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broadstbroskis · 3 years

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the wedding date | morgan rielly

a/n: well first things first, i’m gonna give a shoutout to myself, because i started this fucking thing back in august and it’s finally completed (that’s right, it took me 7 months to write just under 5k, shhh, it finally came together).

anyway, since i started this back in august, you can tell i’ve had this idea for a while. it’s morphed and changed a bit but the basic premise has stayed the same- you go home with morgan for a wedding and everyone thinks that you’re the girl he’s been dating for the last few years- so i hope you all enjoy! (also i’m sorry i suck at titles but like i’m not)

a special shoutout to these lovely people who have listened to me whine about this at any point over the last SEVEN MONTHS and some fellow mo lovers because you’re all amazing and i love you, @denis-scorianov, @brockadoodles, @danglesnipecelly, @laurenairay, @hockeyboysiguess

-----

When Morgan approaches you, with what you’ll later learn is only his first attempt to ask you something, you don’t even give him the chance, really. “Hey, what are you doing this summer?”

“Not you.” You quip back, grinning cheekily, ignoring the barks of laughter from Matthews and Marner beside him.

“Haha.” Morgan deadpans, but it’s busy that night at the bar, Saturday night after a Leafs win, and you’ve really got to get back to work now that you’ve finished serving them, so you’re already walking away from him.

The second time it happens is a Friday night, a few weeks later, when you’re out with some friends for the first time all semester. It’s late enough that you’re feeling just on the right side of tipsy, you’re drunk enough that you know you’re going to go home with the guy you shouldn’t, and you’re okay with both of those things.

At least, tonight you are. Tomorrow morning will be a different story.

And then, Morgan stops you at the bar. “Hey.”

“Hey!” You grin back...and then it slowly fades as he just hems and haws. “What’s up?”

“I-” He blows out a frustrated groan.

Your eyebrows raise. You’ve known Morgan for years now, since his first season with Leafs had been right about when you started working at the bar for some extra cash after realizing just how expensive school was getting and grad school would be beyond that. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen him at such a loss for words. “Alright, well if you can’t think of it now, get back to me later, okay?”

“Wait-” He says, so you give him a minute or two, but there’s still nothing.

“Ok, I love you, but this is my one night out before my dissertation is due later this spring.” You tell him, reaching out for a hug. “You have my number and you know where to find me.”

“Ok.” Morgan smiles a little. “Have fun tonight.” And then you slink away from him, back in the direction of your friends, ready to let loose one last time before the craziness sets in.

The night that Morgan finally gets his question out is a quiet one in the middle of the week. He settles himself into the corner, doing his best to be discrete with a hat covering his face. By the time you and your coworker get everyone settled with drinks and you make your way over to him, he’s caught the attention of one older man, who immediately walks back to his girlfriend when you arrive at Morgan’s section of the bar.

“Well finally.” He’s free of all teammates, a rarity but not unheard of, especially this late in the season. “What’s a guy gotta do to get some service around here?”

“Oh sorry!” You tease. “Did I interrupt something here? Did you want me to call that guy back up so you guys could finish up?”

He flattens you with a look. “Don’t you dare.”

You giggle, leaning down against the bar in front of him. You know how much he loves the Toronto fanbase, but as playoffs approach, the fans are becoming more vocal and more forward with their thoughts. “You want another drink?”

He looks down at his glass, contemplates for a minute, and then nods, so you return quickly with a new beer for him and then smile as you watch him take a large gulp of it. “So what’s new?”

“Ehh loaded question.” He says cryptically. You give him a look. “But hey, you’re here on a Wednesday! You done with your...dissertation?” He trails off hesitantly, smiling at himself when you nod.

“Yup. I should know next week if I’m all clear.”

“And then?” He prompts.

“And then you can call me doctor, asshole.” You tease.

“I mean, Dr. Asshole isn’t what I would have gone with as my first choice, but if that’s what you want…”

“Morgan!” You laugh, ducking your head at the lame joke.

He’s grinning when you meet his eyes again, pleased as always that he could make someone laugh. “But seriously, that’s awesome! I’m excited for you.”

“Thanks.” You grin.

“What’s your next step then?”

“Umm I get to start researching infectious diseases for money.” You tell him excitedly, since you’d accepted a job with the University of Toronto’s medical research facilities. “But it doesn’t start until August.”

You’d expected Morgan to tease you about your excitement of infectious disease-something he and his teammates (among many other people you know) have done multiple times before-but instead, he perks up and says, “So you’d be free, on say, the weekend of July 8th?”

“Why?” You ask suspiciously. Experience has told you not to immediately say yes to this.

Morgan sighs. “Look. I need a date for a wedding back home that weekend.”

“And I’m the best you could come up with?”

“Best?” Morgan repeats. “You are funny, you’re pretty, you’re a doctor, all of which, frankly, puts you well out my league.”

“You’re not wrong.” You agree cheerfully, which puts the smile back on Morgan’s face, as you’d hoped. “But that doesn’t explain why you’d need a date to this wedding.”

The smile fades quickly and you wince. “I was supposed to go with Laura.”

You frown. “What happened to Laura?” Last you’d heard, the two of them were solid. Really solid. Headed for a wedding themselves, solid.

“She wasn’t who I thought she was.” He says flatly.

You wince. “I’m sorry, Mo.”

He shrugs. “It’s over and done with now.” You send him a reassuring smile. “So will you come?”

Well, there’s really no way you can say no now and not feel like an asshole. “Sure.”

The grin returns to his face. “Knew you’d come through for me.”

-----

Morgan rolls up to the airport in Vancouver to pick you up in a very fancy looking Jeep, a far cry from the sporty Porsche he drives in Toronto, and you call him out on it immediately. “I see how it is. You go home and you’re a fancy country boy, not a fancy city boy?”

He laughs. “Fuck off.”

“Gladly.” You tell him, grinning teasingly. “Drop me off at departures, will ya?”

His tone immediately turns serious. “Thank you. Seriously. Thanks for coming.”

Your smile remains on your face, still beaming over at him. “It was nothing, Mo.” It wasn’t, really, and you both know it. You’d quit your bar job a couple weeks early because of this, but you were happy to do this for him. He’d been down about Laura, down about being bounced from the playoffs again. This spring had been rough on him and you were more than happy to do your part to cheer up one of your closest friends.

Morgan hmms, in a way like he’s pretending to be casual about it, but he changes the subject as he switches lanes to pull onto the highway.

-----

Morgan has a whole itinerary for the next few days, prior to the wedding, but promises he’ll take you around to some of his favorite spots before you leave late next week. A quiet night tonight, dinner with his parents and brother tomorrow, and then the wedding stuff began the following day.

Much like his fancy Jeep, his fancy house in Vancouver is also nothing like the condo he owns in Toronto. You wouldn’t go so far as to say that his condo is...edgy, but it’s pretty modern? The house here in Vancouver is larger, sure, but reminds you a lot of the house you grew up in...or well, a larger and fancier version of it.

“Gonna give me a tour?” You turn to Morgan, who’s standing next to you almost awkwardly, as you look up at the beautiful house in front of you. Your bags are still in his hands, and you nudge his arm playfully, reaching for one, but he won’t let you grab it, smiling back at you as he starts to lead you in.

The inside is just as nice, and even though it’s clear that his mom and interior decorator have done a lot of work on it, there’s still a lot of Mo touches too. Each one makes you smile, the ones he points out in his tour and the ones that he doesn’t, until he finally leads you upstairs, dropping your things in one of the spare rooms. “Did I-“

“If the next words out of your mouth are say thank you, I’m walking out of this house.” You warn him.

“-ask what you want to do for dinner tonight?” Morgan finishes lamely and you laugh.

“That sushi place you always hype up?”

Morgan smiles. “Anything you want.” He says, and then, instead of the thank you that you know he wants to say, he pulls you in for a hug and squeezes tightly, before letting go. “Change and we’ll go?”

“Shower, change, and we’ll go.” You correct, dying to get the feel of airplane off you. “45 minutes.”

Morgan looks at you knowingly. “Sure, uh huh.” He says, nodding like he knows it’ll be much closer to an hour, an hour and fifteen, and you laugh, shoving at his shoulder before he makes you want to stretch it out to an hour and a half on purpose.

-----

Morgan’s parents might be the nicest people in the world, but they’re also a little...odd? Like, you’re not trying to be mean, because just like Morgan, they truly are the absolute sweetest, but, like, they just keep smiling at you with this knowing smile, like they know something that you don’t and it’s just...weird.

But they welcome you with open arms, when the two of you show up to dinner on your second night in town, hugging you just as tightly as they hug their own son, maybe even tighter than they hug the son who still lives in the same province as them.

“We’re so excited to finally meet you!” Morgan’s mom gushes, once you get settled in their kitchen with a glass of wine, which at least explains the weirdness a little. “

“You guys too.” You admit. You’ve heard so much about them, his parents and brother, over the years of friendship with Morgan; it’s nice to finally put faces to names, to stories. “Thanks for having me tonight.” Next to you, Morgan nudges you, a grin on his face. You can practically hear him. Stop saying thank you, like you’ve been saying to him for the past day.

“Oh stop!” She says, practically in time with his nudge. “Morgan tells us you’re a doctor now!” It’s said with pride, like you may as well be one of her own children who’s done something great.

“Yeah!” You smile, swirling the wine around a little, and then, because you don’t want there to be any confusion. “Not that kind of doctor; you should still call 911 if something happens.”

His dad laughs and his mom beams. “What kind of doctor then?” His dad asks, and you spend a while talking with his parents about epidemiology and your dissertation- his mom, it turns out, works in a similar field, and it isn’t long before the two of you are rolling your eyes about some research that just came out.

“What?” You ask Morgan, laughing, when your conversation breaks out, and she has to go check on dinner, at his dad’s request, before he burns it all entirely.

“I just forgot how excited you get about infectious diseases.”

“Can’t believe you’ve been out here this whole time knowing that your mom and I both exist and haven’t introduced us.” You announce. “The rudeness, the hearsay.”

“I don’t think that’s how that word’s used.” Morgan cackles.

“Oh, sorry, are you a doctor?”

“That doesn’t have anything to do with knowing how that word is used!” He protests, laughing.

You ignore him. “If you even think of keeping her from me when they come to Toronto…”

He wraps his arm around your shoulders and squeezes. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

-----

“Are you ready yet?” Morgan calls, and you take one last look in the mirror on the wall, smoothing the pleats in your dress. “We’re going to be late!”

“But it’s gonna be worth it!” You sing-song as you descend the stairs to meet him in the living room.

“Is it ev-” He cuts off abruptly, eyes wide and swallowing visibly as he cuts off. “Wow, okay then.”

“Worth it.” You wink at him, brushing past him to grab your purse.

Morgan’s laughing as he picks up his keys, this soft and gentle thing that you can’t help but smile at. “Yeah, I should’ve known it would be.”

