#(fevers puking and lung infections)

[eddis-not-eeddis]

I need some prayers. My health is really bad right now, and i might lose my job.

#i had to go home on Saturday because I had a fever and wasn't really able to function #I took Monday off two weeks ago so I could see a doctor about some of the health issues I have #then today I had another COMPLETELY unrelated health problem that sent me home (it's sent me home from my last job on multiple occasions) #i don't know what to do #i keep getting sick #(fevers puking and lung infections) #and i can't kick it #and that's ON TOP of the other chronic issues I've been dealing with for the last three or four years #i'm so discouraged and upset right now and i have no idea what on earth I'm gonna do #i just want to get better and not have to deal with this #i have never been this sick for this long in my entire life #but I've been sick for month long stretches three times already this year #i don't know what to do at this point #i hate this so much

[justadeadreaper]

CW: Gore, Death, Puke, Decaying flesh, Buboes, Blood, Description of the symptoms of the different plagues in The Black Death, Gruesome description of how the representation would look like, Please tell me if anything that should be put as a warning was not, thanks.

The most feared plague in history, The Black Death.

Mainly the bubonic plague mixed with its two more deadly brothers the pneumonic plague and septicemic plague. It was the deadliest plague of the time as it ran through Europe, Africa, and Asia and conquered any village, town, and city it found itself in, flooding the streets with blood, mucus, and rotted flesh as once healthy humans dropped dead from the plague that seemed to come from nowhere before it dragged everyone to the Hell it had seemed to have spawned from. It did not care who you were, it did not discriminate, rich or poor, loved or hated, known or not, it would blow out the little life that you had. It thrived off the fear and only seemed to grow stronger as another soul joined the long chain of victims that had already succumbed to the disease. Anywhere from twenty to sixty percent of the population of the time was taken by it.

The perpetrator? Yersinia pestis. The carriers? Fleas. The spreader? Rats but some say it could have actually been hamsters that were stowaways. But how were the rats able to spread? Trading ships that jumped from town to town leaving a deadly gift as it sailed away that would lead to the death of all that were unfortunate enough to live there.

Now you may ask what would happen if you were to catch it and let me tell you it was living torture. It would start with a simple flea bite but that flea was infected with Yersinia pestis causing it to build a barrier in its stomach so no blood could be digested or go into its stomach causing it to build up and be infected by the bacteria, and this blood would be thrown back up by the flea onto the wound infecting it as it would be absorbed into the bloodstream. From entering the bloodstream it could take one of three routes: the lymphatic system, continuing through the bloodstream, or directly to the lungs. If you were lucky enough for it to infect your lymphatic system then you had a sixty percent chance of dying meaning you had a forty percent chance of surviving. Even though you had more chances of surviving it did not mean that you were saved from not suffering, from one to seven, or if you were lucky eight, days of contracting the disease was when it would show symptoms. At first it would trick you into the false belief that you only had the flu. You would have a general feeling of being ill, lethargic and weak which only grew into worse fatigue as the days went on, followed by chills and a high fever which anyone would know just seems to be like a normal cold but then that soon developed into muscle cramps in your aching limbs as seizures overtook the body. Then it would present the symptom that gave it the name the bubonic plague, buboes. These were when the lymph nodes would balloon to become large, painful, smoothe swellings which would occur near the original area of infection alongside the groin, neck, and armpits which would continue to grow until they burst. You also had the issue of your skin slowly beginning to necrotise as it died alongside the lenticulae which were small black dots that would be scattered across your body and gangrene took over your lips, nose, toes, and fingers which all caused severe pain to the point you would rather die there and then instead of waiting it out to see if you had the lucky chance of surviving. Of course there were other symptoms like heavy breathing as your lungs felt like they were being held down by rocks, your own body becoming like the flea as it would start to vomit gallons of infected blood, coughing, gastrointestinal problems, and spleen inflammation, but in some cases even the sleep would be disturbed to the point of insomnia where sleep would be impossible to get as your were forced to stay awake to feel all the pain that riddled your body. But then the worst of the systems came at the final stage as delirium came and took over any rational thought as all organs began to fail from the disease overcoming them and causing them to shut down which only led to a coma, but it all ended the same way, death.

If you were unlucky enough for it to infect your lungs first or just infect your lungs before the other systems became worse then you had a ninety-five percent chance of dying meaning you had a five percent chance of surviving. To make the pneumonic plague even worse you could develop it even after being infected by either the bubonic plague or the septicemic plague; it could also be caught from not just it infecting your lungs after a bite which infected the bloodstream but by also breathing in air borne droplets of the bacteria from another thing that was riddled with the plague. As it would normally be caught after having bubonic or septicemic plague it meant that at first you would present all the symptoms from the other plagues before experiencing the specifics of the pneumonic plague. At first you would think you have a fever but a severe one as headaches, nausea, and weakness run rampant as if it was trying to warn you that this would be no normal bubonic or septicemic plague. Luckily compared to the bubonic plague the time you would suffer with this plague was a great short, even though it would take around three to seven days before the symptoms showed as soon as the symptoms worsened or even showed you could guarantee that you would be dead within thirty-six hours, most likely less. You would be constantly vomiting for three days straight as your lungs slowly began to feel as if they were being sewn shut at each bronchus, only leading to each breath becoming shorter and shorter as you seemed to constantly be coughing and rasping for the tiniest bit of unrestrained air. Then soon enough your lungs would spew out a bloody and watery mess that would stain your tongue with its mercury taste which you would continue to cough out in between the vomiting until you went into shock as your full respiratory tract went into failure and just stopped, finally leading to death.

But if you were the most unfortunate person alive on Earth at the time that every God seemed to hate since it stayed in your bloodstream and completely infected your blood it meant you had no chance of surviving as you had a hundred percent chance of dying. It made the other two diseases seem like child’s play as it normally only took around fourteen hours before it shut down the body, worse of all it could even kill you without showing any of the symptoms. Like the others you would think it was a common cold due to the fever, chills, and low blood pressure but soon enough severe abdominal pain would set in as it felt like you were dying due to the extreme amount of diarrhea which would be accompanied by nausea that only led to severe vomiting. But soon enough the vomit and diarrhea would be filled with blood until it was fully red as the body lost most of its clotting resources from the tiny blood clots that had formed throughout the body so it could no longer control the blood which started to bleed into the skin and organs creating red or black patches of rashes or bumps which could be seen on the skin. The blood clotting also caused necrosis as tissue and organs would die from the lack of blood flow as it all leaked into where it should not, the most obvious spots of the decay were the gangrene in the fingers, nose, and toes. Then the bleeding would extend from not just bleeding in the body but blood coming out from the rectum but most noticeably the mouth and nose where it would come out like a waterfall. Obviously due to the blood leaking into everything it would cause difficulty breathing as it would fill the lungs and deprive it of the blood outside the lungs that was needed to exchange the carbon dioxide for oxygen. And with no blood to deliver the oxygen needed for the organs to live they all would go into organ failure causing the body to go into shock before the final moments where everything went back as it was taken over by death.

As it can be seen all of them had the same outcome, death.

Luckily nowadays the plagues are a simple pest if the person has access to treatment to stop it from progressing further but at the time that The Black Death ran rampant no one had the luxury of those treatments leading most to die who caught it. Masses upon masses of bodies continued to build up only attracting more of the rats then the ones that had already been attracted to the large towns by the excrement and rotting butcher’s meat that made a river through the streets. With more rats that withered away from the disease it just meant more fleas would jump to more human hosts to use which only led to more living corpses to roam the streets as the disease turned people into skeletons while still living before turning them into an actual corpse.

It was understandable as to why humans of the time would be so scared of such a thing as to them it just seemed like their fellow mortals were dropping like lowly flies that would eat away at the flyblown flesh that continued to pile away in mass graves to create more nests for their larvae and eggs to incubate inside. Imagine the terror and fear that must have filled their minds as they did not understand pathogens at the time, to them it would have seemed like divine wrath but no one could think of a reason as to why their Almighty would betray them like this as everyone appeared to be on their best behaviour. They needed something to blame. They found something to blame. 

Simple rumours turned into truths.

Somewhere in England there was said to be a village. Small, nothing of concern as it was like every other village of the time. Like every other village it had a butcher, a silent man who was rumoured to once be a knight but no one knew why he was not anymore. He tended to be quiet, avoiding others who were not his friends and family. It was said that he loved his nephew and that if he had enough swigs of barley that you could get him singing and dancing on the roof or you could convince him to give you his primest cuts of meat. He was deemed as normal, he was like everyone else, until one day.

No one knew what happened. It was supposed to be a joyous day to celebrate the coming of winter but it was far from that. Nearly the whole family was found butchered with a precision only expected to be known by a trained killer. The lower left leg and most of the fingers of the right hand of the older brother laid in a puddle of blood but they could not find the rest of his body; the mutilated body of the brother’s wife was spread around slightly from each different part as if when she was being attacked the culprit had went after another member while still holding onto the part it was hacking off; the body of their son was curled into the corner clutching onto the leg of his mother while out of the stab holes that covered his body in ten folds nearly making him unidentifiable oozed out blood into a bloody puddle that collected around his body; and finally the grandmother of the family who was found decapitated in her rocking chair with her head being found outside within the well. The only one not found dead was the butcher and when he returned, covered in blood, everyone turned their suspicions to him. When he tried to explain that he had been out hunting but had been attacked by a large grey man no one believed him, especially when they saw the crazed look within his eyes that could only be produced by when they had let Beelzebub into their soul. Everyone agreed to grab their pitchforks and chase him out so no more could be hurt.

It was only a few months before the figure started to appear across the world. People from the village murmured to other villages and beyond when they heard what the figure looked like in its earlier stage that they believed it to be the same butcher infected with the plague of Beelzebub to infect the world with their sin to bring more to Hell. Everyone believed him to be the reason for the spread of the plague. It was said that if you were to see him within the fields outside of any town, village, or city that all the inside were destined to die. 

The Ghost of The Black Death.

A figure that would strike the fear into the hearts of all.

A horde of rats followed behind him in trails as flies buzzed around his head, if he was near you would always see a Black Shuck which commanded a storm alongside it as if they were his hounds of doom brought along to give the townsfolk warning of their dire fates and to pray to the Almighty while they were still apart.

A black coat hid the majority of his body as bloodied rags of old hunting gear of a peasant hung off of skeletal remains with a jaw hanging off his neck as if it was a necklace as it was tied there with rope. Messy blonde hair spread out in all directions as blood leaked out from the tear ducts in a false mockery of the tears that millions had split in their last moments. No nose or bottom jaw could be found, decayed off long ago. The face looked skeletal as teeth, gums, and a tongue were exposed to the bitter air that reeked of death and loss as the cheeks were tattered in form as more skin continued to flake off as it continued to decays; once blue eyes so full of life were left sunken, dead as if they were another victim that had succumb to the plague that the Ghost was said to bring alongside him. A trail of buboes surrounded his neck as if it was a noose to which he could hang himself with as the tail was marked by a diversion of buboes that wrapped around and under his arms to around his groyne. His spine and ribs jutted out for all to see underneath the greyed skin which was littered with blackened patches of decay as branches of red veins leaked and bleed out to leave a path of blood in his wake for all to track him by. Still, as he rotted away, vague faints of the muscular body that had been far gone from its prime lingered where it once remained. The bottom of his calves with his feet and the bottom of his forearms with his hands had turned black and mummified from the decay and gangrene that had taken them over, leaving no remaining sensations within the hands to feel the warmth of a human ever again for the rest of eternity.

If you were to see him late at night, staring into your soul you better pray that The Ghost does not turn you into another soul like him.

#plague!cod au #plague simon #plague ghost #cod #call of duty #simon ghost riley #ghost #ghost cod #simon riley #ghost call of duty #ghost simon riley #cw: gore #cw: death #cw: sickness #cw: puke #cw: decay #bubonic plague #the black death

[blood-grove]

Werewolf Bites

nausea -> next stage of infection

tws; sickness , injuries , vomiting , violence, no use of y/n

parings: gaz x male reader (established relationship)

-> c/n - call sign

-> n/n - nickname

a/n: hehehe im excited for this. also idk how military shit works im winging it your here for gaz no complete accuracy

Why did it have to be you.

You had missed a room while clearing out this corridor of the building this mission was supposed to be a easy co-op with you and Gaz.

But now your were trying to claw off this big fucking dog from ripping your throat out your gun somewhere dropped in surprised of getting lunged at.

It sunk its fangs deep into your shoulder dangerously close to your neck as blood spewed and your cried out in agony you finally got a hold of your combat knife sinking it into the dogs body repeatedly till it slumped over dead.

Shoving the corpse off you, You bit your tongue as burning pain flared up in your shoulder Gaz's crackly voice over your radio finally audible now with the lack of your cries of pain and dog growls.

"c/n? c/n how copy?"

You swallowed back the bile building in your throat as you heaved grabbing your radio flicking it on shakily as tried to focus with the searing pain in your shoulder.

"c/n here— fuck" You hissed as you pushed yourself up with your good arm.

"c/n? give me a sitrep you went silent on me."

"..Fuckin' dog got me- I opened up a room and the fucker pounced huge fuckin' thing." You looked over at your wound grimacing at the sight of bruising blooming as blood trickled down your arm near excessively.

"Shit..Can you make it back to the main entrance?..I got the files ill radio for exfil."

"I..I can"

"c/n."

"I can"

"Alright."

You flicked your radio off as you trudged your way back where you came.

"Bloody hell c/n you gotta be more careful."

Gaz gently chided as you huffed wincing.

"Your lucky the fucker didn't rip your throat out.."

You grumbled looking aside the future rabies shots were not going to be a pleasant thing to be welcomed with when you both reached back at base.

"You alright..? Looking a bit pale."

"M'fine..Just..A bit woozy."

