#anaemic lance

[autisticlancemcclain]

“No.”

Lance groans loudly, forgoing smacking his face in his hands and going straight for banging his head repeatedly against the elevator doors, which Keith thinks is a touch dramatic. But regardless he crosses his arms over his chest and stubbornly refuses to budge from his position.

“Keith. For the love of God.”

“God is dead and I’m not climbing out of a goddamn ten thousand foot elevator hatch with you.”

Keith admittedly puts a tad too much emphasis on the ‘with you’ part of the sentence. It’s obvious in the way Lance stops and lifts his head up and glares at Keith so icily he doesn’t need to squint to make out Lance’s expression in the low emergency lights; his eyes practically burn a hole through Keith’s forehead. Keith winces but doesn’t say anything.

“You have gone toe to toe with a goddamn zombie dictator,” Lance grinds out, “but you’re too much of a pussy to climb an elevator shaft?”

Keith stiffens. “I’m not — shut up!”

Smirking, now, visibly delighted that he’s managed to press Keith’s buttons (God Keith wants to punch him), Lance leans against the elevator wall, hip cocked, feigning nonchalance.

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” he says, inspecting his nails like it doesn’t matter. “I just never would have thought that the best pilot out of the Garrison and literal pilot of the Red Lion is, you know, a chicken.”

Keith clenches his fists. Lance is frustrated and bored and pushing Keith’s buttons because there’s fuck else to do. He is. Keith knows this.

But he is so goddamn good at it.

“I’m not a fucking chicken, Cargo Pilot.”

‘Cargo Pilot’ is usually a hole-in-one insult that’s guaranteed to make Lance bristle, sure to make him bare his teeth and go bright red and generally lose his absolute shit. Keith is even sparing in his use of the term, careful not to let it lose its potency.

But because the universe hates him and also Lance is the most annoying motherfucker alive, his smirk only widens, and he flexes his fingers, still fucking casual, still not even bothering to look up in Keith’s direction.

I hate you, Keith thinks, with feeling.

“Sure,” Lance says, without. He shrugs. “Prove it.”

For a second Keith thinks he’s so mad that he might. But then he imagines it fully, pictures his bare back pressed against Lance’s, feet planted on the slippery castle walls, lights probably still out, struggling to put one foot in front of the other and drag each other upright. He thinks of how much effort that would take and how easily he would start to sweat, how easily every shift of their muscles would loosen the friction-borne grip between them, how easily his foot could slip. He thinks of how long a ten thousand foot drop would take, how long he would have to accept that he’s going to die before he splats on the pristine floor.

His stomach turns. His face goes green.

Lance’s jaw drops.

“Oh my God, you’re afraid of heights!”

“I am not!” Keith snaps, because he isn’t, he just has a fucking brain. “It’s just — it’s ten thousand fucking feet, Lance!”

“A pilot!” Lance screeches. “A pilot afraid of heights!”

“You are so goddamn extra!” Keith cries.

Lance makes more vague screeching noises. He gestures furiously at Keith, then pauses, then makes a sound in the back of his throat akin to a loudly dying whale, then gestures back at Keith, then at the ceiling, then at the elevator as a whole. Then he lets out one loud, long, final yell, completely wordless and directed at what Keith can only assume is the heavens, and stops, closes his eyes, breathes deeply, and very calmly crawls onto the floor, belly first, and lays perfectly flat with his face pressed to the tiles.

“I hate it here,” he says serenely. He pauses for a minute, thoughtful. “Also, I hate you.”

“Ditto,” Keith mutters, finally giving up and joining him on the floor. He tips his head back until it thumps on the elevator wall and sighs, loud and long, wondering vaguely if this is punishment for the hundreds of times he mocked Shiro for his fear of squirrels. He truly thinks it might be.

All he wanted was twenty goddamn minutes in the pool. That’s all. He’d have even taken ten. He just wanted to swim a few laps, maybe float for a bit, and pretend he was in a lake somewhere without pressing problems such as saving the universe and the fate of every single soul in it.

Eight minutes, really. Seven.

The lights flicker back on. Lance lifts his head, hopeful, then stretches out one ridiculously long leg (seriously what is the deal with that he’s basically a giraffe, it’s too much, Keith should talk to someone about it because since when were legs allowed to be that — long and shapely, or whatever, it’s weird) and presses the closest button with his toe.

It does nothing. Lance stares at it for a few minutes, as if attempting to bring the elevator alive by manifestation alone, but no life is forthcoming. Lance huffs sadly and returns his face to the floor.

“That’s really disgusting,” Keith says, although he has his fair share of Floor Time. “People walk on this floor all the time.”

Lance doesn’t bother looking up, groaning loudly for several minutes before simply rolling away to the opposite side of the elevator.

“Shut up,” he says finally, after so long Keith almost forgets his original comment. “You just —”

Abruptly he straightens up, pulling the towel off his neck and crawling forward to place it in the middle of the elevator. Keith rolls his eyes so hard it actually hurts, a little.

“You and your commentary stay on the loser stinky mullet half of the elevator,” Lance says. “The pretty half that’s not infected with your rancid vibes belongs to me.”

“Were you trained to be this annoying?” Keith ponders, half out of genuine curiosity. “Like, do you do this on purpose?”

“Ignoring you now,” Lance says primly.

Keith scowls. He’s not — Keith isn’t the one who’s too irritating to be around without going insane.

“I’m ignoring you, asshole.”

Lance doesn’t respond. Keith closes one eye and holds up his thumb and forefinger to the approximate shape of Lance’s face, pretending he’s squishing his head. It brings him great peace.

After a while, though, he starts to get restless. His legs starts bouncing, up and down so fast it’s blurry, and then his fingers start to tap, but the feeling of rustling under his skin only gets worse, spinning faster and faster and coil tightening more and more in his stomach until he just — implodes, really, until his brain goes boom and says if you don’t get moving right this second, and Keith says in response to it, believe me I’m on it. He’s scrambling to his feet before he has the conscious thought to do so, hands moving before he tells them to and pushing him upright, bare feet padding rapidly on the floor as he paces, three steps until he hits the wall then pivot then three steps then pivot then three steps again. Over and over and over. His fingers stop tapping but his shoulders get twitchy; itchy under his skin and on it, sweaty because there’s no airflow and this goddamn elevator is sweltering. Or he’s just hot. He usually runs hot. He’s not sure and he doesn’t care to know, because the pool would have been refreshing but instead he’s stuck in a ten by ten by ten cube stuck somewhere on a ten thousand foot tube and to his right his rival-slash-teammate keeps huffing and rubbing his hands on his arms and muttering to himself.

