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defibcprm2m · 4 years
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The best resus scene of all time right here
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defibcprm2m · 4 years
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Heart of a Champion
Iva Haugen was an up and coming professional tennis player from Norway. She was a naturally beautiful 23 year old girl who was tall and thin, standing at 5'9 with platinum blonde hair, blue eyes, and fair skin. Iva was in the United States training for an upcoming professional tournament with her coach and a few other pros who were participating in the same event as her. Her training was going exceptionally well, and she really liked her chances in the upcoming tournament. Unfortunately, fate had other plans for the young tennis pro.
After several hours of training yesterday, Iva felt as if her heart was going to leap right out of her chest. She attributed this symptom to nerves about the tournament and excessive exercise that day. While showering off back at her hotel a little while later, the heart palpitations returned along with sudden, severe dizziness. After her shower, she felt a bit tired and decided to take a nap.
Approximately 30 minutes later, one of the other tennis pros who was friends with Iva entered the room; it was Lena Nielson, a Swiss tennis player. Lena wanted to see if Iva wanted to hang out that night and grab as bite to eat. However, Lena found her friend passed out on the bed and bot responding to her voice. Lena shook Iva, but all the did was groan weakly. Iva's eyes were rolled back and her breaths were fast but shallow. Lena knew something was seriously wrong, so she called 911.
When paramedics arrived on scene minutes later, Iva was still drifting in and out of consciousness. The medics asked Lara a few questions in an attempt to asses the situation. The questions were routine such as: “any medical conditions?” “is she on any medications?” “did she use any illegal drugs?” “any injuries that you know of?” “any allergies?” Lara answered no to all these questions and insisted that Iva was previously healthy.
After that brief conversation with Lara, the medics began their initial assessment and set up equipment. One medic snipped off Iva's top, only sparing her dark blue bra to set up a 5 lead ECG with a portable heart monitor. Medic #2 set up 2 large bore IVs and hung a bag of normal saline, and then set Iva up on an o2 mask with high flow oxygen. On scene, Iva's vital signs were: BP 162/103, heart rate 126bpm, pulse oxygenation 98%. The ECG showed Unifocal PVCs with narrow Q waves. With these stats in mind, the medics knew this was a cardiovascular issue of some sort and decided to bring her into the ambulance and transport her to the emergency department.
During transport, the medics pushed vasodilators in order to regulate her blood pressure, but the young tennis star continued to deteriorate. Her heart rate was dangerously high, and she was now unconscious, barely breathing. For the purpose of airway management, the medics decided to intubate their attractive, foreign patient. Her head was tiled back and the laryngoscope was placed into her mouth. A 7.0 ET tube was then carefully navigated into her airway, and secured with a blue tube holder.
Around 2 minutes after intubation, the young athlete’s condition worsened, converting to pulseless v-tach. The medic snipped off Iva’s dark blue bra, exposing her B cup breasts. The defibrillator pads were then stuck onto her bare chest and charged to 150 joules. Iva jolted around on the gurney in response to the controlled dose of electricity. The heart monitors still displayed pulseless v-tach, so the medics decided to shock her again at 200 joules. The 2nd shock made the young woman's chest shoot up, arching her back a bit. Shock #2 converted the young woman to v-fib, so a full code blue was initiated.
Epinephrine and atropine were injected into Iva’s IV, and CPR was started while the defibs were being recharged. The young athlete received deep, harsh chest compressions from the medic. Her perky, B cup breasts bounced in sync with the compressions while her head lolled around a bit. Once the defibs were ready, the medic backed away and delivered a 250j shock. The shock caused her nude body to bounce around in response, but v-fib was still present on the heart monitors. Another shock was delivered, but it had no effect whatsoever.
CPR was still in progress upon arrival to our emergency department. At that point, Iva was shocked 4 times, given 2 doses of drugs, and had a total down time of 6 and a half minutes. Once we had her in the trauma bay, we transferred her onto the table and resumed the code. One of our ER nurses took over compressions. She delivered strong, rapid compressions that caused the patient’s belly to ripple and bounce outward. I then began ordering tests: I ordered stat trauma labs (CBC, BMP, tox screen), but I also threw in a cardiac enzyme test to rule out an MI, and a D-dimer to rule out a blood clot. The next order of business was to order an echocardiogram since the medics’ account of what happened suggested a heart problem. With CPR ongoing, an echocardiogram was performed. The echo showed mild left ventricular hypertrophy, and major thickening of the intraventricular septum. I immediately knew this was hypertrophic cardiomyopathy. “page cardio. If we get a pulse back, she’s gonna need surgery.” I called out. Hypertrophic cardiomyopathy is a condition where the muscular wall between the bottom 2 chambers of the heart is abnormally thick. This can cause major problems with bloodflow into and out of the heart. Not every patient with hypertrophic cardiomyopathy has a long history of symptoms, which is why it can cause a sudden cardiac arrest.
After all my diagnostic tests were completed, we decided to shock Iva again. The defib pads made a whining sound as they charged. Once the pads were ready, everyone backed away and the shock was delivered. Iva’s feet leapt up above the table and slammed back down, showing of the prominent, silky wrinkles in the soles of her size 10 feet. V-fib still ran across the heart monitors, so another shock was delivered after a cycle of chest compressions. The next shock caused the young lady to not violently on the bed as the electricity ran through her dying body. This shock sent Iva into PEA, so CPR was resumed at that point.
The next rounds of epinephrine and atropine were pushed, along with the first dose of bicarb. The drugs and several rounds of compressions failed to produce a shockable rhythm. Iva was given more drugs at the 12 minute mark of the code, but she still remained in PEA. Her chest was starting to get bruised from all the compressions she’s received. Her fair complexion quickly turned into a ghastly white, and she was beginning to become cool to the touch. The situation grew increasingly tense, but she still had pupil reactivity so the code ensued.