“You’ll know better for tomorrow!” You tease, and breeze past him to get in the car.

The ride to his cousin’s rehearsal dinner isn’t far, spent mostly laughing as you keep switching the station from anything Morgan changes it back to. By the time you arrive at the restaurant, you’re both giggling as you enter, flagged down almost immediately by Morgan’s mom.

“Look at you two!” She gushes.

“Mom.” Morgan says dryly. “Come on.”

She smiles at him indulgently. “Make sure you say hi to your cousin.”

“Yeah, of course.” Morgan nods, grabbing your hand to pull you away. “Just after we hit the bar.” He mutters and you giggle.

His cousin, the bride, and her husband-to-be seem to have the same idea, and it’s just as you’re turning away, wine glasses in hand, that you nearly run into them.

“Oh!” Ashley beams excitedly, once Morgan introduces you. “Hi!”

“Congratulations!” You return the excitement. She’s so bubbly and bright; it’s easy to do, even though you don’t know her. “You guys look so great tonight; you’re going blow us all away tomorrow.”

“She’s going to blow me away tomorrow.” Dylan jokes, but you can tell by the twinkle in his eye that he’s entirely serious.

“Oh stop.” Ashley knocks his arm. “And you too,” She gestures at you. “You look amazing! How’d you do your hair like that?”

“This?” She nods and you walk her through it quickly; it’s a look that’s so much more simple than it looks and she’s gasping by the time you’re done.

“Ok, mhmm.” She nods. “I’m getting your number from Morgan later so you can go over that with me again because I’m definitely going to forget.”

Morgan flicks a piece of your hair. “It’s a hairstyle, what could you possibly forget?”

You and Ashley exchange a look. “I got you.” You reassure her as you both laugh at him.

“Men, honestly.” She shakes her head, as Morgan and Dylan protest, but then before you and Ashley can talk any more, she and Dylan are being called away, and there’s promises for you all to catch up tomorrow at the wedding.

“You can’t have her phone number unless you promise not to talk about me.” Morgan says.

“Fat chance.” You tell him. “But nice try.”

From there, you start making your way back to his parents, stopping off to chat quickly with relatives he recognizes (and once, ducking purposefully into a small crowd to avoid an aunt he doesn’t want to see). You feel like it shouldn’t be surprising how nice his family is, given how genuine Morgan is, but each person you meet welcomes you so warmly, with kind words and open arms.

“You must talk about me a lot.” You tease, as you two start making your way to your table.

Morgan shrugs. “More than I’d realized apparently.” You cackle and he laughs; it’s familiar and easy, but then you’re easily distracted by the appetizers coming to the table and fighting Morgan for extra of your favorites-also familiar and easy.

-----

It’s another morning of Morgan waiting impatiently for you, being rewarded with his gaping jaw dropped, and teasing him the entire ride to the wedding, before he easily gets his revenge when you tear up at the ceremony.

“You don’t even know these people!” He nudges you forward toward his cousin in the reception line right after the ceremony. “And you’re going to cry like that?”

“It was a beautiful ceremony!” You defend. You’d been right yesterday; Ashley had easily blown everyone away from the moment she’d entered the room. Their vows were incredible; you didn’t understand how anyone wasn’t crying.

Morgan snickers, nudging you forward again. “God, what do you do at weddings you actually know the people at?” He pauses as you both step closer another, like the idea has just come to him. “Oh man, what are going to do at your own wedding?”

“Bawl my eyes out, obviously.” You say dryly. “Tell my future husband to bring tissues.” You move up, next in line for Ashley and Dylan. “You clearly didn’t get the message.”

“What’d you do?” Ashley pokes him; you guess whoever was in front of you was a guest she didn’t know all that well because they’ve moved along pretty quickly.

“Me? I’d never.” Morgan says innocently, ducking down to kiss her cheek.

“I’m just giving him a hard time.” You agree and she grins, shocking you when she pulls you in for a hug.

“He probably deserves it.” She says cheerfully.

“Wow, I see family loyalty goes a long way here, huh.” Morgan deadpans.

Ashley gives him a look. “Not for much longer, I guess, though?” She nudges him.

“Oh I see how it is, you’ve been married for all of five minutes and suddenly Dylan’s family is better than ours?” Morgan teases.

Ashley blinks. “That is...not how I meant that at all.” She says, but before she can say anything else to you, the couple behind the two of you starts sighing impatiently, and you all realize how long you’ve been talking for. You quickly congratulate her and then move along to Dylan as well, before stepping out of line and moving towards the reception area.

The bridal party was quick to get the reception started after the ceremony, so when you and Morgan make your way over, there’s already a decent sized group chatting and drinking. You both grab drinks from the bar and make your way to a group of his cousins, chatting for a while and laughing along as they’re sure to include you in all of their jokes.

When it comes time to start making your way to your table for dinner, you excuse yourself to the bathroom quickly, running into Morgan’s grandmother when you’re there, who had the same idea as you it seems.

She lights up when she sees you fixing your hair in the mirror, stepping up to wash her hands. “It looks great.” She assures you and you smile, thanking her. “Are you having a good time?”

You nod, following her out so the two of you can make your way back to the reception. “Such a good time! Everyone’s been amazing and Ashley and Dylan are beautiful; it’s been a great weekend!”

“It’ll be great to be all be here again,” Morgan’s grandmother smiles at you and you return it politely. “Next summer.” She adds, like an afterthought, and you shrug. She’d know better than you what the upcoming engagements look like. You can barely remember the names of the people you’re seated with tonight.

“If Morgan brings me back then.” You throw her a finger gun and she laughs-loudly.

“Oh, you’re a trip!” She nudges you gently, laughing. “Such a doll. Let’s get another glass of wine together before we go back, shall we?”

“I will never say no to that.” You’re pretty sure you still have a couple minutes to spare before you need to sit down.

His grandmother links arms with you. “My kinda gal.” She beams and her smile is contagious, just like Morgan’s is when he’s really happy, so it’s not hard to grin along with her as she tugs you along for another glass of rosé.

-----

The evening’s winding down- the wedding long over and the after party beginning to do so as well. Almost all of the older relatives have made their way home or to their hotel rooms but there’s a few sloppy cousins and friends still going hard (you’ve got some serious concerns how the one groomsman is even going to make it upstairs). Ashley and Dylan keep stealing glances at each other, like they’re wondering if it’s late enough for them to sneak away yet, but each time they look like they’re going to, someone calls for another toast.

Morgan nudges you. “Hey.” He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a couple cigars. “Outside with me?”

You think about it for a second. Usually, you love a good cigar-and you’re sure that Morgan’s managed to acquire a good one- but tonight? “Not really in the mood, but I’ll come out.”

He grins, a little crooked, and offers his hand to help you up from the couch the two of you have been sitting on. Outside, the weather is beautiful, one of those crystal clear nights with a light breeze where you feel like you could be outside for hours. He lights the cigar while you continue to sip at your wine, the two of you standing in comfortable silence, until the door opens again.

“Cigars without me?” His brother grumbles. “I see how it is now.”

“Yup, just left you behind on purpose.” Morgan says shamelessly, but he’s already pulling the spare out of his pocket and handing it over.

“Unsurprising.”

“Yeah?” Morgan asks, amusedly. “Why’s that?”

His brother gives him a look, and then, when Morgan doesn’t react, looks over at you, but you just shrug. “Just promise you won’t forget about me once you pop the question.”

You choke on your drink; Morgan looks just as shocked, the cigar halfway to his mouth. “What?” He says finally.

For the first time, his brother looks unsure. “I think...we all just thought...once you brought her home, that was the only thing holding you back?”

“Oh my god.” Morgan says breathlessly.

“I’m not-” You add helplessly. “We’re not-”

“Oh.” His brother winces. “Wait, so you’re not…” He trails off and the silence between the three of you becomes so thick it’s almost palpable. You don’t know what to do, what to say. What he even means. “You’re not together?” He says finally, sounding like he’d rather be anywhere else, doing anything else.

You can relate. You shake your head slowly, notice Morgan’s doing the same out of the corner of your eye.

“Um.” His brother continues. “And-and you haven’t been-together?” Another head shake. “Wow. A lot of people are going to be very disappointed.”

“A lot of people?” Morgan repeats. “Who...who all thinks this?” But you don’t need an answer to know and apparently, he doesn’t either. The silence thickens somehow; you didn’t think it was possible.

“Um.” His brother’s already backing away, even as he speaks. “I’m gonna go now. Before I say anything else to make this worse.”

He’s gone before you can tell him you’re not sure that’s possible, leaving you and Morgan in the loudest silence you’ve ever experienced.

It’s abundantly clear Morgan feels it too, from the way he won’t even meet your eyes, will barely even look at you, actually. And there’s so much to say here, but well, “You never brought Laura to meet your family? Never let them meet her at home?” Apparently, they really weren’t as serious as you’d thought.

Morgan laughs hollowly, finally meeting your eyes. “That probably should have been a clue, huh?”

“A little bit of a red flag.” You agree. It’d been how many years? Morgan’s tight with his family, that much you knew before you’d come out here and only became clearer as you met them. “Why...why didn’t you ever introduce them?”

Morgan sighs. “I think-I always knew something wasn’t right. And I just didn’t want to admit it?” He sighs again. “I shouldn’t have brought you into this.”

“You didn’t know.” You tell him gently. “And I wanted to come.” You remind him. “I was happy to!” You pause for a second. “I was happy to come across the country to a wedding with you and your family with barely a second thought. So maybe we both need to re-examine what happened here this weekend.”

“Maybe we don’t.” Morgan says simply.

“What?” You frown, confused.

“You were happy to fly across the country for a wedding with me and my family.” Morgan repeats, with a small smile on his face. “And then you come here and meet my entire family, and they think I’m ready to propose to you, because you're the girl they hear me talk about all the time.” Your jaw drops-is he saying...what you think he’s saying-and his smile grows into a grin. “I think this thing between us has been more than either of us have been able to admit because we’ve had other things going on- school or hockey or-”

“Other girlfriends?” You supply teasingly, when he trails off, like he’s afraid to mention her name.

He nods. “There’ve been other boyfriends, too.” He nudges you, just as teasing.

“There have.” You admit, because it’s not a lie, but none of them have ever worked out, for a variety of reasons, but you can’t help but think, that now that he’s mentioning it, Morgan might have been a part of those other reasons.

He’s back to smiling again when he continues, leaning against you slightly. “I think we owe it to ourselves to see what we could be.”

You lean back against him. “You do, do you?”

“I do.” He nods.

“Little early for that, don’t you think?” It takes a second for your joke to land, but once it does, he cracks up and it brings a smile to your face.

“We are at a wedding.” He grins, nudging you playfully. “Who knows, maybe someday it’ll be ours?”

-----

a bit in the future

It’s one of those beautiful sunny days where the sun is shining with a light breeze where you feel like you could be outside for hours.