“Could you maybe cut that out,” Keith snaps, which is entirely unfair because his pacing isn’t quiet, but Keith is three seconds away from attempting to climb the walls and it’s Lance, anyway, when are they not arguing, so it doesn’t matter.

Maybe when you’re having a crisis-brought bonding moment, says a voice in his brain. Stuck elevators are kind of a crisis.

Shut up or I’m going to give myself a concussion, Keith responds to it.

“Not my fault it’s goddamn freezing in here,” Lance snaps.

Keith pauses. He looks down at Lance. He frowns.

“Your lips are blue,” he observes, bewildered.

“Eat shit,” Lance responds, predictably. He’s fucking — he’s shivering.

Keith is made astutely aware of the cooling sweat on his back and grimaces.

“Lance,” he says slowly, “it is not cold in here.”

Lance blows out a breath like the goddamn weight of the world is on his shoulders. He flicks his eyes up to meet Keith’s, who is standing behind his head and leaning down, and somehow manages to seem like the more put-together person between them, which is bonkers.

“I’m anaemic, stupid.”

Keith blinks. Suddenly the air feels very solemn, and he shifts uncomfortably, unsure of what to say.

“I didn’t know you had an eating disorder,” he manages eventually.

Lance’s faces scrunches up in confusion for seven whole seconds before it clears, and he looks at Keith like he is the dumbest man alive and then bursts out laughing.

“That’s — anorexic, you idiot! I don’t have enough blood!”

“Oh,” Keith says, face heating. He scowls as Lance continues to laugh way harder than what was called for, clutching his stomach with tears rolling down his face. He pokes Lance aggressively with his toe, and by that he means his kicks him. “Will you stop — it’s not that funny, dickhead!”

“It really is,” Lance wheezes.

Keith scowls harder. His face is as red as his shorts and the flush is starting to spread down his chest and Lance notices and it only makes him laugh more, because he’s a shithead of the worst kind. “I hope you choke.”

Keith flicks his towel over his head and yanks, embarrassed, stomping to the other side of the elevator as if that will somehow make Lance shut up faster. It doesn’t, obviously, and he hears Lance laugh for several minutes until he finally winds down to giggling, then eventually nothing.

Keith harrumphs quietly to himself. He resolves to sticking in his corner like he should have from the very beginning, until the elevator starts moving again or someone on the team comes to save them. At this point he’s so done he wouldn’t even care if it was Shiro, wouldn’t even care if Shiro gloated about it for eternity (Keith saved his ass from government experimentation, anyway, so he wins by default for the rest of time). He faces his corner and pulls his knees to his chest and starts picking at a loose thread in the seam of his shorts to amuse himself.

Several minutes later, he hears Lance shifting. He ignores it. He pulls at the thread until it comes loose, then busies himself with tying the thread into the most complicated and random knot he can.

A few more minutes later, and there’s the sound of fabric rustling and draping, then quiet cursing. Keith untangles and retangles his knot for the fourth time.

After what must be a half hour, Keith hears the sound of teeth chattering.

He sighs. He looks forlornly at his knot.

“I could just ignore him,” he mutters to himself. “He probably won’t die.”

He thinks of how short Lance’s shorts are. He pinches his own towel in his fingertips, so thin he can practically feel his fingerprints. He remembers blue lips and a clenched jaw and raised gooseflesh.

He sighs loudly, more of a groan, and flicks his ball of thread away.

It takes Lance a few seconds to respond to Keith looming over him, which is worrying. But eventually he cracks open one brown eye and flares up at Keith.

“What,” he mutters. His teeth are chattering so bad it sounds like two words.

“You’re freezing,” Keith says. His voice is softer than he expected it to be.

Lance huffs, closing his eye again and curling further into himself. “No shit.”

Keith frowns. “I’m not.”

“Well, rub it in, why dontcha.”

Keith frowns. “You’re not understanding.”

Lance ignores him. Keith has a sudden and vivid memory of the year Shiro and Adam drove him up to Seattle in the winter so he could be more cultured, or whatever (or less of a desert menace, Adam had argued, and perhaps more inclined to stop biting people), and spent the whole car ride lecturing him about hypothermia.

“It doesn’t take very long to set in,” Shiro had said.

“And once you have it you need to warm up or your heart can stop,” Adam had finished, very serious.

Suddenly Keith starts to feel very panicked.

Lukewarm tea, warm blankets, skin to skin contact with someone who’s warm, were Shiro’s instructions. And then possibly hospital.

Well. Keith has one of those things.

Before he can talk himself out of it, he wraps a gentle hand around Lance’s shoulder, tugging him upright, then pulls him forward so his cradled hands are pressed against Keith’s chest and his head is tucked into the junction of Keith’s neck.

Worryingly, it takes Lance almost thirty seconds to start complaining.

“You smell like mullet,” he whines. But he doesn’t move away. In fact, he burrows closer.

Keith swallows down his worry. “Mullets don’t smell like anything, dumbass.” He brings his hands up to press against Lance’s back. Lance groans, curling deeper into Keith’s hold. His nose is icy and burns a trail across Keith’s shoulder, down his collarbone. Keith’s flush from earlier makes an enthusiastic return, because nothing good still exists in the world.

“I still think you’re annoying,” Lance mumbles. Every move of his lip brushes against Keith’s skin.

“Shut up and focus on not freezing to death,” Keith snaps.

Lance snorts. “I’m not gonna freeze to death, doofus. It’s just a dead elevator. Once I fell asleep on the Garrison rooftop in January and only had to spend three days in urgent care, so basically I can withstand anything.”

Keith pauses. He tries to reconcile the Lance who just said that to the Lance who came up with a life saving plan in thirty seconds on the Balmera to the Lance who threatened to stick Keith in a wormhole to the Lance who smiled and said they made a good team before passing out in Keith’s arms.

