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jsteneil · 6 years

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Dan is the closest of the Foxes to Palmetto, working in DC where the others have migrated North or East, with Kevin down in Texas as one sweaty exception. She visits more than the others, hopping in and out of her car on occasions, and always comes in the Foxhole court holding a large to-go cup from the campus’ coffee, looking radiant and focused.

Neil smiles more easily, these days, and he never fights the natural inclination of his mouth when he sees Dan and lets himself be hugged, maybe a bit tighter than someone who doesn’t answer to the name of Dan Wilds would.

“Rookie,” she calls, lobbing her paper cup in the garbage one day. Half of the freshmen turn their tired faces to her, dragging their feet after today’s hard practice.

Neil smiles. “Dan,” he greets, and waves his team away. Robin steals his car keys on her way out, clearly not eager to repeat the time she had to wait half an hour in the cold for Neil and Dan to finish talking.

Dan lifts an eyebrow. She knows Robin from last year, when Andrew, Aaron, and Nicky were still there to share a bedroom that now feels to big for two people, but she’s emboldened over the summer. Neil is quietly proud of her, like warming his hands to the residual heat of a slow-burning fire.

“I’ll run,” Neil says with a shrug. “I haven’t been jogging as I should lately.”

“Yeah,” Dan says, “maybe because there’s actual frost on the ground. Don’t be crazy, I’ll drive you back.”

“Okay,” Neil accepts, because he’s gotten better at acknowledging the casualness of the Foxes’ kindness. “Wanna get out of here?”

Dan’s hand flies to her chest.

“Who are you and what have you done with Neil Josten, local exy court vermin?”

“I don’t actually live here.”

“Then you can explain to me why I’ve found you sleeping on those damn couches more times than I can count,” a gruff voice says from behind them. “Get out of here.”

Wymack emerges from his office with his usual stack of papers and grumpy expression. Neil knows how much Dan means to him and how long they talked on the outer ring during the last half of practice, so he understands the way Dan laughs with her teeth and turns around to hold the door open.

“We’re having dinner at Abby’s tonight,” Dan says as they make their way to Dan’s rental car. “Wanna come?”

Tonight is the Foxes’ movie night. Neil quickly calculates pros and cons: Indian take-out in a room crowded with people he already spends too much time with everyday, or in Abby’s kitchen with some of the people who count the most in his life.

“Sure.”

He sends a message to Robin to tell her not to wait for him to start the movie, then closes the door of the car on the uncharacteristically cold winter.

“So how’s the team?” Neil asks at the same time Dan does, backing out of her parking space. They share a grin: Dan’s enthusiasm for the sport will never be on the same level as Kevin’s or Neil’s, but he likes more detached outlook she brings to the conversation nonetheless. Probably because exy means less to her than to him—although Neil’s had some difficulties wrapping his mind around this truth in the beginning—Dan is particularly soothing to talk to. Andrew suggested once that it may be because she refuses to make herself insane for something as inconsequential as exy, but Neil would rather bet that it was a thinly-veiled insult thrown to Kevin’s obsession.

“We’re getting into the season on a strong foot,” Dan says finally after Neil gestures for her to speak first. “The changes we’ve brought to the starting line are already showing results.”

“Drafting Perez was a risky move,” Neil says, because his interest in pro teams has considerably grown now that it’s a certainty of his future and not a dream sitting just out of his reach.

Dan’s smile grows sharper. To Neil, she’s still the young woman who led them all the way to finals in his freshman year.

“It was,” she agrees, “but it’s going to pay big time—we have a game with the Hawks next week, and I know where the odds are leaning.”

“I don’t bet,” Neil reminds her as they park in front of the Fox’s Paw, the campus coffee.

“Still? Neil, you have no respect for traditions.”

It’s true; mostly because he didn’t get to experience them before he met the Foxes. Dan keeps talking about the Eagles in the line to the counter, prompting questions in Neil’s mind that he never took into consideration before—it’s been three years, but it still feels weird that his captain ended on the other side of the plexiglass wall. Not wrong: Dan was made to mentor, but still.

Dan almost gets another coffee, then reconsiders and orders some kind of chocolate concoction that Andrew likes, provided they add cream and sugar in large quantity, because that’s Andrew’s favorite way to eat anything. A small stitch drills into his chest like he’s gulped too much air while running, like always when the realization comes that Andrew is miles away in a large city, and not smoking, up on the rooftop of their small world.

“So how’re you doing?” Dan asks, twirling the cream in her cup.

Neil hums in response. “I’m fine.”

“Uh huh. And without the bullshit?” She’s not fooled by his confused look. “Neil, I know how it is—”

He knows she does. In hindsight, he’s grateful for the reprieve she accorded him by talking so extensively about her team first.