Unfortunately, you’ve got a huge project due at the end of the week, so while Morgan’s been enjoying the lake all day, you’ve been sitting at a table on the dock, staring at your laptop, tapping away at your keyboard, and ignoring his increasingly annoying calls for attention.

It’s harder to ignore when he comes up next to you, wrapping his wet arms around your shoulders. “Morgan.” You try to shake him off. “Come on, gimme like ten minutes and then I’ll come in.”

“Promise?” He asks.

“Yes.” You say because if you can get this one last thing done you’ll be ahead of your goal for the day.

It works; Morgan sits down next to you quietly, scrolling through his phone for a bit, and then, jumps up and runs inside the cabin, and you jump on the opportunity of quiet to get ahead even further, losing yourself in your next bit of project.

“Hey,” Morgan says casually, and it scares you a bit, his return far quieter than he’s been all day. “What are you doing the weekend of July 8th?”

“I don’t know, that’s like a year away!.” You snap, turning to tell him to stop annoying you, only for your jaw to drop when you see him down on one knee.

“Want to get married then?” He says, a twinkle in his eye and a grin on his face, like he’s been waiting for this reaction, like it was everything and more.

“Oh my god! Are you serious?” He slips his hand into his pocket and pulls out a ring; you gasp. “Morgan!”

“Will you marry me?”

“Yes, oh my god, yes!” Your computer long forgotten in the face of an engagement ring, you throw yourself at Morgan, who catches you easily, like he was prepared for this. He probably was. He knows you better than anyone; he’s your best friend and so much more. He barely manages to slip the ring on your finger before you’re kissing him. “I love you!”

“I love you, too.” He grins. “Are you sure you’re ready to take this jump with me?”

“Of course!” You beam, but it hits you just a minute too late. He’s already jumping in the water. “You’re the worst.” You sputter out at him, purposefully spitting lake water at his face.

He doesn’t even look like he minds. “For better or worse.” He grins.

“That’s not what that’s referring to!” You splash him and he splashes back but before it can devolve into a full on splash attack, he’s pulling you into his arms.

“I mean it though.” He says, kissing you again. “And I’ll tell you again, next summer, at our wedding.”

Our wedding. The words sound almost unreal, too good to be true. “I’ll be the one in white.” You promise. “Or, well, maybe ivory.” You say and it’s hard to kiss Morgan then when he’s laughing so hard.

#morgan rielly #morgan rielly fanfic #morgan rielly imagine #hockey fanfic #hockey fanfiction #hockey imagines #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagines #my hockey fics

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brittle-bone-gabe · 4 years

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Hypochondriac

Summary: Eddie had grown up with an overbearing mother, unfortunately for him the issues she’s caused him followed him into adulthood, Richie just wants to try to help. Pairings: Adult Reddie (Richie x Eddie) Read on Ao3: Here

Hypochondria is defined as: an abnormal anxiety about one's health, especially with an unwarranted fear that one has a serious disease. Unfortunately for Eddie Kaspbrak, he would be considered to be a hypochondriac. He didn’t see it, but everyone else could see it, and the Losers could definitely see it since they were kids. It wasn’t Eddie’s fault though, as his mother, Sonia Kaspbrak was the reason he was like this to begin with, pinning an issue on her son that wasn’t even his fault.

When Eddie was five-years-old his father had sadly passed away from cancer, not long after that, Eddie came down with bronchitis and had to stay home for awhile until he started to feel better. Sonia had been terrified since then, thinking it was some sort of bad luck on their family; cursed with illness. Eddie couldn’t really remember the details about it, he just remembered that he was forced to go to the doctors a lot, like, at least twice a week a lot. He could remember back at his childhood home they had a kitchen cabinet just filled with medications, so filled that if you opened it they would start to fall out. The moment Eddie found out the pills he had been taking were placebos he would refuse to take anything his mother gave him to treat his “illnesses”. If he got sick he would go to the pharmacy himself to get cold medicines that would help him.

While it was a strange case of a childhood trauma, it was still childhood trauma nonetheless. Sonia used this kind of treatment to control him, to make sure he couldn’t just leave the house when he wanted to, to make sure he would stay home with her so nothing on the outside could hurt him. And if that didn’t do it, she would guilt trip into staying; like when Richie and Stan wanted to go outside to play she would give Eddie the look. Pleading with him to stay, to take care of her since she suddenly wasn’t feeling well. Of course, Eddie couldn’t leave his mom behind to suffer, so he would say he couldn’t go out.

Having this trauma stick throughout his life made everything difficult for Eddie, as everything had to be cleaned, everything had to be perfect, anything dirty had to either be cleaned that moment or get thrown out. Germaphobe was another word that Richie would use to describe his husband. Laundry had to be done three times a week, if they were out they couldn’t sit on their bed with the same clothes they left the house in, and the moment they enter the house they have to wash their hands. It was a hard arrangement for Richie to get used to, but if it made Eddie feel better... then he had to do what he could.

Richie was minding his own business one Saturday afternoon, he had his feet kicked up on the coffee table, his laptop on his lap as he was typing away. Since he had started writing his own material he’s been on the computer a lot more, he had deadlines now. Deadlines. When did he ever had to deal with deadlines? Never. The whole concept was foreign to him. Everyone was always breathing down his neck about his material too: we need it soon, Richie; how’s the show coming, Richie?;do you just want us to rehire your writer? Hell no, he could do this himself.

“Fucking... finally!” Richie yelled out loud to nobody in particular, finally pressing save on his document file as he finished up his next round of material. The first time he tried writing for himself he forgot to hit save, so five hours to writing and planning when down the fucking drain.

Richie could hear Eddie’s footsteps coming up from behind him. He leaned his head back on the couch to watch him walk from down the hallway towards the living room. His husband had that look on his face like he wasn’t in the mood to joke around; he was very serious.

“Hey, Eds! Guess what!” Richie still asked, a huge smile on his face.

“Get up,” was all Eddie said as he moved past him to get to the closet by the front door.

Richie was confused at first, not sure what he was talking about or what was going on, but that didn’t stop him from making a shitty joke.

“Already there, baby,” he said, winking at his husband when he turned around to face him as he was scowling at him.

Eddie turned back to the closet, pulling out a spray bottle before walking up to Richie who closed his laptop, tossing it next to him on the couch. He opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted when Eddie sprayed the water that was in the bottle at his face.

“Oh, what the fuck?!” Richie said, standing up quickly, taking off his glasses. He tried cleaning them off from his shirt, but since his shirt was wet too it was just making it worse. “Eds, what the hell?”

“I’m deep cleaning the couch,” was all Eddie said before going back to the closet.

Clean...? The couch? Was that something people did?

“Why?” He asked, plopping back down, “it’s not like we fuck on it. I mean, I would love to, but you won’t let me,” Richie rambled, moving his laptop to the coffee table.

“Richie... please get off the couch,” Eddie said, walking back up to him while holding onto a box of baking soda.

“What’s got you all wound up?”

“I read this thing online,” Eddie started to say quickly that Richie zoned out for just a moment, trying to wrap around what he was saying, “that the couch is the most disgusting piece of furniture a person could own.”

“I keep telling you, you read this shit online and get all worked up for nothing,” Richie started.

“I mean, it has to be true, right? At least to a certain degree...” at this point Eddie was muttering to himself, looking from the floor back up to Richie who still hasn’t moved from his spot on the couch. “Please move.”

“No. Not until you-” Richie couldn’t even finish his ultimatum before Eddie pushed him off the couch. “Hey, that was rude,” he said, sitting up on his elbows, looking at Eddie who was sprinkling the baking soda all over the couch. “What the fuck did you read this time? I want to see it,” he said, pulling himself up from the floor.

Eddie just shook his head, going back down the hall to find the vacuum cleaner. Grumbling under his breath, Richie followed close behind his husband, trying to get him to spill whatever it was that was bothering him. Once Eddie was in one of these episodes it was hard to pull him out of it, would this be considered to be a type of anxiety attack? No... Well... maybe. Certainly had something to do with OCD, something that Richie swore Eddie had but he wouldn’t listen to him. Yeah, worrying about germs to a certain degree could be normal, but not like how Eddie felt about germs.

“Eds, just let me see what you read,” Richie tried again, “it’s really not that ser-” he stopped himself. Even though Eddie wasn’t officially diagnosed with OCD that didn’t stop Richie from researching it, learning what he should and shouldn’t say to people who have that mental illness. “C’mon, Eddie, think about how far you’ve come. Remember when we first moved in together and you made sure we had two different blankets and I wasn’t allowed to touch yours? Now you hog the fucking blanket.”

“I don’t hog the blanket, moron,” he said, attempting to yank the vacuum cleaner out from the closet in the hallway. “Can you get this out for me?”

“No. I want to see what got you so worked up.” He put his hands on Eddie’s shoulders as he was pulling his phone out from his front pocket. “Let me see.”

Eddie held his phone out of reach as he unlocked his phone to find the “article” that he read earlier. “They wrote about all the bacteria that live in the couch, Richie. It- Hey!” He whined when the taller man plucked the phone from out of his hands, skimming the article. “Stop!”

“Did you read the whole thing?” Richie asked him once he reached the bottom of the page.

“...yes... maybe... no. Why?”

“The person who wrote this isn’t, like... someone who’s qualified to write shit like this, I never even heard of this site before. Where did you find it?” Eddie shrugged, still struggling with the vacuum. “C’mon, we’re not doing this.” Grabbing his shoulders again, Richie moved Eddie away from the closet, the smaller man complaining the whole time as he was moved into the kitchen, his back to him.

Why didn’t Richie understand that what he was feeling was real? He was scared to death of the possible illness the infectious bacteria could case. He wanted to protect himself, no, he mainly wanted to protect Richie from getting sick. How upset he would be if Richie got sick and passed away like his father did? Fuck, Eddie would never be able to forgive himself if anything happened to Richie.

“Why won’t you just listen to me?!” Eddie exploded, stepping away from Richie’s grasp. Richie was stunned, yeah, Eddie would sometimes playfully yell at him, but this time he knew he was being serious. “I’m just- I’m...” He wrapped his arms around himself, breathing heavily going into what felt like a panic attack. “I can’t breathe...”

Eddie’s limbs felt numb, like he wasn’t even in reality even more. Wait, was this even real? He forced himself to look down at his hands that he now held out in front of his face, moving them side to side to make sure they were actually his hands. The sudden pain in his chest made his panic attack worse, he was feeling dizzy like he was about to pass out. Oh, fuck. I’m having a heart attack, Eddie thought as he tangled his fingers through his hair as he kept breathing heavily.

“Eds? Hey...” Richie said calmly, wrapping himself around Eddie, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. Eddie moved away from him, not wanting to be touched right now, as he was in the middle of panicking.

“Don’t touch me...” he mumbled, stepping away from Richie, holding onto himself again.

Richie nodded, understanding that, as when he was having an anxiety attack he didn’t liked to be touched either.

“What can I do?”