It took another 4 and a half minutes, but Iva was able to be converted back into v-fib. The defibrillator pads were charged and everyone backed away in anticipation of the shock. 300 joules of electricity were sent into Iva’s lifeless body, causing her to twitch violently on the table. With v-fib still displaying on the monitors, a cycle of compressions were performed and the next shock was delivered moments later, causing her battered body to react violently to the shock. This shock sent Iva back into PEA, so CPR was resumed at that point.
The ER team maxed the young athlete out on drugs and performed numerous cycles of chest compressions on her, but she failed to respond to the life saving efforts. After a 22 minute code, the ER team ceased their efforts and called time of death at 16:41.
The ambu bag was detached and the flatlined heart monitors were shut off. The defibrillator pads were peeled off her battered chest while another nurse disconnected the ECG electrodes. Lastly, Iva’s lifeless body was covered and a toe tag was placed.
We unfortunately broke the news to Lara, Iva’s coach, and a few other tennis pros who came to the hospital after hearing what happened.
Iva’s death was honored with a moment of silence on the 1st day of the tournament, and this experience encouraged Lara to become an advocate for providing more in-depth sports physicals to athletes in all sports.
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defibcprm2m · 4 years
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You lace your fingers and press on my chest...awaiting for the faintest heartbeats...
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defibcprm2m · 4 years
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Nice work! She’s not responding let’s resume compressions and call 911...
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Elle needs CPR... and an author...
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defibcprm2m · 4 years
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I’m adding a new one... TVH for very happy!
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SH
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defibcprm2m · 4 years
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All of them! You don’t have to have huge boobs to be a good patient.. see @resus-girl for a prime example 😊
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To all my CPR/resus people what or which chest do you prefer for compressions? A,B,C,D,E,F other or Male
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defibcprm2m · 4 years
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Spreading the word... good luck!
Heyy everyone! So me and @cpresusguy90 are looking for a FEMALE who is willing to partake in a potential meet up role play scenario. Obviously we would get to know one another first and get a good feel before anything. We are looking for a FEMALE roughly around 20-30. It would be easier if you were near by (could work out travel plans). And we would like to do this perferably sometime soon. If anyone is interested feel free to PM me or @cpresusguy90. Thanks! ☺️
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defibcprm2m · 4 years
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👍👍👍
About Resus Content on this Blog (Guideline)
For ALL People who step this blog, Is really important to consider this before you enter:
1.This blog has Erotic/Fetish content that is NOT SUITABLE FOR MINORS and DOES NOT SUPPORT AND CONDEMNS RESUS CONTENT WITH MINORS INVOLVED. This is not only mandatory but also strictly forbidden: sexuality must be driven with responsibility and consent, and is better to know that any people who support Minor Content in Resus/Fetish content doesn’t understand pivotal concepts of sane sexuality, and it must be given attention to remove it content and, in a most urgent scenario, ask its account to be deleted.
For all minors crossing this blog (because is a big possibility), this content is NOT for you and you must leave, and If you are developing a interest in this content, I recommend to NOT find it out here or in any web page until you have developed yourself enough to understand important aspect of social interaction and sexuality in general terms, being that time when you are 18 YEARS OLD or older.
2.This blog DOES NOT SUPPORT REAL-CPR VIDEOS. It must be known that resus content, as a fetish, is a deep fantasy that must be differentiated from reality. Resuscitating a person is a traumatic, deeply hard experience that must be respected as an action of real life/death scenario, and not as a content of personal pleasure. And, while I know that some people on this community knownly works in the medical area, this aspect is really about knowing the boundarie between fantasy and reality.
3. This blog SUPPORTS RESUS-CONTENT CREATORS. While I know that mostly of the content of some accounts includes copyright content from Biomed-911 / Opander, which are by far the two studios most dedicated in this content, is important to recognize their big efforts to provide quality content for our community and support them by buying their videos or donating them. If you don’t have enough money (as me), is important to don’t trade or re-upload full videos uploaded from other pages, but only gifs as a maximum approach. 4. This blog SUPPORT TUMBLR RESUS-CONTENT CREATORS. It’s important to recognize that, unlike the studios previously mentioned before, we have a responsibility as a community to provide us care and protection. This space must be a safe one for any gender or identity, because behind this wall of text, images and videos, there’s real people sharing a intimate and personal aspect of their persona, and for this we must be treated as humans..
5.And finally, considering point 4, this blog DOES NOT SUPPORT AND CONDEMNS ABUSIVE BEHAVIOR TO RESUS CONTENT. Knowing that men are mostly responsible of harassing female resus content creators, abusive behavior not only reprehensible but also strictly destructive to our community and it must be fight against and eradicated. The resus community in tumblr and other pages must be a safe place to all resus-content creators and spectators alike, and if you want to support/comment its content, It must be given with respect and knowing that behind the content there’s a person, not a object for your sexual pleasure. Respect personal boundaries and if there’s consent to have a deeper relationship apart of being just a spectator, it must be given with the respect and care it deserves any relationship.
Considering all this, welcome to my blog, and reblog this post if you want to be posted as a guideline :3 Be safe at your homes in this hard times, and have a nice day!
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defibcprm2m · 4 years
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This is amazing stuff here
It was a slow afternoon in the ER, thankfully. I had seen some stuff the past few days, mostly people making stupid decisions, but often with bloody consequences. A call from the paramedics came in to the ER stating that they were en route with a woman having a cardiac episode. I prepped my code team and prepared the trauma bay for the worst. The women hadn’t arrested at that point, but attempts at cardioversion had been unsuccessful thus far.
Minutes later, paramedics wheeled in a dark haired woman, her shirt and bra cut open, electrodes and AED pads on her bare chest, large oxygen mask on her face.
The lead medic briefed us.
“40 year old woman, coworker saw her collapse, ventricular tachycardia present. Synchronized cardioversion attempted on site up to 100 joules, unsynchronized attempted 3 times in the bus, unsuccessfully. BP bottomed out, pulse ox is low”
“Let’s get her moved,” I began and the team transferred her. “Get a 12 lead and get her intubated, let’s run some labs and prepare to try and cardiovert her again.”
One of my team nurses removed the mask from her face. All the color drained from my body. Her face. Her beautiful face. I knew that face. I had seen that beautiful face before.......... the night I met her flashed before my eyes instantly.
