ok... He will be ok. I repeat in my head, almost like a prayer, almost like I am trying to convince fate that he has to be alright.
I didn't even change out of my homewear, I didn't even realize that I made it to the hospital. I was crying the whole ride there, my driver knew better than to ask me any questions or try to engage in a conversation. I pay for the ride and rush to get out of the car, running to the entrance of the hospital. I just want to get in, find they guys and hear that in the minutes it took me to get here, Ashton got better, that they have treated them and he will be fine. That in the end, I didn't need to rush that badly. "(Y/N)..." I hear a familiar voice call me as I enter the hospital. I turn around and find Calum waiting for me by the emergency entrance. I take in his face, red and stained with tears, I take in his body, tensed and stiff. His shoulders are dropped low, and he is looking at me with pity and sadness. "No... Don't you dare look at me like that. He is fine." I try to cut this bullshit off, but Calum shakes his head negatively. "They beat him up badly. It was hard for us to even recognize him. And the doctors... They said it is bad... They said that there are chances he..." Calum stops looking at me, not daring to let out the words. "No! Don't you ever doubt him. He is the strongest and most stubborn person I know. He is going to be fine." I almost scold him, but Calum comes closer to me and hugs me. "He has been asking for you. He is not consenting to any procedures until he sees you." Calum explains and I look at him weirdly. "That means he is still conscious. That's good. But why me?" I ask as we walk further inside. Calum shrugs his shoulders and rubs his eyes. "I don't know. I am scared, (Y/N). I am scared that he is only keeping up to see you. And now that you are here..." He breaks down sobbing. I try to hold it together, hug him and rub his shoulder to soothe him.
We walk to where the rest of the visitors are gathered, finding everyone either looking blank or sobbing. "I'll tell the doctors you are here." Calum walks away to where the doctors are examining. Everything is blurry, all of the sounds becoming hazy and banging in my brain. "You can go in. But they will only give you 5 minutes." Calum explains and I nod, gulping the lump in my throat before I follow the nurse who smiles sympathetically at me. Ashton is surrounded by doctors, all of them whispering some course of treatment. "Leave us alone..." Ashton struggles to talk. The doctors look at me before the move out of the room, only one staying by the door.
I walk to the bed, watching Ashton hold onto the ventilator mask. He smiles at me softly, taking the mask off his face. "Keep it, you need it." I try to reason him. He extends his hand to me weakly, and I rush to him, knowing better than to torture him for long. "I need to talk to you before it is too late." He wheezes; I close my eyes, fighting to stay calm and not show him how much it pains me to watch him in this condition. "You have time. You can tell me whatever it is that you want to tell me after they take care of you." I almost beg him, pointing to the crowd of doctors outside the room. "There is not enough time. Let me speak." He brings the mask to his face, taking a big breath into it. I nod my head and wipe the tears running from my eyes, smiling as I turn to look at him. "I love you. I have been in love with you since the day you stepped into that party. I love everything about you, from your smile to how your mind works. I love you so much that it hurts me to think I would ever have to pass away without telling you. I wish I had more time. I wish I had more time to spend with you. And I am sorry I don't. But I wanted to tell you. I wanted you to know that you are the most extraordinary person in my world and when I die tonight, I will be gone knowing that I let you know, even on my very last minute." He only stops to take breaths from the ventilator. "You are wrong. You will not die tonight. You will not, I will not let that happen. You are going to be ok and you are going to take me out on a date. And you are going to have all the time in the world to love me and be loved by me. Because I love you too. So, please, let them take care of you, fix you up and I will be right here waiting for you to take me on that date. Don't die on me, please..." I lean in to kiss the side of his mouth before I motion the doctors to come in.
I get out of the room, gasping for air as I collapse on the floor, letting myself cry my heart out. I bring my knees to my chest, sobbing at the thought of living without him. Especially now that I know he loves me. Now that I get to finally have him. He can't die. If there is God, Ashton will not be taken away from me. "(Y/N)?" Calum kneels down next to me, followed by the rest of the guys. A nurse rushes to me as well, kneeling down to check on me. "He can't die. No... He can't." I mumble, unable to move from the floor. "He won't. He will be fine and we will be thinking about this day and laugh about it. He will be fine." Sierra kneels in front of me, holding my face in her hands.
--
Luke hands me a cup of coffee, taking a seat next to me in the waiting room. "You should go back home and rest a bit. Eat, have a shower, sleep. Maybe go to work. He won't wake up anytime soon." Luke whispers, placing a hand on my shoulder. I shake my head no, taking a sip of my coffee. "I am not leaving. Not until he wakes up. I have taken some personal days off work and I paid one of the nurses to let me shower in the changing room. And your girlfriend shoves food down my throat every 10 minutes. I am fine. You should head home. All of you. If something happens, I will call you." I state, pointing to the people sleeping on the chairs of the waiting room. "No one is leaving. We are here until he wakes up." He says. "It's been 3 days. Go home for an hour or two. Take care of Petunia. Maybe bring me some clothes to change." I reach in my pocket for my keys, handing them to him. He looks at me and sighs, nodding his head. "We will be back in a few hours." He sighs, getting up to wake Sierra up. "I'll call you if anything happens." I rest back on my chair, keeping my cup close to my face for warmth.