“You are a very confusing person,” he says when all the reconciling does absolutely nothing.

“Thank you,” Lance says, sounding pleased.

Keith snorts and tightens his hold. Lance sighs and sags a little. Slowly his fingers stop feeling so much like ice blocks, and his breathing doesn’t sound so erratic. Keith doesn’t know how long it’s been. He stopped trying to count somewhere between when Lance’s cheek squished against his chest and his fingers started tracing featherlight patterns across his skin.

Lance yawns. Keith tries to fight his but ends up yawning anyway.

“Is it bad to let a person with hypothermia sleep?” he mumbles, half-slurring his words.

Lance hums. “‘M not hypothermic.”

“Dunno. Could be.”

He sighs again, a puff of air against Keith’s neck, and spreads his palms against Keith’s chest, flat. “‘M not. You’re too warm.” He pauses. “Freak.”

His tone is fond. The corners of Keith’s lips quirk up. “Weirdo.”

“Mhm.”

He falls asleep trying to count Lance’s breaths. It’s — groundbreaking, somehow.

———

(“Oh, my God.”

Keith cracks open bleary eyes, lifting a hand to rub his face. Lance groans from his place on Keith’s chest — in a puddle of drool, why is that not nearly as revolting as it should be — and snatches Keith’s wrist way faster than he should be able to as groggy as he is, placing it back around his waist.

“Oh, my God,” the voice repeats, gleeful.

“Shut up, Shiro,” Keith mutters. “Fuck.”

It takes him a minute.

His eyes fly open at the same time as Lance’s, and they look at each other, and then Keith is being shoved and kicked at the same time somehow and Lance is scrambling backwards at the speed of light, screeching. A loud bang makes Keith look over and he discovers his brother, who is dead to him, collapsed on the floor, laughing so loud Zarkon can probably hear him.

“What — Shiro — go — stop fucking laughing, you piece of shit!”

Lance continues to screech. Keith whips a towel at him.

“You gay pining loser!” Shiro shrieks. “I’m going to tell literally everyone!”

Keith puts his head in his hands and wishes he’d fallen down the goddamn elevator shaft.)

#hehehe 😈😈 #vld #voltron #lance #lance mcclain #keith #keith kogane #klance #pining keith #adhd keith #keith has adhd #brown eyed lance #anaemic lance #which is so goddamn funny to me #elevator scene #broganes #enemies to lovers #banter #lance is a shithead #i love him so bad #my writing #longpost

[soulreapin]

something something one pillow 9204592239 blankets lance

keith has 3029303029392 pillows one blanket

the galra run hot so obviously so does keith but hes got so many pillows because he SHRIMPS keith has such bad posture shiro is so ashamed

lance runs cold because hes anaemic and any more than one pillow will “give him acne”

so whenever they sleep in the same bed each of them have like. Designated closet space for extra blankets and/or pillows so they can sleep at night without killing each other

#keith kogane #vld #keith voltron #vld keith #voltron #lance mcclain #vld headcanons #headcanon #klance #vld lance #blanket #soulhcs

[ljfoxie]

Loretta looked at my neck, the same way Lance did a while before, she frowned. “You let her have a taste huh?” She shook her head and tutted.

“Well, I was...she was hungry and...why?”

“Feeding off of a human and letting them live is a very intimate thing! Most vampires eat and kill, if they just have a little taste and you survive, that’s a very sacred thing indeed!”

“I...we talked about her turning me...”

“WHAT???” Lance interrupted me and almost perforated my ear drum.

“You boys live complicated lives, I dunno if I want involved in...whatever this is!” Lance quickly forgot about arguing with me and put on his best puppy face.

“No, please! We really need your help! Do you have the cure or not?” Loretta sighed, she didn’t seem to want to help us, maybe this was all bullshit, there probably was no cure.

“Come on Lance, it’s obvious she doesn’t, this was all a waste of time!”

Before we could leave, I was overcome with another bout of coughing, I really did feel like death warmed up! “Bro?”

“I’m fine I...just need to go home and rest!”

“No pretty boy, what you need is an undertaker if you keep letting your little vampire sweetie feed off of you! You’re very anaemic!” This seemed to amuse her, she wasn’t concerned for me in the slightest! “You two really need to study vampire lore, you’ve gone into this whole thing blindly and now...well it’s tragic so it is!”

“Then teach us!” Lance demanded impatiently, “If we’re so dumb then enlighten us! My brother loves Hallie! He’s loved her since they were kids! There’s this creep of a guy, Grayson Chambers, he’s the one who turned Hallie but she and Shawn are soulmates, they love each other! Please Loretta, help us!”

Loretta let out a deep, defeated sigh and smiled, “Alright boys, I’ll make your cure and I’ll even give you a couple of tomes to get acquainted with the world of vampires! But I’m gonna need something for the potion, only pretty little Shawn can get it for me, I need...the blood of the vampire you want to cure! Can you do that for me cutie?” It was going to be hard, Hallie barely sat still for two seconds, but I was willing to try...for this cure!

<Previous_Next>

#TheTartosaVampire #ts4 #sims 4 #the sims 4

[chops911]

Heavy Pettin’

Heavy Pettin' first stirred into action when vocalist Hamie, guitarists Gordon Bonnar and Punky Mendoza, drummer Gary Moat and bassist Brian Waugh first burst out of Glasgow in 1981. They were vibrant, priapic, anthemic and focused. As they showed on a three-track demo, and on the subsequent debut single for independent label Neat (‘Roll The Dice’/’Love Xs Love’), they were more than mere Def Leppard slaves. In fact, the Pettin’ had an international sound that owed something to AC/DC, UFO, Thin Lizzy and Foreigner, but also had its own raging momentum.

Not that the band found the road straightforward. But, thanks to a work ethic that took them around the country, plus a valuable session for Radio 1’s prestigious ‘Friday Rock Show’, the band eventually landed a crucial deal with the major label Polydor Records. Moreover, their 1983 debut album (‘Lettin’ Loose’) was co-produced by the creative Mack together with Queen guitarist Brian May. Now, that’s pedigree.

Amazingly, that album has survived more than 20 years of high-speed hi-tech developments intact. While other, more celebrated records have dated badly, ‘Lettin’ Loose’ re-affirms the belief back then that the Pettin would follow Leppard to big time stature. What went wrong at the time has little to do with band, or lack of ambition/talent.