.
.
.
Being a lesbian in rural Wyoming has its challenges, the shortage of....people.....being one. Working odd hours as an ER physician and never having time to do more for myself than put my hair in a ponytail and slapping on some moisturizer and chapstick doesn’t help either.
On a night off a few months ago, I went to the bar in the town adjacent to my hospital. That’s where I met Alita. I was sitting at the bar, my plain self, trying to drink a beer and forget about the horrors I had seen that week. She breathed a sigh of relief as she sat next to me.
“I’m so glad to see you,” she began, nervously, her dark curls falling into her eyes as she whispered, “There is a gross trucker over there who won’t take no for an answer. I hope you don’t mind me coming over here by you, I lied and told him you were my friend and we were having a girls night.....My name’s Alita by the way.” And she reached out to shake my hand discreetly under the bar. She was beautiful. Light olive complexion with full, peachy cheeks and big brown eyes.
“Alita, huh?” I whispered back. “I’m Amber. It’s nice to see you.”
We smiled at each other and I went back to my beer. “Can I get you something?”
“I was going to offer to you since I interrupted your night,” she laughed.
“I’d love another Bud if you’re buying,” I conceded. “This one’s almost gone.”
She got us each a beer and began telling me about her life. She was raised in Italy by an American mother and Italian father but had been living in the US as an adult, brought to the shit hole that is the state of Wyoming by the university to teach classic Italian literature. We compare notes on our respective jobs. Our horrors were different. She got us another round of beers. I stared intently at her when she wasn’t watching.
“Do you have a boyfriend or a husband or a dog or anything?” She asked
“My job doesn’t allow me to have a schedule that would be fair to a dog,” I laughed. “And I’m actually a lesbian.”
Alita audibly gasped. “Oh wow. I bet that’s hard here.”
I nodded. “What about you? Any boyfriends....girlfriends.....animals...”
“My ex boyfriend was an animal,” she laughed before taking a big swig of beer. She paused. “I actually dated a girl for a little while before I was transferred here, when I was at American University in DC.”
My ears perked up.
“It was very casual,” she continued. “but I still think about her a lot. I am afraid I hurt her. I had never....done anything with a girl before and I don’t think I was ready. I liked her but I don’t know if I was truly attracted to her like in a sexual way.”
I swallowed hard. I took another sip of my beer.
She smiled at me and patted my hand.
“I have to prepare my lecture for tomorrow,” she groaned, “but it was really nice to spend time with you.”
I smiled shyly. “Let me walk you to your car”
And I walked her past the creepy truck driver who gave her a hard time out to the parking lot. I wanted to ask her out. I wanted to grab her around her waist and kiss her neck. I wanted to take her back to my place and fuck her senseless. But I didn’t.
We made it to her car. She smiled at me and reached in to hug me and kiss me on the cheek. I reciprocated. And she left. I didn’t get her number, or her last name. And it wasn’t anything but friendly, but I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her.
.
.
.
Now here she is, dying on the table in my ER. How did this happen?
The team cut the rest of her clothes away, covering her to the belly button with a white sheet. The 12 lead was printing out and she had been intubated. A BPcuff and pulse oxomoter were in place. Her heart was pounding rapidly and erratically in her chest. She lay unconscious, naked, helpless, and almost dead. And it was my job to save her.
I immediately called for 200 joules on the defibrillator and grabbed the paddles. I placed them on her chest and pressed released the energy. “Clear!” She twitched slightly. Her heart rate continued to skip across the monitor even faster. The team pushed drugs into her IV and I called for the paddles to be charged again at 300. Paddles in place, I shouted “Clear!” and shocked her again. The monitor slowed. For a moment she had a stable pulse. I felt her neck and got ready to put my stethoscope to her chest when the eerie whine of asystole echoed in my ear drums.
“She’s flatline!” I frantically called out, positioning myself to immediately begin chest compressions. I interlocked my fingers and forcefully began trying manually to get a pulse on her, rapidly compressing her chest while a member of my team kept count on the time. 30 seconds passed, 1 minute, 1 minute 30 seconds. Drugs pushed. I continued.
“Come on...” I said quietly as a began the next round, looking down at her face, feeling the softness of her breasts slightly under my bottom hand. Her petite body shook with every compression. I knew I had probably already broken a rib.
“5 minutes,” the time keeper reminded me.
“You need to take a break,” one of the nurses said, stepping in and pushing me aside to continue CPR.
I stepped back and watched her lifeless chest shake from the aggressive compressions. I could barely form words. “More drugs,” I stuttered. “Push epi and see if we can get something to shock.”
Drugs were forced into her IV while compressions continued relentlessly. I watched the monitor. “Hold CPR,” I managed, calmly. I watched the monitor. “VFib! Charge to 360.”
The paddles were charged and one of the nurses grabbed them. “Stop compressions,” she said, putting the paddles on Alita’s chest. “Clear!”
Her whole body jerked slightly, head tilting to the side. Every eye in the room watched the rapid spikes on the monitor flatten out to fine VFib.
“Hit her again!” I shouted.
“Charging paddles to 360,” the nurse said. The machine whined and she prepared to shock Alita a second time. “Clear!”
Asystole.
“Starting CPR at 7 minutes,” the timekeeper called out as another nurse began vigorously pounding on Alita’s chest again.
I watched her body shake under the force
of the resuscitation efforts. The lead medic was still present in the room.
“Do you know what happened?” I asked him, my voice soft and almost unrecognizable to myself
“Coworker at the university said she was fine and then she just dropped without a word or symptoms like saying she had chest pain,” he replied. “She was semi-conscious when we arrived, still breathing...” his voice trailed off
“8 minutes 30 seconds,” the timekeeper announced
“Push another round of drugs and hold CPR, let’s get a look at the monitor,” I called out, wearily, but enough to get the team’s attention. Fine VFib displayed, weak, but enough to shock.
“Let’s shock her again, charging paddles to 360,” and I grabbed the charged paddles to position on her chest as CPR continued. “Everybody off. Clear!”