“The first weeks are the worst,” Dan says, which Neil doesn’t believe because it’s already mid-November and Neil’s been feeling down since August, when Andrew moved to Boston for good.

Andrew flew down to Columbia two weekends ago, which means that Neil will fly north in ten days for Thanksgiving and spend the beginning of the week holed up in Andrew’s apartment with only each other, ice cream, alcohol, and cigarettes for company. The perspective brightens Neil’s immediate future, but it doesn’t relieve the constant ache of not having Andrew right next to him to exchange truths and stories with.

“Andrew came to our game against the Ravens two weeks ago,” Neil says instead of dwelling on the feeling.

“I saw on TV. The journalists had a field day.”

Neil nods slowly. He feels miserable, and he’s sure that Dan read it on every inch of his face. He longs briefly for the days when lying to the Foxes was as easy as breathing, when the reality of his feelings concerned him only.

“I find it easier to bear long distance if you talk about it,” Dan says finally, done with being subtle. “Nicky would agree.”

“You just want the gossip. How many bets?”

“There’s a consequential one on where you’ll spend Thanksgiving break. Renee says you’ll have a quiet week in Columbia, visit Bee. Nicky has quite a few bucks on you meeting in Boston and boning the entire time.” She winces. “Sorry, his words.”

Neil waves if it off. “I gathered.”

Dan huffs a laugh and drumrolls on the table, phone in hand. “Do I get to settle anything, or are you just going to send us a pic from Vietnam or something?”

“We wouldn’t fly anywhere this far,” Neil says, then relents: “Robin invited us to her parents’ for the day. I’m not sure Andrew will take her up on that offer, but we’ll see. We’ll spend the rest of the week in Boston, so I guess Nicky wins, for one.”

“Nicky only wins if you spend the whole time in bed,” Dan says delightfully as her fingers fly over her screen. “I don’t think I have to ask you how likely it is to happen.”

Neil snorts. “You’d think he’d have learned by now.”

“Renee’s happy you won’t be alone for the holidays,” Dan reads after her phone beeps a few times. “Allison is mad—she would’ve made three hundred bucks. Don’t look so pleased.”

“Don’t bet on my life.”

“Never gonna happen.”

They sip their drinks in silence for a while, basking in the warmth of the crowded coffee shop. Having Dan by his side in Palmetto is familiar, like the feeling of watching his shots land true. If Robin is his best friend, the quiet extension of himself, then Dan is his sister, warm, teasing, and proud.

“I miss him,” he admits, because he suddenly wants to. Andrew has always been a point of friction between them, but he can acknowledge the olive branch Dan has been offering him. He doesn’t mind taking it; the riverbanks are slippery enough as it is. “We talk a lot, but it’s not the same.”

They’re good at communication, because they can’t afford not to be, but most of their conversations are silent, exchanged through looks and actions. Neil knows Andrew enough by now to read his tone, what he leaves unsaid, but he misses the touches, the certainty of Andrew, there besides him.

Dan’s hand curls around her cup like she wants to grab for him but is restraining herself.

“Have you discussed the situation?”

“Of course. I thought long-distance was all about communication?”

“And Skype sex,” Dan adds with a grin curling her mouth.

Neil frowns. In a rare bout of sharing, he says: “Not likely.”

“Really.”

“I’m not discussing sex with you.” That’s a conversation for another day, possibly imaginary, definitely involving alcohol. Neil has managed to escape it so far by sticking close to Nicky, who, despite his own interest in the situation, is always prompt to deroute on his own sexual adventures and attract Aaron’s ire.

“Fine. Keep your gossip to yourself, ungrateful child.”

“I will.” He waits a beat then says: “He’s not happy there. He never says anything but I don’t think the team is right for him.”

“Problems with his teammates?”

Dan’s frown his sympathetic. Twice captain of her exy teams and now assistant coach, she knows exactly how much inside tensions can affect a player’s game—and their lives beyond.

“Whitney is outwardly homophobic and an asshole,” Neil says. Five years ago, he would never have thought he’d ever get so worked up about something not directly linked to his survival; five years ago, he also didn’t have Andrew Minyard in his life, to love and protect fiercely where Andrew himself doesn’t necessarily. “Andrew won’t stand for it forever.”

“You’re worried it’ll fall back on Andrew?”

Neil raises his hands in front of him, palms up. “Exy golden boy from an Ivy league college and three years of seniority. Andrew.” He tips his hands like scales. “You know what people are going to see, and you know that it won’t be the truth.”

“It might if someone can attest of Whitney’s slurs,” Dan says. “He doesn’t have a good reputation in the division. People talk. And I think Andrew knows better than pulling a knife under another coach than Wymack.”

“He doesn’t carry knives anymore. And that’s not the problem, is it?”