I manage to rest my eyes for about 20 minutes before Calum tries to throw his jacket on me to warm me up. I groan and sit up, watching him sit down on the chair next to me. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up." He apologizes, smiling softly. "It's alright. I didn't need more sleep." I brush it off. I look around me, finding that the rest of the gang is gone, except Ashton's mother, who flew over to be here for her son. "They will be back in a couple of hours. I convinced them to take shifts being here, so we can rest a bit." "I am staying all day. No shifts." I reply and he nods. "I figured. So I told everyone to come over with decent food and good coffee for you. But you will wilt if you keep doing that." He sighs. "It will be over when he wakes up. I will get better when he does." I reply. Calum nods his head, rubbing his eyes. "What did he tell you? When you got into the room... You were the last person he spoke to before the surgeries, before the comma." He asks me, turning his body so he can look at me. "He told me he loves me. And I told him I do too. And then I told him he needs to get better so he can take me on a date. He loves me." I feel my eyes brim with tears. "He finally told you? That took him a while..." Calum laughs, rubbing his thumb over my hand. "You knew?" I ask and he chuckles. "Practically everyone but you knew. He will be fine. He has to, now that he knows you two have a chance together. He won't let that go to waste. He loves you." Calum comforts me. I lean my head on his shoulder, smiling at the thought of spending a life with him.
--
I never thought I would have to go through this. I never thought I would be walking behind his casket, followed by every single one of his friends and family. I tried to cover my puffy eyes with a pair of sunglasses, but it is more than obvious that I am sobbing under them. His mom looks devastated, on the verge of collapsing. Parents are not supposed to be burying their children. Calum, Luke, and Michael are sticking together, trying to soothe themselves while Sierra and Crystal try to comfort Lauren and Harry. I asked them to leave me alone. They didn't obey me. So, then I snapped. I told them I would beat their asses if they even think to come near me during the funeral.
Ashton never got out of the comma; the doctors told us after 40 days that the chances for him to wake up are slim to none. For 40 days, no one dared leave the hospital for more than 2 hours, no one had the courage. For 40 days, we held our breaths and prayed silently. But he had no signs of brain activity. So, his mother decided that since he didn't show any signs of getting better, Ashton would have to get off of life support. We gathered inside his room, all of us crying, all of us cursing fate for that. The doctors talked us through the procedure, step by step. But I never got a moment, just me and him. I didn't get to hold him as he breathed his last breath. I didn't get to comfort him in his last moments. I never got my love story with him. I watch as they lower the casket in the ground. I watch as everyone goes silent, as they throw flowers in his grave. They never caught the person or people who did that to him. At least not until now. But they have no leads, so it might as well be a dead end. I feel dissociated from all of this like I am having an out-of-body experience while the man I have been loving for so long is buried. Like all of this is just a dream. All of this is just a dream. This is just a dream. Just a dream. A dream.
"Baby, baby, wake up..." I am shaken by Ashton. I open my eyes, finding him hovering over me as he grabs me by my shoulder, shaking me out of sleep. I gasp for air, reaching to touch his face, his skin, to realize he is here, flesh and bones, alive, breathing and existing. That I am not into a Black Mirror episode or shit. "You are here..." I gasp, feeling myself sweating. "I am here, baby." He places a hand on my bulging stomach, stroking my baby bump. "It was a dream..." I sigh, hugging him close to my body. "Did you see that I died again?" He asks, handing me the glass of water on the bedside table. "Yeah, I saw you never woke up from the comma." I reply after I take a sip of water. "But I did, baby. I woke up and I am fine. It was just a nightmare." He reminds me, leaving a kiss on my forehead. "You are fine, I am fine, the baby is fine." I remind myself, resting back on my pillow. "Everyone's fine. I promise." He plants a kiss on my lips before he brings his lips to my belly, leaving a kiss on it too. "Will you cuddle me back to sleep?" I ask and he hums, wrapping his arm around my waist, palm resting below my belly button. "Wanna hear the prettiest story?" He asks and I purr in approval. "It is about how I got the prettiest girl in the world to become my wife." He whispers, kissing my shoulder blade.
My Masterlist
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COVID update short version:
diagnosed with secondary bacterial pneumonia, managed to get medication to treat that. inhaler has kept me out of the ER for the last 10 days, which is a godsend, and the pneumonia is drastically improving, though the COVID is still there and probably going to (new GP’s estimate) take another week to start even remotely feeling like i’m recovering.
slightly longer version (cw medical abuse):
this entire thing is so nightmarish not only because it requires new prescriptions (and for some unholy reason only my neuro checks to make sure i’m not allergic to inactive ingredients in medication she prescribes, why is this so difficult) but also like
threat of having to go into the ER/hospital, which is probably top 5 biggest things that set me into full-blown panic mode, but not only that. no, it’s the looming threat of having to go in alone, with no advocate, and no witnesses. which is at least top 2, up there with needles in or near my nerves as the other champion.
i cannot physically handle being given a hospital band and being thrown to the wolves anymore, because i’ve had so many nightmare-inducing incidents in the past six years that i just can’t physically trust doctors not to kill me if someone isn’t watching them.
inducing allergic reactions despite me informing them multiple times and getting confirmation that they heard me because they didn’t believe me, sometimes despite photographic evidence? check.
fucking up so badly trying to place an iv that ER nurses later balked at the damage, and yelling at me and continuing to try when i politely requested she stop trying and get another nurse until a colleague walked by to see what was taking so long and intervened? check.
conducting outpatient operations that i did not consent to having them do because i needed a PICC placed anyway, so what did it matter if an orthopedic just jammed it right into my elbow while i was unconscious, because he was so just confident he could do it despite never having done that? check.
ending up bleeding profusely in the emergency room not even twelve hours later because he did it wrong, almost gave me more chemical burns, and didn’t put the thing back together correctly after my parents forced him back into the OR to fix it? check.
being stabbed nine times in the arm while crying and pleading for the line placement specialist, who was actually trained in this shit to stop because she was running into my nerve with all her missed line placements, resulting in brachial monoplegia? check. 
pushing a line in so far despite my protests that they sent me into afib? check.
like, this is all in addition to not being listened to, my genetic disorder being discredited because they don’t believe me about that, not taking concerns about their decisions or even non-skeptical questions about treatment or diagnosis seriously.
so the tldr, probably should have gone to the hospital day 3, did not do that and managed to pull myself through it with sheer spite and terror alone (and liberal use of albuterol).
at least i got to put the next withdrawal off a month.