I watched her body jerk slightly up off the gurney, her breasts shaking as her back hit the mattress again. The monitor still showed fine VFib. I immediately placed the paddles back on the dock to charge again while a swift round of compressions was administered.
“Everybody off,” I announced again. “Clear!”
I was losing track of how many times she had been defibbed. The whine of asystole returned briefly before reverting yet again to VFib and yet another shock. She had been down for 12 minutes. The center of her chest was bruised from the compressions, her right breast sticky from the conductive gel for the defibrillator.
I watched the line on the monitor squiggle violently on the screen for a few moments after the shock before flattening out again. Back on top of her, I positioned myself again, slamming the heel of my hand into her sternum as hard and as fast as I could.
“Come.....on.....Alita......please,” I whispered breathlessly as I pounded on her chest. I looked down at her face. “Come on......please come back”
I called for another round of drugs at 13 minutes and the team shook their heads. “I said now! One more round of epi!”
The drugs were pushed into her IV as I continued CPR. At 14 minutes, VFib showed on the monitor.
“Let’s get ready to shock her again, charge to 360!” I shouted. I grabbed the paddles and positioned them on her chest. “Clear!” The room was still and silent as we waited for something to register on the monitor. When it did, it still showed VFib.
“Goddamn it, charge again!” I yelled exasperated
One of the nurses chimed in, “its been 15 minutes...”
“She’s not flatline, I’m not giving up,” I snapped, placing the paddles back on Alita’s chest. “Clear!” And I discharged the energy into her body. Stillness. Quiet. “Come on come on come on,” I mumbled under my breath waiting for the rhythm to register. It started beeping. She had a pulse.
I couldn’t believe it. I grabbed my stethoscope to listen with my own ears, pressing the bell into various points on her chest. She wasn’t out of the woods but she had a pulse.
The team worked quickly to try and stabilize her. I gently caressed the side of her face. “Welcome back Alita,” I whispered
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defibcprm2m · 4 years
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This is fantastic!! Bravo for the first time with gifs you did wonderful!!
Overdose:
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Boyfriend comes home and finds his girlfriend laying in the bed unconscious and not breathing. An empty pill bottle lays open on the nightstand. He checks her pulse and feels nothing. He immediately calls 911 and begins giving her CPR and mouth to mouth until the paramedics arrive.....
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Once the paramedics arrive they place her on the floor, cut off her bra and begin giving her cycles of deep compressions to try and restore a pulse.....
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They force oxygen into the patients lungs with a BVM while continuing to cycle rounds of CPR.....
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Finally, after many cycles of CPR and forced breathing, a pulse is restored and the patient begins to breathe on her on. An oxygen mask is placed on the patient and the paramedics continue to monitor her heart and lungs.....
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The patient begins to shows signs of responsiveness and the paramedics get her ready for transport to the hospital.
P.S. This was our first time creating a story using GIFs so don’t judge. We hope you all enjoy it as much as we enjoyed making it. We hope to get better and continue to make more in the future. Please do not post this on any other sites, it should stay on Tumblr. Thank you and have a great day! -T&G
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defibcprm2m · 4 years
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I love this story for so many reasons ❤️
Silent Songbird
Rain streaked down the twelve large windows that made the west wall of the ICU waiting room. The accommodations were simple; several padded chairs and a few convertible recliners were clustered around small end tables. A small desk sat near the doorway with a house phone, flanked by a stately bookshelf and a smaller magazine rack. A television was mounted and murmured quietly in one corner of the room, trying to bring comfort, or at least distraction, to those who would wait for news of their loved ones struggling down the hall.
James rested his forehead against the cold glass, staring out over a small courtyard. Brown leaves littered the ground, sad reminders of a summer that had withered into an autumn that too quickly gave way to winter. He didn't particularly like the cold. Or the wet. Or the overcast skies. His reflection stared back at him, dressed in a black tuxedo. A bowtie hung untied around his neck, the top button of his shirt undone, jacket open. His thick, sandy brown hair stood up in odd angles, frequently tousled as he ran his fingers through it in frustration.
This isn't how today was supposed to be.
"Mr. Edwards?"
James turned away from his reflection to face a tall, graceful woman. Honey blonde hair hung halfway down her back, gathered loosely at her neck with a black rubber band. He dimly recalled her name was Amanda, a memory jogged as his eye caught her nametag while she strode towards him purposefully. She was a doctor, but clad in violet scrubs, a black stethoscope draped around her neck. She stopped before him, speaking softly. Her blue eyes were cool, her face calm and carefully composed.
-----
"Cara, what are you DOING in there?" he laughed, rapping his knuckles on the heavy restroom door. Abruptly the door swung outward towards him, and his arms were full of a pretty young woman, half dressed, auburn hair pulled up in rollers.
"Omigosh!" she said in a rush, quickly peeking past and around him, holding the sides of her strapless, glittering navy blue ball gown up at her sides. "Is anyone out-"
"No one's there," he said, answering her question before she got it out of her mouth. "Turn around," he commanded, putting his hands on her creamy pale shoulders and turning her away from him. She turned, a series of awkward shuffling steps as she endeavored not to step on the hem of her skirt. As his deft fingers worked the zipper on her dress, she fumbled with her earrings, fingers trembling. She then wiggled the bodice into place over her ample cleavage, smoothed imaginary wrinkles over her hips, shuffled back a step or two towards the bathroom door, and flashed him a charming smile.
"Well?" she asked expectantly.
"Well, what?" he feigned ignorance.
"Jim!" she cried, grinning. "How's the dress?"
"Its's blue?" he shrugged, but couldn't help but smile a little. "But you look radiant. Now get the plastic out of your hair. We need to rehearse."
Cara looked past him into the empty choir room. Her hair still needed a few more minutes for the curls to set, but they both needed time to warm up first. And, she still needed to put on her makeup. Oh, so little time!
"I'll take them out in a minute. And put on my makeup while we warm up."