“No it’s not,” Dan sighs. “I’m sorry.”

She asks about the team to distract him after that, and it works—Neil will never miss a chance to talk exy, especially not when it’s his team, a responsibility he never thought he’d have. He remembers the sick feeling of fear and want when Wymack first told him about his future captaincy; some days, Neil can still feel it, curled tight in his stomach to make room for pride and affection, and all those other feelings that he’s learned along the way. He doesn’t need to ask Dan if it ever goes away. He’s not sure he wants it to.

They clear out their table a while later, when night has already fallen around the bright yellow streetlights, and head back to Dan’s car, jogging slightly to fight the cold. Neil leans his head on the window and staring outside past the fog of his breath on the glass, and only straightens when he sees the shape of Abby’s house, shadow pierced by large rectangles of light. Dan winds her arm over his shoulders when they get out the car and drags him to the door.

“We’re here!” she announces, opening the door left unlocked, as usual.

Neil sheds his coat and removes his shoes, padding in the kitchen to find Wymack and Abby prepping chicken around the table. A small pot is already simmering on the stove and filling the entire room with the smell of tomato and thyme. Abby gives them each a knife and different vegetables to peel; the celeri makes a cheerful crunching sound every time Neil lowers the blade.

“You’re a terrible cook,” Dan observes good-naturedly after Abby corrects him three times on how to best mince garlic. Neil doesn’t mind: he’s usually the first to admit that he doesn’t care all that much about cooking.

“I know,” he says, and thinks, Andrew prefers to do it anyway.

#aftg #all for the game #tfc #the foxhole court #neil josten #dan wilds #my writing #idk guys

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headquartersforlievmuses · 6 years

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► Sterling Archer

Sterling Malory Archer was born in Reggie's Bar in Tangiers, in northern Morocco, Africa, when his mother, Malory Archer, was birthed by Woodhouse. Woodhouse handed Malory a rattle made of sterling silver for the baby. Malory liked the name Sterling and decided to name him that. Woodhouse suggested that his middle name be "Reginald", after Captain Reginald Thistleton (a deceased friend of Woodhouse's that served in World War I, with whom Woodhouse may or may not have been infatuated), but Malory decided that Reginald sounded "too gay" and instead named him after herself. Malory offered Woodhouse the job of taking care of Archer. Woodhouse traded his bar for a boat, sailed Malory and Sterling to Lisbon, got Malory to an OSS safe house, sold the boat, and used the money to take Sterling back to the U.S.

Malory Archer, Sterling's mother, speculates that Sterling was conceived shortly before she participated in Operation Gladio. The list of Archer's possible fathers include Nikolai Jakov, Len Trexler, and Buddy Rich, as well as an unnamed young man who was gunned down in the streets of Italy and had "blue eyes, full lips, and thick wavy hair".

Sterling spent the first five years of his life being raised by Woodhouse and only seeing his mother a few times per year, such as on Christmas. This made him have an extremely negative view of his mother as a young child. It got to the point that when she came home he clung to Woodhouse and stated he had no mother and said he hated her even though she brought him several gifts when she returned.

When Archer was four years old, Archer's "father", John Fitzgerald Archer, was "killed" in action. Malory upheld this lie so far as to hold a military funeral for him.

At some point as a child, Malory moved without telling Archer's boarding school, leading to him to take a train home alone and eventually ending up in a police station. Malory had to pick him up and continues to view the situation as not her fault, stating that he could have picked up a phonebook.

Archer celebrated his sixth birthday while his mother assisted in overthrowing the government of Guatemala (in reality, the CIA overthrew Guatemala's government over June 18-27, 1954). Unbeknownst to Malory, the man who was Sterling's father visited him and gave him a stuffed toy alligator as a gift since at that time he loved them. This love would at some point become a chronic fear.

Archer lost his virginity at age 12 to his female Brazilian au pair, who was seemingly unaware of the American age of consent. At his tenth-grade sports banquet, Archer was caught having sex with his coach, Mrs Mupherd. Malory considers this to be the most embarrassing thing Archer has ever done. Archer states that she came onto him and so it was not his fault.

During his freshman year, Archer was given a swirly by Richard Stratton IV and Trent Whitney in a toilet that Whitney had pissed in. Archer spent five weeks in the hospital; he had aspirated water in his lungs and gotten pneumonia from it. This incident caused him to miss out on varsity lacrosse his freshman year at St. Joshua's Prep.

He spent up to 15 years at boarding school, despite American schooling taking 13 years. His hobby was lacrosse and flashbacks have indicated he had few to no friends. At age 18, he was regarded as the most recruited lacrosse player in America, although an incident with a crazed stalker gut-shooting him cost him both his lacrosse career and a possible scholarship to Johns Hopkins University (although it is implied this would not have happened anyway because of his poor SAT scores). A picture of Archer shows him graduating from Georgetown University, implying he is at least smart enough to receive a bachelor's degree in an unknown major (although according to his mother, he flunked out of college).