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Expecting the Unexpected Part 1
I’m excited to share with you all my first official series! I cant wait for you all to read it!
Warnings: LOTS of angst, some fluff, child illness
Word Count: 1.9K
Summary: When Joe gets back from his recent business trip he notices something is up with your new little one. Can an urgent ER trip can change your lives for good?
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From the moment you found out you were pregnant, you couldn’t wait to see Joe’s reaction. His dream of being a father was finally coming true but you never expected both of your dreams to take a turn for the worst.
Almost 4 months after your sweet little girl was born, Joe noticed that Scarlet wasn’t her usual giggly self when he came home from set. She was very quiet, sleeping a bit more than usual and started to get a little fever every so often. You noticed this too but just assumed it was the nerves and protectiveness of being a new parent. Joe had no other option than to call his mom because we had no idea what we were supposed to do at that point.
You could tell by the tone in her voice that she knew something was far worse than you both expected but she just insisted to take Scarlet to the hospital right away to be cautious. She told us not to worry but anything with the word ‘Scarlet’ and ‘hospital’ in the same sentence instantly sparked the fear for the worst within you and Joe.
While Joe finished talking with his mom you when to go wake up Scarlet from her nap when you noticed a new bruise on her forehead. Tears began falling from your eyes as you realized her illness might be much worse than you thought and it was your fault. Joe could hear your sobs from downstairs and rushed up the staircase to find you collapsed on the floor while your daughter still lies in her crib sound asleep. Joe quickly rushed to your side and encased you within his warm arms, your wet sobs soaking his shirt.
“Darling what’s wrong? Scarlet is still asleep.”
“Joe she has a bruise on her forehead and it wasn’t there when I laid her down an hour ago.”
“Y/N she’s still a baby and babies get bruises.”
“Joe what’s if she sick because of me. What if I did something wrong? What if this is all my fault.”
“Babe we don’t even know if she’s sick. She could just be teething.”
“Joey, babies don’t just get bruises while they sleep.”
“You didn’t cause this. We will take her to the hospital and they will tell us she is going to be fine.”
“You heard your mom’s voice though Joe. She didn’t sound like it was just the symptoms of teething.”
“Y/N everything is going to be fine. I promise. If it’s not then we are going to get through this. All of us. Together.”
I could only hope Joe was right. Am I just overreacting?
Joe lifted Scarlet from her crib, still sound asleep in his arms, her lips partly spread to where you could hear her subtle snores. You finished packing the rest of the things you might need and grabbed the diaper bag while rushing out the door. You wondered how Joe was so calm during the whole situation. How he could be so strong while you were a complete disaster. You couldn’t take your eyes off of Scarlet for most of the car ride, constantly watching to make sure she was breathing, the steady rise and fall of her chest. It was only when Joe grabbed your hand and placed a tender kiss to it did you finally look away. His face still hiding the tears of complete fear that you had been feeling yourself all morning. He never let go of your hand for the entire trip, giving it a tight squeeze every now and then to ensure that you knew he was still yours. Every squeeze made your heart ache with love but still somehow managed to calm your nerves.
As you pulled into the parking lot of the ER, Joe looked at you with the softest of eyes, still glassy from the tears that were yet to fall. You could tell he was scared just as much as you were but he wasn’t going to let you know that. He was your rock. He had to be, for the both of you. He softly kisses your lips once, then again this time more passionately, falling deeper into your touch.
“Are you ready to do this love?” he said, his voice still quiet trying not to wake the little child.
“As ready as a scared new mom will ever be I guess.”
“Everything will be fine, Scarlet will be fine.”
“Just...Don’t let go of my hand please. Don’t ever let go.”
“I wouldn’t for the world love.”
The waiting room was surprisingly empty. The quiet hum from the lights flooding the halls. Joe went to go and sign in for you so you could just relax and hold your precious little one. You admire every feature of her face as if it was your last. Her soft auburn hair, just like her daddy’s, gentle dark brown eyes with hints of green throughout, her full puffy lips like yours. Everything about her was perfect. She was the perfect mix of you both.
When Joe came back, he cradled Scarlet in one arm and grasped you in the other. Holding you both so close as if he would never get to again. You both wished it was nothing, that Scarlet would be just fine, but deep down you both knew it wasn’t just teething symptoms. He kissed your forehead every now and then to make sure you were awake. It had almost been an hour before the nurse called the three of you back. The halls were so cold and empty. The walls filled with pictures of charts and graphs. It wasn’t the most friendly of places to want to be.
The nurse guided you into a private room, considering you husband’s status, and left to get some initial checkup supplies. Joe never let go of Scarlet. He wouldn’t put her down unless he absolutely had to. You loved how much he cared for her, for you. He never stopped loving either of you. You felt the same. The love you had for him would never fail to grow. Each day more passionate than the next. Suddenly your phone vibrated on the hospital chair.
“Breaking News: Joe Mazzello and wife Y/N Mazzello seen taking daughter into Mount Sinai Kravis Children's Hospital.”
“Joe-”
Joe takes the phone from you only to quickly place it back down beside him.
“Don’t worry about it, it’s just paparazzi.”
“Joe what are the people gonna think? What if they blame us.”
“Y/N who cares what the people think. We are here for Scarlet. Nothing else matters.”
He was right. The press only made your mind wander from the anxiety you were feeling about this emergency visit, your mind was racing.
The doctor soon came in after the nurse did Scarlet’s initial exam.
“Excuse me sir but do you mind laying her down on the exam table please.” the doctor said in the most annoyed and rushed tone.
Joe looked at him hesitantly but you had to nudge his arm for him to come back to reality. Scarlet was still bundled in her blanket with the stuffed rabbit in her tiny hold, but you and Joe both knew it might be days before the either of you could sleep they way she could. The doctor had a sense of worry in his face. The lines on his forehead becoming more prominent as he continues to exam your daughter’s bruised head. It was almost as if he new it was bad, but he wasn’t going to show any sense of worry until he absolutely had to. He order a nurse to have Scarlet’s bloodwork sent off immediately.