He sighed, but she didn't give him time to argue. She dashed back through the heavy bathroom door to retrieve her makeup bag and joined him at a desk near the upright piano. He played them through a few scales, mostly for her benefit, guiding her in a quick rush through her impressive vocal range. It would be greatly appreciated for the vocal gymnastics that were to come.
The bride and groom were two of their closest friends, having graduated from college ahead of them the year before. They had all been a part of the same musical group and had spent many touring seasons together. This last year had been awful without Shelly and Jared, but they were both happy the two of them were getting married. Cara and James had very quickly agreed to provide the music for the ceremony. James's rich baritone was moving, and Cara's soaring soprano was heavenly. A more beautifully matched combination was not possible, and the songs on the list for the wedding of their two dear friends today were sure to make this a spectacular event. Cara was doing the vocal heavy lifting, but she didn't mind. Each of the songs selected had a special meaning to the bride and groom, and would be very memorable for the guests. That's what she liked most about singing, she often mused. Making memorable moments for people.
She tugged on the zipper to her makeup bag and drew out her powder and a mirror, her hands trembling, as he began to play the introduction to the prelude piece. It was a solo, and right in the middle of her range. It was an easy song, but her voice was a little thin and breathy. James looked over at her as he played. She swept the powder brush over her nose, cheeks and forehead quickly, but it was unnecessary. She was already a little pale. He slowed his playing, and then stopped. Cara looked at him, a little confused.
"Are you alright?" he asked.
"Hmm? Sure. Just a little excited, I guess." Cara flashed him another of those charming smiles, but he wasn't convinced. Cara was cool as a cucumber when it came to performing. Nothing got her flustered.
"Want to try one of the duets then?" James asked, prodding her towards something more difficult. If she were excited or nervous, getting one of the harder ones out of the way would help.
Cara didn't answer at first, and he wasn't sure she heard him. She sat still at the desk, eyes closed, her breathing deep and slow. Finally she nodded, then began to apply a quick touch of silver eye shadow and darker eyeliner.
James watched her warily. Her behavior was odd, considering her spunky nature and the vibrancy of only a few moments before. Still, his fingers floated across the keys, the beautiful melody filling the air. As the song began, James's rich voice easily filled the room, his head turned to face Cara as he played the song from memory, and sang from the heart.
No more talk of darkness, forget these wide-eyed fears. I'm here. My words will warm and calm you.
Cara slowly put down her makeup bag and turned to face James. It wasn't the first time they'd sang this song. It wasn't the first time they'd even sang love songs at a wedding. And yet, something about it this time was particularly stirring.
As he continued his part in the duet, she rose and came to stand beside the piano, resting her hand lightly on the top of it. She squared her shoulders, drew a breath, and her voice floated lightly, a delicate response:
Say you love me every waking moment. Turn my head with talk of summertime. Say you need me with you now and always. Promise me that all you say is true. That's all I ask of you.
James smiled at her, nodding in approval. The piano played on and they continued their intimate duet, voices soaring together towards the climax of the song, when abruptly Cara stopped, gripping the piano lightly. James stopped playing as she swayed a little on her feet.
The door to the choir room opened, and Jared entered, dressed in a black tuxedo and white vest. He carried a small, clear plastic box with him. "I thought I heard you two in here," he declared cheerfully as he strode over to the piano. He reached out and shook James's hand, his grip firm, then reached out to embrace Cara. She brightened up a little at his greeting. "I had no idea you were doing that song," he quipped casually.
"It's for Shel," Cara said, still looking a little unsteady. "She told me once that she always dreamed of having it sung at her wedding, so..." Cara smiled, letting the sentence trail off.
"I see," Jared said. "Well she'll love that. And from what I heard, it's going to be stunning." He squeezed her again, grinning. "Oh. Almost forgot," he said, shaking the plastic box in his hand gently. "I brought you flowers. Both of you, actually."
In the box was a delicate rose boutonniere for James and a matching wrist corsage for Cara. Jared opened the box and lifted out the corsage and went to put it on Cara's hand. She waved his hand away.
"Let me finish my makeup and hair. I don't want to mess the flowers up. In fact, let me go get these rollers out. I'll be back in a minute." She managed a smile, a faint one, as she walked back to the bathroom, the earlier energy and excitement oddly absent now.
With the door firmly closed behind her, Jared sat on the desk by the piano, turned to his old pal, voice lowered in a hushed whisper reminiscent of two junior-high gossip girls.
"Did you?
"It wasn't the right time."
"James, you KNOW it was the right time. Its burning a hole in your pocket, isn't it?" Jared accused. James nodded rather guiltily.
"I was going to, just after we rehearsed this song," James confessed. "I know how much she loves it. But, I don't think she's feeling well." He glanced over his shoulder at the door Cara had disappeared behind.
"Maybe she's just got performance jitters?" Jared suggested. James turned back to him and leveled a glance. They both knew Cara better than that. Jared shrugged and changed the subject, laying the plastic floral box on top of the piano. Ask her at the reception then?" he pressed.
James nodded. "Unless she's feeling better before. Id like her to be wearing it when she's at the mic."
Jared grinned and slapped his friend on the shoulder. "It won't be long before Shel and I will be at your wedding. So ask the girl already and get this show on the road." He laughed softly, stood from where he had been seated on the desk, and turned for the door. "Oh, and her makeup bag is still out here on the desk. She might need it" Jared offered.
James's eyes scanned the desk and saw the small, floral print bag and sighed. He leaned over to grab it, pushed the piano bench back from the upright with a screech against the tile floor and stood, striding towards the bathroom. As before, he rapped on the solid door. "Cara? You forgot your makeup bag. Do you need it in there?" He waited, listening for her reply. When she didn't answer, he knocked again, a little louder this time. "Cara?"
After a moment, he grasped the door handle and pulled the door towards him. "Cara?" he called, as he opened the door.
Cara had finished her hair. Each one of the plastic rollers had been replaced in the case, and the delicate auburn curls had been piled atop her head and carefully pinned. He might have been struck by how absolutely beautiful she was, dressed up like this, if she had not been crumpled in a heap on the floor.