As a young adult, Archer idolized Burt Reynolds, often dressing up as him and continually watching his movies.

Upon growing up, Archer attempted to join the army, but failed. Instead, he began work as a spy at his mother's agency, ISIS, quickly climbing the ranks as their top spy thanks to both his genuine skill and his mother's preferential treatment. Archer has the less than masculine code name of "Duchess" (taken from his mother's beloved Afghan hound, though Malory denies this) and had an on-again, off-again relationship with fellow agent Lana Kane for several years, which makes their working environment tenuous and difficult.

Archer developed a genuine friendship with Lucas Troy (who unknowingly was in love with Archer) but they broke off their friendship when Troy quit to work for ODIN. Troy secretly raped Archer while on a mission to tap a Cuban embassy. This would not come to light until Luke's deathbed confession many years later. It is unknown if the rest of the group, apart from Lana and Cyril as they were present for the confession, is aware of this.

Archer is known for his "Elaborate voicemail hoax" as they often annoy everyone to a point that they stop calling him. His ringtone for everyone except Lana is "mulatto butts" where Lana's is "Danger Zone" by Kenny Loggins.

When we first see Sterling Archer, he is in the middle of a KGB torture exercise being run by Crenshaw. However, because of Crenshaw's lack of intimidation (and his constant changing of accents), Archer does not take it seriously. Malory angrily ends the exercise. When Crenshaw shocks Sterling's foot with the golf cart battery he is holding, Malory simply smiles.

Archer is extremely narcissistic, insensitive, sex-crazed, and self-absorbed. Also, he is constantly focused on himself and his own needs and desires. He arrogantly believes himself to understand any situation better than his colleagues, stubbornly refuses to admit when he is proven wrong. He will even go to extreme lengths to cover up his mistakes. He can also be very hypocritical. Any actions that will help others are almost constantly for his own benefit, even if puts his allies in danger. He is also sexist, racist, slightly misogynistic, and doesn't give much care for others. He is very superficial and materialistic to the point of amorality, refusing to go with anything less than the finest option available and regularly spends others money for completely unnecessary items. While initially coming off as suave, his true attitude soon shows itself, to which he is most commonly referred as a "gigantic gaping asshole". Sterling has a passion for alcoholic beverages even greater than his mother's, looking for every opportunity available to drink. A lot. He also has an obsession with shouting "phrasing" whenever a statement has any sexual double entandre. Despite his high opinion of himself, it is not without some basis, as he is in many ways an above-average person. He has been called an amazing human being by Lana, which is one of the reasons she chose him as the father of their child. All of which is due to his wide variety of skills.

He is very immature overall, never taking anything seriously until it personally angers him, arrogantly assuming that things will ultimately work his way and deludes himself into thinking he is unkillable. He constantly tries to justify his actions with absurd reasoning. He hates being told what to do, thus is obsessed with being a team-leader of any given group situation (unless the situation proves incriminating), immaturely calling dibs on it and/or of piloting any vehicle. He also has a tendency to piggyback on people's comments, saying "yeah (insert name)". He does insist on compensating anyone from whom he commandeers equipment or goods, although he often puts his own spin on what is an even trade. Despite often being considered foolish and/or and idiot, he is actually rather intelligent when not letting his ego get in the way. He has a vast and diverse knowledge of obscure facts, including at least capable efficiency in over 10 languages. He is also undeniably an intuitively good operative with an extremely high degree of personal bravery, never once having begged for his life or shown fear with a gun to his head. Although, he is not above trying to worm his way out of a no-win situation, even if means sacrificing his allies.

Archer frequently uses a red ping pong paddle during intercourse. His mother used to spank his bare bottom with a similar paddle. Some famous sadists, such as the Marquis de Sade and Aleister Crowley, were also severely beaten on their bare buttocks in their formative years, which some (including themselves) theorized as being influential in their later fetish for this behavior.

Though highly proficient with multiple types of guns, Archer's preferred firearm is the Walther PPK, which he has needlepoint accuracy with. He has an odd habit of carrying it everywhere he goes, even into a bath ("Jeu Monégasque") or a stuck elevator ("Vision Quest").

As of "Sitting", Archer has been shot 34 times, although technically 35 including being shot with a beanbag round.

His ringtone is usually "Mulatto Butts", but in "The Wind Cries Mary" he has personalized calls from Lana Kane to play "Danger Zone" by Kenny Loggins, a reference to his recurring joke on her that she is in the "Danger Zone" because of her obsession with him, as well as it being one of his favorite songs.