“Do you mind if we take your little one to get a couple of x-rays done?”
You could sense Joe becoming more and more tense as the question continued to pour out of the doctors mouth.
“Not at all, anything to ensure she is healthy.” you managed to spill out the words that seemed impossible to form. Joe looked at you with his puffy eyes. You could tell he was holding back every tear that was yet to run from his eyes.
“Joey it’s ok. She gonna be ok.”
“I’m so scared babe. I know she will be fine but this is all becoming so real.”
He finally let loose. Tears spilling from his eyes and not long after yours too. You were both scared out of your minds over something as silly as a bruise. Being a parent was tough, but being a new parent was something else.
It had been about 20 minutes before the nurse brought back your sweet little girl. Joe quickly encased her in his arms almost as if he was never going to let go of her again.
“The doctor should be back with your results in a few minutes.”
“Thank you so much.” He said continuing to focus his eyes on the now awake child. Her eyes red from crying but still looking into yours and Joe eyes with a smile on her precious face.
As soon as the doctor enters the room you can feel the tense presence rise. Something wasn’t right.
“I’m afraid I have some unfortunate news.” the doctor said sorrowfully, his eyes almost pulling away from the both of you.
“We ran her bloodwork through pathology and they found something quite alarming but we didn’t know for sure. That’s why we asked you for consent of her X-rays.”
“What are you saying?” you said holding back the streams of tears from running down your face. Joe looked at you with every fear you both shared.
“Scarlet she-“ the doctor paused for a moment knowing the rest he had to say was going to change your lives forever.
“She has something called Pilocytic astrocytoma. It’s a common form of childhood brain cancer.”
His words didn’t full register until you saw your husband sob. Tears running down his face unable to stop. They were running down your face too. You felt so empty inside. Like there was nothing left. Everything was ripped right from your hands. Joe wouldn’t let go of either of you. His grip held so tight between you.
“Now I know this seems scary but I want you to know that most children with this diagnosis have a 95% survival rate and we have the best treatments options provided to you.” his words left his mouth so easily you couldn’t wrap your head around it. He just told you that your child has cancer and expressed no different emotion than he would to someone with the flu.
Your life was changing and it wasn’t for the better. Your only child, the light in yours and Joe’s life, had cancer. Joe looked at you with sorrow, his expression empty, but his love grew stronger. You both would cherish every moment together like it was you last, but what was next?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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radfemetc · 5 years
Link
(The article is behind a paywall so I’m putting it here. You can also register to read 2 free articles a week.)
Inside the clinic rooms of the Tavistock, the private heartache of a new generation of “transgender” youngsters is being laid bare. There used to be about 50 referrals a year, mainly males with a history of gender issues.
Now there are thousands of young females reporting a sudden gender crisis for the first time. Many are convinced that transition — and the powerful drugs that make it happen — will be the solution to their problems.
Until now the specialists struggling to keep up with caseloads have stayed silent, but alarm over the number of adolescents being prescribed body-altering drugs, has prompted five former clinicians to speak out for the first time.
All five have resigned from the Gender Identity Development Service (GIDS) in the past three years as a matter of conscience.
“This experimental treatment is being done not only on children, but very vulnerable children, who have experienced mental health difficulties, abuse, family trauma, but sometimes those [other factors] just get whitewashed,” one female clinician said. “If someone was suggesting plastic surgery or any other permanent change we’d be saying, hang on a minute.”
The clinicians have warned that complex histories and adolescent confusion over possible homosexuality are being ignored in the rush to accept and celebrate every young person’s new transgender identity.
Clinical psychologists carry out each initial assessment at the Tavistock. They are the gatekeepers who decide whether to refer transgender youngsters to the endocrine clinic for the next stage of treatment. Therapists once had months to work through underlying issues before making decisions on medical intervention, but the clinicians claim that young people are now routinely referred for hormone therapy after as few as three hour-long sessions.
They believe that physically healthy children are being medicated in response to pressure from transgender lobby groups and parental anxieties.
So many potentially gay children were being sent down the pathway to change gender, two of the clinicians said there was a dark joke among staff that “there would be no gay people left”.
“It feels like conversion therapy for gay children,” one male clinician said. “I frequently had cases where people started identifying as trans after months of horrendous bullying for being gay,” he told The Times.
“Young lesbians considered at the bottom of the heap suddenly found they were really popular when they said they were trans.”
Another female clinician said: “We heard a lot of homophobia which we felt nobody was challenging. A lot of the girls would come in and say, ‘I’m not a lesbian. I fell in love with my best girl friend but then I went online and realised I’m not a lesbian, I’m a boy. Phew.’”
The specialists expressed concern at how little confusion over sexuality was explored when a young person requested treatment to change their body.
“I would ask who they wanted to have relationships with, but I was told by senior management that gender is completely separate to sex,” a third female clinician said. “I couldn’t get on board with that, because it isn’t. Some people were transitioning their gender to match their sexuality.”
The service said it was “a welcoming place for people from all sections of the LGBT community”, adding that it had made exploration of sexuality a “more explicit” part of the assessment in response to staff concerns.
Nevertheless, the clinician said that her unease grew after meeting an adult woman whose transition to become a man involved having a double mastectomy. She had since changed her mind.
“What can we do? We can’t reverse that. Do we suggest fake breasts?” she said. “We have such a duty of care to these confused young adolescents, but I think we are failing them.”
The clinic rejected the claims. “We always place a young person’s wellbeing at the centre of our work,” it said. “GIDS staff are engaged daily in thinking about the serious ethical dimensions of our practice. The diversity and complexity of individual cases will always be respected.”
Several clinicians suspected that some of the “transgender” adolescents were reacting to homophobia at home.