In America, where they should have broken big long before Bon Jovi gave Love A Bad Name, they were held back by the label’s insistence on an anaemic re-mix (as well as a title change to ‘Heavy Pettin’, which caused more confusion than anything else). If the band’s essential, vital British brio had been left as conceived in the first place, who knows what might have been achieved. Still, a slot on the bill for the 1983 Reading Festival, the day that Black Sabbath infamously headlined when fronted by Ian Gillan, did them no harm and touring with both Kiss and Ozzy helped the quintet’s progress.

Two years later, the Pettin return to the studio, this time with producer Mark Dearnley (who’d worked with AC/DC and Krokus). The result? ‘Rock Ain’t Dead’, which surprised many with a slicker yet conversely tougher approach. The lads really had progressed, although ironically if things had gone to plan, this would have been produced by Lance Quinn, of Bon Jovi and Lita Ford fame. However, just hours before the band were due to fly to Philadelphia, to work with Quinn at his Warehouse Studios, the decision was taken by PolyGram (to whom both Heavy Pettin and Bon Jovi were signed in the US) that, instead, he should start work immediately on what was to be Jovi’s second record, ‘7800 Degrees Fahrenheit’.

Perhaps then, it should have been obvious that record company politics were to scupper Pettin in the crucial American market. Despite continuing to show up well in the UK, once again the US was to prove elusive – through no fault of the five musicians. In many respects, this was the point when the writing was scrawled over every available wall space. Regardless of their obvious determination and grassroots support in Britain, it seemed as if Pettin’s realistic chance of significant international success had gone. A third album, ‘The Big Bang’, was released by FM Revolver in 1989. Although it still proved this lot were way ahead of so many others who were selling truckloads of units and getting acclaim from the media; as the 1980s faded into memory, so too did Heavy Pettin.

Driven by a desire, a passion and a capacity simply to invoke the magic and rapport the band enjoyed, they released Prodigal Songs in 2007. The album was well received by their loyal fans and the limited pressing sold out making it a highly sought-after collector’s item.

In 2017, original members Hamie, Punky, and Gordon joined by Jez Parry on bass and Michael Ivory on drums performed for the first time in 25 years at Scotland’s WinterStorm. Reinvigorated, Heavy Pettin, now joined by ex-Gun guitarist Dave Aitken due to Punky hanging up his guitar and going in to retirement, did several shows in 2018 including a 6 date UK tour, with 3 sold out gigs in Nottingham, London and Edinburgh, as well as 2 sold out headline gigs in Milton Keynes and Glasgow.

2019 is going to be Heavy Pettin’s year with the HRH AOR March 16, Headbangers Open Air in Germany in July 27th  and Aug 25th Golden Age of Rock Festival in Belgium already booked and more dates to be announced.

According to Hamie, fans should look for a new album as “…the demand and support for new HP material has been so overwhelming, we are excited to say we’re now working on brand new HP material which will be released in 2019… and it’s going great!"

Watch an interview with the band: https://youtu.be/G3jXV5zN7ng

Heavy Pettin’ Dates Confirmed 2019:

MAR 16 - Hard Rock Hell - AOR, Camp HRH, North Wales MAR 30 - Bannermans Rock Bar, Edinburgh, Scotland MAR 31 - Trillians Newcastle, England w/ Spartan Warrior JUL 27 - Headbangers Open Air Festival, Brande-Hӧmerkirchen, Germany AUG 25 - Golden Age Rock Festival, Liège, Belgium AUG 30 - Crauford Arms Music Venue, Milton Keynes, England w / Tytan

Facebook: @heavypettinofficial Twitter: @Heavy_Pettin Instagram: @heavypettinofficial

[callitlouisa-blog]

CoaguCheck XS Plus

The International Normalized Ratio (INR)

The INR measures effect of warfarin on clotting time. If you are not on warfarin, your clotting time would be 0.8-1.2. People on warfarin, the INR would be between 2-3 and it may differ in different circumstances. So if the INR is 2, then it would take the blood twice as long to clot compared to normal, and if it is 3 then it would take 3 times as long.

As INR gets greater than 3, there are more variation when testing results, however CoaguChek has been referenced by WHO referencing method and there is a good correlation in results.

Possible causes of inaccurate results with CoaguCheck

Presence of anti-phospholipid antibodies - e.g. lupus patients (they would not be able to join the scheme)

Haematocrit <0.25 or >0.55 (e.g. anaemic)

Triglycerides >5.7mmol/L

Haemolysis >0.62mmol/L (e.g. squeezing finger when testing)

Bilirubin >513umol/L

The presence of alcohol or soap at the lancing site (e.g. need to have a dry finger when testing)

Hirudin

Check Coagucheck XS test strip packaging for interferences

Critical INR values

Once the INR gets below 2 or higher than 5, you will notice that at the lower end there is a higher increase in incidences of a clotting event, and in the higher end there is a higher increase of incidences in a bleed 

High INR values

If INR >5.0, repeat the test to confirm result and then refer to doctor

Withold warfarin

Retest in 24 hours to check INR is not rising

Administer vitamin K if patient bleeding or is at high risk with doctors approval

Check standing order

Types of meters

If a patient is not suitable to be tested at a pharmacy, they can get the CoaguCheck XS patient system to do testing at home.

In the battery pack, you can use AA batteries if there is a fault or machine goes dead.

Infrared window converts information to the laptop and there will be a light on top and it should be green.

There are vials of test strips in the box with one code chip. The code chip is supplied with the box and holds the information for the test. On the side of the code chip box is a number, and this number corresponds with the number on the code chip. So it is important to use the right code chip with the correct test strips.

The code chip is a metal piece that comes separate from the test strips and is inserted at the top of the meter when a new bottle of strips are used

A new code chip is used with each new test strip container

Setup -> Screen -> INR (not other options as this is what we use in NZ)

Options -> Beeper -> On High - always use high

Options -> Beeper -> Auto off - usually turns the meter off after 5 minutes to save power

Options -> Beeper -> Connection off - so it doesn’t connect to the internet

ID setup -> Operator active (never click admin button, only used in hospital settings)

ID setup -> patient -> patient ID required -> alphanumeric (using NHI) and leave minimum and maximum as 1 and 20

Finger pricking

Get the patient to hold their hand like they are going to shake hands with you (e.g. at a 45 degree angle) and just prick the index and middle finger. There is no reason for not using the other fingers except the technique makes it easier to use the middle and index finger.