"Mm..exfil is a another hour or two out still don't go all rabies on me before then how about that."

You chuckled dryly as you blearing blinked as you leaned over dry heaving before puking your guts out catching Gaz off guard as he steadied you so wouldn't fall over into your own bile gently rubbing your back.

"Fuck..It's okay..Christ."

Coughing and gagging the unpleasant taste of bile lingering in your mouth as Gaz helped you sit down away from your mess.

"Just..Just sit down and rest..When we get home they'll fix you right up no? You'll have a killer scar after this all."

You got hummed coughing as Gaz wiped your face clean despite how you mumbled how gross it was as he kissed your forehead shushing your incoherent ramble.

You hadn't gotten any better and the exfil wasn't that far away now Gaz updated you as he held you close you were sweating bullets managing to keep down the water from your canteen.

He assured and updated on the helis time frame to reach you both, You could tell he was nervous never the best at hiding his emotions from you even in this fever ridden mess you were.

"There gonna be here soon love, Mm? Gonna get you back in shape..Hows the shoulder?."

You mumbled swallowing thickly as you shifted in his arms.

"You gotta speak up for me Lovie tell me how you are?"

"M'all sticky.."

"Well I'd guess so your sweating buckets..They'll be here soon okay?"

He sighed as he rana hand threw your near damp hair eventually giving you a few more sips of water as you both waited.

Exfil was quick a another solider helping you up into the heli a medic waiting along inside that went to work on you as you were laid onto the floor.

But all you remembered was falling asleep and awaking on the warm earth.

Running your hands threw the soft soil as you sat up a chill still rattling your bones.

"Gaz?"

You called out as you looked around cautiously your hand drifted too your holster to find it gone along with all other gear gone.

You felt bare exposed like a nerve the flicker and twitch of muscle felt like tremors in the earth as you looked around you saw nothing but forest.

"Kyle?"

Still nothing.

You frowned as you looked around you felt so warm you guessed it was the sun beaming down on you.

You hadn't been walking long till you reached a river bed the sudden parched feeling in your thought becoming know as you greedily gulped down water.

What was even going on?

You felt like you hadn't drank in days.

When you looked up you flinched at the sight of the dog that attacked you.

Or at least you thought it was a dog at the time.

It just stared at you, Yellow eyes staring you down as foam dripped down from his maw the foam slowly bubbling up into a pinkish tinge as blood dripped from its mouth .

It probably had rabies.

You did too.

You hoped.

#cod #gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #gaz x male reader #reader #werewolves #werewolf au #hehe #kyle gaz x reader #kyle garrick #call of duty #no use of y/n #hehehhe

[corinthianism]

last kiss | sam winchester (3)

pairing: sam winchester/f!reader additional tags: best friends to lovers (?), fluff, angst

masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter | ao3

CHAPTER THREE: A BRUSH WITH DEATH (AND PESTILENCE)

Serenity Valley Convalescent Home was quite a sight, in that it was the most depressing building you’d ever seen. There was no way Pestilence wasn’t there. 

The two brothers agreed with you on that. Dean said it looked like a four-color brochure for dying young. It earned a chuckle from you and a small smile from Sam, despite the anxiety simmering in your gut from coming face-to-face with another Horseman. 

All three of you walked into the building, chests heavy with anticipation. If the brothers did feel anxious, they were damn good at not showing it. You had to keep your wits about you as well. As soon as you stepped in, all you could sense was disease. The whole place reeked of it. You glanced at your companions. The look on their faces told you that they were thinking the same thing. In a room oozing with sickness, you stood out like sore thumb. 

Dean approached a security guard, asking him if he’d seen his “grandma” Eunice Kennedy. Of course, that was before Dean knocked him out. Sam eyed a monitor, thinking that he may have found their culprit. You shared a look, interrupted by Dean briefly falling in and out of consciousness. You needed to find Pestilence and you needed to find him fast. Even staying here for too long could kill all three of you. 

Even you could feel the sickness clawing at your lungs.

As you traversed the hallways of the convalescent home, the staff and patients were dropping like flies. A doctor puked all over the floor, dropping to his knees whilst angry red spots broke out on the skin of a shrieking nurse. Seconds later, they were dead.

Sam coughed, and with it came blood, “Must be getting close.”

“You think?” Dean grunted, trying desperately to stay upright and walking. You, on the other hand, could feel your lungs constricting. Each minute you spent in this damn building brought you closer to death, and you’d be damned if you didn’t save the world before you went down. As much as Pestilence tightened his grip on you, the plague injected into your bloodstream, you could not falter. Not now. 

So you marched onward, trying to ignore the sight and stench of corpses littered in ugly and painful boils. You made your way to one of the rooms, but before you could investigate it even further, Dean fell to the floor. Immediately, you and Sam were at his side, trying to hold him up but eventually, you all fell. Coughs echoed through the hallways and this time, they’re yours.

A nurse walked out from the room you intended to enter, and she blinked. Black eyes. Fuck, if you could just gouge them out right then and there, you would. 

And as if things couldn’t get any worse, she went ahead and pulled out a cheesy one-liner, “The doctor will see you now.”

Sam pulled out a knife in one last attempt to save you and Dean. He heaved as he swung weakly, his knees giving out whilst the knife clattered to the floor, forgotten.

Right on cue, Pestilence appeared, a victorious smile on his face because he had the fucking Winchesters rolling on the floor, “Ah, the Three Musketeers. Come right in.”

He had his demon henchmen throw you all into the room like ragdolls. On the bed, there was woman who was barely recognizable underneath the abscess, boils, and whatever-the-hell Pestilence infected her with. If it weren’t for the fact that you could barely breathe yourself, you would’ve vomited from the sight alone. 

“Hmm,” Pestilence pretended to inspect you, his sickly hand brushing against your forehead. “You don’t look so well. It might be the, uh, scarlet fever or… uh, the meningitis. Oh! Or the syphilis. That’s no fun.”

He eyed you, “I think I’ve got one with a… hah, healthy dose of pneumonia here.”

His tone rose with each disease he named with what you could only assume was excitement. He was excited that he would be the one to exact revenge on the three of you for what you did to his brothers, and that he was the one who would end the Winchesters once and for all.

“However you feel right now? It’s gonna get so very, very much worse. Questions?” he smiled sadistically. “Disease gets a bad rap, don’t you think? For being filthy. Chaotic. Uh, but really, that just describes people who get sick. Disease itself… very… pure… single-minded. Bacteria have one purpose. Divide and conquer.”

Pestilence stepped on Dean’s hand, and the sound of his pained scream tore at you. You wanted to get up and fight; to grab this Horseman by the fucking collar and to bash his head into the wall. For Dean. For Sam. For that poor woman on that hospital bed… but you didn’t have the strength. It’d been siphoned from you. It only served to worsen your anger.

“That’s why, in the end, it always wins. So, you’ve gotta wonder why God pours all his love into something so messy and weak. It’s ridiculous. All I can do is show him he’s wrong, one epidemic at a time. Now, on a scale of 1-10, how’s your pain?”

You looked back and forth between Dean and Sam. The feeling… the impending sense of doom that swirled inside of you and blackened your hope was familiar. You’d been through this before. Countless times before. 

You’d felt it at that hospital, when Dean nearly died and John made a deal with Azazel to bring him back. You’ve watched Sam die before; impaled by Jake, and you mourned him for all of a day before Dean went ahead and followed in his father’s footsteps and did the same stupid thing of dealing with a demon. And again when Lilith had her hellhound maul Dean and send him to hell, and you and Sam could do nothing but hold each other as you listened to the screams of his older brother and your best friend.

And all the times before that, back when your world was smaller and all you had to worry about was Yellow-Eyes and the breadcrumbs John left behind. That felt so far away now. Now, you were at the mercy, or lack thereof, of one of the Four Horsemen. 

Still, something told you this wouldn’t be the end. Not now, at least. 

Hope came barging in in the form of Castiel. His name fell from Dean’s lips like a prayer answered, and you couldn’t help but let out a shaky laugh of joy.

“How’d you get here?” Pestilence barked, annoyed. 

“I took a bus.”

Priceless. Leave it to Cas to save the day.

As much as you wanted to see Cas absolutely kick Pestilence’s ass, dark spots were already clouding your vision. Your throat had closed up some fifteen minutes ago, forcing you to draw short, quick breaths to stay alive.

Before you knew it, you passed out. 

▼△▼△▼△▼△▼

“Sleeping Beauty’s awake,” you could hear the sound of Dean’s laugh. “Had a good nap, sweetheart?”

“Not now that I can hear you,” you squinted, your eyes adjusting to the light. It took you a while to realize that you were at Bobby’s.

“Ouch,” Dean brought a hand to his chest in mock hurt, before shooting Sam a look of disbelief. “You act like we don’t have history together. Sammy’s not the only Winchester in your life, you know!”

“Don’t worry, Dean. You’re my second favorite Winchester.”

“There’s only two of us!” he exclaimed, exasperated.

Sam tried to stifle his laugh and the heat blooming on his face. It was known that he was your favorite; he was your best friend after all… but to hear you say it?

Well, let’s just say it brought him a sense of belonging he hadn’t felt in a hot minute. 

“Okay, okay,” he placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder, urging his brother to calm down so they could get back on track. “We got three of the Horsemen’s rings. We just need Death’s.”

“You should be an actor, Sammy. You say it so casually,” you nudged his shoulder teasingly. Dean barked a laugh in agreement. Sam rolled his eyes at you and crossed his arms, a sigh leaving his lips when the gravity of the situation really dawned on him. There wasn’t much you could do about Death, was there?

“Well, at this point, there’s not much we can do but go off of the last clue,” Sam remarked. “Pestilence said something about it being ‘too late’, what does that mean?”

“I’m freaking out a little here. Does he have a bomb or something?” Dean shot Bobby a pleading look. “Please tell us you have some good news.”

Bobby paused, a heavy feeling stewing inside. It was so painfully obvious, especially to you. He always did wear his heart on his sleeve, or perhaps age just softened him. 

“Chicago’s about to be wiped off from the map. Storm of the millennium. Sets off a daisy chain of natural disasters. Three million people are gonna die.”

The room fell silent, the lightheartedness present just moments before now completely eviscerated by Bobby’s update.

It was Cas who spoke up again, “I don’t understand your definition of good news.”

Bobby explained to the angel how it was a blaring alarm for where Death was going to be. Three million deaths didn’t just mean that another once-in-a-lifetime gathering of reapers was in order; it meant that the head honcho himself would be there. He had to be. 

You sank further into your seat, the same old couch you’d sit on whenever you read lore books with Sam all those years ago. You had never felt so small. Compared to the other Horsemen, you knew deep down that Death was just different. You couldn’t possibly comprehend his existence or his power. Three million people? Gone just like that? For the first time since this whole fucked-up journey started, you felt like you were way in over your head.

Sam sat next to you on the old worn-out couch, flashing you a small smile of comfort. 

“Hey,” he whispered.

“Hey.”

“We’ll be okay.”

You forced yourself to look at him, and the fear tore away at another piece of your chest. You were only days away from what would possibly his death. So far, there seemed to be no alternative to his current plan of letting Lucifer possess him. It was ironic, and cruelly so, that you were here chasing after Death with him when it seemed as though death would come for him sooner rather than later. 

“I don’t think we will, Sammy,” you finally answer him. The crack on your heart grew bigger. 

He swallowed down the lump in his throat, unable to say anything else. He knew what this was about, and he wished he could tell you that it wasn’t going to happen the way you thought it would. That he could make it out of this whole thing alive.

But that would be a lie, and Sam was tired of lying. All he could do now was to savor every single moment he could. To remember your face just in case it would be the last time he’d see you. Nearly two decades of you and your friendship and your kindness; God, he was so grateful. He wished he had more time. Eighteen years spent taking your love, and he wished he had the time to give it back, but he didn’t. Not after this.

So you were right, both you and Sam were not going to be okay. 

It made him take a step back, the haze of hunting and saving the world clearing for the first time since he left for Stanford. He’d spent his life chasing after monsters and it made him wonder if he’d done it for so long that he didn’t really need to chase after them anymore. The monsters were just there because he was Sam Winchester, and all that came close to him had a target on their back. Wherever he went, there was a black mark that burned through the soil and flesh and he prayed to whoever would listen that you would be clean of it; that you would be clean of him. 

He’d never seen you so broken down. Sam realized that no matter how much he gave up, this world and this life would still keep taking from him. It angered him, it truly did, because there was this bitterness that stewed in his chest from the fact that it was his family that paid the price of peace. Peace that he couldn’t guarantee for you. 

Sam thought he was a curse, and it killed him to know that you wanted him here with you still. He wanted you to hate him because at least you’d be far away from him and out of harm’s way, but here you were: you loved him, he loved you, and it would poison the both of you until eventually, someone broke. It would have to be him.

“It’s fine,” you smiled weakly at him. “We don’t have to talk about this now. We have things to do.”

For a few seconds, he just stared at you, as if he was willing the words to come out of his mouth but they just couldn’t. Again, there was his “kicked puppy” look. It made you laugh, just a little bit, so you placed a soft kiss on his cheek. The warmth of his skin under your palm brought you back to happier days.

“We have things to do,” you repeated even though it hurt. All he could do was place his hand over your own. For now, that was enough.

▼△▼△▼△▼△▼

“Things to do” was a massive understatement for what you were about to do. Sam, Cas, and Bobby headed to a Niveus Pharmaceuticals warehouse after discovering Pestilence’s plan to spread the Croatoan virus worldwide. You, Dean, and Crowley headed to Chicago to intercept Death, whatever that meant. Even with Death’s scythe in your possession, you could feel Dean’s nerves radiating off of him. He was gripping the steering wheel a little bit too hard, something he made a point never to do because he took care of this car like it was his child, but it was an obvious tell. 