In an instant, James was kneeling at her side in the cramped vanity area of the restroom. With the shadow of the sink above, it was impossible to see Cara in any sort of light. He turned her over carefully in his arms to face him. "Cara?" He called her name harshly, his deep voice booming an echo in the small tiled bathroom. He shook her shoulders, and she rocked limply against him, unconscious.
In one fluid motion, he scooped her small body into his arms and lifted her easily, her head falling against his chest. He pushed backwards through the bathroom door into the choir room, setting her down a few steps away from the main entrance. Under the fluorescent lighting, Cara's warm pink skin was dull and pale, having lost its color. With her again laid out, James shook her bare shoulders, more roughly than before, calling to her loudly.
James took her slender, graceful wrist in his hand, feeling, his grey eyes looking her over frantically but not really seeing. His eyes lingered on the spill of her cleavage, down the graceful curve of her ribs to where the dress flared out wider at her hips. As tightly as the dress hugged her, surely he should have been able to see some sort of movement.
"Jared!" he roared, his voice echoing, overcoming the choir room's feeble attempt at noise reduction. "JARED!"
James leaned close to Cara, the blood rushing in his ears. He waited, listening, feeling, hoping for anything. Gently he tilted her head back and sealed his mouth over hers. Her lips were soft, warm and compliant. He could taste the sweetness of her lip gloss, but ignored this. The fingers of his right hand held her nose shut as he filled her with his warm, deep breath. He broke the kiss between them and she exhaled silently, just as the door to the choir room swung open again.
"Well, what was the answer?" Jared asked jovially as he came back in, nearly tripping across the lovers on the floor at his feet. "Damn, did she faint?"
James looked up at him seriously. Jared crouched down across from him. "She was on the floor in the bathroom," James explained. "She isn't breathing." He returned his lips to hers, breathing deeply for her again as if to make his point.
As James had done, Jared took Cara's wrist, feeling for a pulse, but then slid his fingers to her neck, waiting. As he did so, the door to the choir room again opened, admitting two older men and a young girl. They peered around the spectacle in the doorway, attracted by the shouting. Jared glanced over his shoulder, pulling his mobile phone from his jacket pocket and handing it to one of the men. "Uncle Joseph, call an ambulance," he requested. "She's not breathing."
"Is she dead, grandpa?" the girl asked, quietly curious, being ushered out of the doorway by the other, older man.
I certainly hope not, James thought, breathing another slow, deep breath into Cara. Oh God, I hope not.
Jared kept his fingers lightly to the waning pulse of their mutual friend as they both listened to the call, muffled through the choir room door, the conversation punctuated with occasional pauses as the older man sought to answer questions over the phone.
"No, I'm not righ'ly sure how old she is, ma'am. Mebbe early twenties or so? Yes'm. Yes'm, that's right. No, I don't think she was breathing when they found her. No. Ah, she's a friend of my nephew's, another singer. She is singin' in his wedding today."
"I can't feel a pulse," Jared stammered as he looked across at James. "Unzip her top," he said, rolling Cara's limp body gently towards him. Quick but trembling fingers darted out and unzipped the dress he had just zipped for her a few minutes before. With it loose, Jared laid her back down again. His large hands locked over her chest and he began pumping, tentatively at first, but then harder and faster. He counted softly under his breath, then paused. "Breathe," he instructed.
James took the cue and bent down to his ashen-faced lover. Her lips had turned blue now, as soft as before. He breathed into her again, then paused and looked across at Jared, letting Cara exhale softly between them. His mind was suddenly all over the place. This isn't how today was supposed to be and it might end up a lot worse...
"Don't go there," Jared cautioned. "Put it out of your head." James nodded, but couldn't. Not seeing her like this. He looked down at Cara, a wildness in his grey eyes. Her bare shoulders rocked gently as Jared began a new round of compressions. His movements were sharp, forceful against her limp body. He paused in his count, but James didn't need to be told; Cara's lips remained delicately parted, waiting.
"Breathe" he begged her softly. Sealing his lips over hers, James breathed deeply into Cara's lifeless body, then reached out to stroke Cara's hair, her cheek tenderly. "Breatheâ, please." His voice was thick with emotion.
Jared and James settled into a rapid rhythm, an even cadence of compressions slowed only long enough for James to breathe for Cara. James continued to caress the pale face of his beloved, his fingers trembling but time seemed to slow for James as sirens wailed in the distance, every heartbeat in his chest an eternity. His mind wandered to memories, moments shared with Cara. Times they had spent laughing, talking, sharing their hopes, fears and dreams. Intimacy. A thousand things flashed in his mind, overwhelming him. He stared down at her, tears filling his eyes.
"James? Breathe for her, James," Jared commanded as he paused his compressions, but James didn't move, frozen with panic. Instead, Jared leaned down, mouth pressed to Cara's and exhaled deeply. Her chest rose with his forceful breath, breasts rising against the loosened top of her ball gown. As he parted lips from his friend, the breath escaped from Cara's open mouth.
As Jared began a new round of compressions, the door opened to the choir room, admitting an EMT escorted by Jared's uncle. A short woman of Vietnamese descent carried an orange canvas bag of equipment. Her silky black hair was swept back from her face by a bright pink hair band. Pinned to the right side of her uniform was a name tag that read "Keri". Her actions were crisp, deliberate as she moved to Cara's side and knelt down, unzipping the bag. Jared glanced at it quickly before returning his focus to providing compressions for Cara.
Keri's voice bore only the faintest trace of a foreign accent as she fired off rapid questions. James struggled to make sense of them, unable to cut through the shock of seeing the woman he loved laying lifeless on the floor. What happened? Any known allergies? History of asthma, heart problems, diabetes? Does she smoke? Drink? What medications did she take? Any recreational drugs? Jared, breathless from his efforts, answered the questions as best he could.
Moments later, the rest of the team of paramedics came through the door, pushing a gurney laden with various bits of rescue equipment. Suddenly, the room was a buzz of people and activity. James only possessed a dim awareness of what was happening around him, completely numb as one member of the team, a black man of medium build, gently pulled him away from Cara's side. The man, identified as Marcus by his name tag, deliberately turned James away from the scene unfolding and continued prodding him with questions about Cara. From time to time, James would risk a glance over his shoulder to Cara, but each time Marcus would draw his focus back. As the team took over complete control of the situation, Jared came to stand beside his friend, breathing heavily. Where James was unable to answer, Jared tried to reply to the best of his knowledge.