“I need my.. my...” Eddie couldn’t even finish his sentence, tears were burning in his eyes as he was trying to find the ability to breathe.

“Inhaler?” Eddie shook his head, trembling slightly, “want your anxiety meds?” He nodded. “How about you go sit on the couch-... the... chair. I’ll grab your pills.”

Spinning... everything’s spinning...

Eddie thought he was going to pass out again, he couldn’t find anything in the environment to use to ground himself back into reality.

“...Eddie? Eddie,” Richie tried again when he didn’t say or do anything.

The sound of Richie’s voice managed to snap Eddie out of whatever trance he was in. He spun around, looking up at Richie who had a small, sad smile on his face. That was Eddie’s grounding point; he studied every detail of Richie’s face, how his soft, slightly curly hair laid on his forehead, the crinkles around his eyes as he smiled, the glare from his glasses lenses... Goddamn he was so fuckin’ cute.

“You...” Eddie reached up, squishing Richie’s cheeks, catching him off guard, “are so. Stupid. I love it. I love you.”

“Uh... Thanks, Eds. I love you too.”

“You just comfort me, even though you just... talk so fucking much.”

Richie couldn’t help but laugh at that, wrapping his hands gently around Eddie’s wrists that were still on his face.

“Is this okay? Let me know if you don’t want-”

“No!” He said quickly, closing his eyes as he was trying to steady himself from the horrible dizziness surrounding him, “I’m dying...”

“No, no, you’re not dying.” Richie moved his hands up to cover Eddie’s smaller hands. “Wanna go lay down? I can get you your meds, okay?” He nodded in response before Richie laid his hands on his shoulders, turning him around as they walked back to their room.

The walls in the hallway felt like they were closing in on Eddie, causing him to panic even more. He wanted to scream, he wanted everything to just go away. The only thing that was keeping him sane right now was Richie rubbing his back and giving him words of reassurance. You’re doing great... We’re almost there... I’m proud of you, Eds...

How’d he get so lucky?

Richie was about to pull the cover and blankets back on Eddie’s side of the bed, but remembered that last time he did that Eddie didn’t like that, feeling like he was confined. Instead, he helped him into the bed, watching him as he settled in so he was comfortable.

Richie had no idea how he got so lucky to end up with Eddie. They haven’t- no, they had forgotten each other for years, just to end up back in Derry for... some reason, and all those feelings that Richie forgot flooded back. Thankfully he managed to overcome his fear of rejection to basically blurt out his true feelings for Eddie just before he was leaving for the airport back to New York. Apparently he had filed for divorce before leaving for Maine, pushing everything through so he was basically a free man even before he managed to get back home. He left everything back with Myra, starting a new with Richie. The best decision he had ever made in his entire life.

“How are you feeling, Eddie?” Richie asked after sitting next to him on the mattress for a few minutes, he had been watching Eddie’s face twitch with his eyes shut tight while trying to control his panic attack. He reached over, booping his nose to get his attention, and he finally opened his eyes.

“I don’t want you dying, Rich,” he said, looking up at him with sad eyes.

Richie’s face scrunched up in confusion, not sure what he was talking about. “Wh..what? Why would I die?”

“Ever heard of sepsis?”

Of course I’ve heard of sepsis, you never stop talking about it. Was what Richie wanted to say in response to that, but he decided, for once, to keep his mouth shut. Maybe he hasn’t been handling the whole OCD thing the correct way. Maybe he’s been invalidating him and that’s why he was sent into a panic attack. Oh fuck, was this fault?

“I... think I’ve heard you mention it before,” Richie finally settled on saying, reaching over to Eddie’s night stand to grab the orange RX bottle that contained his anxiety medication. He held the small, white, oval pill out to Eddie who had the talent of being able to take pills without a drink. Eddie looked at the pill then back up to Richie, looking worried. “What’s wrong, honey? Isn’t this what you needed?”

“Where’d you get that from?”

“Oh, uh...” Richie rattled the bottle that was still in his hand, “this.”

“I want to see it.”

This is the same pill you take everyday, Eddie. You know what it is.

“Sure, here,” Richie once again stopped himself from saying what he was thinking, choosing the best route to help Eddie as he handed the bottle over. He watched as Eddie was reading the area of the label that describes exactly what the pill looked like; size wise, color wise, even what was printed on the pill.

“What’s on it?”

Richie let out a quick sigh, holding the small pill up so he could see it. Hell, even with his glasses he could barely make out what was on it.

“One side says FL... I think the other side says 20.”

Satisfied that the pill Richie was trying to give him matched up with the bottle he took it from him, taking it instantly. Honestly? It made Richie cringe watching him take meds without a drink, it was unnatural, but growing up taking pills his whole life must’ve made it easier to do that.

Even though Eddie was with Richie and knew that he wouldn’t do anything to hurt or trick him horribly, he was still scared of being given placebos again. He was scared of being lied to, of being told he was sick but truly wasn’t, he just wanted to be normal.

“Sepsis can really fuck you up,” Eddie continued, leaning back in the bed, closing his eyes again, waiting for the pill to kick in, “if you get an infection, sometimes your body can overreact when trying to fight the infection.” Richie just nodded along, letting Eddie go on to talk about whatever he needed to get off his chest. “It can cause organ damage and eventually organ failure.”

“Huh... that sounds scary.”

“I don’t want you to die of sepsis, Richie.”

“I...” He paused, trying to pick his words carefully, “I really appreciate that, Eds. Bacteria can cause it?”

“Bacterial infections are the main cause, actually. That’s why I wanted to clean the couch, I don’t want you to get sick. I was... just trying to protect you.”

Well, that broke Richie’s heart. And now he felt like an asshole.

“You’re so sweet, Eds.” Richie leaned down, planting a kiss on his forehead. “Always lookin’ out for me; the best husband.” He couldn’t help but smile when he saw Eddie’s cheeks turn pink.

“S...shut up, dick.”

“Mmm... no,” he crawled over Eddie, plopping down on his side of the bed. “I love you, Eddie.”

“I love you too.”

“Can I hold you?” He asked, looking at Eddie who still had his eyes closed.

“Mhm,” he breathed, rolling over so his back was facing Richie, who wrapped himself around the smaller man, holding him tight against him. “Richie?”

“Hm?”

“Do think I’m annoying?”

“Yeah, but not because you’re worried about germs. You just have a loud mouth.”

“I have a loud mouth?!” Eddie turned around quickly, looking at Richie who had a huge smile on his face. “You can’t ever shut the fuck up!”

“So noisy.” Eddie groaned, scooting away from him. “No, wait, I’m sorry. You’re a... moderate loud mouth. Quiet until provoked.” He started running his fingers up and down Eddie’s back, feeling small chills running through his spine.

“You’re the only one who provokes me, you ass.”

“It’s how I show I love you. Just like how you say-”

“Beep beep, Richie.”

“Thank you. Exactly.”

They were silent for a while, taking in the peace of being in each others company. Feeling Richie’s arms draped around him felt nice, like everything was real, like he was real, that everything was going to be okay. Richie... Richie was Eddie’s comfort blanket, he knew that for a long time but couldn’t find the exact phrasing to describe it. It was as if Richie knew when he was about to go into a panic or anxiety attack and would take charge, making sure he was okay, making sure he had everything he needed, trying his best to help. Sure, sometimes Richie didn’t say the right things, but he was trying and that’s all that mattered.

“How’re you feelin’, Eddie?” Richie asked, burying his face in his back.

“Better, thanks to you.”

“Good.” The moment the words left Richie’s mouth, he sat up, swinging his legs off the edge of the bed before standing up, leaving Eddie very confused. “C’mon, Eds.”

“What? Where are we going?” He asked, sitting up, feeling a bit loopy from the anxiety meds kicking in.

“You wanted the vacuum cleaner out, right? To deep clean the couch?” He asked from the hallway, yanking it out from the closet. “Its been about twenty-minutes. I think it’s ready.” When he turned around he jumped, not expecting Eddie to be standing right behind him. “Jesus!”

“It’s super easy to deep clean, Richie,” Eddie started quickly, taking the vacuum cleaner from him, “after you put the baking soda on the couch and let it sit you just vacuum it off and it’s done.”

“Oh, well... that’s pretty easy,” he responded as he followed him through the living room.

He stood back by the TV, watching Eddie running the vacuum cleaners brush all over the couch, making sure all the baking soda was cleaned off. Okay, to be fair, this process was a lot easier than Richie had expected, thinking they had to buy some special cleaner or something. If that would’ve been the case, however, Richie would’ve gone out right away to get whatever Eddie needed to make him feel better. He would done anything for him.

While he was doing that, Richie went back to the closet in the hallway, he reached all the way back, grabbing the worn out blanket that they never used. If there was anything Richie could do to make Eddie feel better he would do it in a heartbeat. So he had the perfect idea.

“There! It’s done,” Eddie announced proudly.

“Good job, baby,” he said, reaching over to give Eddie a kiss. “I have an idea to keep the couch cleaner.” He dropped the blanket over the couch, covering the back, tucking it into the cushions. “So now you can just wash the blanket.”

Eddie wrapped his arms around Richie, hugging him tight. He wasn’t used to people trying to understand what he was feeling, in fact, he was used to people telling him it was all in his head, that he was overreacting, etc. Richie was always different with him though, he would always try to accommodate with him to make sure he was comfortable, helping him through his thoughts and panic attacks. Hell, Eddie would remember that Myra would purposely mess things up, make them dirty just to get on his nerves then practically laugh and wonder why he was so upset. Yeah, Richie made jokes, but he was starting to understand when his jokes were going too far and take it back, making sure everything was okay with him.

Richie couldn’t help but chuckle as he just thought of a joke. “Hey, now that we have the blanket on the couch can we fuck on it now?”

“Absolutely.”

“Really?!”

“...fuckin’ not.”

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easyfoodnetwork · 4 years

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How One Chef Is Feeding LA’s Hospital Workers, 100 Enchiladas at a Time

The idea of comfort food has become a cliche, but for those working the front lines at hospitals, a well-prepared meal makes all the difference

One afternoon in late March, the chef Josef Centeno made 100 enchiladas. First, he simmered 10 pounds of chicken thighs in an improvised Japanese-style curry made with chorizo spice, yuzu kosho, dried chile powder, and dashi, while on the side, he grilled bolting cauliflower from a local farm. Then he warmed corn tortillas in hot oil and became a one-man assembly line, filling them with the curry and laying them seam-side down on the full-sized sheet pan. Finally, a blanket of fontina and Tex-Mex cheese turned the enchiladas brown and crispy in the oven.

This motherlode of enchiladas was handed off to some friends who took them to a doctor at Cedars-Sinai. There were 61 new cases of the novel coronavirus reported in Los Angeles County that day; the hospital had just set up a triage tent outside. “It’s gonna start getting bad I’m afraid,” Centeno texted me. The things he was hearing made him want to help, so he did the thing he knew how to do: cook.