Your mind was someplace far away, drifting between thinking about this mission and how Sam was faring. He hadn’t updated you yet. 

“Miss your boyfriend?” Crowley quipped from the back of the Impala. You groaned, leaning back against the passenger seat.

Before you could say anything, Dean answered for you, “She does.”

“Dean!”

“What? I thought I was your second favorite Winchester, so who else is the first?”

“Now’s not a good time to be discussing my personal relationships.”

“Oh, so you admit that it’s a relationship?” Crowley added.

“Please shut up.”

The demon snickered again before surprisingly keeping quiet for the rest of the ride. Although you’d never admit it, you appreciated the quick distraction. It pulled you away from your thoughts just long enough to maintain some sort of composure, because you had no idea how you were going to get Death’s ring.

“So… where is he supposed to be?” Dean asked Crowley.

Crowley pointed to a large decrepit building, “Big, ugly building. Horseman’s stable, if you will. He’s in there.”

You leaned forward to get a better look. Dean raised a brow, “How do you know he’s in there?”

“Have you met me? ‘Cause I know. Also, the block is squirming with reapers. I’ll be right back.”

You blinked, and he was gone. You turned to Dean, about to say something when Crowley suddenly returned, face flushed. 

Death wasn’t in the warehouse, and three million people were about to die anyway. How the hell were you going to evacuate the city?

“I strongly suggest that we get out of here,” Crowley noted.

Both you and Dean were in a panic about how you were going to save that many people when Crowley suddenly vanished again. Rage clouded your vision; how the hell can he just disappear like that? When there was so much at stake?

“Crowley, you fu—”

“No need for that, dear,” he pressed a finger against your lips, making a point to wiggle it around. “I found him.”

Dean drove as fast as he could to the place Crowley provided, and it lead the three of you to a now-abandoned pizzeria. The wind picked up and random objects were now up in the air one by one. You and Dean got out of the car, turning around to see Crowley gone. Of course, he was.

“Are you ready?” he asked you, concerned.

“Not really, but that doesn’t really matter, does it?”

He smiled in agreement, before entering the pizzeria first in case something was amiss, holding a vice-like grip on the scythe. You followed close behind, but there was no one or even anything there except a gaunt pale man clad in black sitting in the very middle of the room. He radiated an aura that was almost eldritch, incomprehensible and unfathomable. Fearsome, but natural. Sitting in front of you was a force of nature, and you were just two humans trying to do the right thing. 

“Ah,” the scythe fell from Dean’s hand. “Thanks for returning that. The pizza’s delicious. Sit down. Took you long enough to find me. I’ve been wanting to talk to the two of you.”

“I’ve got mixed feelings about that,” you chuckled nervously. Death only turned his head ever so slightly to acknowledge you.

“So, is this the part where you kill us?” Dean interrupted. 

The corner of Death’s lips turned upward, “You have an inflated sense of your importance.”

You let out a long breath. Yes, amazing, like you needed the whole speech about how utterly insignificant you were. You could feel your hands getting clammy from prolonged exposure to… whatever the hell Death was, but every cell in your body was screaming at you to get the hell out of dodge.

“So why are we still here? What do you want?” you gathered the courage to ask him.

“The leash around my neck,” his cold gaze pierced through you. “—off. Lucifer has me bound to him; some unseemly little spell. He has me where he wants, when he wants. That’s why I couldn’t go to you. I had to wait for you to catch up. He made me his weapon. Hurricanes, floods, raising the dead. I’m more powerful than you can process, and I’m enslaved to a bratty child with a temper tantrum.”

When Dean asked him if he thought we were the ones that could unbind him, Death pointed out his mortal bravado once again. Death took of his ring, sliding it against the table towards the two of you.

“I understand you want this, and I’m inclined to give it to you.”

You were confused. You were in the middle of a city-ending storm, with millions of lives on the line, so you spoke up again, “But what about—”

“Chicago?” he continued monotonously. “I suppose it can stay. I like the pizza. There are conditions: you have to do whatever it takes to put Lucifer in his cell.”

“Of course,” both you and Dean answered.

“Whatever it takes,” Death repeated sternly. “I’m quite fortunate that the two of you are the ones that found me. That makes this discussion easier. Sam Winchester is the only one that can stop Lucifer, and I know what he is to you. I need your word.”

There it was. All the fear you had about facing Death himself was replaced by the decades-old fear you had of losing Sam. Death wanted you to promise him, to take an oath to let your worst fear come true.

“You’re going to let him jump into the fiery pit. Now, do I have your word?”

“Yes,” you answered in unison again. The word felt heavy on your tongue. 

Sam Winchester was going to die, and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

#sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #reader insert #dean winchester #jared padalecki

[smolthealmighty]