“For some families, it was easier to say, this is a medical problem, ‘here’s my child, please fix them!’ than dealing with a young, gay kid,” the third female clinician said. At the service’s “family days”, a parent was allegedly heard saying that they did not want their child to have gay friends because they “didn’t want them mixed up in that hedonistic lifestyle”. “It is converting people into heterosexuals,” one of the clinicians said. “We had so many families who would talk about not wanting their daughters to be lesbian.” Young people “repeatedly” confided their own “disgust” that they may be gay, according to the clinician.
In other cases, she felt young people had concluded they were trans because they didn’t fit traditional gender roles.
“Children’s bodies are being damaged in order to treat societal issues,” she warned. She recalled a case of a 13-year-old child “whose parents were really pressurising us for puberty blockers”. When the clinician refused to refer him, she claims one of the parents, a lawyer, wrote threatening legal letters to the service. The child was eventually referred for blockers.
She would have nightmares about her years at the Tavistock. “I would talk about it as an ‘atrocity’. I know that sounds quite strong, but it felt as if we were part of something that people would look back on in the future, and ask, what were we thinking? In the future I think there will be lots and lots of de-transitioners who feel their bodies were mutilated as young people and who will ask, why did you let me do this? It is very disturbing.”
Studies show that the vast majority of youngsters who begin puberty blockers go on to have irreversible hormone treatment at 16. Some go on to have gender reassignment surgery as adults.
All five clinicians expressed concern over how little young people and their families were being told about the impact of hormone treatment on fertility and sexual function as adults. One claimed young people were unable to give “informed consent” because it was regarded as taboo to discuss the impact of medical intervention on later sexual function in such a young cohort.
The clinic said there were no “taboo” subjects in its work, and that it did not “recognise this allegation as reflecting what happens in the service”. It rejected allegations of conversion therapy and insisted that youngsters were being properly advised on the risks of and about what is unknown about medical intervention. Time and care was taken at every stage to ensure that individuals grasped the potential consequences of their choices, it said, adding that the service had become “increasingly aware” of the need to discuss the impact of treatment on future sexual function.
The GIDS’s own internal review identified procedures around consent as an area of concern. It has recommended that written consent should be obtained before referral for blockers.
Another clinician described how youngsters entered his room enthusing about Alex Bertie, a transgender YouTuber, and My Life: I Am Leo, a documentary about a transgender teen broadcast in a teatime slot on CBBC.
“These are very simplified stories about how easy it would be to transition into being trans. . . that transition is a solution to feeling shit. That is very appealing to lots of teenagers,” the first male clinician said. I felt for the last two years what kept me in the job was the sense there was a huge number of children in danger and I was there to protect them from the service, from the inside.”
One female clinician estimates that she referred about 50 young people for puberty blockers. She now believes she referred too many. Their outcomes remain unclear. “When you start them on puberty blockers, you’re putting them on a pathway that could lead to sexual dysfunction problems and, for the younger kids, will definitely make them infertile. In what other specialism would physical intervention that leads to permanent change to the body be the first line of treatment for a vulnerable child? Activists will tell you it’s unethical not to intervene. But we know that not everyone with gender dysphoria will go on to identify as trans for the rest of their lives.”
One case has haunted her. “All the pushing was coming from the father to put the kid on puberty blockers. Thinking back on it now, I fear that the father was a paedophile and the child was being abused.” There is no suggestion the service knowingly ignored the case, and the outcome is unknown.
The clinic, which is run by the Tavistock and Portman Foundation Trust and whose director is Polly Carmichael, says it is tracking the progress of 44 young people who began puberty blockers in 2011, and that all available evidence is discussed with families. “This is a rapidly developing field and psychosocial and medical professionals are working hard to ensure that we respond to emerging evidence in an appropriate and considered way,” a spokesman said. The growing body of international evidence showed that “thus far, there is little reported evidence of harm,” he added.
“The service undertakes careful assessments over time and continues to see young people whether or not they attend the endocrine clinic following this assessment,” the spokesman said.
The clinic said it was aware of concerns and tensions between different perspectives raised by staff and “clinicians have a duty of care to raise safeguarding concerns”, adding that there were “safe spaces” and structures in place for staff to discuss anything that worried them. It would not comment on specific cases but stressed that a young person’s motivations and choices were discussed at each step.
What began in 1989 as a specialist clinic for gender issues is now under intense scrutiny. A report by David Bell, a former governor at the trust, revealed ethical concerns over “woefully inadequate care”. Staff were furious with the GIDS executive’s response to the report, which stated that its own review found no safeguarding concerns.
The whole service should have been halted when the number of “transgender” cases first exploded, one of the clinicians said. “That’s the point we should have stopped because we didn’t know what we were doing. Are we a service for kids with gender dysphoria, a medical disorder? Or are we a service for ‘transgender kids’?”
A GIDS spokesman said: “We are aware of tensions between different perspectives. These differences are inevitable in such complex work.”
One clinician said it was understandable if her former employer was defensive, saying: “If they are getting it wrong, you have to ask, are they making kids infertile by mistake? Because if they are to truly acknowledge [our concerns], then they will have to ask themselves, what the f*** have we done to thousands of children?”
Gires, GI and Mermaids all denied they viewed transition as a cure-all or that they exerted any undue pressure. Susie Green of Mermaids said the charity “does not encourage parents to demand any particular treatment.” Gendered Intelligence said the allegations against it were “unfounded”. Bernard Reed, founder of Gires, said: “In medical literature . . . failure to provide timely treatment is described as ‘psychological torture’. As far as we are aware, GIDS has adequate safeguards against irreversible treatments being given inappropriately.”
(Emphasis mine.)
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sweetswoochie-blog · 5 years
Text
'TRAVEL WITH BABY' TIPS- Travelling with kids does not have to be stressful
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Most of us love travelling and every well planned break is a truly enjoyable event. Planning and organising become even more important when travelling with babies and children. This "travel with baby" page should provide you lots of valuable tips in preparation for your holidays.