Centeno was one of the first chefs in Los Angeles to close down entirely after the city ordered restaurants to shift to takeout and delivery only. While operating in takeout mode, he returned again and again to the question of the virus, and how easily it was spreading — it was safe for the people ordering, but less safe for the staff making their way to work every day. “I would feel terrible for the rest of my life if I was having people work, even though everyone wanted to work, if they went home and got their grandmother sick or son who has asthma sick,” he says. “I told everyone to file for unemployment [right then], because by [the following] week, it was going to be a shitshow.” Many of his employees were able to get unemployment, before, yes, everything became a shitshow. “Every day, we find out a little more, and it’s a little bit worse.”

The day after he decided to close, he gave away produce and extra cooked food to staff and friends, first from his restaurant Amacita in Culver City, and later from his four restaurants clustered in downtown Los Angeles around a corner he’d remade starting in 2011. Centeno was already cooking big batches of his ranchero chicken to give away, and when he heard about the doctors, nurses, and staff working endless shifts as they treated COVID patients and prepared for the oncoming wave, he wanted to provide food that could, even for a moment, transport hospital workers out of the crisis they were facing. “Restaurants have always been an escape, and that’s what I know how to do.”

After that first batch of enchiladas, Centeno started cooking by himself twice a week with a nonprofit called Dine11, one of the many charities that have popped up to feed hospital workers in Los Angeles. Dine11 was started by longtime friends and collaborators, actor Lola Glaudini and costume supervisor Brooke Thatawat, who had friends in the restaurant and hospital world and saw they both needed help.

Centeno’s prep work for a batch of meals designated for hospital workers

Unlike some of the bigger nonprofits, which are sending massive meal orders to the city’s best-known hospitals, Dine 11 doesn’t work with chains or big restaurateurs. Instead, its focus helps mom-and-pop restaurants and some smaller restaurant groups bring in enough money to survive the citywide shutdown, while sending food to the smaller hospitals in Los Angeles that are missing out on larger charities’ attentions. Dine11 uses the money it’s raised to place a takeout order at a small local restaurant, which boxes it up according to hospital safety protocols. The restaurant puts the food in the trunk of a volunteer driver, who takes it to the hospital. Then, the volunteer texts their contact at the hospital, who picks it up from the truck without any contact.

Glaudini says restaurants are finding Dine11 organically; she’s getting 20 to 30 emails a day from people who want to be involved. For many smaller restaurants, the kind run by families or people who would call themselves cooks, not chefs, closing down doesn’t feel like an option. Dine11 can’t keep them in business long term, but it can give them a lifeline of another week. And every restaurant Dine11 works with is required to adhere to safety standards (masks, gloves, frequent wiping down of containers and surfaces) that help keep workers safer, too.

Centeno cooks meals for Dine11 in between designing face masks for friends and family and custom-dyeing garments he’s selling to raise money to keep his workers on their health insurance. He uses donated vegetables from Thao Family Farms, his own dwindling stock of ingredients (like an order of eight 22-pound bags of rice he placed right before the pandemic hit), and whatever else he can get his hands on. He cooks alone, because he believes that’s the only safe option right now. “It’s been kind of Zen,” he says. “I’m just by myself, listening to music.” Centeno isn’t taking money from Dine11 for himself or to cover ingredients; the founders say he’s asked them to donate the money directly to the GoFundMe he set up for his employees. To cover the restaurants’ last payroll, Centeno dipped into his personal savings fund, which he is relying on as long as his restaurants remain closed.

For the takeout meals, Centeno is mixing Japanese and Tex-Mex flavors, which he says work surprisingly well together. A recent rice bowl came together like this: ground beef from the freezer, which he stewed with dashi to make a picadillo, plus mustard greens and kale from Thao Farms cooked with Peads & Barnetts bacon, served over brown rice. Centeno topped the bowls with shaved fennel and pistachio dry salsa. Even though he was working by himself, and not in the rush of service, he still has been running behind. “I did a lot better than the week before, when I was like an hour late.”

The idea of comfort food has become a cliche, but the emotional succor a well-prepared meal can offer is real, especially in times of true need. Medical workers need to eat, but what they really need is to feel supported, and that’s a role meals made with precision and creativity like Centeno’s can play. “Our responsibility as culinarians is to take care of people,” Centeno says.

Katy Kinsella is an emergency physician at Kaiser in Panorama City and a friend of Dine11’s co-founder Thatawat; her hospital has received several deliveries from Dine11. At the hospital, according to Kinsella, workers are anxiously waiting for the pandemic’s peak to hit in Los Angeles. Kinsella’s hospital is seeing COVID-19 patients on a daily basis, anywhere from four to 18 a day, many of whom come in very sick. “It can tax the lungs and they end up getting pneumonia; once they end up with a breathing tube, they don’t do well,” Kinsella says. “There’s no infectious disease that we’ve had here in the United States that’s felt anything like this. You can’t help but think, that could be me.” Friends at hospitals in New York and Detroit are completely overwhelmed. Kinsella worries for them, and for herself; she worries she might carry the virus home to her family. The food that comes from Dine11 fuels a long and harrowing shift, but its emotional impact is much more important. “It’s just nice to know that people care and recognize what we’re doing.”

The fear of what the pandemic might bring doesn’t stop Kinsella from showing up every day; she’s proud to do her job. What a meal prepared by a chef or local restaurant does is create a sense of normalcy — that care that Centeno wants to convey. “When we have to give people bad news, we feel it too. Having a meal and feeling the support of our community makes us feel like we’re not in it alone.”

Kinsella says she likes getting food from Dine11 because they’re building a model to support local restaurants, which she knows are hurting. “Food is my favorite thing in the world, and it’s weird to have all these restaurants closed,” she says. “We were trying to support local restaurants with takeout, but it’s not the same thing.” Glaudini and Thatawat believe that boosting the morale of health care workers is essential, but they know there are lots of groups out there feeding hospitals right now. They’re trying to focus on making sure the efforts help restaurants, too, whether that’s by partnering with places that are really in need or having delivery volunteers so the restaurants can keep all of the money, rather than giving a delivery service a cut. “We want to spend our money where the need is greatest,” Thatawat says. “And that’s the smaller businesses and local businesses that we love.”

Centeno does not know if the cooking is helping him cope with the collapse of his industry, but he does find meaning in feeding those who are putting their lives on the line. He knows he’s not alone in struggling right now — he sees it happening to every single one of his peers. Like a lot of other chefs who own a small enough number of restaurants where they occasionally still find themselves washing dishes or hopping on the line, he’s not used to standing still.

“I guess I’m in bulldozer mode,” he says. “Every day, I can’t believe the restaurant industry is gone; it’s vanished, and what is it going to come back as? I’m trying to figure out how to readjust, because the whole model has been turned upside down and put in the recycling machine. I worked 30 years and lost it all in 24 hours.”

from Eater - All https://ift.tt/34JRzQn https://ift.tt/3adfJ74

The idea of comfort food has become a cliche, but for those working the front lines at hospitals, a well-prepared meal makes all the difference

Centeno’s prep work for a batch of meals designated for hospital workers

from Eater - All https://ift.tt/34JRzQn via Blogger https://ift.tt/2VccsR4

#Blogger #cooking #Eater #food #recipes

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theparadoxmachine · 5 years

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Update

I’m finally back home and chilling for a while before I go back to work. The headaches are at a minimum now, and I just took the last of my prescription antivirals.

So here’s what happened.

Friday I woke up with an absolutely awful headache. I just assumed it was one of the headaches I get and go to work. I had been off my herbal antidepressant for over a week because of the steroid I was taking for my shoulder bursitis, and I assumed the steroid was causing everything. I woke up Saturday and still had a headache. I called my mom and asked if she’d be willing to take me to the urgent care clinic Sunday. That night I woke up every hour or so and threw up. The next morning I told my mom we should go to the emergency room instead.

We get the the ER and they tell me I am hella dehydrated (duh) and have a UTI. ...’kay....They load me up with several bags of fluids, give me antibiotics, tell me to take tylenol for my head, and send me home. But I’m still not keeping anything down, the anti-nausea stuff is a dissolvable tablet so gross that it’s just making the nausea worse, and the headache isn’t budging.

My mom called the urgent care place that sent me to the orthopedist who prescribed the steroid. At this point, we’re still thinking the steroids are causing this. Urgent Care hears that I have a headache, I’m vomiting and can’t turn my head, and says no, you need to go back to the ER. I make sure to emphasize that I have had an ungodly headache for 4 straight days at this point. This time I see an actual doctor and not a PA and he sends me for a CT scan and does a spinal tap.

Now let me pause and say that the spinal tap was hands down the worst part of this experience and holy shit I do not ever want that to happen again, and I probably am going to have to have another this week and holy shit I don’t want it.

So anyway, that’s when they tell me I have meningitis. I still have a UTI but everything I’m complaining about is caused by the meningitis. They take a bunch of blood trying to figure out why I have it.

Now let me be clear, since this literally showed up on my dash today. There are a few different types of meningitis. The most common and most dangerous is bacterial meningitis. There is a vaccine for it which I have received. What I have is VIRAL meningitis, which there is no vaccine for. They’re still not sure how I got this.

Needless to say, they admitted me.

At one point while I was in the hospital, I took a shower. As my mom was helping me back into a hospital gown, she noticed I had a rash on my back.

It was shingles. I got goddamn shingles.

Shingles is basically when you get chicken pox as a kid, then when you’re an adult, the virus suddenly comes back to life to come in and kick your ass. Fortunately I was on like 8 different drugs so I didn’t feel it at all. But interestingly enough, the hospital seemed way more concerned about me spreading shingles around than the meningitis. I kinda get it, but it was weird to see my nurses go from wearing masks to wearing masks and gowns.

Anyway, because I still had a migraine and now had shingles, my infectious disease doctor sent me for an mri to make sure nothing was wrong with my brain.

They found something wrong with my brain.

I have something called Arnold-Chiari malformation Type 1. Basically, where your brain meets your spinal cord, there’s a funnel shaped structure where your brain sits in the funnel and your spine comes up from the bottom. Well, instead of just sitting in the funnel, my brain is sinking into it. It causes headaches, poor balance, tinnitus, spinal herniation, all kinds of stuff. It’s not immediately life threatening but it’s serious enough that we need to do something about it, which means surgery.

So as soon as I’m done with the meningitis, I have to have brain surgery.

So let’s assess. I have had scapular bursitis, a UTI, meningitis, shingles, and need brain surgery all in the span of about a month.

I swear to any and every god that if my coworker ever calls me “sweet summer child” ever again I am going to give him a goddamn swirly.

#long post #personal #i keep telling people I'm cursed #they never believe me #i'll keep you guys posted #i'm back home and doing okay #i had to stay at my mom's a few days #that's a post on its own

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osmw1 · 6 years

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Poison-Wielding Fugitive Chapter 21

“Hmm?”