Spinaraki Week Round 3 Day 2: Help

Kisses Make the Best of Medicines

Tomura thinks he’s got the flu, but it’s fine because he’s sure he can still fight regardless. Spinner thinks it’s pneumonia so no Shigaraki, you need to lie the hell down. Unrelated fun fact, the list of “strange gecko properties” does not stop at sticking to walls.

~~~~~

“I’m telling you it’s not pneumonia, it’s just a small case of the flu. It’s not like I’m gonna puke blood and die, I’m just playing a little more nerffed than usual until they wear off.”

In spite of Tomura’s affirmations that he was not about to drop dead, Spinner was still trying to grapple him into another coat and tie a makeshift cold compress to his head.

“You’ve been achy and nauseous for two days now, and you’ve been getting chills while I know you already have a high fever!” Spinner protested as he finished tying his river-soaked scarf around Tomura’s forehead, “Can you just stop squirming like an angry toddler and lie down? You’re gonna mess up your lungs even more if you exhaust yourself!”

“It’s December in the woods and I’ve been fighting in 44-hour shifts, of course I’m chilly and achy! And don’t get me started on how I’m just naturally nau-” Tomura exclaimed before breaking out into a coughing fit that sent him sprawling towards the ground. Luckily, Spinner was already close enough to catch him quickly, and Tomura finally gave in and let Spinner help him lie down on the forest floor.

“Look, just because some of my symptoms match both bugs doesn’t automatically mean I have the worser of the two. You’re being more pessimistic than usual.”

“It’s not pessimism its realism!” said Spinner, at this point exasperated beyond belief, “If you do have the worse one than I wanna take it seriously, you’ve got enough odds stacked against you as it is.”

“Oh please, I’ve fought in more garbage conditions before, I can handle this.”

“That doesn’t mean you should damn it!”

Spinner groaned and proceeded to throw himself to the ground next to Tomura, crossing his arms and pouting.

Now who’s acting childish? Tomura thought, but instead said, “Hey, I’ll beat Machia whether I’m sick or not. You don’t gotta worry about us losing or whatever.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about. I just… you’ve got enough on your plate with this mission. I wanna help lessen the weight you’re carrying as much as I can. If that means finding medicine or forcing you to give your body some more rest then I’ll do it.”

Tomura turned his head to see that Spinner was worrying his lip and his eyes were just a bit too shiny. If he didn’t do something to lighten the mood soon then he’d have to deal with a crying Spinner, and as far as Tomura was concerned no one wanted a poor, sad, crying Spinner except maybe a sociopath.

“Pfft, aren’t you sweet?” Tomura said, letting his voice be infected with the affection he had for his friend, “Does it mean giving me warm soup and a goodnight kiss on the forehead?”

The feeling of Spinner’s scaly lips on his forehead when he impulsively gave him said kiss confirmed that yes, Spinner really was willing to do whatever it took to help, even if it left the poor guy with a soft yet obvious blush of embarrassment.

“Hmph, I think we should call the doctor about this, just to see if he’ll get you some medicine or something that’ll make the debuffs suck less,” Spinner stated, barely keeping his composure.

“I wouldn’t count on it,” Tomura replied, a little more breathless than usual, “but maybe he’ll be able to figure out what I’ve got and prove me right.”

“You wish,” Spinner chuckled. Suddenly he paused and reached out to feel Tomura’s forehead, the scales feeling cool but not unpleasant against his skin.

“Huh, that’s strange. Your fever’s gone down. What’s-”

“Hmm, now that you mention it,” Tomura mused as he sat up, “I don’t feel achy either. This must be the fastest flu I’ve ever had!”

“That can’t be right, you don’t just magically get better from pneumonia without some kind of medi- oh.”

“What’s oh?”

If Tomura had looked flushed from his fever before, than the new blush taking over Spinner’s face made him look like his head was on fire. “Uh well,” Spinner fumbled, “This is kinda stupid and probably isn’t an actual explanation but um… did you know that gecko scales are… um… antibacterial?”

Tomura couldn’t help it, he started giggling like a madman. Unlike the illness, the giggling was apparently contagious and soon had Spinner bursting into laughter alongside his friend. They both continued cackling until the rumblings of Machia called them back into battle.

~

“So, who won?”

Tomura and Spinner stared impatiently at Doctor Ujiko as he finished analyzing the test results.

“Neither of you won,” the doctor said as he turned to face them with a stunned expression on his face, “It wasn’t influenza or pneumonia.”

The answer was met with groans by the pair over what was likely a immature bet that now meant nothing, until Spinner asked, “Well, what was it?”

“An infection of Yersinia pestis, manifested in the pneumonic form,” Ujiko said shakily before composing himself, “Now how did you-”

“Ha, pneumonic! I did win!”

“Ugh fine,” Tomura sighed as he admitted defeat, “You can pick the first game in our marathon once we pulverize the mindless boulder-bitch. Alright if you’ve nothing else then send us back doc, we’re ready.”

Once the two were warped back to the battle zone, Ujiko took off his glasses to rub at his sinuses in a vain attempt to mitigate the oncoming headache.

“Tomura Shigaraki, only you would give zero cares to the fact that you caught the black plague and managed to survive it.”

#spinarakiweek2022 #spinarakiweekround3 #spinaraki #shigaraki tomura #spinner #shuichi iguchi #smol’s stuff #smol's stories

[rubyredsiren]

[Wrote a (sorta) sickfic for Sammy during the events of Fight for Sanctuary.]

[cw for vomit/injury/asphyxia(?)]

[she’s just choking on flower petals so nothing hardcore]

Heat. That was all Sammy could process in her delirious state. Oh yeah, and the fact her right arm was so swollen it literally tore the sleeve of her shirt. That wasn’t something she could take her mind off.

Like Mordecai, countless Sanctuary citizens and raiders before her, she’d been ambushed by one of Dahl’s current flowery former boot boys. And now sat holed up against a metal sheet as her fellow vault scouts laid down cover fire.

The sheer weight of her own engorged limb would’ve been detriment enough, but as if to add another hurdle, her lungs were stuffed and lined with red poppies.

Papaver Somniferum, they were called, Sammy had read it in a book once, she thought it was pretty.

Now she was absolutely revolted by the sight of them.

In an attempt to keep further infection at bay, Sammy’s body flushed into a fever pitch, her white blood cells working diligently to keep her in able-bodied condition.

She could hear Da- Ryk- shout something, but it was too blurry to hear over the thrumming of her own blood. A new flower blossomed on her shoulder, absolutely decimating what was left of her sleeve.

Sammy cringed as another nauseating wave of pain rolled over her, making her seize and cough up petals from the shear strain.

Just as she’d made an attempt to process what the former Dahl soldier was saying, he was suddenly knelt beside her, assessing her status with a look she’d only recognized from happier, less painful and hectic days. Before she was a Siren, before she was aware of how unforgiving the whole world is, before she learned what a cheating asshole he was.

Sammy tried to say something, but every intake of breath sent her lungs into a spasm. Even if she managed to speak, it didn’t matter as Ryk pulled her up over his shoulders into a fireman’s carry.

Every bump and jostle made Sammy want to hurl and cough at the same time. And through the delirium and darkness clouding her vision from asphyxiation, Sammy could make out her fellow scouts clearing the way to an operating fast travel station, still laying down cover.

Even if she didn’t trust Ryk, she knew they had her back regardless.

Sammy could see over Ryk’s shoulder as he pulled out his echo, frantically punching in coordinates to the Backburner. The moment he linked up and hit [ENTER], the scenery dissolved in a flurry of blues and cyans. That same weightlessness that came with digistructing overwhelmed her.

Before she had a chance to vomit, gravity and physical being became apparent, and Sammy felt her side and stomach lurch against Ryk’s shoulders. The two groaning as relief washed over, finally out of the firefight.

And then Sammy puked, rolling off of Ryk and landing behind him with an unceremonious “thud!” as she retched.

She didn’t even get to hear the groveling excuse Ryk tried to come up with as a furious Moxxi stormed over to them, nor the frightened expressions of Akachi and Audrey. Not even Butcher’s incoherent jabbering, Delta’s attempts to explain where Ryk couldn’t, TOST-3R’s hope at an optimistic diagnosis, JJ’s determination to keep Sammy awake, and Quincy’s frustrated screaming at everyone to be quiet.

Beaktooth hopped from Delta’s shoulder, down his arm and hesitantly on the ground beside Sammy. The last thing she saw before darkness mercifully took her away were those beady little eyes as he chirped and preened a loose petal from her lip.

She would have laughed if she’d had the breath before finally passing out.

#[well hey there hun; ic] #[chara tags TBA later] #[but for now ooooo angst] #[Sammy: bootboys took my arm and my lungs] #[Sammy: can’t have shit on Pandora] #[slowly getting muse for Sammy again]

[baekhyunja]

My dad isn't the best dad in the world. He's flawed and we fight a lot, and most of it is because of our financial situation. He's the sole earner of my family but things haven't been looking up for us the past few years. It is one of the reasons why things have gotten as bad as it is now- I should have known that he's hidden his illness for a while now because he doesn't want to add more debt into our family burden just because of a "small cough", especially with the pandemic.

It turns out, he has pneumonia and high glucose blood levels. The pneumonia made a hospital reject giving him first aid care this Monday (22/3) despite his COVID tests showing up negative because they were "incapable of handling a possible COVID patient" due to the fact that my dad's lungs x-rays had signs of infection on it. Keep in mind that he has a high fever and isn't even able to walk or go to the bathroom by himself. They didn't even provide a sufficient IV drip for my dad or a fitting oxygen mask. Monday night we brought him home in hopes of treating his sickness at home because we couldn't afford any other options. At 1am, he woke up from his sleep at home and puked. We brought him to an ER 30 mins away that told us on the phone that they would take a patient with possible pneumonia as long as their COVID-19 test come out negative. When we got there, they just stood there for 20 mins looking at my dad convulsing in the car before rejecting to give him care after I showed him his lung results. I begged them to at least give him first aid but they told me condescendingly that if my dad passed away, they wouldn't be liable. So I went home in tears.

Tuesday 6AM my dad went into septic shock. Money be damned, I called an ambulance from a private hospital that informed me they would take possible patients despite them having COVID or not. I thought that my dad could get the first aid help and then later be admitted to a normal room, but when the medics arrived the first thing they told me was: he has to be put into an ICU.

I have just recently resigned from my job due to high risk of COVID-19 exposure, and both my mom and my sibling are unemployed. We've asked for friends and family for help, but it's just not enough given that we don't have an insurance and an ICU room costs $1k/night. As we're living in a third world country, no medical action will be taken before we given if we don't pay first. We've used up all of our penny to the last drop to keep my dad plugged into the ICU machines and keep him alive to this daym

As of right now, he's fighting as hard as he can to keep his body alive. He's doing his best, and I know I should do my best too. I've ran out of options.

If you can help us, please donate at my gofundme or paypal. If you can't, a reblog would help immensely.

His whole life, my dad has always teased me that I don't love him as I never express it verbally. You know how us Asians get- I never said it to him because I assumed that he should just know.

Please help me tell my dad that I love him to his face.

#gofundme #ebegging #signal boost #go fund me #funds #emergency funds #healthcare #covid 19 #donations #donation #help #please help #financial help #boost

[equestrianwritingsstuff]

Summer of Whump #27: Injured

Warnings: left to care for injuries alone, thoughts of death, torture, vomit, hallucinations, fever, hurt villain whumpee

Villain fumbled with his doorknob until it opened. He collapsed with it, using only his momentum to shut the door behind him. Immediately, he slumped against it as the world around him slowly started to fade to black.

When he regained consciousness a few moments later, he momentarily forgot where he was. The pain was so great that it blocked any thoughts from slipping into his mind. He mouth tasted like blood and when he licked his damp lips, he realize that they were covered in blood.

The memories flooded into his mind like a wave, fast and overwhelming. There was Supervillain and Hero and then... Villain choked back tears. Hero abandoned him... she...

Darkness threatened to overcome him again as his mind raced with thoughts. He blinked it away and allowed his gaze to drift down to his thigh. A dagger was in the side, pushed through all the way to the hilt. Villain, with shuddering breaths, grabbed onto it with sticky hands and pulled.

A white flash of pain exploded in front of hid eyes. He let go, his body going slack and his mind spiraling down through a tunnel of oblivion.

The last thing his clouded eyes saw before he blacked out again was new blood pouring out of his wound.

He sat like that for a while, drifting in and out of consciousness. Sometimes he found himself face first into a cool, wooden floor and other times, his cheek was leaned against a cushioning substance. He just barely tried to wonder what was going on. It really didn't matter, and the agony made sure of that.

Once, he woke up enough to drag his broken body to a cupboard. He breifly considered how smart he was to keep his first aid box in a low one before pain consumed him once again. His shaking arms threatened to give out he half hoped that they did.

Villain collapsed to the ground, but didn't pass out. He weakly grabbed to the door of the precious cupboard and opened it. Quickly, he grabbed the kit and opened it.

And then he vomitted without warning, right onto his floor. It racked his broken ribs as they moved with the motion. He began to cough until he started spatting up blood.

His face sunk into the blood and puke, exhausted. He wanted so desperately for someone to find him and help him. He closed his eyes, swimming through his memories. He knew that no one would come, the one that would betrayed him, so he had prioritize injuries.

A boot clashed with his ribs, snapping and breaking them.

A spud bar hit his finger, severing it off.

Another boot hit his jaw. There was a crack right?

Hands grappled at his throat while others tied a heavy chain right above his hips.

He was dragged through barbed wire, glass, and nails.

Tears flowed freely from Villain's bloodshot eyes. The salt stung the open cuts on his cheeks. Sure he was a villain, but did he deserve this? Did he deserve to be tortured half to death and then have to lick his wounds by himself? His head lolled to the side. He didn't know what to do. In the back of his head, he was vaguely aware that shock and adrenaline was preventing the true onslaught of pain from attacking.

He groaned. He had to take care of himself before he was unable to. He opened the first aid box and grabbed guaze pads and other supplies. The dagger was the first to be removed and it would bleed, a lot.

He wrapped a towel into a roll and placed it in between his teeth. The fabric tasted funny from being mixed with all the ointments, but Villain could care less.

His hands then went to the hilt and he hesited. What if he lost consciousness again? He could wake up in complete agony and would die of infection.

Villain pushed those thoughts aside and wrapped his hands around the dagger. Before he pulled, he realized that he was using his hand with four fingers, yet he felt no pain. His heart started beating in anticipation.

Drawing in a deep breath, Villain pulled the dagger out.

Only it stopped half-way out. Villain took in shaky breaths and blinked away the black splotches in his vision. It was barbed.

"Mm," Villain groaned, laying his head back down. He swallowed the limited saliva he had. This was impossible.

More tears spilled. Villain spit out the towel. It fell out, but landed on his cheek, irritating it. He weakly raised his hand to brush it off, but it didn't work. He tried again. No luck. He tried again until frustration allowed him to kick out.

Pain erupted through his leg, centering on the dagger. Villain screamed, loud and laced with sobs.

"I-it hurts," he cried as if someone was with him, tending to him. "It hurts soo bad."

The adrenaline disappeared, leaving Villain beyond tired with a dagger half-stuck in his flesh. Hero would have someone to take care of her. Heck, she would be so pumped full of painkillers that she wouldn't feel a thing as she drifted in and out of lala land. And here Villain was, completely alone without even a simple, warm hug.

He allowed his eyes to slip shut, knowing that sleep could act like a painkiller. But it didn't come, pain kept him awake just like it brought unwanted unconsciousness.

His eyes danced back towards the dagger. Maybe his brain would shut down if he accomplished that one simple task.

Villain dug his fingers into the gnarled flesh, clenching his teeth in pain. He worked to dislodge the dagger until it broke free, clattering on the ground.