He is abusive to anyone of lower social status or rank than him (such as Woodhouse). This is probably taught by his mother, who is even more derisive than he is toward such people (except to Woodhouse, to whom she does show respect based on their prior history).

He was shown to have spent time in the United States Marine Corps.

He has $480,810 in his ISIS 401(k), though he was unaware of it.

Archer is rarely shown drinking non-alcoholic drinks. He has an incredibly strong tolerance to alcoholic intoxication rivalling that of Pam Poovey, managing to for the most part avoid hangovers altogether. This builds his liver to such a point that some drugs, such as tranquillizers, barely affect him, although not to the extent of his mother's ability. [16] This does not mean he is incapable of intoxication, however, as he has appeared deeply intoxicated and hung over on few occasions.

Archer had breast cancer that is currently in remission ("Stage Two", "Placebo Effect") due to his careless behaviour around radioactivity. He was also told that family history and a history of alcoholism were potential risk factors. Malory had been diagnosed with breast cancer as well (although this was later shown to be a false positive), and both of them show symptoms of alcoholism.

Archer has two tattoos, one on his right shoulder blade reading "Seamus," and one on his left shoulder blade reading "Dicky" which he got in "Stage Two" and have been seen in multiple episodes since.

Archer has developed minor tinnitus due to his fellow agents firing guns near his ears ("Movie Star"). As the show progresses, he continues to have guns fired next to the same ear and is exposed to multiple explosions which cause further damage to his eardrums and worsen his tinnitus ("Stage Two", "White Nights", "Heart of Archness: Part II").

He knows a lot about mixing drinks, and is somewhat of a snob about them, constantly criticizing bartenders. He is pretty good at mixing them himself and improvising drinks in odd situations, although at home he generally has Woodhouse make drinks for him. He usually has bloody marys for breakfast.

Verses

tba

#Archer #Archer [Sterling Archer]#Male Character #non mutuals #face claim: Matt Bomer

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dinafbrownil · 4 years

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Battling The Bullets From The Operating Room To The Community

Dr. Laurie Punch (center), a trauma surgeon at Barnes-Jewish Hospital, shows Melissa Woeppel (left) and Stan Schloesser how to apply a tourniquet during a Stop the Bleed class last month in St. Louis.(Whitney Curtis for KHN)

This story also ran on NPR. This story can be republished for free (details).

ST. LOUIS — Dr. Laurie Punch plunged her gloved hands into Sidney Taylor’s open chest in a hospital’s operating room here, pushing on his heart to make it pump again after a bullet had torn through his flesh, collarbone and lung. His pulse had faded to nothing. She needed to get his heart beating.

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She couldn’t let the bullet win.

Bullets are Punch’s enemy. They threaten everything the 44-year-old trauma surgeon cherishes: her patients’ lives, her community, even her family. So, just as she recalled doing two years ago with Taylor, Punch has made it her life’s mission to stem the bleeding and the damage bullets cause — and excise them if she can.

In the operating rooms at Barnes-Jewish Hospital, Punch treats gunshot victims, removing bullets that studies show can poison bodies with lead and fuel depression. And in her violence-racked community, she teaches people how to use tourniquets to stop bleeding, creating a legion of helpers while building trust between doctors and community members.

Punch feels a calling to St. Louis, a place with the nation’s highest murder rate among big cities, where at least a dozen children were shot to death this summer alone, including a 7-year-old boy playing in his backyard. Punch believes all she’s learned has prepared her for now, when gun violence kills an average of 100 Americans a day and mass shootings are so common that two this summer struck less than 24 hours apart.

To her, the battle is personal, in more ways than one.

Dr. Laurie Punch, a trauma surgeon at Barnes-Jewish Hospital in St. Louis, is adamant that violence is a true medical problem doctors must treat in both the operating room and the community.(Whitney Curtis for KHN)

Besides being a surgeon, she’s a multiracial single mom living in Ferguson, Mo., just over a mile from where Michael Brown Jr., a black teenager, was shot and killed by a white police officer five years ago.

She has a son the same age as the little boy killed in the backyard in August. And she said, “I hear the gunshots echoing through my 2-acre backyard all the time.”

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Stopping A Deadly Disease

In September, Punch brought her message to Washington, D.C., testifying before the House Ways and Means Oversight subcommittee on gun violence. Wearing a jacket and tie, she faced lawmakers to share the story of Shannon Hibler.

The 23-year-old was brought to Punch’s hospital last summer, shot seven times. While the nurses gave him blood, Punch said, she cut open his chest, trying to force life back into his body — to no avail.

“I watched his wife sink, as the floodwaters of vulnerability and risk came into her eyes, thinking about the life of her and her child and how they would live without him,” Punch told the assembled lawmakers. “I watched his father rage. And I heard his mother wail.”