The puncture site of the finger is on the side.

The fleshy part of the finger has a lot of nerve endings so you don’t want to use that part because it will hurt. It also makes it easier testing on the Coagucheck using the side of the finger.

Massage the finger from the base to the tip. Be quite firm when massaging the finger and you can tell it will have good blood flow when the finger has good colour. A good tip is to make sure patient hands are warm as if the hands are cold it is difficult to get good blood flow if they aren’t. Ask patients to wear gloves in winter before they visit, wash hands in warm water or use a wheat bag.

The device used to prick the finger is the SafeT Pro Plus. To use it, turn the barrel around to the deepest depth setting, then twist and pull off the pointy end. It is a single use fire, so use once and throw away. Make sure to hold the finger firmly and press firmly when firing.

Once the finger has been pricked, massage the finger from the base to the tip and what we want to achieve is to get a large drop of blood balanced on the finger. In the majority of cases, you would use the first drop of blood on the finger, but if the blood starts flowing on its own then use the second drop. So if you prick the finger and blood starts flowing all over the side of the fingers you want to wipe/milk the finger to get the blood away and massage again until there is a large drop of blood staying still on the finger.

Ask patient to relax and you will guide the finger. Hold the finger down at a 45 degree angle. The best position for the monitor is in front of patient on the edge of the table.

The drop must be placed on the strip within 15 seconds after puncture. This is because once you prick the finger the clotting process has already started so if there isn’t enough blood the first time you can’t go back and milk the finger to get more blood. 

How to use the meter to prick someone

To operate the Coagucheck, insert the code chip (it can only go in one way, with writing facing you) and enter the Operator ID. Do not try to force it in

Then touch patient test and enter ID

Insert test strip and when it is in, you will hear a beep.

Put the gloves and milk the finger from base to the tip while you wait for the meter to warm up (hourglass icon)

The meter will then have a 180 second countdown with a drop of blood which is when you will lancet the finger and then apply the drop of blood

Then grab the lancet and twist the barrel to the third position and twist the pointy end off so it is ready to fire

Press firmly on side of patient finger and fire, then milk the finger again from base to tip until you get a drop of blood (to size of ladybug)

Let the blood drop roll on to the test strip holding the finger at a 45 degree angle. Hold it there until you hear the meter beep

Once this happens, take the finger away and give tissue to the patient to press on the puncture site

QC tick will then come up on the scree and you will see the result

If a “c” is displayed next to the result, the haematocrit value could be very low or there may be error in blood collection (e.g. wet hands). Always repeat the measurement and make sure the patient hands are dry. If the message persists, perform a haematocrit check by referring patient back to the GP

There is also a comment section for you to add comments but you can do that on the computer anyway. If you take the test strip out you can’t add anything else.

Remove the strip and it and will go back to patient test screen

Throw the test strip away

Check the patients finger and see if they need a plaster and the test is complete

If there is a QC (x) then it might be that the strip has been compromised. Always make sure the test strip cap is on at all times so if you take cap to get a test then remember to put it back on.

The Coagucheck can hold:

2000 patient test results

500 liquid quality control tests

60 code chip records

Review results -> Patient result -> You can see the results saved and sort by patient ID, or chronologically in when they were done

Running Quality Control Solution test

The Quality Control test will allow you to be confident that the Coagucheck device is working well and INR results are appropriate analytical quality for patient care

Main Menu -> Setup -> QC settings -> QC range -> Default range

Go back a screen -> QC settings -> QC lockout -> New code yes -> Monthly (this means that on the 1st of every month, the device will lock you out from doing a patient test until you run a quality control test. When the monthly lockout is on it will always be on the 1st of the month when it locks you out. You cannot try and do the control test on the 31st as it will not register this)

QC Lockout -> 1 level (only do 1 level in nz)

When you order the QC code check quality control tester, this is the ONE item you do need to keep in the fridge. You will also have a code chip with the pipette and vial.

Snip the end of the pipette and let the liquid in the pipette drain into the dry powder of the vial. Give it a swirl and let it stand for 1 minute then you will have a maximum 30 minute window to get the test done

After countdown, it shows a pipette instead of a blood drop in the QC testing

If you got a fail result:

Get a fresh vial, fresh pipette, make it up from scratch and be 100% sure you waited for the minute and then repeat test. Usually the biggest error is people are in a hurry and you have not waited.

If everything is done again and the wait is done and you fail again you cannot test patients

Coagucheck will take the meter and strips back and give another meter to use in the mean time.

So, in summary you will get a QC lockout when it is the first of the month or when you have new strips.

You will need 3 things: chip, vial, pipette

Open the QC vial and check the code on the vial matches the code on the chip. Make sure the liquid is at the bottom of the pipette and snip the top with scissors. Dispense all the liquid into the vial and put the cap on the vial and swirl it. 

Then let the vial stand for 1 minute and put the QC code chip at the top of the meter and take out a test strip to insert into the meter until you hear a beep

It will then ask you if it is a new QC code or if it is QC (number). Check and select what it is.

It will then do a warm up and have a countdown come up with a pipette flashing.

Wait for the countdown to get to 120 seconds, give control a swirl still (do not shake or invert vial). The vial will then be reconstituted for a good minute, so take the cap off and use the same pipette and get solution and apply to test strip

Wait for result. It will tell you pass or fail. The range should be 1.7 to 2.5.You can now do a patient test

External Quality Assessment

CPAMS service specification: The device is calibrated with the code chip supplied by the manufacturer and accuracy is best independently tested using an “external quality assurance programme” (e.g. RCPA (Australia) or NEQAS (UK), laboratory comparison). As an additional check, the pharmacy may work with a local laboratory to compare test results with an INR blood test on selected Service Users

Thus, the product is Roche and the in-house testing with quality control is under Roche so we want something that is non-Roche to test to see the accuracy.