If you travel with children, you have to carefully think every aspect of your journey through. Starting with planning the holiday dates, deciding a holiday destination, booking flights and arranging accomodation, every aspect of your travel has to be precisely planned if you wish to avoid a stressful and incnovenient holiday. Travelling with babies can be pleasant and stressful at the same time, but how you have organised yourself will dictate how things pan out.
I TAKE LIBERTY TO POST HERE, FOR THE READERS BENEFIT, THE BEST TIPS FOR TRAVELLING THAT CAPTURED MY IMAGINATION. ALL CREDITS TO "THE GUARDIAN" AND "THE OBSERVER"
50 top tips for travelling with kids
With a bit of know-how, travelling with small children needn't be a hassle. Author of the new Rough Guide to Travel with Babies & Young Children, Fawzia Rasheed de Francisco offers an essential checklist for parents
Fawzia Rasheed de Francisco, The Observer, Sunday 20 January 2008
Planning your trip
1 If this is your first trip with your children, plan for a slower pace than you might usually attempt. If you want to see more than one place, be realistic about what you can cover with little ones in tow. The less you feel you have to pack in, the more enjoyable and stress-free the holiday - and you'll be better able to take the odd day indoors in your stride if the weather is bad or the kids need to rest.
2 If you are travelling with another family, or adults, before you go, discuss what each person wants to do, agree how to split chores or take turns minding the children, and talk about the balance of spending time together and apart. Come to an agreement about the way you'll split the bills (taking into account the smaller share of expenditures for the children).
3 If your children have special needs, it can be helpful talking to parents whose children have similar conditions, and who may have useful travel tips - try disabledfriends.com or youreable.com. Getting an identity bracelet that has details of your child's medical condition, treatment and their doctor's name is useful in case of emergencies (medicalert.org.uk).
4 Similarly if anyone has serious allergies, you might want them to travel with a card that specifies, in the language of your destination, what they're allergic to and how serious the condition is. Allergy UK produces cards in 27 different languages (allergyuk.org).
5 If you are looking to keep costs down, consider a home exchange. If you swap with another family you can end up with a child-proofed home, toys to play with and insider information on things to do and healthcare services. The following websites may be useful: homelink.org (house-swap organisation with over 13,000 homes in 69 countries); matchinghouses.com (house swaps for families with special needs).
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Other low-cost options include farm stays and university accommodation (venuemasters.co.uk); these have potential pluses such as animals to look at, sports facilities and wide open spaces.
6 If you're going down the hotel route, always check for special family deals, from discounted rates to free meals for children; many international chains offer these. Most hotels and guesthouses provide breakfast, but unless it's included in the room rate, it's often a waste of money for children, particularly if they only eat a piece of bread or a bowl of cereal. If breakfast isn't included, try asking for 'complimentary' ones for the children. Alternatively, you could take along something to snack on for the first day, and buy in a simple breakfast to eat in your room thereafter.
7 Supervised childcare such as a kids' club sounds good, but can mean little more than a bunch of children lumped together in front of a TV while an attendant keeps an eye on them. Ask how many children are cared for, whether groups are split according to age, and what specific activities might be - and be prepared to check it out yourself when you arrive. If anything seems amiss, be prepared to cancel your plans and start looking for alternatives.
8 Finding accommodation when you arrive can be challenging with children in tow. So even if you do want to keep things flexible, it's worth pre-booking for your first few nights: this will allow you to look for other places in a more leisurely way.
9 If you're going overseas, see your doctor at least two months before you leave to discuss your plans. When making the appointment, mention the ages of your children and ask if they need to come to the appointment; when you go, bring everyone's vaccination records, and ask the doctor to note down their blood groups for you. If any of your children has a pre-existing medical condition, ask for help in identifying a doctor in your destination who specialises in the same condition. Children under 18 months won't be given any travel-related jabs.
10 If you're travelling to a country in which malaria is endemic (check the list of affected countries at who.int/ith/en), you need specialist advice on the appropriate antimalarial medication. You'll also need to make sure you take ample supplies of insect repellent, clothes to cover everyone up in the evenings and, if the place you're staying in doesn't have them, bed-nets impregnated with insecticide.
11 You can get antimalarials in syrup form, though tablets are much more common. As children are usually prescribed smaller amounts of the same antimalarials as adults, this means breaking tablets into pieces, so it's a good idea to buy a pill-cutter; these are widely available and cost next to nothing.
12 If you're going to need visas for your destination, don't be surprised if they're a requirement for children as well as adults, and that their fee is the same as for yours. As many countries require visas to be collected in person by applicants (including children), you may have to make a trip to the main embassy in your country, although it's often possible to apply in writing first to avoid two trips.
13 There are a number of instances where you might need to carry extra documentation when travelling with children. If you have an adopted child, you must take their adoption papers; and if you're the only parent travelling - regardless of your marital status - you might be asked for proof of consent from the other parent for your child to travel. This is more likely in countries where overseas adoption and/or child trafficking is common. If the name on your child's passport is not the same as yours, or if your child bears little resemblance to you, the chances of this being an issue increase.
The standard requirements for authorisation to travel are your child's birth certificate, your marriage certificate (if applicable) and a signed and attested consent letter from the other parent confirming you can travel with your child. If the other parent is no longer alive, you may need proof.
14 Getting your children started on a few holiday-related projects before you leave is a great way to prepare them for what's to come. You could explore maps, or the history, geography, animal and plant life of your destination, or read books or watch a film that's set there. If the food is likely to be radically different, research dishes that they might enjoy, and try rustling up something similar before you go.
On the move
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15 If it looks like you're going to be weighed down with mountains of bags, you may want to send on suitcases and bulky items such as prams via a baggage delivery company. You'll pay around £70 to send up to 30kg of luggage one way between European countries, and £110 between the UK and US, but prices per kilo come down the more you send, and you'll get better rates if you send things a few weeks rather than a few days before you travel. Try firstluggage.com or carrymyluggage.com for a quotation.