A crowd had gathered outside the choir room now, the door propped open by a wooden wedge doorstop allowing each to watch in shocked silence. Ignoring tradition, Shelly stood among the people in the crowd, radiant in her wedding dress. Jared turned to see his bride in the doorway. Their eyes locked for a moment as a sad look of silent understanding passed between them.
James half turned back to the scene on the floor behind him as the sound of ripping fabric caught his attention. Cara's dress had been cut and ripped open unceremoniously, her strapless bra snipped away. Her torso was completely bare and James noticed that her pale skin had turned a sickly shade of blue. A blood pressure cuff had been fitted around her arm and electrodes stuck to her skin. One EMT was performing compressions, blue-gloved hands pressed against Cara's naked chest, while a second waited at her head with an ambu bag fitted over Cara's mouth after having started an IV and emptying the contents of a syringe into it. James couldn't tear his eyes away from the horrible scene before him. The monitor came online and James's heart skipped a beat as the alarms screamed. The rescue team remained calm, and composed, quietly efficient as they worked on her. His head swam, and the room grew quiet, distant.
"And what is your relation to Miss Blackwell?" Marcus was asking again, trying to regain James's attention. A new whine filled the air as the defibrillator was charged. James and Jared both watched as Keri applied conductive gel to the paddles, coating them evenly before placing the cold metal to Cara's cool skin. The crew backed away from Cara on Keri's command, and as soon as her staff was out of the way, she discharged electricity into her patient's body. Jared was surprised that Cara's body didn't jerk near as much as they do on tv. In fact, her torso barely jerked at all. As soon as the energy discharged, the alarms ceased their whining for a moment and everyone waited in silence to see if Cara's heart would start beating again. Alarms resumed their squealing. Keri recharged the defibrillator as compressions resumed. "Sir? Sir, what is you relation to Miss Blackwell?" Marcus continued to prod.
"Wha..what?" James asked as he turned back slowly.
Marcus simplified the question. "Are you her next of kin?"
James began to answer that he was just her boyfriend when Jared piped up. "Yes. He is." James looked confused, but didn't argue. He was the closest thing she had to family for a thousand miles, anyhow.
"Good," Marcus replied. If Marcus picked up on the deception, he didn't let on. "When we get to the hospital, we're going to need you to fill out some paperwork and things like that."
The EMTs paused a moment to lift Cara onto the gurney before resuming their efforts. Keri was ready again with the defibrillator paddles. As before, everyone waited in silence as they watched. The angry whine of alarms again filled the air.
"Get her loaded," Keri ordered. "We need to move."
Marcus tried again to draw James's attention. "We're going to transport her to Saint John's Medical Center. Do you know the way?"
James looked a little lost as he glanced back to Cara, then back to Jared and Marcus. "Yeah? Yeah I think so."
Jared looked back to Shelly. She had heard a bit of the conversation, and nodded to Jared. She knew what her husband-to-be was already thinking, and agreed.
"C'mon James. I"ll drive."
Marcus nodded and strode off quickly, shooing people out of the doorway ahead of the gurney. One EMT continued to perform compressions, while another worked with the ambu bag. In a rush, the crew pushed the gurney quickly down the hall towards the entrance of the church. Shelly caught Jared's hand and gave it a quick squeeze as he ushered his friend down the hall just a few steps behind Cara and the crew.
Keri had driven the ambulance while Marcus continued to administer CPR to their patient. Another EMT continued to administer medications through the IV and operated the ambu-bag. Keri's voice on the radio was crisp and calm. "Truck fifty-seven to Saint Johns. Mid twenties female in cardiac arrest inbound. No prior conditions. ETA four minutes."
"Understood fifty-seven. Bay three clear."
By the time the EMTs arrived at the hospital, Cara had been intubated and defibrilated again. Upon arrival, a half dozen trauma nurses ran to meet the ambulance and get the patient inside.
Trauma bay three was a large room filled with various life-saving equipment. In short order, Cara was hooked to a ventilator to breathe for her. One of the nurses took over CPR while Marcus quickly filled in the doctor on all the known information. AED pads were attached to Cara's bare chest and the heart monitor electrodes were switched over to the hospital's machine. The doctor, Amanda, ordered more medication for Cara's IV and had compresssions continued for another sixty seconds to circulate it through the body. After the sixty seconds, another shock was administered...
...the alarms stopped as Cara's heart stopped quiverring altogether.
~ . ~
Jared and James arrived at the emergency room waiting area. James paced for a while, trying to keep his emotions in check. After a few minutes, he broke down and sobbed broken hearted. Jared put his arms around his friend and let him cry. Hell, he felt like crying too. They did all they could for her, hadn't they? This wasn't how today was supposed to be. It was supposed to be a happy day...
After a while, James calmed himself. "Jared, go back to the church. Shel is waiting on you."
Jared looked uncertain. "I don't want to leave you alone..."
James shrugged. "I'll call you later if I find anything out."
"Are you sure...?"
James sniffled, rubbed his red eyes, but nodded.
Jared gave his best friend a hug. "We'll be praying."
"Thanks, its appreciated."
~ . ~
"Mr. Edwards?"
James turned away from his reflection to face a tall, graceful woman. Honey blonde hair hung halfway down her back, gathered loosely at her neck with a black rubber band. He dimly recalled her name was Amanda, a memory jogged as his eye caught her name tag while she strode towards him purposefully. She was a doctor, but clad in violet scrubs, a black stethoscope draped around her neck. She stopped before him, speaking softly. Her blue eyes were cool, her face calm and carefully composed.
"I wanted to let you know that we've moved Cara into ICU. We got her back in the emergency room. She's being extubated now. You can see her if you want."
James was stunned. He was sure the news was bad. Sure of it. And yet...?