EQA follows:

Good Laboratory Practice

Independent from Manufacturer

Our recommendation for EQA:

System used by most pilot sites

Most cost effective, annual fee of $142 pounds

Delivery costs consolidated

Enrolment forms for UK NEQAS available from RDNZ

Enrolments occur every 3 months

Why not just compare a sample to the local laboratory:

Different in methods - not comparing like with like

Venous test required - patient consent necessary

Cleaning procedure

Monitor cleaning procedure

Turn off the monitor before cleaning it

Use alcohol wipes that have isopropyl alcohol (70%)

Do not use sprays as these may enter the monitor and damage it

If it looks clean then don’t need to clean it but if there is blood on it then give it a clean by holding the meter upright with the test strip guide facing down and make sure to let it dry for at least 10 minutes.

Error messages and technical data

If after re-trying prompts following the error message and the error message is still there, call Coagucheck as it could be a technical error.

E-403:

Need larger amount of blood on strip

Blood goes underneath the test strip

Did not wait the 180 second countdown to appear

E-304:

Needs temperature of minimum 15 degrees

Leave the meter on the table for about 10-15 minutes

E-405:

Have the meter on a flat surface facing the patient, you don’t want to be picking the meter up and taking it to the patient. You just want to guide the patient hand to the meter

E-401:

No blood detected, either missed the test strip or had a really small drop

May have gone over the maximum time 180 countdown before beginning test which is too late

If a result is greater than 8, you don’t know how much greater the result in and would need to follow standing order.

#june

[autisticlancemcclain]

Shiro had warned him. Hunk had warned him. Coran had warned him. Hell, Keith had even warned him, and offered one of his hoodies.

But had Lance listened? No, of course not. His stubborn ass refused any sort of layer and marched right out to the chilly planet in nothing but his jeans and baseball tee (he forwent his jacket in what Keith firmly believed to be spite), denying that he was cold through teeth chattering so badly that none of his words were actually legible by the time the negotiations wrapped up and they headed home.

“You sure you don’t want my hoodie?” Keith had asked, admittedly a little smug.

“Ch — choke to d — death,” Lance had replied, with as much dignity as he could with his lips turning blue.

(It’s not even that the planet was below freezing, or anything. It was maybe 14°C, give or take a couple degrees. But Lance had the shittiest circulation of anyone Keith had ever met, and as a result could not stay in cold environments very long without really starting to feel it. Sometimes Keith affectionately called him his little gecko, which Lance hated and everyone else found hilarious. Keith will admit that the gecko comment may have been part of the reason that Lance refused to wear a goddamned hoodie.)

Regardless of the reason for the Red Paladin’s stubbornness, when he walked into the kitchen the next morning with a red nose and a duvet wrapped around his shoulders, looking absolutely miserable, Keith can’t quite hide his smile.

He’s not the only one.

“Morning, popsicle,” Pidge greets, smirking.

Lance doesn’t even look at her, squinting at the space in front of him with bleary eyes. “Go fuck yourself.”

Hunk smiles into his cup, shaking his head, but Shiro has the good grace to at least look sympathetic.

“Got a little cold, there, buddy?”

“I’m actually dying.”

Allura snorts. “You don’t have to milk it, doofus. I’m not going to make you train like that.”

Lance sniffles, coughing wetly into his elbow. Keith starts to feel the first stirrings of pity in his gut.

“Good, because I might have died. My shrivelled lungs would have given out and collapsed, and that would be on your conscious.”

“Your lungs are fine, dear,” Coran says, eyes twinkling.

Lance tries to scoff, but it gets caught in his throat and turns into another cough. “None of you love me.”

He finally shuffles over to the food goo machine, squeezing out the smallest bowl Keith has ever seen him eat — his appetite must be shot — and makes his miserable way back over to the table, collapsing next to Keith.

As soon as he’s settled, Keith hooks his ankle around the leg of Lance’s chair, dragging him closer. He throws his arm around his boyfriend’s shoulder hoping his ‘seriously insane levels of human furnace — are you half Galra or half red sun’ (Lance’s words, obviously) will help Lance feel a little comfier. He pulls back the duvet hood just enough to expose Lance’s face a little, and presses a kiss to his temple.

“I’m sorry you’re sick,” he whispers, “even if I damn well told you to wear a jacket.”

Lance huffs, but a smile threatens to break free of the deep frown he’s forcing on his face.

“Shut up.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, jerk.”

#silly and short #vld #voltron #lance #lance mcclain #keith #keith kogane #klance #established klance #everyone else is mentioned #banter #sick lance #sickfic #more of my anaemic lance headcanon lol #soft klance #fluff #my writing #fic fragment #tall keith

[autisticlancemcclain]

“Lance, if those are my socks, you’re going to meet God tonight.”

Lance pauses just outside the common room door, glancing down at his feet (that are most definitely clad in Pidge’s gigantic knitted socks), then back to Pidge.

“I’m freezing!” he defends. “This castle is always subzero, and I’m anaemic! I needed them!”

Pidge scowls. “I know they’re warm! That’s why I wanted to wear them this morning, but couldn’t, because somebody stole them!”

Lance pouts, big brown eyes getting even bigger and bottom lip stuck out. “Aw, but Pidge —”

“No buts! You made those socks for me! Make your own! Give ‘em!”

Lance huffs as he peels them off — revealing another pair of socks, only they’re normal and not fuzzy and soft — and throws them at her.

“Meanie.”

“Thief!”

Pidge is correct — Lance is the worst clothes thief in the whole castle. In the universe, probably. Hell, he’s not even wearing a stitch of his own clothing right now — he’s wearing a long, thick skirt of Allura’s over a pair of Keith’s leggings, one of Hunk’s hoodies thrown over his shoulder. Keith can’t see due to the aforementioned giant hoodie, but he would bet his knife that under the hoodie is layered at least four various sweaters and shirts from other members of the team.

“You could just wear your own clothes, you know,” Shiro says, exasperatedly fond. “Lord knows you have more hoodies than the rest of the universe combined.”

“It’s not the same,” Lance insists. He looks mournfully at Pidge, who rolls her eyes at him. “And now I’m going to freeze to death.”

“Good,” she mutters, aggressively jamming the keys on her laptop. “Karma.”

Hunk flicks her on the ear.

“Hey!”

“Be nice,” he admonishes.