There are also companies that specialise in delivering baby products such as formula, baby food and nappies - try babiestravellite.com.
16 Hand-held carrycots are superb for babies small enough to carry when on the move, and can double up as a bed, too. Although some hotels offer beds for babies, they're often pretty poor, with saggy mattresses and no shields to prevent babies from falling out. It's better to play safe and bring your own. Most carrycots come with a detachable cover for the body and a shade for the head, and some have a built-in net screen as well. Apart from the obvious protection against the sun and bugs, these are useful for blocking out glaring ceiling lights - such as in airports - which tend to bother babies. Travel cots that break down into several pieces and pack away into their own bag are useful for babies and toddlers too large for carrycots. Carrying babies in a sling strapped to the body is a popular option; both hands remain free and you can detect changes immediately, sensing the moment your child wakes, sneezes, or has a stomach cramp. Slings are the perfect travel aid: they're comfortable, practical, and fold away into no space at all. They're suitable for babies over a week old, measuring at least 53cm tall and weighing more than 3.5kg, and the best ones have wide straps that distribute weight, are machine-washable and have a back or neck support for the baby.
17 A pram or buggy can be useful on holiday even if your child is walking, serving as a place for them to rest during day trips, a makeshift bed when out in restaurants and something to help with carrying the bags. If your destination is unlikely to have paved paths, it may be worth investing in an all-terrain version.
18 In each new place, don't forget to designate a meeting point in case anyone gets separated from the group. If it's likely you'll be in really dense crowds, promising a reward for staying together works as a good incentive.
19 Child monitors can be a real help to keep an eye on young children in crowded places such as airports and shopping malls. The parent carries a tracking device - about the size of a TV remote control - while the child wears a watch-like contraption. Should the distance between the child and the tracker exceed the user-defined range, or if the bracelet is removed, an alarm sounds. Furthermore, once the tracker sounds the alarm, you can push a button to set off a bleeper on your child's bracelet to help you track them down.
20 If your children still crawl around on the floor, one way of keeping them reasonably clean is to take a plastic sheet that you can put down anywhere for them to play on.
21 If you have to sterilise things regularly, consider taking a portable steam steriliser; they work well and with minimum fuss. For sterilising small items on the move - for example dummies or teething toys - you can use sterilising tablets in a watertight screw-top container.
22 If your child is on bottles, bring what you need to make up fresh ones along the way; to save space, fill spare bottles with water, then add milk powder and top up with boiling water when you need them.
23 Breastfeeding in an unfamiliar destination can be a worry, and it is worth doing some research into local attitudes towards feeding in public before you go. If in doubt, try finding some female company, perhaps in a women's clothing shop. Another idea is to head for the ladies' toilets of a posh hotel; these are usually spacious, with seats and pleasant surroundings.
Air travel
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24 If you'd like to be met at check-in and helped with the children and the bags all the way to your plane, ask for 'meet and assist' services when booking your flight. This is generally provided by the airport and not the airline, and whether or not you get it depends on the availability of staff - but if you're travelling as a single parent with more than one child, you'll be given priority.
25 If you're a member of an airline's frequent-flyer club, you may be entitled to use a private departure lounge. Facilities such as a supervised place to leave hand luggage, comfortable chairs, free drinks and snacks, TVs and spacious toilet facilities are especially welcome when travelling with children. If you're not a member, you can often use the lounges if you buy a day pass.
26 Check the latest restrictions on hand luggage before travelling. The more stringent regulations relate to carrying liquids, gels and creams, which includes baby foods, drinks and nappy cream. The standard instructions are not to carry over 100ml of any single item, although exceptions are usually made for essential medicines or supplies for children under two. You can also get away with more (up to 400ml) in the way of milk and drinks so long as these are decanted into bottles and no-spill cups; if you carry the same in the original cartons or bottles, you'll be asked to leave them behind. There are also discretionary limits for baby food - these are generally kept vague, but as long as you don't have more than what security staff deem to be a reasonable amount for the flight, you'll usually be fine.
The best way around the restrictions is to decant creams into small bottles, and bring just powdered milk; you can get hot water to make feeds on most flights, and as soon as you pass security, you can buy bottled water too.
27 Some airlines let you check in online, which allows you to book preferred seats from home and cuts out queuing. When you get to the airport, you usually join a fast-track queue to hand over your checked luggage. Similarly, train stations which feed airports occasionally have check-in facilities, meaning you're then free to board the train with the children but without the bags. Some airlines allow you to check in luggage in advance, sometimes as much as a day before you fly. Though you have to make an advance trip to the airport to do this, the advantages are that you get to turn up a little later than usual on the day, and will have your hands free to tend to your children.
28 The low humidity of cabin air can cause mild dehydration as well as dry and irritated nostrils, so it's important to get kids to drink regularly. If anyone gets a streaming nose (also a factor of low humidity), wet the insides of their nostrils with a finger dipped in water - this often works like magic. Flying can also prompt air expansion in the middle ear and sinuses, which can be painful for babies and infants because of their smaller ear passages. To prevent discomfort, massage your child's ears from behind and give the earlobes a few gentle tugs from time to time. Toddlers also find it helpful to suck on something or have a drink during take-off and landing.
Rail and bus travel
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29 When booking tickets, make a point of asking for deals for families and young people. In many instances, a family travelcard reduces the cost of ordinary tickets by so much that it's worth buying one even for a single trip. Such deals are usually restricted to travel outside rush hours. To buy a railcard, you usually need to show identification for one or both parents, and have photographs with you.
30 If you're travelling with more than one child and you want space for them to play, it's a good idea to buy more tickets than you need, or book out an entire compartment. This might sound elitist, but sharing a packed carriage can be overwhelming when you're with small children.