The bulletin board area in the town square feels too calm today. It seems like there are far fewer adventurers taking up quests. For some reason, the weather’s been getting more oppressive day by day. You could say it’s even driving people out of this village. The inn’s proprietress is in a poorer state than ever and her cough getting worse.

‘Aye, certainly… there is a remarkably smaller presence of adventurers.’

Veno agrees with me. So it wasn’t just me then.

‘Moreover, there are more people coughing too.’

Hmm… maybe they’ve all gone to a faraway dungeon or something. I go check the bulletin board, but there’s still quite a few requests up. There really are fewer adventurers out and about…

The apothecary hasn’t posted anything on the board for the past few days either. When I went over to be nosy, I found Arleaf’s dad in the back of the store, making some kind of potion. Perhaps he got all the ingredients he needed from me.

I know Arleaf just got back too. Maybe her dad sent her away again to harvest herbs. If not, I would’ve liked to invite her to come adventuring with me. I wonder what she’d think of Muu.

‘I am not impressed with you showing off Muu.’

I didn’t say I was gonna show it off. I just wanted them to get along is all. I mean, I came to this fantasy world and was told that I had people after my head. Arleaf’s just a breath of fresh air. But I’ll admit, it’s every guy’s dream to see a cute girl play with their pets.

‘Honestly… I am appalled and speechless.’ “I could be worse!” “Muu?”

Well… this village wasn’t really lively and there weren’t that many quests to begin with. Guess there are off days too, eh? Since I had the time, I replenished my poison stock and made more varieties. I even hunted for a bit before I went home and chilled. Night fell. Muu and I were tending to our weapons when there was a knock at the door.

“Yes?”

Is that the proprietress? I answer the door. There Arleaf stands with a troubled expression on her face.

“Arleaf? What’s wrong?” “Sorry for visiting so late, Yukihisa.”

I invite her in.

“Something you need to talk to me about? My room’s a bit barebones but come in if you’d like.” “Oh. Thanks.” “Mu?”

Upon seeing Arleaf, Muu nods to greet her.

“Good evening.” “Mu.” “I have heard from my father. This must be the homunculus that you have created, Yukihisa.” “Oh, uhh, yeah. Its name is Muu.”

News of Muu spread quick. Arleaf looks at Muu in the eyes, sits down in front of it, and holds her hand out.

“My name is Arleaf. I’m an acquaintance of Yukihisa’s.”

Oof. Hearing “acquaintance” hurts a little. Yeah. We’re just acquaintances. I get it. Well… it’s not like we got to know each other well. We’ve only chatted for a bit on my first day here, so we’re only at this stage.

“Arleaf, you were out trading with nearby villages, right?” “That is right. I was out delivering medicines my father had made… and I was also purchasing ingredients needed to make them too.” “What’s up then?”

Objectively, her and I are just acquaintances. I’m quite a bit older than her too. She doesn’t really have much of a reason to visit me in my room. If she had a request for me, she could tell the proprietress to pass on the message. But to visit me in person? I can’t think of any reason for her to.

“Right… the truth is that I have something I need to ask.”

Something you need to ask? What’s that?

‘Perhaps she has found out our true identities. We must take care of her and escape at once.’

You’re jumping to conclusions. Veno begins detecting presence of anyone possibly nearby. As he does that, he pings and highlights every single person close to us. Cut that out already.

“You wouldn’t happen to have a poisonous herb called Red Deathfire on you, would you? An urgent need for it arose… I have heard from my father that you venture deep into the swamplands and so I dropped by unannounced.”

Arleaf has a sullen expression on her face.

“Huh?”

Red Deathfire? Do I have any of that?

‘Aye, you do have Red Deathfire. It is the herb that you found in the dungeon, is it not?’ “I do have some, but…” “I-In that case, please sell it to me! However much money you ask for!” “Uhh… it’s a pretty dangerous plant, you know? Could you at least tell me how you’ll use it?”

In any case, it’s always the apothecary buying up and using these shady herbs. No matter how much of a good person Arleaf may seem to be, I can’t just hand over these toxic herbs over so easily. If it’s my fault that anything bad happens, we’ll be in a world of hurt.

“As you adventurers know already, the villages around here are afflicted by an epidemic and the disease is only growing.” “Huh?!”

Now that you mention it, the proprietress has been hacking her lungs up for a couple of days now. I thought it was a cold, but… I guess even the adventurers are trying to run away from it. That’s why it was so quiet today.

“We have been trying our best to make enough medicine, but we have run out of the necessary materials… and… my mother, she’s…”

Arleaf’s hands are clenched tight, trembling. She was merely putting on a brave face earlier. It sounds like her mom came down with the epidemic. Her dad is frantically compounding more medicine, but I guess he doesn’t have enough ingredients. Is that why she went out to buy and sell with the other villages? Perhaps she needed to urgently buy medicine to fight this disease.

“Even though she looked fine three days ago…” “She suddenly got worse…” “I assume the proprietress of this inn caught the same disease?”

… the proprietress did get sicker recently. It was so bad for her, she even needed Muu to help out around the inn.

“… yes. This area is usually often plagued by illnesses, but rarely is it this bad.”

Hmm…

“I understand. I’ll provide you with some Red Deathfire, but is that going to save everyone?”

Her expression doesn’t get any better after hearing my question.

“I’m afraid that wouldn’t be possible. My father says people will get better when they do. The most they can do is to leave it up to the gods.”

She answers worriedly. Veno, Red Deathfire really can be made into medicine, right?

‘Ahh, it may be a dangerous herb, but if properly handled, it can be turned into potions. Nothing the girl said is wrong.’

That’s a relief. Then I have no good reason to say no to her.

“I might have other herbs you may need as well. Can I lend a hand?”

Even with everything I said about being ready to leave, I’ve made this village my base of operations for a while now. Not that I have a particular attachment to it or anything, but everybody so far has been nice to me. I hope that none of them succumb to this disease. Arleaf’s dad is able to make the medicine as long as he’s got the ingredients, so I’ll just hang around in case he needs anything else from me. Or maybe I should go out and harvest some more.

“But…” “Besides getting me a good rate for this room, you’ve helped me out lots already. Can’t I?” “… okay.”

I get up from my seat and get ready to head out.

“Right now’s a good time, right?” “Yes. Then please come with me. I’ll try asking my father.” “Mu!”

We made our way to Arleaf’s home posthaste.

It’s the same store as usual, but… it’s eerily quiet. I don’t hear the sounds of Arleaf’s dad making medicine. Taking a break maybe? Arleaf puts a frown on her face and hurries to the back of the store.

“Father?!”

I follow behind Arleaf to find her dad collapsed on the ground face-up. Various ingredients lie scattered, including the marphina I’ve brought over.

‘He was saying he would prepare himself for the sickness… I see. Certainly, marphina would serve well in this compound. It should soothe even particularly bad symptoms.’ “Father! Are you alright?!”

Arleaf rushes over to carry him up.

“Ah, ahh… that you, Arleaf? Cough, cough. I d-didn’t expect the illness to get to me. Sorry, but could you get me up? I’ve gotta hurry and mix more medicine.” “B-But…” “If the doctor goes down first, there’ll be no one to save the village. Cough…”

His wheezy breathing seems to aggravate his cough, but he returns to work with a determined look on his face. He finally notices me and looks up.

“Ahh, Cohgray.” “I might have some ingredients that would be of use to you, so I invited myself along.” “That right? Thanks for that. Arleaf’s still fine, so I’ll get her to pay you afterwards, if that’s fine with you.” “Th-That’s fine. Here, I heard you needed this.”

I brought out the Red Deathfire wrapped in cloth and handed it over to Arleaf’s dad.

“Ahh… with this, I can make the medicine. It… should be effective… on Bloodflower.” ‘… Bloodflower?’

Hearing the name, Veno responded. You know something about it?

‘All humans are susceptible to this infamous contagious disease. Once acquired, the patient will develop a flower-like bruise on their chest. The petals on the flower will disappear one by one. And when all petals go, so too shall the patient. This Blossomfall, as some may call it, has a high-mortality rate.’

Whoa, hey. Contagious? This ain’t a joke! Having been born and raised in Japan, I’ve never faced any major infectious diseases, but I know I’m in a real dangerous situation right now.

‘Aye, its infection rate is high, although it takes quite some time to succumb to Bloodflower. Only until one develop any visible symptoms is it painful and hard to treat. Some say it is a flower of blood that tells your death.’

So, it doesn’t visibly appear until the disease really gets to you.

‘This is, after all, a village near a swamp where miasma often hazes over. It is not unusual to have a few infected. With the right medicine, one can recover surprisingly quickly from it. You need not worry.’

How about dragons?

‘So what if I catch this?’

Guess you’ll be fine. Well, since you’re a Poison Dragon, this kinda stuff can’t really affect you, right?

‘It is not out of the realm of possibility for me to fall ill, but I do not acquire diseases. Truth be told, I am quite interested whether you will or not. It is a question of life or death, after all.’

Luckily, I don’t show any signs of having Bloodflower yet. Maybe I haven’t even caught it yet. Even if I do have it, I have no choice but to hope Poison Absorption to work.

‘In that case, it would not be possible for you to acquire this disease.’

…? How do you know?

‘That is because—’

As Veno was just about to explain it to me, Muu calls out in a worried tone.

“Muuu…”

This must be an urgent matter. Muu looks up towards me.

previously: /ch001/ /ch002/ /ch003/ /ch004/ /ch005/ /ch006/ /ch007/ /ch008/ /ch009/ /ch010/ /ch011/ /ch012/ /ch013/ /ch014/ /ch015/ /ch016/ /ch017/ /ch018/ /ch019/ /ch020/ /ch021/ /next/ (full list of translated chapters) (discussion thread on Novel Updates) (please support me on Patreon or Paypal)

#Poison-Wielding Fugitive #PWF #Average Translations #AvgTL #osm #毒使いの逃亡者 #一般の英訳 #ln #light novel

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phgq · 3 years

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It’s more frightening sans Covid-19 vax, front-line survivor says

#PHnews: It’s more frightening sans Covid-19 vax, front-line survivor says

MANILA – When opportunity knocked on her door, a medical front-liner and breastfeeding advocate who beat the coronavirus disease 2019 (Covid-19) grabbed the chance to get inoculated with the vaccine without any hesitation.

Being a Covid-19 survivor, Lovelinne Veronica Ramos said the vaccine gave her solace as the country continues to grapple with the pandemic.

The vaccine, she said, could provide the public immediate protection against the coronavirus.

“We need immediate protection, and it’s here,” Ramos, who works as a nurse at the Eastern Visayas Regional Medical Center in Tacloban City, told the Philippine News Agency (PNA) on Thursday. “The best vaccine is the one that is available. Mas nakakatakot ang walang proteksyon (It is more frightening if you do not have any protection).”

Workers in front-line health care services topped the roster of the government’s priority groups for the inoculation of Covid-19 vaccines to reduce their risk of catching the coronavirus.