Punch placed the black-and-yellow, blood-splattered Adidas sneakers she’d worn the day of the shooting on the table before her in the hearing room.

“I can’t wash these stains out,” she told lawmakers.

Dr. Laurie Punch testifies in September before the House Ways and Means Oversight subcommittee on gun violence, seated next to a pair of blood-spattered Adidas sneakers. She was wearing them the day she tried to save a 23-year-old who had been shot seven times.(Screengrab from House Ways and Means Oversight Subcommittee via YouTube)

The trauma surgeon was adamant: Violence is a true medical problem doctors must treat in both the operating room and the community. Until they do that, she said, violence victims will continue to be vectors who spread violence.

“The disease that bullets bring does not yet have a name,” she told Congress that day. “It’s like an infection, because it affects more than just the flesh it pierces. It infects the entire family, the entire community. Even our country.”

But healing also can be contagious — spreading among victims, families and the physicians themselves.

Punch, who regularly visits the neighborhoods where her patients live, attended an event last year for Saint Louis Story Stitchers, an artist and youth collective working to prevent gun violence. She remembers spotting a volunteer she knew — Antwan Pope, who’d been shot some years earlier but had found renewed purpose helping young people.

Punch told Pope about Hibler’s case, and learned Hibler was Pope’s cousin. Hibler’s dad was at the community event, too, and he handed Punch a lapel pin with his son’s picture.

She wore it on her white coat for months.

Two Worlds

Punch was born in Washington, D.C., the only child of a Trinidadian father and white Midwestern mother. They separated six months after her birth.

Until she was 7, Punch moved every year with her mom. They eventually settled with Punch’s grandmother in the tiny town of Wellsville, Ohio, a close-knit but segregated community.

Classmates bullied her for being different, Punch recalls.

“I was different in every way because I wasn’t black; I wasn’t white,” said Punch, who later came out as gay.

From the time Punch was 9, she took $2 piano lessons from Elizabeth Carter. The local music teacher had transformed former drug dens into places with music lessons, free clothes and meals, and put all the kids who sought her help to work. Punch’s assignment was serving food.

“You show someone that they can help,” Punch said, “it’s revolutionary.”

That lesson guided her life as a child and when Punch moved on to Yale University, the University of Connecticut’s medical school and then the University of Maryland Medical Center in Baltimore, where poverty and trauma scarred many of her patients’ lives.

Participants listen to Dr. Laurie Punch, a trauma surgeon at Barnes-Jewish Hospital, as she teaches a Stop the Bleed class last month in St. Louis. “It’s far more than teaching people what to do,” Punch says. “They learn: ‘I am not simply a victim or a perpetrator or an observer; I’m a helper. I have the capacity to help.’”(Whitney Curtis for KHN)

Punch spent her early career in the shock trauma center in Baltimore, throwing everything she had into saving others.

After marrying a woman she met as a medical intern, Punch became pregnant with twins at 35.

The next few years were marked by highs and lows in her personal life and the unrelenting stress of dealing with the aftermath of violence at work.

She miscarried at five months. No one could tell her why.

Five months later, she became pregnant again, this time giving birth to a healthy boy, Sollal Braxton Punch. But not long later, she and her wife separated. Now she found herself as a single parent as the pressures of her job mounted.

One morning, three shooting victims arrived at the trauma center, quickly followed by a car crash victim who was pregnant. Punch’s nanny texted her, saying Sollal had a fever of 102.3.

“I realized I can’t do this anymore,” Punch said. “I just can’t.”

The Call Of Community

So, she took a break from trauma for more than two years, focusing on general surgery at Houston Methodist Hospital in Texas.

But in 2015, a former colleague contacted her about a job as a trauma surgeon and educator at Washington University in St. Louis.

She feared going back to another troubled city. Michael Brown Jr. had been killed in Ferguson, Mo., a little more than a year earlier, triggering unrest and riots in that city just outside St. Louis.

Despite the area’s well-known history of violence, she flew to St. Louis for interviews, then rode around Ferguson with Dr. Isaiah Turnbull, an assistant professor. He pointed out the spot on Canfield Drive where Brown’s body had lain in the road for more than four hours.

“It was almost like seeing Ground Zero,” Punch said. “This is where it all went down. And it went down because of deep structural realities that caused the experience of black and brown people in north St. Louis to be fundamentally different. I went from not wanting to go to wanting to be right in the middle of it.”

And now she is.

Project manager Erica Jones (center) shows Tracy Russo (right) how to pack a wound during Dr. Laurie Punch’s Stop the Bleed class last month in St. Louis. The program helps educate the public on how to care for a gunshot victim immediately following the trauma.(Whitney Curtis for KHN)

Project manager Erica Jones demonstrates how to properly apply pressure to a wound. (Whitney Curtis for KHN)

On a recent hot summer evening, 20 people — some black, some white — gathered around Punch. A few feet away, a doctor, a trauma nurse and a medical student stood near tables stacked with “pool noodles,” the long foam cylinders kids play with in swimming pools — these happened to be about the width of a human arm.