“Thank you,” Lance says primly.

“If Lance dies, who is going to get so stressed about the state of your room that they’ll clean if for you?” Hunk continues, teasing grin on his face.

Lance mouth drops in indignation. “How dare — insolence! Defamation! False accusations! I am being mocked in my own home!” He turns to Coran, dramatically incensed and enraged. “Dad!” he says, which is something he only calls Coran when he wants to get his way. “Pidge and Hunk are bullying me!”

“I heard, dear,” Coran says, amused. “How rude of them.”

“Yeah!” Lance says. He gestures wildly towards the duo in question. “They should be — punished!”

“I see. Pidge? Hunk? Do you deserve to be punished?”

Pidge and Hunk look up from their projects to bat their eyelashes, expressions as innocent as possible.

Keith quickly hides a laugh as a cough. Luckily, Lance is too caught up in dramatics to notice.

“Why, of course not, dearest father,” Hunk says. “No bullying remarks ever crossed my lips.”

“Nor have they crossed mine, Papa,” Pidge agrees, putting on a silly Victorian accent. “Why, I am appalled at the very accusation!”

“I certainly heard no count of defamation,” Allura comments, looking up for the first time in what has to have been an hour. She’s been carefully painting Shiro’s prosthetic, covering it in a myriad of flowers and vines. Shiro keeps looking down at it and smiling. “Shiro? Did you hear anything?”

“Not a thing,” Shiro says. He looks over at Lance, barely suppressing a smirk. “Sorry, kiddo!”

“Betrayed!” Lance whines. “Unloved! By my very family, my comrades in arms! I have been shot, abandoned, left to rot. Unto no minds doth my very self cross, nor the hearts or sentiments of my closest loves. Instead I am left to freeze, to perish, as frost grows from my fingertips —”

“C’mere, Mercutio,” Keith teases, interrupting Lance’s soliloquy. He pats the cushion next to him, lifting up his arm so Lance knows what Keith is implying. “You can tuck your feet under my thighs, if you want.”

“Finally!” Lance cries, stumbling over to Keith. “Someone loves me, in this cold and weary hellscape of treason!”

Lance settles in with a relish, gleefully shoving his toes under Keith’s thigh — how do they feel like ice bricks, he’s wearing at least two normal pairs of socks and Keith’s sweatpants aren’t that thin — and plastering himself to Keith’s side. He rests his head on Keith’s shoulder, squiggling around until he’s comfortable and can see everyone else.

“Keith, you are the only valid person in this room,” he says, very seriously. (Well, as seriously as he can with amusement making his eyes sparkle.)

“Oh, how the turntables,” Hunk mutters.

Keith smiles. It is kind of strange, he supposes.

“Imagine trying to explain this to us three years ago,” he whispers to Lance. Lance laughs.

“I don’t think past me would even begin to take you seriously,” he agrees.

Privately, Keith thinks that past him probably wouldn’t have all that much trouble. He’d be a little shocked, sure, but Keith’s always been soft for the kind ones, and always had a thing for the cocky loudmouths. Lance is a lucky mix of exactly Keith’s type.

“Hey, Lance,” Hunk says after a while. “Genuinely asking — why do you always steal all our clothes? You never did at the Garrison. Or, well, you did, but not this much.”

Lance hums, reaching over to grab Keith’s free hand and fidgeting with his fingers. It takes him a long moment to answer — long enough that everyone else stops what their doing, looking over at him curiously.

“Hundreds of years ago,” he says finally, voice husky and quiet, “in the time of bad spirits and changelings, there lived a woman with her small child and husband. The woman loved her husband deeply, and he her, and it saddened her every time he left, but times were tight — he was a fisherman in a time of great recession, and had to leave often and for long periods of time to get enough for them to eat and sell.

“The woman was hardy, though, and fended well for herself and her baby even without her husband. She worked any job she could with the babe strapped to her back, keeping her mind busy so the loneliness wouldn’t plague her too deeply. Every morning she held for several moments her husband’s waistcoat, that he’d left behind for fear of ruining it out at sea. It did not hold the warmth of her husband, nor even the smell of him after so long, but he’d had the coat so long that she felt it carried a part of him in it, and that part was enough to carry her through the day.

“One day, while she was gathering the dried laundry from the lines, she heard a rustling inside the house. She called out, hopeful that her husband had returned early, but there was no response. Hesitantly, careful of the babe on her back, she crept in through the bedroom window, shrouding herself in shadows so as to remain hidden.

“She was smart to be so cautious, for a fairy had snuck in — and was standing gleefully in the kitchen! The wretched thing crouched by the hearth, rubbing its hands together, waiting for her and her babe to come in through the door.

“Now the woman knew she could not stay hidden forever. Eventually her back would tire, or the babe would wake, or even the fairy would grow bored of waiting and search for her — regardless, she would be found. And the woman was no witch, so she knew no spells for herself, no charms to protect herself and the child. She had only herself, her wits, and the laundry she had gathered. The woman was not ignorant to magic, either. She knew of the power that lay dusted over every single thing; the spirit that resided in living and non-living things alike.

“But the woman was young, and unpracticed. What say she of the powers that be? She did not know how to summon them. She did not know how she could outwit or out-charm a fairy. She did not know even if it was possible. In truth she was afraid, and longed for comfort as deeply as safety. She tightened her hands on her husband’s waistcoat, the softness of the wool soothing her mind, and wrapped it carefully around her and the babe. The memory of her husband and his love bolstered her spirit and cleared her mind. She could not fight the fairy, but perhaps she could reason with it. Fairies were wicked, but they were weak to games and bets.

“With her husband’s coat wrapped around her, she stepped out of the shadows, striding forward with confidence she did not feel to the kitchen, where the fairy was crouched.

“But the fairy did not stir.

“She looked at it strangely, having expected it to react immediately to the sounds of her footsteps, but it did not move. It only scowled deeply at the door, thin lips curled and porcelain-white skin purple in rage.

“‘Horrible humans!’ it screeched, banging its gnarled fists on the floor. ‘Anticipated my tricks, and fled from the house! Bah! I have waited for hours; I shall wait no longer. I will return tomorrow at the set of the sun, and descend upon them then.’ And then the fairy ran from the house, disappearing into the darkness of the forest.