31 When you're boarding a bus or train, decide who is going to get on first, who will go last and who is stowing the luggage so as to be sure nothing and no one gets left behind. If you're on a train, establish limits in terms of how far older children can stray and how long they can be away for, emphasising that they always need to come back to you when the train slows down to stop.
Driving
32 Regardless of the regulations in your destination, always use children's car seats whenever driving with your kids. If you're going to use the seat in several different cars - taxis, say - go for a universal model which works with all kinds of seatbelts. For general guidelines and information on some of the common errors when fitting child's car and booster seats, go to childcarseats.org.uk.
33 Extra rear-view mirrors trained on the back seats will allow you to keep an eye on the children without having to turn around, and are particularly useful if you're driving without another adult. They are easy to get hold of in car accessory shops or online.
34 Accessories for entertainment such as tape decks or portable CD/DVD players fitted for use in cars (via the cigarette lighter) help to ensure the right mix of entertainment for children. And if you don't want their fun to bother the driver, bring headphones as well.
Staying healthy
35 If you're heading for the heat, choose clothes made from natural fibres - sweat irritates delicate skins and can lead to prickly heat or sweat rash. Expect to change your baby up to three times a day - particularly if they're not used to the heat and will sweat a lot. Children will need two sets of clothes per day, and sunhats with wide brims and neck flaps are worthwhile when playing outdoors. Equally, don't overlook the fact that children's eyes are more vulnerable to glare than yours; get them sunglasses, or goggles with elasticated straps, which stay on better.
36 If the tap water isn't safe to drink, you'll need to boil, filter or sterilise your own, or buy bottled water. If you plan to use bottled water to make up formula feeds, aim to get the lowest mineral content you can. Make sure the children don't drink from taps, including when brushing teeth. Keeping a bottle of drinking water by the sink is a helpful reminder.
37 When eating out in countries with poor standards of sanitation and hygiene, always eat at busy places where the turnover of food will be fast, and avoid buffets: they're notorious for harbouring the bugs that cause diarrhoea.
38 When eating in restaurants, if the crockery or cutlery is wet, giving it a dry wipe with a clean tissue will lower any potential dose of bugs. Check that bottles and cans are unopened before handing these to the children (and use straws or clean the can or bottle before they drink), and get them to avoid ice and salads.
39 Carry some non-prescription antihistamine such as Piriton, for symptoms such as sneezing, streaming noses or itchy eyes. For skin allergies, try applying over-the-counter hydrocortisone cream; natural alternatives include drinking honey and apple cider mixed with warm water, a spoonful of honey or, particularly for hayfever, nettle tea.
40 Children are particularly prone to dehydration, mostly because they don't drink unless they feel thirsty. If your baby is exclusively breastfed, you should drink more whenever it's hot so that you produce slightly diluted milk; but if temperatures are particularly high and you don't have enough milk, give them some water to drink, too. Also check all your children's urine from time to time; if it's darker than usual, cloudy or strong-smelling, insist that they drink more.
41 Constipation can be caused by dehydration or changes in diet. Give babies water to drink, use a light oil to massage their tummies, and bring their knees up to their chests a few times. You can also gently rub a button of Vaseline over their anus. Give older children water and a few teaspoons of a light vegetable oil to drink, as well as trying the Vaseline and abdominal massage.
42 Most hotels do not provide mosquito nets for baby cots so you'll need to take your own. The easiest way to protect babies from insect bites (apart from mosquito nets), is to put them in a light cotton fabric sleeping bag, with a long-sleeved top, and slather a healthy dose of insect repellent on the fabric.
Being there
43 Most tourist accommodation isn't particularly child-friendly, so once you've checked in you'll probably need to make some adaptations yourself. Start off by checking locks on doors and windows to make sure the room is secure. Check the sturdiness of the fittings - wobbly balconies and railings are unsafe and mean you should change your accommodation straight away. Point out things such as loose towel-rails or curtain rails to the staff and either agree that you can't be responsible should they fall down, or ask for them to be fixed or removed. Use insulating tape to cover exposed wires or sockets or block them off with furniture that's too heavy for your children to move. It's also a good idea to check the temperature of the hot water; it's often scalding, so you may need to warn your children.
44 Once you've researched your destination, prepare a list of possible activities that take various lengths of time and suit different weather conditions. If you've more than one child, give each a turn to make choices from the activities list.
45 If you're travelling with more than one adult, try splitting up from time to time, either having time with the children, or heading off without them to do something on your own.
46 If you plan on walking or cycling, remember that young children won't want to focus on getting from A to B, but on following their interests, so allow time for exploring. Plan your route around the capacity of your youngest child and your ability to carry them. Try to choose a route where the scenery will change frequently. Good choices for walks or rides include following a river or canal towpath; there are no hills to negotiate, and there's the possible bonus of water to play in and birds to feed. It's also a good idea to combine walks or rides with an activity such as swimming or taking a short train ride.
47 Children might get more exposure to sunshine than adults if carried in backpacks or on a child seat at the front of a bike; and if they're not walking or cycling themselves, they'll get colder than everyone else as they won't be warmed up with exercise - protect them accordingly and have layers to pull on and take off.
48 Apart from taking photographs, there are lots of ways to help your children preserve memories of your trip. You could buy a postcard for each destination and help them to note a single memory on the back, alongside the date or their age. You could also get them started on collections of things that can be found in most places, such as badges, paperweights, model cars and boats or toy animals.
49 If your children are keeping a journal, encourage them to draw and list things they see and eat; they could also collect autographs and doodles from people they meet as well as ticket stubs and labels to stick in. If free mini-maps of places you visit are available, get extras for the children to stick into their books, and help them circle the places you've seen. If you're encountering different languages, put in lists of new words and add more as they learn one set.
50 Local toys are often worth seeking out, and make great gifts to take home. Apart from the novelty value, kids tend to like playing with the same things that local children have, and it can help with making friends.
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