Punch told the class that a person can bleed to death in a minute, but an ambulance can take 15 minutes to arrive.

“If you can stop the bleed, you can save a life,” she said. “Time is life and minutes matter.”

Participants practiced packing wounds by pressing gauze into holes in the pool noodles. They tightened tourniquets — first on the foam cylinders, then on each other.

Punch knows one of the doctors who created the “Stop the Bleed” training sessions after the mass shooting at Sandy Hook Elementary School in Connecticut. She realized the same training could save lives after street shootings, too.

Since March 2018, she and her team have trained more than 7,000 community members in the St. Louis metropolitan area. Many come to a rented space she dubbed “The T,” for trauma, tourniquet and time. But Punch’s team has also held classes in schools, a juvenile detention center and a firing range.

“It’s far more than teaching people what to do,” Punch said. “They learn: ‘I am not simply a victim or a perpetrator or an observer; I’m a helper. I have the capacity to help.’”

Dr. Laurie Punch (right) and project manager Erica Jones demonstrate how to apply a tourniquet during a Stop the Bleed class in St. Louis.(Whitney Curtis for KHN)

Contagious Healing

Two years ago, Sidney Taylor was shot outside his brother’s comedy club in north St. Louis County while trying to help a friend who was drunk. When Taylor arrived at Punch’s hospital, profuse bleeding had left his blood pressure dangerously low.

At one point, the father of four technically died on the operating table, but Punch and her team pulled him back.

After 10 days in intensive care, the longtime wrestling coach was still in physical and mental agony.

That’s the point when many patients slip back to their communities unhealed. But Taylor, now 47, showed up in Punch’s clinic a month after he had been shot, and they bonded during a 25-minute visit. Punch described to him how her team had removed part of his lung and inserted a breathing tube.

“Wow,” he told her. “I have another chance at life.”

Punch mulled a thought, then asked. “Would you ever want to share your story?”

Taylor agreed.

Punch recruited his hospital caregivers to create a video of their memories of saving him. When the taping finished, Taylor hugged each one.

Punch uses the video during talks, sometimes inviting Taylor to join her. Giving back to the community in that way has saved him a second time, he said.

After getting shot, “I could’ve basically turned to the dark side and done straight revenge,” Taylor said. “But I didn’t because of her.”

Stan Schloesser (center) practices using a tourniquet with assistance from project manager Erica Jones. (Whitney Curtis for KHN)

Tracy Russo (left) and Brittany Conners listen to trauma surgeon Dr. Laurie Punch as she teaches a Stop the Bleed class last month in St. Louis. (Whitney Curtis for KHN)

from Updates By Dina https://khn.org/news/battling-the-bullets-from-the-operating-room-to-the-community/

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kinkyuniversity-blog · 7 years

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Business Lessons from Oscar-Nominated Films and Performers

There’s a great quote in the 1991 movie Grand Canyon, when Steve Martin declares, “All of life’s riddles are answered in the movies.” Though the accuracy of this is debatable, there are many lessons that can be learned and inspiration gained from films.

Hollywood’s big night returns Sunday with the Academy Awards. Here’s a look at several nominated films and performers, and how their success stories can translate to small business owners.

La La Land (nominated for 14 Academy Awards)

Feel-good musicals are a bit of a rarity these days, but the Emma Stone-Ryan Gosling film has been the big winner of the awards season. There’s an exuberance to La La Land, which the The Business described as “a glorious feast for the eyes and the soul.” As Tasha Robinson notes, “Its complete lack of restraint, cynicism, or self-consciousness invites viewers to drop their own reservations and just feel the big, broad emotions as they’re played out on-screen, through memorable songs and elaborate fantasy sequences.”

Small business lesson: Enthusiasm for the business matters a great deal. Colleen DeBaise explores this for The Wall Street Journal, acknowledging that enthusiasm can be affected by the stress associated with a start-up phase.

“You will find yourself questioning whether you’ve made the right decision, especially when the hours are long and the initial profits (if any) are lean,” she writes. “As the business owner, you’re also chief salesperson for your company. Your enthusiasm for your product or service — whether it’s hand-knit sweaters or top-notch tax preparation — is often the difference that hooks customers, lands deals and attracts investors. It’s unwise to start down the path of entrepreneurship unless you’ve got a zeal that will get you through rough patches and keep you interested long after the initial enthusiasm has faded.”