The Philippine government began its free immunization campaign on March 1, a day after 600,000 vials of the CoronaVac vaccine developed by China’s Sinovac Biotech arrived in the country.

Ramos took the first shot of CoronaVac on March 7 and did not experience any side effects, noting that she even proceeded with her daily routine of breastfeeding her one-year-old child, Addie.

“I just got my vaccine last Sunday. I didn’t feel anything. Parang wala lang. And I immediately breastfed my baby pagkauwi ko ng bahay (It is as if nothing happened. And I immediately breastfed my daughter when I returned home),” she said.

Ramos takes the chance of getting inoculated with Covid-19 vaccine.

New hope

Thorough research and pieces of advice convinced Ramos to receive the CoronaVac, despite reports that it has a lower efficacy rate among front-line health care workers like her.

Results of clinical studies disclosed that Sinovac’s CoronaVac only has a 50.4-percent efficacy rate when administered to medical personnel exposed to Covid-19.

Ramos, who already recovered after contracting Covid-19 in June last year, added that her daughter is the main reason why she decided to get inoculated with Sinovac’s vaccine.

“Now that a new hope and another protection has arrived, as a breastfeeding mom, after I read some research about the vaccine and advice from doctors, I didn’t hesitate to take the shot. I got vaccinated,” she said. “I feel stronger now and lalong lumakas loob ko because mapu-protektahan ko not just myself but my little Addie as well (I’m now more confident because I can now protect not just myself but my little Addie as well). My child owns every bit of my heart and I love her more than my life, thus I am giving it all and fighting for a healthier and brighter future for her.”

Don’t be discouraged

Ramos told her fellow Filipinos not to get swayed by the findings on Sinovac vaccine's efficacy, saying it is not enough reason to hesitate or refuse to be vaccinated.

She said the public should consider other factors that could influence them in taking the Covid-19 vaccine jabs.

“It’s important that we are informed. It’s not the efficacy lang naman ang importante (Efficacy is not just the important [factor when considering to get inoculated with the vaccine]),” she said, adding that the public should not believe people “who know nothing about the vaccine.”

Trust the government

Even after her recovery from the coronavirus, Ramos knew that Covid-19 remains a real and present threat to the country.

She urged her fellow Filipinos to heed the government’s appeal to get inoculated with Covid-19 vaccines to curb the spread of the disease.

She also told them to trust the Philippine officials whose ultimate goal is to keep the public safe from Covid-19.

"Trust our institution. Have a little faith in our government, na hindi sila magbibigay ng vaccine na ikakasama natin (they won’t provide vaccines that would harm us),” Ramos said.

The Philippine government aims to inoculate up to 70 million Filipinos this year to achieve herd immunity, which is an indirect protection from an infectious disease when a population is immune either through vaccination or immunity developed through the previous infection.

Ramos makes sure she always adheres to the government's call to observe strict health protocols.

Observe health protocols

While the country can secure Covid-19 vaccines, Filipinos should never let their guard down, Ramos said.

Strict health protocols, she said, should be followed at all times even after the country kicked off its mass vaccination program.

“It doesn’t mean naman na we won’t be practicing safety precautionary measures na por que may vaccine na (It doesn’t mean that we won’t be practicing safety precautionary measures just because there’s already a vaccine). We can’t be complacent,” she said.

Working as a nurse, Ramos always wears personal protective equipment to protect herself against Covid-19.

Protect babies via breastfeeding

Despite her busy schedule, Ramos finds time to breastfeed her baby.

She advised her fellow moms to continue breastfeeding their babies to protect them against Covid-19.

“Continue breastfeeding. Breastmilk (does) wonders,” Ramos said.

According to a report by the World Health Organization (WHO), breastfeeding helps protect newborns throughout their infancy and childhood.

Breastfeeding, the WHO said, is effective against such infectious diseases as Covid-19 because it strengthens infants’ immune system by directly transferring antibodies from the mother.

A mother who is Covid-19-positive can still breastfeed her baby, so long as she wears a face mask and washes her hands before holding her child, based on the guidelines issued by the Department of Health. (PNA)

***

References:

* Philippine News Agency. "It’s more frightening sans Covid-19 vax, front-line survivor says." Philippine News Agency. https://www.pna.gov.ph/articles/1133373 (accessed March 12, 2021 at 05:17PM UTC+14).

* Philippine News Agency. "It’s more frightening sans Covid-19 vax, front-line survivor says." Archive Today. https://archive.ph/?run=1&url=https://www.pna.gov.ph/articles/1133373 (archived).

#Philippines #News #Filipino #Pinoy #Tourism #Politics #Culture #Editorial #Environment #Society #History

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micebrandy29-blog · 5 years

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I was in denial that I had Tuberculosis

Again, I’m sharing my experience with having active tuberculosis. Nothing I say should be construed as medical advice. Please speak with your doctor if you suspect that you have an infection. All of what I’m sharing is true to my own experience with TB so please do not take any of it as medical advice.

This is part 2, it turned out to be so long so I broke it into two parts. If you haven’t read part 1, yet, you should click or tap over to I had tuberculosis.

I will say, the entire stay at the hospital, I was in total denial. I didn’t believe that I had tuberculosis. I framed everything as in if I have it, if they know what my illness was. It was always an if.

I remember when they first came into that hospital room and told me, I said, “I need to call my pulmonologist.” I did call him before I left my first hospital room and begged his front office to put him on the phone because I was freaking out. He got on the phone and told me, “Well, I’m the one who called them. We sent samples from the bronchoscopy and the preliminary tests came back showing tuberculosis. I had to alert the hospital.”

My husband wanted to know more details and just wanted to figure out what we could do and what our next steps would be. He even tried calling to talk to my doctor, he had left a message but after a couple of hours of not hearing back, he actually drove over to his office.

I love my doctor because he’s hilarious without trying to be and his very matter of fact manner. He kept telling Curtis to calm down and that everything was going to be okay.

We were both so scared. In one way, it was reassuring to hear this and on the other hand, we didn’t feel like everything was going to be ok.

Side note: I had a routine visit scheduled this past December with my pulmonologist and he said you look good. You have come a long way. Before I left, he was standing next to me and gave me a side hug.

I texted Curtis afterwards and said my doctor hugged me! Gosh, I don’t know if they know how I appreciate him and his staff so much.

While in the hospital, I was treated by an infectious disease specialist. He was a doctor who specialized in infectious diseases and especially had experience with tuberculosis. He told us that had worked for the state for a time working on their TB protocol.

He had a great bedside manner and spent a bunch of time with us answering our questions. I’m really grateful to him because he explained how tuberculosis is treated and how the patient is treated.

He told me that I was going to have to deal with the health department, that they would actually come over to my house and watch me take my medication. If I refused to take my medication, that I would be arrested and admitted to a hospital, probably one in south Florida, where they would force me to take my medication.

He mentioned the names of the medications I would be taking and he told me that I would be taking them for at least six months. He told me I was lucky because in the past it was up to a year on those medications! I can’t even imagine that! Even looking back, I can’t imagine that.

He explained that it’s a disease that is pretty old and there are laws in the books that say the government can make you take the medication for it.

Side Note: When this doctor found out that I wrote about food and photographed food for a living, he told me I had to try this Thai place near his office. He would rave about this place. We went that summer when I started to feel a little bit better and we loved it. I just ate there again yesterday with friends!

Frustrating times in the hospital

During my stay at the hospital, a couple of situations occurred that were really frustrating.

One morning, I woke up and my fever was back in full force. I wasn’t hallucinating, but I was starting to feel really delirious, and it made me feel really scared that I wasn’t going to get any better, that I was getting worse.

I was shivering and shivering, but then also sweating and not feeling really great. I also wasn’t able to think straight. I remember one of the nurses came in and said, “I’m going to be back in five minutes with your medication,” and I remember looking at the clock and it was 7 A.M.

I fell asleep again because I was so delirious, and I woke up again at 10 A.M., and there was my nurse with the medication. She gave me my Tylenol and within a half an hour, my fever broke and I was feeling so much better. That’s when I started feeling really angry because I should’ve had my medication three hours before. It was so frustrating and it made me think of people who are much sicker than I am in hospitals all over.

What I learned: You have to be firm but nice. Even if you have to ask for something over and over again, do it. Be persistent. Keep track of your medications yourself and when your last dose was and when your next dose is supposed to be. Be your own advocate and if you can’t be (because you’re sick and it’s hard to be your own during that time), you need someone who you love and trust to be pushy for you.

The first night in the isolation room, they brought me the medication to treat tuberculosis. No explanation of the medications or what they were. They said, here take this. It was four different medications and a vitamin.

They were:

Rifampin Ethambutol Isoniazid Pyrazinamide Pyridoxine

A couple hours after my first dose, the nurse came back to check on me. I had just gone to the bathroom and I was freaking out because the toilet bowl was orange and I probably shouted, “Something’s wrong! I think I’m bleeding.”

I mean it was dark, so I couldn’t tell that it was orange, it looked red or purple to me. The nurse asked me, “Are you on your period?” and I looked at the nurse thinking, “Okay, I’m a grown woman. I think I’d know if I was on my period.” It was just laughable that she would ask me that.

The next day, one of the respiratory therapists told me I could request the names of the medications and the information sheets on them. So I did and when they brought the sheets in, the respiratory therapist reviewed them with me.

It turned out that Rifampin actually turns your bodily fluids orange. That was a fun experience especially since I had to take it for six months. (That’s sarcasm! LOL There needs to be an emoji for sarcasm…)

Every few hours, a nursing assistant checked my vitals and each day they drew blood to run tests and also listened to my chest. Some of the doctors and nurses could hear a crackling noise in my chest, some of them said they didn’t hear anything and that I sounded fine. LOL

I could hear a creepy creaking noise in my chest. Sometimes I would hold my breath to see if it would stop but it didn’t. I kid you not, it sounded like creaky stairs in my chest and someone was walking on those stairs making them creak.

I had friends visit me in the hospital. Everyone that entered the room had to wear a mask. I felt grateful they wanted to go to all that hassle to visit me in the hospital. And I couldn’t help but get emotional every time someone visited me.

I was still in denial it was TB. I felt vulnerable and tired. My family wanted to visit but my closest family lives over an hour away. I didn’t want to burden them with having them come to visit.

My Mom was sick with a cold (I think) at the time and I didn’t think it was a good time for her to visit. And I felt guilty and worried that I might have exposed any of my family and friends that I had been around during the last few months.

At a certain point, I began to feel better and asked to be taken off of the pain medication because it was an opioid. So that’s when they switched me back to Tylenol for my fever.

My attending physician mentioned to me that once I didn’t have a fever for 36-48 hours straight, I could go home. On Saturday afternoon (day 3), I was feeling much better. I had asked them to unplug me from the IV machine and cover my arm so that I could take a shower (which they had done every time I needed to shower).