Villain sighed in relief, but was caught mid sigh when blood started pouring out the wound at a crazy fast speed. Villain lunged forward, grabbing the towel and earning a broken scream from his throat. He pressed the towel to his thigh, but his arms were not strong enough the staunch the flow.

"Hero," Villain cried. As weak as it was, it sounded booming to Villain's desperate ears. Unless, it was his foggy mind playing tricks on him. Making it seemed like he could call Hero and she would come running. Heck, would he even start hallucinating that she was indeed here?

Villain finally was able to stop the blood flow. His trembling hands hovered over the hydrogen peroxide, but he decided against it. Pouring that over the wound would make it hurt. And hurt was not on Villain's wishlist.

He instead reached for a gauze pad and gingerly laid it over the gaping injury. His shaking fingers applied medical tape over the pad.

When he was done, he closed his eyes. His head limply hung over his chest. His lips turned up in a slight smile as exhaustion pulled him under like anesthesia.

Villain came to only a few minutes later- maybe ten, but to him, he felt like hours. He so desperately wanted to sink back into sleep when he remembered what happened. His mouth was oddly dry had an unpleasant taste in it.

"Hero," he whispered, lifting his head up only for it to flop forward again.

The gauze pad was now stained with blood, but Villain had neither the energy or the will to take care of it. His whole body ached, especially at his jaw. He moved it, testing it, but it creaked and fired up in agony. Broken.

Villain closed his eyes again. He tried not to, but his thoughts drifted to the long list of priorities he came up with. His finger was long gone and he wouldn't be able to care for his jaw. The bruises on his hip bones would fade as would the surface cuts on his face.

He could wrap his ribs up, but he wouldn't be able to get his arms around to his back.

His back.

He knew that he had glass and nails stuck in it. He knew that it would get badly infected within a couple days.

If he lived that long.

Villain shut his eyes close momentarily. He would live. He wouldn't give Supervillain or Hero the satisfaction of killing him.

Fueled by motivation, Villain shot to his feet. He immediately regretted it, however, when the world tilted and collapse in on itself. He blinked back the dizziness, gripping the counter like his life depended on it. In a strange way, it did.

Villain pushed himself towards the bathroom, sometimes having to lean against walls when a sudden wave of wooziness threatened to make him crumple. But he went on like a determined father in a snowstorm, trying to get home to his freezing wife and kids with firewood.

Villain finally reached the bathroom, triumphant, but he instantly fell onto the ground and threw up again. On his way down, he smacked his head against the tile floor.

A loud sob escaped his throat as he realized his dire situation. The previous energy faded into frustration and anger, but mostly exhaustion and loneliness. He pictured the thought of an injured Hero lying in a hospital bed.

She wouldn't be covered in sweat and vomit.

She wouldn't be lying on her bathroom floor.

She would be cared for.

Villain buried his head into the crook of his elbow, wiping snot and tears on it as he dived back into sleep.

Villain woke up on a couch. He didn't recall dragging himself onto it, but one glanced at the blood smeared floor confirmed that he indeed did.

His head felt like a hammer was hitting it. He groaned and brought a hand to his forehead. Almost instantly, he pulled backwards shocked.

His forehead waa sweaty and burning.

Villain looked at his thigh and saw it festered and puffy. He knew that his back was no better.

And now he had a fever. Fabulous.

Within the next two days, Villain tried to tend to ongoing fever with little luck. He contemplated wasting the energy to drag himself to a phone and call 911, but decided against it.

He also started hallucinating.

Apparitions of Hero and Supervillain's face danced across his hazy vision. The floor around him also turned to lava. Between these realistic (according to Villain) and the burning pain of a fever, he was in a hole of misery.

Once he even woke up on the floor of the bathroom, leaning against the bath tub. Tylenol pills were strewn all over the floor in a sloppy attempt to take a few. A thermometer also made its home by Villain's feet. The number still read 104.

He shouldn't be alive.

It was a miracle, really, but part of him wanted to die and leave this mess.

"Hero," he would sometimes cry out. He wanted her- needed her. He hurt, oh so bad, and was scared and alone.

In his short spans of consciousness, he would take in his surroundings the same way each time. Look around, look at leg, and then give in again.

He remained in the bathroom, but was now collapsed on the floor, unable to do more than lift his finger.

Hero wondered what happened to Villain after beating him up. Many times, she wanted to go see, but she also feared her sister, Supervillain.

Not that Hero did not take any pleasure in injuring Villain; it was quite satisfying in an extent, but her sister went extreme when she did not allow Villain any care.

So what brought Hero to Villain's doorstep that evening? She didn't know. All she knew was that the second no one answered the door, she had this need to barge in and find Villain.

And find him she did.

Only it was not the sight she was hoping for.

Villain was passed out of the bathroom floor, shivering like a dog with hypothermia. He was covered in sweat, blood, and vomit. Wounds that covered his exposed back were deeply infected with pus.

Hero did not hesitate. She ran to Villain and scooped his figure into her arms, guilty and mortified. She allowed this to happen.

"Hey," Hero tapped Villain's cheek. "Wake ul for me, will you?"

No response.

"Villain?" Hero asked, starting to rock. Villain's eyes fluttered and he looked up at the hero in fear.

"Wha-wha," Villain tried to speak, but his heavy tongue made it difficult. He decided to just snuggle into Hero, happy to not be lonely.

"I'm so sorry," Hero reached forward and grabbed the thermometer. Villain opened his mouth willingly, but whimpered when Hero stuck the point under his tongue.

It beeped. 104.

Hero stood up with Villain still hanging limply in her arms. She would fix this.

She promised.

#summer of whump #prompt 27 #villain whumpee #guilty hero #tw vomit #feverish whumpee #crying villain #all alone #reluctant caretaker #hero whumper #supervillain whumper #torture #writing #unconscious #hero x villain

[iero]

3 yrs ago my sister got the flu shot and I didn’t. She was sick for a week. I was sick for a whole month, double ear infection (NEVER had an ear infection b4) felt the worse!! I remember it so clearly bcuz I woke up January 1st puking my guts out (sorry tmi) and couldn’t keep anything down. Had headaches & fever & chills & felt so weak!! After that I always got my shot, every year. The vaccine is introducing the dead virus to your immune system so that if you catch the real virus it’ll kno what to do. I’m getting my 2nd dose of the Pfizer on Monday & I couldn’t b happier although I’m sure I’ll get symptoms. I’d rather b sick for a few days then get COVID and die or live with a deteriorated quality of life. Young heathy ppl with no previous health issues have had to have lung transplants! Their hearts are messed up! No thanks dude. Health is something so important. Sorry if I got ranty, I’ll get off my soapbox, feel better!

Oh yeah, I always get the flu shot every year because I cannot afford to get the flu. I know people who have gotten the flu and they were bedridden for at least a week, some up to a month themselves. Very sorry you got super sick like that Karen, but at least you know now to get the shot every year instead of having to go through being sick like that again.

Good luck and congratulations on your 2nd dose of the vaccine on Monday! I got the Moderna, but I've been told the list of potential side effects for Pfizer are just about the same. Make sure you have some water, have at least some food in your system and get plenty of rest if you do start to fall ill from your second shot. Right! I've been told that younger folks are more prone to side effects then older people, but I don't know if this is fact or not. I know I did get ill for a good almost 2 days, but I am feeling much better and I'd do again if it means being protected from this. It's okay! You're allowed to rant. Thank you so much and good luck/congrats again!

#answered #cherryrevenge

[greetjk]

Ironfam Whump/Angst Fic Recs

Here is a masterlist of some of my all-time favorite whump/angst Spider-Man fics! If anyone is looking for some good reads while in quarantine, here you go! Be sure to read the tags and warnings associated with each story, because many of them have potentially triggering or sensitive subject matter. Read safe!!

CHAPTERED FICS

A Parent Apparent by happyaspie (446k+, ongoing)  

Where Tony and Peter’s relationship grows into more of a father/son relationship after an accident involving Aunt May (who lives).

Identity Theft by KitCat992 (244k+)

It's been months since the events of Civil War, and the Avengers are doing their best to remain a team, having promised to forgive and forget. Unfortunately for them, Tony Stark's latest invention has been stolen and recovering it causes tension to reappear.

Meanwhile, in Queens, Peter Parker has two main priorities on his plate — complete his midterm finals, and track down a fishbowl wearing criminal that may or may not lead him right into the hands of the Avengers.

Somehow between all of this, Spider-man's identity is revealed to the Avengers, Steve and Tony's friendship may permanently be damaged due to continued hidden secrets, and Happy struggles to buy a youth-sized casket for Peter's funeral.

Things were a lot easier when they were fighting over Bucky Barnes.

The Third Option by Uncertainty_Principle (200k+) 

Ben and May divorced before Peter’s parents died, so when Ben is murdered Peter goes into foster care. It takes just a tiny taste of superpowers for Peter to decide he doesn’t want to put up with his horrible foster father anymore—the streets are infinitely more appealing. All he wants is to be Spider-Man anyway.

So he leaves.

Simple.

Simple, that is, until Iron Man needs Spider-Man’s help. Peter isn’t about to turn down an opportunity to fight alongside Tony Freaking Stark, but he also isn’t going to let his hero know that his recruit is a fifteen-year-old homeless dropout. So they strike a deal. Peter will help Tony. In return, the mask stays on.

And that’s when things get complicated.

ever in your favor by iron_spider (153k+)

Peter startles awake when someone shakes him.

“Sorry, honey,” May says. Peter blinks a couple times and she comes into focus, her hair pulled back from her face. She’s trying not to look a certain way, but he can see it in her eyes anyway. She clears her throat, keeps talking. “But it’s…” She glances away, wets her lips. “You gotta get ready.”

He remembers what day it is, and his heart beats like a drum at someone’s execution. But he tries to put on a mask, make it all seem normal. It’s everything but, despite the fact that he’s been dealing with reaping day since he was born, between himself, Ben and May. That fear that one of them could be taken away. Sent to surefire slaughter. But now Ben is gone, taken despite never having his name drawn from a bowl, and May’s finally safe. Now Peter’s name is in there alone. The last Parker sitting on the chopping block. He doesn’t know how to be. He doesn’t know what normal is, when the Hunger Games are looming on the horizon.

I Never Knew I was Broken by GotMyInkPen (111k+, ongoing) 

Peter Parker has been living in HYDRA ever since his parents died at age four. All he can remember are the lesson's HYDRA taught him and a series of words that strike fear into his heart. The only thing driving him forward are the memories of meeting his hero The Winter Soldier when he was seven and the goal to one day be as great an assassin as him.

At age sixteen Peter finds himself tangled in the lives of the Avengers and can't help but wonder if there's more to life than what he's been told.

Tony wants to help him, no matter what.

In the Home by aloneintherain (68k+)

The Avengers have been infected, turned violent and aggressive against their will. And Peter, the only one unaffected, is trapped inside the Tower with six feral teammates.

“Natasha,” Peter says cautiously, “what happened here? Steve attacked me, and if there was ever a sign that something was wrong, it’s having the embodiment of Truth, Justice, and the American Way throw you across the room—”

Natasha comes closer, her stride controlled. Nothing necessarily out of the ordinary, but there’s something in her face, in her eyes—

Natasha lunges across the space, and slams into Peter, hard.

Promotions Aren't Always A Good Thing by Svn_f1ower (67k+) 

"When Peter was almost thirteen, May met Carter."

"Not too many months after Carter moved in, May got a promotion at work."

When May gets a new boyfriend, Peter's okay. When Carter moves in, he can deal. When May gets a promotion so she works days and Carter works nights, Peter finds it harder to deal. When Carter starts abusing him, he begins to feel crushed by the weight of it all.

Archetype by Bean_reads_fanfic (57k+)

Tony knows something is up when the research of ex-Hydra agents gets recycled in an underground Oscorp lab… what he doesn’t expect is the boy in a hospital gown sticking to the ceiling; or, how said boy proceeds to imprint on him like a baby duckling (a poor decision on his part, really). Did he mention he wasn’t intending on bringing home a kid that day?

Filling the Gaps by ironfamjam (53k+)

Tony looked at him, bold and true and utterly sincere, “Kid, I’m on your side, no matter what.”

Like most good things, it started with an accident.

Well, kinda.

This is a story about how a snarky, emotionally stunted genius became more than a mentor and how a just-trying-to-figure-it-out, doing his best superkid became the son he never had. No matter how empty our hearts are, love can always fill the gaps.

There’s a hole in my head and my words are falling out by wolfpuppypiles (30k+)

Tony’s stomach clenched into a knot at the sudden cut off of Peters' voice because he hadn’t trailed off, no his word had been strangled before a groan and crash sounded from the other side of the door.

Steve jumped in fright at the crash and Tony’s stomach curled tighter at the heavy thump of something hitting the carpet. Something like Peter.

let’s kick it by CivilBores (28k+)

Tony and Peter’s relationship becomes strained after the events of Infinity War. When a mysterious alien gas infects Peter with a strange disease, they realize they need to pull themselves together or risk losing everything.

For Pete’s Sake! by KitCat992 (26k+)

Maybe he’d feel better if he closed his eyes, just for a second. It was too dark to see anything clearly anyway, and he’d be able to concentrate better without seeing how fast the ground was coming up to meet him.

A rush of wind sent goosebumps across his skin before two strong hands gripped his shoulders tightly, keeping him upright and from nose-diving straight into the alleyway cement.

Peter snapped his eyes open, blinking a couple times to clear his vision. Everything was blurry. Was that…?

“...ice cream man!?”

how can the body die? (you tell me, everything) by madasthesea (8k+)

Tony felt panic creep up his spine. Something was occurring to him, slowly percolating in the back of his mind.

“You said the stinger got you. Is Scorpion’s stinger venomous?”

“I don’t—” Peter cut off as he groaned, the muscles in his jaw tight. “I don’t know. He upgraded—he was faster. Bigger. I—I thought I could beat him.”

beam me up, mr. chewbacca by iron_spider (6k)

“It’s 4:58 in the morning,” Karen says. “Your morning alarm is set to ring at seven. By the time you make it home, you will not have much time to sleep. Less than an hour, and that’s only if you fall asleep immediately.” Peter hums to himself, blinking blearily. “I’ll go to sleep, it’s fine.” “And you have the Macbeth report due tomorrow,” Karen says. “Two thousand words, of which you have written...six.” “Oh shit,” Peter gasps, his heart jumping in his chest. “Okay, I’m not gonna sleep.” “This is the type of event that Mr. Stark has told me to inform him about,” Karen says. “Because he is aware you wouldn’t share this type of thing with him on your own.” “Do not do that,” Peter says, shooting another web and cascading through an alleyway. “For real. For real for real. It’s fine, I got it, he doesn’t need to know, okay? He’s busy, this is—Spidey business, I got this, I’ll tell him when it’s all over. All the details. Cross my heart.”

Poison Apple by whumphoarder (5k)

“I-I think something’s wrong with me.”

Ned gives a short laugh. “Pretty sure we established that when you puked in a corn maze. You’ve got like, food poisoning or something.”

Peter shakes his head. “No, not that.” He takes a few short breaths. “Chest feels weird. Kinda hard to breathe.”

ONE-SHOTS

On sleepless roads the sleepless go by frostysunflowers (10k+)

Peter and sleep have been avoiding each other lately. Enter Tony Stark, the man with many plans.

you heal my like the light of day by searchingforstars (9k)

Peter tries to hide a stab wound and an infection-fuelled fever is never any fun. Also, it turns out that Beck is still lurking in Peter's mind much more than anyone realised.

a numb road forward by WhimsicalEthonographies (5k)

The light is bright, painfully so, but Peter can’t jerk away, he can’t do anything because his body is being crushed by something heavy but not entirely unpleasant.

“Hey, there he is,” Mr. Stark’s face appears in front of him, blocking the white light, thank God, then May’s face is next to his, blurry and hazy but it’s them and that’s nice.

“Hi, baby,” May smiles but she looks sad. So does Mr. Stark.

Cyanide? In My Shawarma? by losingmymindtonight (4k+)

Pepper convinces Tony to bring Peter along on his first dinner with the Rogue Avengers since their pardoning.

Poor Tony had thought the whole thing was a recipe for disaster before someone decided to shove some cyanide in his food.

stop, don’t start by iron_spider (3k)