“The woman was shocked. She had made no effort to conceal herself, after the shadows, and yet the fairy had not noticed her. She realized clearly that her husband’s spirit, caught in the threads of his coat, had protected her and her babe, and the fairy could not see through it. She resolved to stay wrapped up in the coat until the fairy grew bored of her home and left her in peace.

“For weeks, the woman kept her and her infant wrapped in the coat. It was with her when she slept, and when she worked, and when she ate. She kept herself secure in the heaviness of the worn wool, and over time the fairy did grow bored of waiting, coming to the house less and less until it did not come at all. Still she wore the coat, as wearing it brought her strength, brought her comfort.

“When her husband finally returned from sea, she ran to him, embracing him tightly and settling in his warmth, his scent. He carried the security of the waistcoat tenfold, and she had touched him only for minutes.

“When she told him of the fairy and the waistcoat, he was glowing in his pride of her. ‘You are as bright as any of the stars,’ he told her, cupping her face gently. ‘Fairies are evil, wretched creatures, who have been blinded to love. By wearing my waistcoat you shrouded yourself in a spirit the fairy could not see, and so it could not harm you. Your faith and love outwitted the bitter heart of the fairy.’”

No one speaks for several minutes after Lance finishes, struck silent by the captivating stillness in the room, the magic present from the story.

“That’s the story my Nana would tell me when she was teaching me how to sew, how to knit,” Lance says, breaking the silence. “She told me not to make the stitches too tight or there wouldn’t be room for love to settle in the clothing. And it just — it makes me feel safer, I guess. To be wearing other people’s clothes.”

“That’s beautiful,” Shiro says, smiling softly. Lance smiles back.

“Your Nana?” Pidge questions. “I would’ve thought you’d call her Abuela.”

“Well,” Lance says, in a startlingly good Scottish accent. “The McClain half ‘a me family had to come from somewhere, eh, lass?”

“I didn’t know you were Scottish,” Keith says quietly. It does make sense — McClain is a very Scottish name, now that he thinks of it — but somehow he’d never considered it.

“His mom’s side is,” Hunk chimes in. “That’s why he’s so freckly.”

Lance chuckles. “Yep. Only my Nana was born there, though. She fled to Cuba to escape my shithead grandfather when she was pregnant with my mom. She grabbed her passport and her purse and hauled ass to the airport in the middle of the night, and chose the first and cheapest flight available, which on that particular day was to Cuba. Lucky for her it ended up working, and now I can’t imagine being anywhere else.”

“She sounds awesome,” Pidge says.

“She is. She taught me how to shoot, too.”

“I’d like to meet her, when we get to Earth,” Allura declares.

“Oh, she’ll love you, ‘Llura. Badass leader of an intergalactic revolution? You’re the coolest thing she can conceptualise.”

Allura looks pleased at the compliment.

“She’ll love all of you, in fact,” Lance continues. “Almost as much as she loves me. I’m her favourite.”

“You’re everyone’s favourite,” Coran says, and no one can really disagree.

———

based on this post

#i just wanted an excuse to write out that folk tale i’ll be real #vld #voltron #lance #lance mcclain #klance #team as family #keith kogane #hunk garrett #pidge holt #takashi shirogane #princess allura #coran #space dad coran #dorky team #brown-eyed lance #autistic lance #dramatic lance #storyteller lance #my writing #fic #longpost #fluff #scottish cuban lance

[autisticlancemcclain]

my friend @beloveddawn-blog helpfully sent me a list of questions to help me get my creative juices flowing in this massive bout of writing struggles i got going on. ily mwah.

1. Do you prefer in-denial Lance or pining Lance? How about Keith?

basic cop-out answer but it changes from fic to fic. in a more comedic fic, i like to go for lance who is both pining AND in-denial, aka he knows he’s in love and is mad at it, or i like to make keith like so painfully oblivious to lances blatant PLEASE DATE MEs that it’s funny. generally tho i go for gooey whipped mutual pining.

2. Do you prefer Keith to be baffled by Lance's flirting or just baffled Lance is flirting with him?

baffled that lance is flirting with him. the I Do Not Deserve To Be Loved -complex is my favourite complex to give keith bc i have problems and he’s just so easy to blorbo

3. What's your favourite episode and why?

i’m gonna be so real with you voltron was so bad that once i finished s6 at like 15 yrs old i vowed never to watch it again 💀💀 six years later this vow holds true. however i remember liking the first episode, the mermaid episode, the space mall episode, and the episode where keith chases lotor in the black lion and lance is like dude you fucked up. dumbass. but he’s very obviously fond and he’s THERE and they’re gonna fix it together and that is the first time keith realises that lance fully and completely has his back. that is the moment he fell in love to me

4. What's your favourite character beat and why?

i don’t know what a character beat is BUT i am a lance stan as you may have guessed. interestingly, i used to watch voltron with my siblings and as with all character things we did together, we each picked a favourite and then only that one character was allowed to be your favourite. lance was picked before i could pick him but i got keith (and thus have the most merch of him). and honestly….keith is kind of my favourite i never stop thinking about him and also i write in his pov the most (granted, about lance lol).

5. What's your favourite line you've ever written.

oh that’s a hard one! not to toot my own horn or anything but i’ve had some stellar lines, at least i think. i have a lot of lines that are profound or whatever but to this day i’m proudest of the “i’m anaemic” “oh i didn’t know you had an eating disorder” line like i made myself laugh out loud 💀

6. What's your favourite fic you've ever written

eighty percent of my fics are my faves bc i write to indulge myself lol. BUT i’m rly super proud of my look so good longfic, i love the applebees universe, and the beauty and the beast au is dear to me. i’m also obsessed with this fic that only exists in my head bc i have typed nothing yet. it’s a theatre school taming of the shrew au.

7. What is your favourite type of AU? Do you prefer complete AUs (like BatB) or detail AUs (that angsty thing you wrote where Lance leaves after the game show)?

i love modern aus really. i’m a fan of the mundane. as a close second i like redoing movies/songs/books that aren’t usually au’ed. and i like complete aus WAY better, i just have trouble actually completing them 😭😭

#thank u for asking ily <3333 #if anyone else has questions feel free to ask #just general or about specific fics/universes #vld