"So she's okay?"
"She's going to need a pacemaker. Its a relatively simple procedure. She'll be in the ICU for at least 48 hours and then we'll do the procedure. The ICU generally specific visiting hours, but since her next of kin is so far away, you can stay with her as long as you like. And when she's moved to a normal floor, there are pull out beds. You don't have to be apart. I can only imagine how difficult this has been for you. But if it had not been for your quick actions and that of your friend, this would have ended much differently."
"Id like to see her, then..." James's voice was thick with emotion.
Amanda led him down the corridor and stopped at the nurses station. She gave them orders that he was to be allowed to stay with the patient at all times if he desired. They began to protest, but one icy glare hushed them immediately.
She led them further down the hall and slid open a glass door. Inside was a large bed with a recliner beside it. Cara was awake, if only barely. An oxygen mask was over her mouth and nose, standard protocol after intubation. She brightened up when she saw James. He rushed to her side, slipped his arms around her and gave her a gentle embrace. "Oh God, I thought I lost you, he whispered in her ear," tears springing to his eyes.
"Im not that easy to get rid of," she said, her voice slightly muffled by the oxygen mask.
He sat down beside her, held her hand and stroked her hair. Tears fell down his cheeks unashamedly. It isn't the way he wanted it to be. It wasn't the most glamorous way. But when life can be taken from you so quickly...
James reached into his pocket. "Cara, today has been the day from hell. I should probably wait and do this differently, but I couldn't bear the thought..." He showed her the ring. "Will you be my wife?"
It was her turn to cry. She pulled the mask from her face. She couldn't sing in her usual range, but the meaning was there.
"Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime. Say the word and I will follow you.
Share each day, each night, each morning.
Say you love me..."
James smiled and added the next line in his rich baritone. You know I do.
Together they finished. "Love me, that's all I ask of you."
James extended the ring, and she nodded. He placed it on her finger and she admired it. Gently, James replaced the mask on her face. "Get some rest. I'll be here right beside you."
He held her hand as she drifted off to sleep, and he texted Jared. "She said yes
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defibcprm2m · 4 years
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I wouldn’t mind being the patient here
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https://youtu.be/t0gDNUaT8X4
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defibcprm2m · 4 years
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It may be different this year but at least we got to see fireworks last night.... and probably as close as I’ll ever get to be to a fireworks launch... the fragments of the shells landing on us was fun...
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defibcprm2m · 4 years
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Preach! (Or A face shield if you truly can’t wear a mask for medical reasons like my father)
Don’t Argue With Me!
You want to be a dumbass and not believe in taking precautions due to covid because you’re one of those “anti government/conspiracy” ppl that’s fine.
BUT you’re one of those ppl who won’t wear a mask in public because of your beliefs. Or because the government told you to so you want to rebel. Or because wearing a mask infringes on your comfortablity. Idk what stupid reasons ppl believe. Yes, I understand “science” hasn’t proven the effectiveness of wearing a mask stops covid spread. But YOUR attitude is putting everyone else at risk!
Says a person who lives in a small town who doesn’t even have to deal with covid. I shudder to believe if your town did.
Despite being a Public Policy major and not even believing in the bureaucracy, this is the one time I’m gonna error on caution and actually listen to what the government is telling us to do.
I’m scared shitless about this virus. I’m one of the vulnerable populations who if caught it would have a very hard time overcoming it.
I am NOT DYING from this virus! Nope. Despite not really liking my family I’m not gonna do that to them. I have other, if very few, important ppl in my life who I want to live for. I want my dream steth meet dammit! Lol
But seriously, the whole point of this post is, you can have your opinions, it’s pretty evident that I think your opinions are stupid! Sorry but it’s true. You wanna risk your health or believe that “religion” or that you’re somehow immune to catching covid, you’re crazy but okay. Just think of your fellow man. Your lack of wanting to protect yourself is putting others at risk. This attitude is the reason this virus keeps spreading. Millions of others feel the same way as you.
Just wear a damn mask 🙄
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defibcprm2m · 4 years
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And all are amazing reads I may add!
Several of you have asked for links to my stories. I’m going to assemble links here to make it easier :)
Story Archive
The Good Doctor - Part 1: Do No Harm. Unless she gives consent and its in the name of science.
The Good Doctor - Part 2: A bit of fun leads to an actual emergency. Finale of The Good Doctor.
The Dusty Trail Cafe: A medical emergency at a middle-of-nowhere hole-in-the-wall.
Seasons - Old friends bump into each other, reminiscing a chance encounter years before on a different continent.
Vacation (a hybrid story) - A couple travels to a remote destination for a bit of r & r when things take a sudden nosedive.
The Scenic Route - A short, smutty description of all the good things that happen if you take your time…
Dancing with Demons - A short, stream-of-consciousness story. (Non-resus generic fiction)
The Ledge - When everything seems to be going to hell, the companionship of a demon makes things a little more tolerable. (Non-resus generic fiction)
Genesis - And on the fifth day, Satan created scorpions. (Non-resus generic fiction)
Stress Kills - Part 1:  Insert witty blurb here, eventually.
Stress Kills - Part 2: I should probably get around to finishing this one.
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defibcprm2m · 4 years
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Hello. Could any of my followers reblog this? I am trying to demonstrate that someone is always listening.
❤🧡💛💚💙💜❤
SuicideAwareness
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defibcprm2m · 4 years
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The Royal family... Very distant cousin but yeah I'm related to Harry and William
Are you related to anyone famous? Let’s hear it! Please reblog - I’m curious!!
Celine Dion (Canadian musical -powerhouse-): second cousin
Newton (“Newt”) Knight (Civil War Unionist; abandoned his post in the Confederate army and led a rebellion in Jones County, Mississippi, eventually seceding from the Confederacy. “Officially” divorced his first wife, Serena, to marry former slave, Rachel. In practice, however, the trio maintained a combined home and raised a blended, bi-racial family.): great-great-great-great(?) grandfather (via his union with Rachel). A movie, “Free State of Jones”, was made in 2016 starring Matthew McConaughey as Newt Knight.
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