“Shit shit shit.” Tony severely underestimated this guy, if this is on him, because Tony has a backup plan for every backup plan in his suit, has protocols for every misstep, every frayed wire, every glitch, and yet here he is, someone else’s weapon.

The true horror of it doesn’t set in until Tony sees Spider-Man swing by—Tony raises his own hand, aims and locks on.

“No, no!” Tony yells, panicking. “No!”

He shoots a repulsor blast, and knocks Peter out of the air.

Something the Soul Needs by blondsak (3k)

As he races closer, Tony winces at the knowledge that Peter had to have already hit the pavement-- that he was too late. But when Tony finally gets around the last corner, he sees that no-- Peter didn’t hit the pavement. Instead, the scene that greets him is somehow inconceivably worse.

Rather than landing on the cement - which would have been bad enough - Peter had landed on a fence. An old, rusting, wrought iron spiked fence.

#whump #hurt/comfort #fic rec #spider-man fic rec #spider-man angst #peter parker fic rec #peter parker #tony stark #irondad

[glorious-kt]

Announcement

Good News!

I do not have Covid-19.

I also do not feel like puking up my lungs anymore.

Bad News!

I have a very severe sinus infection and I feel like shit.

Paranormal Domino will be on hold until next Wednesday! Hopefully I can get some writing done over the next few days so I can just edit and post on Wednesday.

I have a 100.1 fever today, a runny nose, and a stupid headache. I’m not sure how long until I break my fever, but once I do things should get easier.

#kaito speaks #covid 19 #sick

[rhodanum]

COVID-19 roller-coaster

Despite its personal nature, I'm making this entry public, since it may be of aid to others as well, in these circumstances. Particularly for people who might end up having highly atypical symptoms like I did.

Long story short, I've been scarce from most forms of social-media for over a month because I caught COVID-19 some time before my country instituted lockdown measures. I was in hospital from the start to the middle of April (roughly two weeks) and started showing symptoms as early as March 18 (runny nose, sneezing, that I ascribed to a common cold, since at that time they weren't considered something that could present in the case of COVID-19). It took me well over a week and a half of battling symptoms at home and calling four ambulances in that time-frame, always getting dismissed on account of my symptoms not matching up with the standards presentation (aside for the runny nose and sneezing, the vast majority of my symptoms have been gastrointestinal, neurological and renal in nature, not pulmonary) before I was finally tested (on April 1st) and admitted to hospital the following day, when the test came back positive.

My timeline of events has been the following (and I'm still currently symptomatic + showed one new COVID-specific symptom even after two negative tests and discharge from hospital):

March 18 - March 23 -- constantly runny nose, post-nasal drip, sneezing all the time, a light cough. Nothing too bothersome, I dismissed it as a seasonal cold. At this point I started burping heavily, out of nowhere, for seemingly no reason.

March 24 -- woke up with a terrible back-pain, roughly in the area of both kidneys. The pain lessened as the day went on. In the evening, I had my first very clear neurological symptom -- my eyesight filled with a sort of black static (like a TV without cable signal), to the point where I could no longer read letters, discern my own features in the mirror or tell how many fingers my father was holding up. Thinking I was having a stroke or hell knows what else, I called an ambulance. The static-like effect lasted around 20 minutes and was completely gone by the time an ambulance crew arrived. They checked my blood-pressure and it was high due to the panic (174/109), so they dismissed the static as a result of the high BP and gave me an ACE-inhibitor pill to lower it.

March 25 -- started feeling kind of grotty around lunch-time. At around five in the afternoon, I vomited up all of my lunch completely undigested. An hour later, the true wave arrived. I went to the toilet with explosive, orange-colored, watery diarrhea, massive urination (wasn't drinking more fluids than usual) and vomiting, all at the exact same time. I'm not joking in the slightest when I say that I had my head in the sink, to puke and my ass in the toilet, to pee and shit out orange water, all three at the same time. The puking subsided, but the diarrhea and the urination kept up and, for the next two hours, I went to the toilet to shit and pee every fifteen minutes. By this point I was getting dangerously dehydrated, so we called our GP. She, suspecting it might be Norovirus, told me that the diarrhea needs to be stopped ASAP and my father went to buy me the necessary medicine.

March 26 -- the diarrhea was relatively under control due to the medication, but I was still pissing buckets and having to constantly drink tea to stay hydrated, with how fast my kidneys were clearing fluids. The light cough that started on March 18 got a bit worse, but not by much. I had no appetite whatsoever and attempted to eat a little at lunch, but only ended up puking again. I was worried enough about the whole thing that I called an ambulance again. The doctors claimed it couldn't be COVID-19 (by this point I was reading reports of diarrhea as a common early symptom). He listened to my lungs and said they're clear. Then he gave me an anti-emetic shot in the bum (so I wouldn't keep throwing up) and tapped my kidneys a few times. When I flinched, he said it might be a urinary tract infection and prescribed me a list of medication, with the antibiotic Ciprofloxacin at the front of it (keep this one in mind, it's very relevant for what happened next). I didn't actually have any pain when I urinated and the urine itself wasn't dark, but rather almost as colorless as water. I was just peeing far too much and the area round my kidneys was tender.

March 27 -- woke up with a persistent cough early in the morning and a sensation of  tickling in the throat, which made the cough worse. This morphed into a  very specific kind of migraine, starting from the very back of the skull  and radiating to the front, to the point where the backs of my eyes  hurt terribly as well. Still peeing a ton and drinking tea and water to stay hydrated. General state of malaise, as if there was something terribly toxic in my body, leeching all the strength and vitality out of it. Started taking the UTI antibiotic (Ciprofloxacin). My eyelids were twitching involuntarily and I had an up-and-down sensation, with some parts of the day being slightly better (able to sit at my desk and watch an episode of a show) and others, just one or two hours later, making me feel so horrid that all I could do was lie motionless in bed. Still had no appetite and force myself to eat a bit of vegetable broth Dad made for me.

March 28 -- horrendous night between the 27th and the 28th. A sensation like a knot developed in my throat and got worse and worse. To the point where, at around three in the morning, I could no longer swallow my own saliva. I could still breathe perfectly fine, no shortness of breath of anything else like that, but the feeling was as if my esophagus went and swelled shut. I had to gather up a large quantity of saliva in my mouth, tip my head back and struggle for several dozen seconds, to be able to swallow. I very nearly choked when trying to take my medication in the morning, after a sleepless night. The inability to swallow subsided, but the sensation of a knot in the throat remained. Feeling of malaise and weakness grew worse. A sensation of brain-fog came on and I could no longer focus on anything. I attempted to read fic on my phone and just ended up reading the same chapter three dozen times, because my brain could no longer process the words. Difficulty speaking and articulating my thoughts. I could still think well enough, but translating said thoughts to words or writing was incredibly difficult. I spent a whole minute just trying to get the word 'insulin' out through my mouth. I knew it, I remembered it, I just couldn't transform it from a thought into a word without a great deal of effort.

March 29 -- another nightmarish night. Not due to problems swallowing, but inability to actually fall asleep. All attempts went the exact same way:

closed eyes and attempted to fall asleep

started hearing a loud, constant and almost nonsensical monologue in my head, in my own voice, often jumping from one language to the other (English, Romanian, Italian, etc all languages I knew). It's difficult for me to describe the contents now, since they barely made any sense, but they were almost everything from a recitation of a shopping list all the way to narratives that didn't make any sense ("and then, get this, the clock bashed his face in!")

started seeing images behind my eyelids, almost as nonsensical as the words -- parades of wild color, me falling through Salvador Dali-like landscapes, images shifting hundreds of times per minute

None of these were dreams, everything was happening while I was still awake and struggling to fall asleep. I'd close my eyes, struggle mightily to empty my head and go the fuck to sleep... and within seconds, the cavalcade of words and disjointed images would erupt again, with me having almost no control over it. After a few minutes I always found the strength to jerk up and open my eyes, which silenced the voice and ended the images... but then I'd have to try closing my eyes again and the circus would repeat again. This happened hundreds of times over the entire night, before I was finally able to fall asleep for a few hours, at six on the morning.

Woke up absolutely soaked in incredibly foul-smelling sweat. So much of it that my bedsheets were wet as well, not just my pajamas.Used what little strength I had to strip the bed, take a shower and change my pajamas. By lunch I was feeling the worst I'd ever felt, shaking convulsively without having any kind of fever and begging 112 (our emergency number) for help. Several friends were worried I might be going into some kind of shock. Our ambulance service was swamped and Dad used his connections to get a hazmat-equipped team to come home and test me for COVID-19. The hazmat team claimed, like the previous ambulance crew, that I couldn't have COVID-19 since I didn't have a fever and wasn't coughing my head off. I pressed to get taken to the hospital and tested, but between them berating me for taking the risk and Dad looking petrified at the idea of me going to a hospital (and getting exposed, at this time he was still convinced I just had a strange flu), I caved and remained home. They said I was probably having an anxiety attack and left.

March 30 -- yet another sleepless night with visual and auditory hallucinations whenever I attempted to fall asleep. Utterly desperate and frantic, I spent the night scouring the Internet for links between COVID-19 and other viral illnesses and hallucinations. In the end, while reading the prospects for all the pills I was taking, I found the culprit -- the goddamn Ciprofloxacin, the antibiotic for the presumed UTI (the area around my kidneys still kept hurting, but the urination continued to be painless, clear and frequent). Hallucinations and psychotic episodes were listed as one of its 'rare side-effects'. Not so rare in my case and other researchers are now taking a hard look at it and other antibiotics in its family, since the numbers of people who end up hallucinating while on the things is apparently larger than previously suspected.  

I immediately contacted my GP, who was shocked at what reaction my body ended up having to Cipro. Nevertheless, she immediately switched me over to another antibiotic we had in the house -- Augmentin, a more broad-spectrum one, but one I'd taken in the past for bacterial infections and responded well to. Urinating slightly less and able to eat a bit more, but the pain in the kidney area was getting worse.  

March 31 -- night hallucinations continued, but at a slightly reduced intensity, once off Cipro. Woke up completely covered in horrible-smelling sweat once again. Left arm numb and then painful, a reaction I was left with after a long bout of the monster-flu two years ago left me with peripheral nerve-damage due to the immune system going completely bonkers and attacking the nerves. This symptom appearing again made it clear that I was experiencing autoimmune issues once again, as a result of my immune system fighting against the SARS-CoV2 virus.

The pain in the kidney-area was growing worse and worse, even with the Augmentin treatment. By evening, I'd called a fourth ambulance in roughly seven days. The paramedics were even more dismissive than the last crew, said I just had some sand or maybe a small kidney-stone and to wait it out at home. They completely refused to take me to the hospital, claiming that I ran the risk of a COVID-19 infection over a small issue.

April 1 -- a slightly better night of sleep, the hallucinations reduced to 10% of their previous intensity, so clearly an effect of the Cipro. The brain-fog was still presence and further research pointed to it as a possible effect of COVID-19, rather than the antibiotic. Woke up drenched in sweat once again, with my cervical area hurting horribly, my kidneys in pain as well and my left arm numb once more. Completely furious and utterly fed-up, I said "fuck the ambulance service!" and begged Dad to take me to the nearest ER by car. By this point I was fearing for my kidneys and feeling so horrid that I was 100% willing to take the chance of COVID-19 infection, if I didn't have it, just to figure out what the bleeding fuck what happening to my body. He refused initially, fearing I would be infected, but was left with no choice in the matter when I threatened to walk to the hospital by myself if he wasn't willing to help.

At the ER closest to our apartment, a hazmat-equipped doctor working triage had me sit down and fill up a questionnaire of symptoms. Even without fever or difficulty breathing or persistent cough (my cough came only in the morning and lasted just a few minutes each day), everything else was enough to make him note "possible COVID-19" and give me a paper to present to our national institute of infectious diseases, so I could get tested. So Dad and me left the ER and drove to Matei Bals Institute, where the doctors were rather puzzled by me, coming in without a fever  and not coughing my lungs out. The chest x-ray turning out perfect (nothing in the lungs) only seemed to increase their skepticism, but they nevertheless tested me, before sending me home and telling me I'd receive the result in 24 hours. Their only recommendation was to talk to a nephrologist on the phone, re: the kidneys.

April 2 -- felt slightly better, though still under heavy malaise and the kidneys were more painful than ever. At about nine in the evening I got a phone call from our local public health authorities, who told me that my RT-PCR test for COVID-19 was positive. Honestly? Instead of being frightened, I was relieved. After almost two weeks of the strangest collection of symptoms I'd ever had, I finally had an explanation as to what on earth was causing them and was vindicated re: the four ambulance crews that dismissed me. The authorities sent an ambulance that picked me up, right along with Dad (quite unwillingly in his case, he only had some sniffles and a minor indigestion, despite having nursed me for well over a week). We got taken back to Matei Bals Institute, where Dad was tested and sent back home (since he didn't have much in the way of symptoms and they had no reason to keep him) and I was admitted into one of the wards. The time was roughly two in the morning.

April 3 -- barely slept due to the noise and light in the ward. Had blood drawn, for blood-work. Malaise as terrible as ever. Started treatment with HCQ (Plaquenil), the anti-malaria drug. The rest of my ward-mates were absolute sweethearts, but I was much too weak to do much other than get out of bed to trudge to the communal bathroom down the hall. Urination (which had slowly reduced in frequency from March 25) still a bit more frequent than usual. Begged the doctor for something to let me sleep and was given a few metallic-tasting, oily drops to drink in the evening. Had the first good night of sleep in well over a week.  

April 4 -- at this point, the kidney pain got so bad that I could barely walk to the bathroom and would grit my teeth in pain whenever I sat down in the bed. Asked one of the nurses for help, with no visible result. The pain was getting worse and I could no longer get out of bed, just lying there in a listless lump. Several of the other people in the beds next to me went to pound on the door separating the 'red zone' from the 'green zone' and demanded that the nurses or doctor see to me. In the end, a young nurse came and struggled for almost thirty minutes to get an IV in me. She was inexperienced and, coupled with having to wear three pairs of gloves and a visor on her face, she could barely see or feel my veins. The result was that she ended up blowing thee of my veins (two on the right hand, one on the left) before she finally managed to get the IV needle in and secured it. Then I got put on a heavy-duty regimen of IV Ceftriaxone (antibiotic), hydration fluids and painkillers, for the next few days.

April 5 - 7 -- slowly got better on the IV regimen. Gained a bit more strength, the pain in the kidney area subsided and I could walk again. Gave urine samples twice and they came back clean (no bacterial infection in the kidneys or urinary tract). On April 6 we were told that the whole lot of us (the seven of us crowded in that ward and everyone else in the same wing of the Institute) would be transferred the next day to Colentina Hospital, just a stone's throw away, which had been officially designated as a COVID-19 support unit. The reasoning was that we'd be placed in smaller wards and the Matei Bals Institute could focus on the critical and very difficult cases, that required everything from oxygen support to full intubation. My IV needle was removed on April 7 and we, dragging our luggage after us, walked from our wing at Matei Bals to the entrance to Colentina, just two hundred meters away. We were dispersed all over the Internal Medicine wing and I got lucky enough to be placed in a room with just two beds, sharing with a lovely 81 year-old lady, who was COVID-19 positive, but utterly asymptomatic. Got blood drawn again and also had an EKG done (no cardiac abnormalities). Also had another x-ray, lungs still entirely clear. Got tested for COVID-19 once again, but the result came back 'inconclusive' the next day. The treatment with Plaquenil was ceased and I received no further medication, save for what I requested to handle inconsistent stools.  