Jeff Bridges (nominated for Hell or High Water)

The veteran actor has been turning heads since The Last Picture Show in 1970. But his later career work has been some of his most satisfying. Starting with his epic role as “The Dude” in 1998’s The Big Lebowski, and continuing through his Oscar nominated turn in The Contender and his Oscar win for Crazy Heart in 2010, Bridges seems at the top of his game all these years later.

Small business lesson: Entrepreneurs get better with age, as the headline to this Harvard Business Review story suggests. The story’s author, Whitney Johnson, uses research by psychologist Erik Erikson to illustrate how “as we grow older, hunger for meaning animates us, making us more alive.”

“His theory explains that each healthy human passes through eight stages of development from infancy to adulthood,” Johnson writes. “The seventh stage of development typically takes place between the ages 40-64 and centers around generativity, a period not of stagnation, but of productivity and creativity, including a strong commitment to mentoring and shoring up the next generation. Individuals in this developmental stage are supremely motivated to generate value, not just for themselves, but for others, asking the question: What can I do to make my life really count?”

Zootopia (nominated for best animated feature)

The Disney film chronicles the adventures of Judy, a bunny who wants to make the world a better place by growing up to be a police officer (an unlikely career choice in the bunny community). Her worried parents declare her goal to be impossible, even saying, “If you don’t try anything new, you’ll never fail.”

Small business lesson: Ignore bad advice — from pessimistic varmints and others — and follow your dreams. Those who ignore their dreams may live to regret it, and miss an opportunity for success and happiness. Alan Hall writes about this for Forbes.

“You should know there has never been a better time to follow your dream and turn it into a reality,” he explains. “Having a dream is the key. Sadly, I have seen scores of individuals who have had a terrific idea, a great concept, but for one reason or another were unable to follow their dream to start and grow a new enterprise — whatever the case, they never left the couch and the dream died, never to be followed. Over the years, great companies have been built by innovators who saw an opportunity and had an inspired thought on how they might meet customer needs.”

Denzel Washington (nominated for Fences, in acting and directing)

The two-time Oscar winner has long been one of Hollywood’s greatest talents. He’s also a powerful speaker, and there are numerous examples online. A speech he made to young performers is a particularly good one. “Dreams without goals remain dreams, just dreams, and ultimately fuel disappointment,” he said. “… Goals on the road to achievement cannot be achieved without discipline and consistency.”

Small business lesson: Clear goals are essential. The small business owner that doesn’t define specific goals can encounter trouble in establishing a path to success. Alyssa Gregory writes about this for The Balance.

“… Goal setting can play an important role in many different parts of your business, from starting a business, to marketing, to sales, to succession planning. Goals provide direction, motivation and a clear way to measure your forward-moving progress. Without goals, and a process for tracking your goals, you may have difficulty seeing the big picture and staying focused.”

Meryl Streep (nominated for Florence Foster Jenkins)

The acting great now has a whopping 20 Academy Award nominations. That easily outpaces the rest of the competition (Katharine Hepburn and Jack Nicholson received 12 nominations), and Streep has three Oscar wins as well. Streep spoke of her work ethic in a 2010 speech in Austin. “I’m not really a religious person, but I believe in the work that I’ve chosen. That’s my church,” she said in a story by Robert Faires in the Austin Chronicle. “I always try really hard to do stuff right. I make myself work. When I get lazy, I think: ‘You’re in church. Straighten up and fly right.’”

Small business lesson: Hard work is the cornerstone to any long-lasting career. Gautam Gupta examines this in a story for Entrepreneur: “Anyone can start a business but it’s infinitely harder to grow and sustain it. When a company faces challenges and falls on hard times (and it always does), it’s your passion and commitment that ultimately get the business through to the other side. If you don’t have a true passion for your business, everyone can sense it: your customers, team, advisors and investors.”

Moana (nominated for best animated feature)

The Disney hit features the titular character as a young leader on a quest. Many animated flicks could be described that way, but as this review by Sojo.net points out, Moana “stands out from the ranks of Disney princesses.”

“She’s a capable character, whose strength is supported by her family,” Abby Olcese writes. “The fact that she’s about to take over as her people’s chief is always a given — it’s never questioned, nor is she expected to find a husband to help her rule. As a future leader, Moana is required to be able to do all the things her subjects do, including farming, hunting, and fishing.”

Small business lesson: The boss that shows he or she is willing to get in the trenches and do the work that all employees do can earn respect. Here’s how Michel Koopman describes it for CEO.com: “If you want to direct an orchestra, you have to learn at least the basics of every kind of instrument. You can’t tell the string musicians how to make a sound you want if you don’t have a firm understanding of how they play their instruments. It’s the same in business. You need to know the ins and outs of each department so you can direct them. Understanding what makes a sales professional successful allows a business leader to better mentor those in sales who need help.”

#business #lessonfs #oscar #nominated #films #performers #actresses

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