April 8 - 9 -- kept getting stronger and stronger, able to sit out of bed and walk for extensive periods of time. Bowels still somewhat disturbed and shifting between constipation and diarrhea and then back again,with the stool always being a bright, sun-yellow. Otherwise no pains or other malaise present. Got tested for COVID-19 once more on April 9.  

April 10 -- some of the first ever symptoms I had, in middle March (runny nose, sneezing, stomach constantly full of air and always burping) came back at this point, along with noticeable muscle soreness in my upper arms and shoulders, even though I'd never made any great physical effort. The test taken on April 9 came back 'negative', so the doctors ignored me when I told them that I was having old symptoms come in for an encore. Tested once again.

April 11 -- the burping and stomach-distention due to air grew worse. The 'knot in throat' symptom returned. The test from April 10 came back 'negative' as well and since I fulfilled the criteria of two negatives in 24 hours, I was discharged and had Dad come and pick me up. The Colentina doctors, completely inexperienced re: COVID-19, claimed that my gastro symptoms were likely caused by something else.

April 12 - 16 -- uncertain period, with the typical 'up and down' pattern making a return. One day I was feeling fine and had energy, the other way I was wiped out and could barely get out of bed. Frequent urination (once every twenty minutes) decided to make a return as well and I broke down in tears. Also got a brand-new symptom -- pink-eye straight out of nowhere, which has also been associated with COVID-19 infection.

April 17 -- worst day since the first ones in hospital. Completely exhausted and dealing with a horrible pain at the base of my skull, that was pulsing slowly, radiating down the spinal column and up into the skull. Doesn't respond to Paracetamol and I didn't want to risk taking Ibuprofen. Getting dehydrated due to the constant urination once more, so I started drinking water with electrolytes whenever I could. Fell down on my way to the bathroom, when a veil of darkness passed over my eyes for a few seconds. Everything was spinning and I felt as if I was disassociating and floating away from my own body. Felt better only after more water with electrolytes.

April 18 - 20 -- still felt crappy, but marginally better than on the 17th. Pumped myself full of vitamin C, vitamin D (have a long-standing deficiency there), magnesium and potassium from bananas, kale, spinach, probiotics from yogurt with live cultures in it, to re-balance my likely ravaged gut flora. My appetite, decent in the hospital and shot to pieces again on the 17th, was slowly making a comeback once more. Still burping and full of air no matter what I ate, still pissing frequently. One of the things with COVID-19 was that it made my GERD flare up about ten times worse than usual. Started treating it with a proton-pump inhibitor (Omez) which handled the extra acidity and the heartburn, but not the burping and trapped air. Kidney region started hurting again and at this point I didn't know if it even was the kidneys themselves (both urine samples and blood-work in the hospital showed no problem whatsoever with the kidney function, in spite of the weird symptoms) or just nerve-pain in the area of the kidneys.

April 21 - 23 -- slowly gained strength once more, able to get out of bed and work at my PC. Pain in the kidney region came and went, urination slowly started to reduce in frequency once again. Still drinking water with electrolytes, taking vitamins, eating as varied as I can.

April 24 -- best day so far today (hope I don't bloody jinx it). Energy levels almost back to my baseline, though still left with burping, constant air in stomach and general laziness in digestion. Stool of normal frequency, color and texture after the probiotic regimen. Left with lingering nerve-pain in the cervical area, the shoulders, the lower left ribs in the front and the lower back. Urination frequency reducing to more normal levels once again, feeling less like a constantly dehydrated prune.

It's been... almost five weeks since the first symptoms. A long and exhausting ride and I still don't know what might pop up again. But still far preferable to those poor souls who end up unable to breathe and in full-blown ARDS, needing to be sent straight into the ICU.

Why did I have another flare-up, after two negative tests? Your guess is as good as mine, right now. I have a few theories:

consistent with those articles coming out of South Korea, false negative results might be more widespread than we suspect, in some cases. Either because the virus might be able to hide in the central nervous system and pop back up again for another tangle with one's immunity or because the immune response can lower viral concentration in the body enough for a test to come back negative, without the virus actually being defeated for good.

the test results are correct, the virus is gone from my body and all of what I'm still dealing with are a the result of post-viral systemic inflammation. Not an unlikely thing, since I have a short history of dealing with autoimmune bullshit after that flu two years ago left me with enough nerve-damage that I was unable to walk for a whole month and took six months to recover fully + still wake up with the left side of the body temporarily numb and huge pain in the spinal column if I ever sleep on a shitty mattress, that doesn't offer decent back support.

I want to do more blood-work, see if markers for autoimmune activity show up, but unfortunately, that's pretty difficult to do now, with most hospitals up to their eyeballs in COVID-19 and private clinics charging an eye-watering price for such tests. Dad is almost broke until pay-day, due to how much money he spent in the last month on medicine for me, so it will have to wait or we'll figure something out if my situation worsens again and it becomes imperative to get treatment against autoimmune response. Taking this thing one day at a time.

An overview of my COVID-19 symptoms, good to keep an eye out for:

Gastrointestinal:

explosive, orange, foul-smelling diarrhea

excessive flatulence

vomiting

aggressive flare-up of GERD

excessive burping

swollen, painful stomach due to constantly trapped air

difficulty swallowing

feeling of knot stuck in throat

lack of appetite

Neurological:

temporarily failing vision due to static-like images over the eye's perception

twitching eyelids

nerve-pain in the cervical area

migraine starting at the back of the head and radiating to the backs of the eyes

nerve-pain in all sorts of odd places, coming and going (the left ankle, the left front rib, the right back rib, the kidney area)

dizziness

brain-fog and temporary difficulty with focusing / with coherent speech

Renal:

very frequent urination, though blood-work indicated no disfunctionality with the kidneys

Upper respiratory:

runny nose, post-nasal drip

sneezing

light cough, early in the morning, accompanied by a ticking in the throat sensation that set it off

Unsure how to categorize:

foul-smelling night-sweats, intense enough to soak through clothes and sheets

pink-eye

No shortness of breath, no fever, no lung involvement in my case. This is a virus that the human body responds to in ridiculously varied ways, from that cute little old lady at Colentina, who was totally asymptomatic, to me, where it manifested almost like bloody cholera (the violent diarrhea, vomiting and pissing at the same time, like something was trying to squeeze all of the water out of my body), to one of my ward-mates at Matei Bals, who had developed pneumonia and required moderate oxygen support and was well on the mend when we got dispersed, to the unfortunate souls who end up in ICU with ARDS.

Take care of yourselves, be vigilant and stay safe.

#rho rambles #covid #covid19

[maelaola]

Away and Under the Weather: Part 3

This is it. My final and, in my opinion, WORST illness-related experience abroad. It actually involves a few different illnesses and was spread out over at least a month. It was painful, exhausting, and just bizarre. Enjoy! #1 It started with the flu... It started with the flu. Nothing special, just the flu. When you live in another country AND work with children, you're going to get sick now and then. It was around this time of year (April) in 2007. I don't even remember how bad a flu it was. I probably had a fever, some body aches and a runny nose. That's usually what I get. I taught lessons through it (as usual) and it was over. I didn't need to go to the doctor until later. The flu ended but the crap in my lungs never really went away. After a week or two of wheezing and coughing, I went to get checked out. At the hospital, I was shown around by my own English-speaking nurse to see two specialists and got an x-ray of my lungs. It cost less than US$50. (I miss Korea.) I had acute bronchitis. The flu had slightly inflamed my bronchial tubes and there was a little infection. They gave me antibiotics, pain pills, something for the mucus, and anti-inflammatory medicine. Getting treated in Korea by western medicine is different than at home. Korean hospitals also treated people using eastern medicine and I took advantage of that more after this experience. Eastern medicine is about treating the delicate balance that exists in your body and allowing your body to function at its peak potential. Western medicine works more like a band aid. You're hurt here; fix here. Western medicine in Korea takes this metaphor even further. Sick? In pain? Appendages double in size? Okay! What can we do to patch you up and get you back to work? On top of that, we really do blindly trust doctors a lot. Which is fine for the complicated stuff. But in Korea, you barely even know what medicine you're taking. They give me the list but there's a lot on there and it's hard to tell the pills apart. They prepare all the pills for you and separate them by dose in these long strips of vacuum sealed plastic baggies. Swallow the cocktail and get back to work. No need to wait for the effects to kick in. I can tell you that I took my first baggie on a Wednesday night or Thursday morning. I remember that because by Friday I was calling the nurse and taking the only sick leave I ever took in 3 years in Korea. I felt a little off on Thursday. Not sick, just off. So it took me (and my head teacher/neighbor who was walking home with me) completely by surprise when I randomly puked on the street Thursday night. I barely made it to the storm drain let alone even thinking about trying to find a toilet. Living abroad, I've had my share of food poisonings so the idea that my body was rejecting something was not foreign to me. But there was no food. It was like a hangover without the bliss of being an idiot the night before. Since it wasn't food, I assumed pills and called the nurse. I stopped taking all of them since I didn't know which was which in my poison cocktail. I didn't feel any better the next day as I started to have stomach problems come out the other end. Great. And remember how I couldn't have sick days? That was especially true my first year when our numbers were already small and there were teachers fleeing the country in the middle of the night every other week. Fortunately, though, through some luck--and a lot of pity from my head teacher and principal who watched me try to teach my 4pm-7pm elementary class from a chair when I wasn't running to the bathroom--my head teacher had her second three-hour slot free and taught my 7pm-10pm middle school class. So I went home and proceeded to have my worst weekend ever. I was supposed to be at a wedding. Instead, every three hours (like clockwork!) I crawled the three feet from my bed to the bathroom and then tried crawl back, dragging what was left of my tattered stomach on the floor. Eventually that was too much and I brought a pillow and blanket into the bathroom to sleep on the floor in between sessions. I didn't leave the house until Sunday afternoon. I limped across the street to get some saltines and electrolytes with some hope that I would be better before Monday. And, surprisingly, I was. My stomach was convinced everything was out that it didn't like and it stopped trying to kill me. On Monday, I was exhausted, soar, and really cranky but I was mobile enough to go down the hill to my work. I settled in my chair to be a white-faced, native speaker in front of 15 Korean kids for 6 hours. The kids were extra nice and the next few days went fine. Although, it still amazes me that the kids never viewed this behavior as strange. I could not stand most of the time and could barely speak but I was still there. Even now in Hong Kong, I often teach while wearing a doctor's mask when I have a cough or runny nose, and I have some kids come to EVERY class in a mask. Sick? Wrap it, cover it up, take a pill. But do it at work. In this case though, the pills were the problem. I talked to my mom on Skype later and she told me that it was probably the anti-inflammatory medicine. She used to work for a doctor and patients often called and complained of stomach problems when the doctor prescribed anti-inflammatory medicine. So that was it. The weekend was more than enough to learn my lesson. The body is connected, beware of pills, listen to your mother, work somewhere with sick days, bla, bla, bla... Teacher, finishee?? Anio. I got better and started to regale my friends with gross stories of the worst weekend ever. Around midweek, I decided that I was better enough to not cancel my rafting trip for the coming weekend. It was rafting in Korea, after all, which is only slightly more intense than floating down a lazy-river. It was mostly an excuse to drink somewhere else and also to watch a traditional Korean mask performance. Rafting was scheduled for Sunday so we watched the mask dance on Saturday. It was in a very cool theatre-in-the-round, and--despite not understanding a word they were saying--it was really funny! There was an ajumma character which is always a riot and at one point a guy pretended to cut off the fake bull's penis. It was an outdoor theater, and it was really hot, so most people sat in the shaded section. About 30 of us came on the trip and showed up late so a few of us sat in the sun so we could watch from the front row. It was really bright when I first stared down at my feet so I just thought I was seeing things. They felt a little strange and warm, but so did the rest of me. And I was wearing larger flip-flops so I wasn't uncomfortable. I felt a little stupid but I turned to my friend and said it anyway, "Do my feet look bigger to you?" I'm not sure if she could see or if she was just a little worried about the question I just asked but we needed a closer look. We walked around the edge of the seating and went outside to where it was shaded and we could see better. And there they were: cankles. I grew cankles in an afternoon! There was a weird fluster next as three of my friends and I tried to figure out what to do for a case of instant-fat-feet. I lay down on the ground and elevated them, someone put a cold water bottle on them, but mostly we just poked them a lot as if we were suddenly going to able to diagnose the problem. I freaked out for a while as they seemed to get bigger in the heat. Fortunately, they grew to certain size and stopped. They didn't hurt and I could walk. I didn't go to a doctor because I was where I usually was when stuff like this happens: in a village in a foreign country. The play ended and after some shopping we all got on the buses to go back to the place we were staying. A few more people got to see my exciting new development. Most of the theories tossed around that day had to do with the bus going up and down the hills and something with altitude. I kept them elevated and took some allergy pills or something. I even went rafting the next day. (Seriously, easy rafting.) I just kept showing people my fat feet hoping someone could tell me what was happening to me. Monday I went to work, fat feet and all. I got a kick out of freaking out the kids with my cankles. (It actually freaked out the other teachers and staff more.) They were still there a week later when my parents arrived in Korea. I'm sure it was a great sight for my mother, who hadn't seen me in nine months. Because that's what you want to see when your oldest child is all alone for the first time and on the other side of the world. That she's becoming deformed. My dad made me sleep in his special airplane socks that are supposed to give you even circulation and they started to really go down. Mom cleaned my apartment which was not in an acceptable state (is it ever?). I took my first real vacation since I arrived in Korea and relaxed in Jeju-do. It took some time but they went back to normal and I was all better. Finally, we sat down together with the Internet and tried to figure out why my feet blew up. (Mom is an experienced hiker and didn't buy the 'altitude' theory.) And there, at the bottom of the list, on some medical website under possible causes for swollen feet it said, "...may be caused by anti-inflammatory medicine." So that was it. I got the flu which gave me bronchitis that led to the worst weekend of my life followed by one of the weirdest. The lesson for all this is very simple and not at all original: Stuff happens. I did what I was supposed to. I was sick so I went to the doctor. Usually that's the end. Take the pills, drink some liquids, all better. Only this time the pills poisoned me, my stomach tried to kill me, and my feet doubled in size. The good experience that came out of this was that the next time I was sick, I was really willing to try acupuncture and Korean traditional medicine. Also, I try not to suck down pills like candy. My feet are big enough already. Unfortunately, I know this is not the end. Despite Hong Kong being more western than Korea and having more resources than Buenos Aires, I know it will happen again. You get sick, you fall down; drink your fluids, pick yourself up. It's just different when you don't speak the language.

**********

Again, this is old content I wrote about nearly 10 years ago for another blog (http://laurabusan.blogspot.com/). It’s time I start writing again and bringing everything together.

#cultureshock korea teachingabroad funnyillness

[patrickkurtiskent]

I want to tell you all a story concerning viruses! Share this if you would like...

After seeing all the media reports and posts on social media that you are all sharing I would like to tell you a true story about a virus.

Cindy and I were missionaries in Weekes Saskatchewan about 10, 1/2 year ago. When we were there our boy’s contracted a virus of some sort and I (Kurtis) ended up contracting it from them. Days later I found some strength and staggered into the emergency at the hospital in Porcupine Plain. I had the H1N1 and didn’t know it till the test came back days later. They put me on temporary quarantine in the hospital and gave me tamiflu and wished me well. I returned home the same day.

Joke all you want about the Covid 19 virus but I personally take it very serious. During my H1N1 infection I had a very high fever, none stop sweating, puking, and diarrhea. But the worst of my infection was the uncontrollable coughing to the point that I had no breath left and felt like I was drowning. Each night I coughed up between 8 to 10 ounces of blood, filling a glass a night. From the profuse coughing the veins were rupturing in my lungs and I was choking on my own blood.

To my shame during my battle with H1N1 I actually cried out to God to take my life. I asked Him to take me home so that I wouldn’t have to live another day with this virus. 8 days later I walked out of my bedroom 22 pounds lighter with not an ounce of energy. 3 months later I stopped coughing. Are viruses real and something to prepare for? YES! Remember I actually asked God to take me home during my battle with the H1N1. If I were a senior or someone with lung and respiratory issues I know for a fact I wouldn’t of survived that virus.

Is God bigger than a virus? YES! Is Jesus on the throne? YES! Is He loving and caring and still good? YES!

Are we overreacting by taking precautionary measures? NO!

I would sooner prepare for something and have no regrets, than not prepare and have regrets.

What verses comfort my family in times like this? In times of trouble and unrest I often turn to Philippians 4:6-7. Read these verses...And be anxious for nothing.... Rest in Jesus Christ our Lord and our Saviour!

May God Bless you and your family at this time.

Pastor Kurtis!

#covid19 #covid19virus #coronavirus #sickness #virus #flu #h1n1 virus #h1n1 flu #covid19andh1n1 #H1N1story #truestory

[phoenix18990]

Set around Season 2, but no spoilers if you have watched that far. 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Stefan, Elena, and Jeremy walked into the Salvatore boarding house.

"Remind me again, why are we here?" Jeremy asked in boredom. He had never been a huge fan of Stefan and Damon, really any vampires besides Anna. 

Stefan sighed softly, reminding himself to have more patience. 

"You're both here to clean up Damon's latest escapade, before someone finds it. Or wanders into the house, which has happened, much to our annoyance." Stefan explained, gesturing to the broken/ overturned furniture and broken glass. 

"Really?! I didn't sign up to be on your brother's clean up duty." Jeremy snapped in agitation, not wanting to be here at all. 

Stefan sighed again. "Jeremy, please help me and Elena out." he asked calmly, not one to beg.

"Jer, please?" Elena pleaded, not wanting to clean up everything with just Stefan. If Jeremy stuck around, it would help keep them focused on the task at hand, instead of each other. 

"Fine, but you owe me!" Jer grouched, before disappearing in search of a broom. 

"Kitchen pantry," Stefan called after Jeremy, knowing what he was looking for on instinct. 

"Thanks." Jer grumbled, before mumbling under his breath. "Stupid vampires and their super hearing." 

Stefan chuckled softly, grabbing an overturned chair and setting it upright. 

"Where's Damon? Shouldn't he be the one cleaning up HIS mess?" Elena demanded, not at all thrilled, to be helping Damon with anything. 

"I believe he is upstairs, nursing a headache or something." Stefan said, with a shrug. He continued cleaning up the overturned furniture, while Elena and Jeremy worked on the glass. 

"Damon, get your butt down here, and clean up your own mess!" Elena yelled at the top of her lungs. 

"You don't have to yell." Damon whined, walking slowly down the stairs.

He was pale, even for a vampire. It was clear to all three, that there was something off about the 170 (ish) year old vampire. 

Elena looked up angrily, freezing when she saw his face. All her anger vanished, as she looked from Stefan to Damon and back. 

"Brother, are you alright?" Stefan asked, upon seeing Elena's worried face. 

"I'm fine, brother." Damon said, rolling his eyes, looking away quickly as he paled further. 

"Then you can help us clean." Elena said firmly, putting her hands on her hips haughtily. 

Stefan watched Damon closely, as the older brother bent down to pick up a broken cup, stopping to put a hand to his stomach.

Damon ran upstairs, at lightening speed, as he felt his stomach churn. He wasn't used to illness, since vampires don't get sick on a regular basis. In fact, unless a witch cursed them, vampires didn't get sick at all. 

"Where did he go now?" Elena griped in frustration. 

Stefan listened silently, frowning in concern as he heard Damon's stomach churning. 

"I think Damon might be sick." Stefan  said, concern evident in his eyes. 

"Wait, what?! I thought vampires don't get sick like conventional people." Jeremy said, in confusion, as he stopped sweeping up glass. 

Elena was too stunned to say anything, as she looked at the stairs in concern. 

"Its very rare, but its possible for someone to grind up vervain into a fine powder and mix it in our food. It will basically be impossible to pick up, but after a while, will give us food poisoning." Stefan explained thoughtfully, as he continued trying to listen for his brother's predicament. 

"Should I go check on him?" Elena whispered to Stefan, knowing Damon still probably heard her. 

"Sure, its less likely to get dangerous if its you." Stefan said, with a nod. 

Elena nodded slowly, walking upstairs to Damon's room. She stopped in the doorway, walking in apprehensively. She could see Damon laying on his bed, one arm over his eyes and the other over his stomach. 

"Why are you up here?" Damon demanded, his voice cracking as he spoke. 

Elena flinched, climbing gingerly onto his bed, to assess his condition. 

"Here to make sure you don't spontaneously waste away." Elena said barely above a whisper. 

Damon peeked at her, groaning softly as he recovered his eyes. 

"Headache? Nausea? Any other symptoms?" Elena asked softly, sighing under her breath. 

"Yes, yes, um... Dizziness and chills." Damon answered heavily, swallowing convulsively. 

Elena nodded her understanding, as she got off the bed carefully. She walked into his bathroom, grabbing the trash can and a bunch of dark-colored towels. She walked back to Damon's bed, laying the towels all over the bed and put the trash can beside him.

"The towels are in case you get sick, and can't grab the trash can... beside you." Elena explained gently, as she touched his forehead lightly. 

"Thank you, Elena." Damon said softly, leaning into her touch with a moan. 

"Is it possible for you to get a fever?" Elena asked curiously, noticing that he was slightly warmer than normal. 

"It is a definite possibility, given that the vervain in our stomachs causes an infection of sorts." Stefan said suddenly, causing Damon and Elena to jump. 

Damon groaned, coughing up some blood that dribbled down the corner of his mouth. 

Elena grabbed an extra towel off the bed, dabbing at the dripping blood. 

Stefan turned and left the room, catching Elena's eye in warning to how sick Damon felt. He could hear his brother's stomach flipping and churning painfully. 

Elena pulled a chair up to the bed, not wanting to be in the way of a speeding sick person. 

Damon curled on his side, facing away from Elena to try to keep his composure intact. He closed his eyes, as he suddenly hiccuped and lurched forward weakly. 

Blood poured from Damon's mouth, coating some of the towels on his bed. He whimpered softly, hacking and sputtering as more blood and some half-digested food came up onto the towels. 

"That's it, bring it all up." Elena encouraged, rubbing his back lightly. 

Damon grabbed her hand, clutching it tightly as he sat up quickly. He projectile vomited blood on to the towels on the end of his bed, inwardly relieved that she had thought ahead. 

He finally stopped choking up blood and sat, staring at the mess with wide eyes. He let go of Elena's hand, before looking at her shyly. 

"Thank you, Elena." Damon breathed out weakly. He leaned back against his headboard tiredly, knowing he should have cleaned up first. 

Elena shrugged, removing the dirty towels, putting them in the sink to soak, and recovered the bed with new towels. 

"Its no big deal. You should get some rest." she said gently, trying to hide her blush. 

"Can you come lay with me?" Damon asked weakly, for once he wasn't being sexual or inappropriate.

Elena sighed, turning to look at him. Instead of being angry, as per usual, she was shocked by weak and exhausted he actually looked. 

"Alright, but don't puke on me." Elena relented, climbing into bed with him. She made sure the towels still covered the bed... just in case. 

Damon curled up against her chest, nodding tiredly as he fell asleep. 

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There you have it, the first sickfic. If you want a sequel to this let me know. Or if you have any other requests, let me know!

#sickfic #vampiredaires #damon salvatore

[alatar-and-pallando]

A flu infodump

I’m currently fighting the flu (ugh!) and, as I’ve talked to my husband about it, I’ve realized that some of what I know about the flu isn’t common knowledge. (Perks of growing up around a bunch of physicians!) So, while I laze around drinking tea with honey and trying not to shiver my skin off, here’s a quick infodump of shit you should know about the flu. Sources under the readmore.

I’m going to cover what flu is, how it’s transmitted, how you can avoid it and how you can treat it. I’ll also give some info on how to get vaccinations and treatment at a reduced price.

What is it?

Info in this post applies only to influenza. People colloquially refer to many things as “the flu.” A stomach bug or bad cold might receive the label. But actually, influenza is a specific disease caused by the influenza virus. There are three species of flu virus: A, B (more severe) and C (less common and less severe), each with many variations (called serotypes). Remember the swine flu outbreak in 2009? That was H1N1, a serotype of Influenza A.

The flu is a respiratory disease that infects the nose, throat and lungs. The main symptoms include:

fever (not always present, but often high)

cough

sore throat

runny or stuffy nose

body aches

headache

chills

fatigue

If your *main* symptom is puking/the runs, you more likely have something like gastroenteritis. One of the keys to recognizing flu is the rapid onset of symptoms. Unlike a cold, which creeps up on you over the course of days, the flu typically comes on fast. I woke up yesterday morning with a bit of a headache and a scratchy throat; by evening I was laid out with a 102 degree (F) fever, aches, chills and general fatigue.

If you’re lucky, your symptoms may be mild and last only a few days. If you’re unlucky, they could last up to two weeks, involve complications like pneumonia, and even result in death. Yes, even if you’re young and healthy. It’s most dangerous to the very young, very old and immunocompromized. 

How do I get it?

As mentioned above, the flu virus takes up residence in your respiratory tract. It stands to reason, then, that it’s primarily passed through the air: an infected person coughs, sneezes or breathes nearby, and you inhale the particles. Or you smooch someone with flu. The virus can also live for one or two days on surfaces like doorknobs, light switches, etc.

People are capable of transmitting the virus about one day before symptoms show up and (typically) 3-7 days afterward. 

While you can catch the flu at any time of year, it’s most common from October to March.

How do I avoid it?

The single best way, according to every reliable source out there, is getting a flu shot. No, it’s not 100 percent effective -- the flu is constantly mutating. 

Each year, the World Health Organization tries to predict which strains are going to be most prevalent, and develops a vaccine accordingly. Some years they guess better than others; during the 2018-19 season, overall effectiveness is estimated at 61 percent so far. That means cutting your chance of getting the flu by more than half, which is pretty significant, as one study estimated 1 in 10 unvaccinated adults and 1 in 5 unvaccinated children get the flu each year.

Most insurance plans cover flu vaccinations (not mine, unfortunately) and many organizations offer free flu shots. Google “free flu shots near me” and see if anything comes up. If you can’t get one for free, check GoodRx for coupons; a flu shot is $24 at the Walmart near me with a coupon.

There’s a lot of fear-mongering about vaccines going on right now. While that isn’t the focus of this post, these two fact sheets from the CDC should help clear up your fears. What I will note is that the flu vaccine CANNOT give you the flu. None of them are made with live viruses. 

I’m a procrastinating idiot and forgot to get my vaccine this year; I’m paying the price, doing penance by writing this post and trying not to infect anyone else.

Research also indicates that even if you still catch the flu after getting vaccinated, your symptoms are likely to be less severe and less long-lasting.

You can also wash your hands (frequently!) and try to avoid large crowds.

What if I catch it?

The above info might have you freaked out about catching the flu. What many people (including my husband) apparently don’t know is if you DO catch the flu, you don’t have to just tough it out. There are treatments available!

The key here is recognizing your symptoms early. If you visit a doctor within 48 hours of developing symptoms, they can prescribe Tamiflu or another antiviral medication that should help you get over the flu much faster, with a lot less suffering.

Your primary care physician or a nearby urgent care clinic will be able to perform a flu test and evaluate your symptoms to provide a diagnosis. (Be nice and wear a face mask to the waiting room!) The test involves a quick swab of your nostrils or throat and then 10-15 minutes of waiting. Prices will vary depending on where you go and insurance/lack thereof; a little research brought back prices between $50 (at a Walmart Care Clinic) and $150 (whoof). 

However, according to the CDC, the flu test is likely to return false negatives (meaning, fail to properly diagnose flu’s presence), especially in adults. Your doctor may not insist on administering it, and may go ahead and prescribe Tamiflu even if it comes back negative. They may also prescribe Tamiflu to your household members as a preventative measure. 

If Tamiflu isn’t covered by your insurance, or you don’t have insurance, download the GoodRx app/visit the website immediately. It’s a free app that will find coupons for the pharmacies near you. Without GoodRx, Tamiflu would’ve cost me $153; with it, the five-day course cost $48.88 at Walmart Pharmacy.

According to the CDC, most people who catch flu experience mild symptoms and don’t really need antivirals. For me, the cost and trouble was worth it to avoid missing extra days of work and risking complications. It’s especially important to get on antivirals if you’re at risk for flu complications.

Here are some other things you can do:

Take doses of ibuprofen, acetaminophen or naproxen, which are over-the-counter pain relievers that will also reduce your cramps and fever.

Sip soothing drinks, like tea with honey. Just stay hydrated, in general!

Suck cough drops or try an over-the-counter cough suppressant.

Cuddle up to a heat pack or hot pad to calm aches and chills.

Rest, rest, rest.

Coughing keeping you awake? Prop up on an extra couple of pillows.

If you feel up to it, do some gentle yoga stretches to help with cramps and aches.

Make sure to eat; your body needs energy to fight the virus.

Wash your hands often, and cover your coughs and sneezes.

If at all possible, stay home for at least 3-4 days after your symptoms show up. I know America’s shitty labor practices make this impossible for some people. No judgment here. If you do have to go out, please be extra-careful about hand-washing!

With the help of Tamiflu and/or the above steps, most people can ride the flu out without issue. But if any of the following symptoms show up, head to the ER.

Difficulty breathing or shortness of breath

Persistent pain or pressure in the chest or abdomen

Persistent dizziness, confusion, inability to arouse

Seizures

Not urinating

Severe muscle pain

Severe weakness or unsteadiness

Fever or cough that improve but then return or worsen

Worsening of chronic medical conditions

Any other severe/concerning symptoms

Emergency symptoms are different in children; follow this link for more info.

SOURCES:

CDC: Key Facts About Influenza (Flu), Interim estimates of ... vaccine effectiveness, Vaccine safety concerns, Misconceptions about flu vaccines, What to do if you get sick

Wikipedia: Gastroenteritis, Influenza

Harvard: How long does the flu last?

Time: The flu killed a healthy 21-year-old man.

ScienceDirect: Estimating the annual attack rate...

Mayo Clinic: Influenza

Walmart: Testing prices

GoodRx

Yoga with Adriene: Yoga for when you’re sick

#flu #medical #medical reference #medicine #pro-vaccine #my posts #long post