When I got out of the shower I had decided that I was going to put on pajama pants and a t-shirt instead of the hospital gown. I was feeling much better, and I sat there for a few hours and no one came back to plug me back into the IV machine.

I wanted to go home

At that point, for a couple of days now, I had been taking oral antibiotics, so the only thing that was coming through the IV was saline water. I was talking to the respiratory therapist and I said, “I don’t really think I need this IV anymore,” and she said to me, “Well, you can ask them to take it out.” I said, “I can?” and she said, “Yeah, you can refuse it.”

That’s when I decided to call the nurse. When she arrived, I asked her to remove my IV. She was insistent that I shouldn’t do this and said, “We advise against this, we don’t really want you to take it out, we think you should keep it in in case something else happens.”

I could tell my respiratory therapist wasn’t looking at me, she didn’t want me to shout out to the nurse that she had told me I could refuse the IV. No way was I going to do that.

You don’t do that. I don’t know how many times I have said this but you don’t sell out someone who is helping you. (Of course, as long as they aren’t harming someone else or doing something illegal.)

I told the nurse, “Well, I refuse this and I want you to remove the IV.” The nurse came over and pretty much yanked it out of my arm (it really hurt when she did it) and told me to put my hand over it. Then, she left.

We were sitting there for a little while and she looked down at my arm and said, “You’re still bleeding. She didn’t bandage your arm?” I said no, “she had told me to place my fingers on my arm and never came back to bandage my arm.”

That’s when my respiratory therapist started looking at a first aid box (or was it a supply box?) that was in my hospital room and there were no bandages or gauze. She then left the room, having to go through the whole procedure and again once she returned with a bandage for my arm.

One night during my stay, I couldn’t sleep. Another patient down the hall wouldn’t stop yelling and screaming. When my nurse entered my room, I asked about the yelling. She told me they were ignoring him.

They won’t let me leave the hospital

At this point, I had started asking the nurses that came into my room if I could see a doctor to discharge me. The response, “Well, your doctor’s not here, your doctor’s off for the weekend.”

Being persistent, I kept calling the nurses’ station. At one point I said, “I’d like to speak to the head nurse,” and they responded with, “We’re trying to get your doctor to approve it.”

Then, at one point, the head nurse actually came into my room and said, “We can’t let you go. No one will discharge you, no one is here.” Basically, the answer I got was that they’re short-staffed on the weekends and they don’t really do discharges on the weekends.

They told me that the physician treating me wanted to confirm with the infectious disease specialist my prescriptions before discharging me.

It just boggled my mind, I was sitting there in my pajama pants, no IV in my arm, and watching T.V., and I felt like I was in a really overpriced hotel room at this point. I just was really frustrated and wanted to leave. I felt so stir crazy because I couldn’t leave that room.

Side note: I watched the Cinderella (live action) movie on tv in my hospital room, it was my first time watching that movie. I bawled when Cinderella’s mom told her to have courage and be kind. It sounds so cheesy but I felt like her character was speaking directly to me.

Curtis would come visit me and stay with me for the whole day but like I mentioned earlier he had to go home at night and take care of the pets. He would spend a lot of time looking out the window and say, “You have a really nice view.” I responded by saying, “I don’t care.”

To this day, I can’t even tell you what it looked like out there because I didn’t even want to look out the window. I wasn’t allowed to leave the room so I was frustrated.

The next morning (which was Sunday), I saw my doctor and he said, “I’m really sorry you couldn’t leave yesterday, we had to get your medications straight.” They gave me prescriptions for the five medications and I was able to go home.

That afternoon, on the way home, a dear friend of mine texted me asking how I was and if I had received the flowers she and a couple of other friends had sent me. She had paid for them to be delivered to my hospital room.

I told her that, “No, I didn’t get any flowers.” She responded by saying that she would reach out to the florist the next day (Monday).

She spoke to the florist and the florist even called me. The flowers were delivered by her husband on Saturday afternoon. They left it at the nurses’ station but I never received them. She sent him back to the hospital on Monday. The nurse that signed for them told him I don’t know what happened to them, I think they were delivered to the patient.

He then went outside and called his wife and she told him to march back in there and tell her she would need to pay for the flowers since they were never delivered to the patient. He suggested to his wife to put together a new bouquet so he could deliver it to me at home. She said no way, you need to go back in there.

He went back inside and told the nurse what his wife told him to say. They scurried around looking for the flowers and turns out it was in a linen closet. We all wondered how they got there. He delivered them to my house and I was so grateful.

Kindness and Thoughtfulness Matters

At first, I thought it best to not make a big stink about this…but then when you think about it, my dear friends had taken the time to send me beautiful flowers because they were thinking about me. They wanted me to know that I was loved and that they cared.

When someone has a serious illness, these tokens of love and thoughtfulness mean so much. They really do. Especially at a really vulnerable time and you’re not feeling your best.

It’s hard to not think that the flowers were purposefully not delivered to my room because I was being persistent about getting discharged.

While I was in the hospital, I did google tuberculosis on my phone. Most of the sites that popped up were about TB symptoms and treatment. I only found a couple of firsthand accounts. They were aid workers and got sick in faraway countries and came home to the U.S. to be treated. One of them had to be quarantined for months and she became depressed. The other case was so serious that she had to have parts of her lungs removed.

There were times in the hospital that I was really scared. I had moments where I wondered if I was going to die. So when my friends thought of me and ordered flowers and whoever at the hospital decided they weren’t going to take the time to deliver them to me, it just pissed me off.

But more than that, it upset me. If it could happen to me, it could happen to others.

Curtis took me home from the hospital when I was discharged and then went to the pharmacy to fill the prescriptions. The pharmacy only had 4 of the 5 medications. I later found out that a month (or two?) supply of these meds costs upwards of $2000.

We were lucky to have good insurance at the time and paid a total of $200 in copays for the meds they did have. I took the medications that night and Curtis went to a different location to pick up the fifth one.

The health department calls me

On Monday morning I received a phone call from a gentleman who works for my county’s health department. He told me that he had in front of him results from the state’s TB lab. He told me that I, in fact, had TB and that the hospital should have called the health department.

And that he would have seen me in the hospital. The entire time, he was just shocked that the hospital didn’t call him. Then, he told me that the health department would be handling the medications, they would be bringing the medications to me, and, just like the infectious disease specialist told me in the hospital, that they would deliver my medications and watch me take them.

He told me to throw away the $2,000 worth of medicine we had just bought the day before. He told me that I couldn’t use it as they are supposed to dispense the meds directly. I was so grateful that we had insurance and that we hadn’t just shelled out $2,000 for medicine you can’t return.

But $200 is still $200 and we wouldn’t have spent the money and wasted these medications if the hospital had called the health department like they were supposed to. I wouldn’t have received those prescriptions if they had called. And maybe I could have left the hospital a day earlier.

One of the things I learned on the call was I was to be quarantined for two weeks. I needed to stay home and stay away from people with compromised immune systems, children and babies. When I was in the hospital, they asked me over and over again if I had children. Now I knew why.

He told me I could take walks but that I should generally stay home. They understood that I would have follow-up appointments with doctors so during the quarantine period, I would need to wear a mask when I went to a doctor’s office. But the main thing was I should avoid areas or rooms that are not well-ventilated.

I remember framing everything again with an if. If I had tuberculosis, if the final tests come back as TB, were we sure that I had tuberculosis? I was told in the hospital that I would take eight weeks for a full culture to come back with a definitive result of positive for active tuberculosis.

That made me think, there’s a chance I don’t have it! But looking back, I know that didn’t make sense, my hoping it wasn’t TB. Which meant I was hoping they were wrong and didn’t know why I was sick. Because active tuberculosis is highly contagious, they don’t wait the 8 weeks to find out. If initial tests come back as a possible positive, they make you take all of the medications to treat you for TB.

I asked what percentage he was certain that I had tuberculosis. He told me 97%, that he was 97% sure that I had TB.

I had to do a series of tests. I had to give the health department regular sputum samples. I’m sorry if this sounds gross. I had to inhale deeply and try to cough from the bottom of my lungs and then spit into a cup.

Once I had a couple of consecutive negative tests, the quarantine would be lifted, which meant that I was no longer contagious.

Why health departments are tasked to watch TB patients to take their medicine

The reason health departments are on TB patients to take their medicine, they shared with me, because once they are not contagious and when they start to feel better, in the past, they would stop taking their medications. Which is bad news since you’re taking antibiotics. This would create a resistance to antibiotics.

During the time I was quarantined, I talked to my therapist over the phone and did our sessions that way. I’m grateful to her and having the ability to talk to a third party about what I was going through. It helped me process it which looking back was a saving grace.

Every day, except the weekends, they came over and gave me my medication. (On Fridays, they would give me enough medication for the weekends for me to take on my own.)

At first, I was taking 10 pills a day. But at the two week mark, I was allowed to opt into taking 21 pills twice a week instead of the 10 pills a day.

The nurses at the health department were always nice. When they came over, we would sit on my couch and chat while I was taking the medicine. They would ask me how my day was going, answer any of my questions and chat with me like they were my friends. But I know their sole purpose in coming over was to deliver my medications and watch me take them.

The medicine made me so sick. Actually, I get emotional thinking about that time because I could barely eat and I could barely do anything. It just made me feel overall ughhh. I spent a lot of time on my couch. When I could, I would watch Netflix. I rewatched every West Wing season (the best TV ever), I watched the Newsroom for the first time and I even watched all of the episodes of the OC.

I went to see both my primary care doctor and the infectious disease specialist as a follow up to the hospital stay. One of my doctors told me that basically, I was going through a chemotherapy treatment. It was four very strong antibiotics and a vitamin (because one of the antibiotics strips your body of vitamin B6).

I remember my primary physician telling me that I needed to let my body heal and I needed to be gentle with myself. I was getting so frustrated that I couldn’t work and I was getting frustrated with my body. Through it all, she was very nice and I remember that day I was bawling in her office, she gave me a hug.

I even had a nice chat with her after the whole chest x-ray fiasco before I ended up in the hospital. Something happened with my chart and it never made it to her desk to call me with the radiology report. She took full responsibility for it and even apologized.

She even gave me her cell phone number for whenever I needed it. I remember texting her the night I was in the ER…asking her what I should do. She did respond and told me that I should let the hospital admit me and figure out what was going on.

Back to the meds, they made me really sick. Since I was on twice weekly, the medications made me feel sick for a couple of days. When I would start to feel a little bit better, it would be time to take the next dose.

I opted for Mondays and Thursdays and pushed them to come as late as possible in the afternoons. Having them come in the afternoons left me with two mornings a week where I would feel a little bit better and I would try to get some work done.

One of the other milestones I was waiting for was to see if the strain of mycobacterium tuberculosis that I had was antibiotic resistant or not. They told me once that test came back as negative, I would be able to remove one of the medications.

In total, I was unable to work for four months that year. Early on after I came home from the hospital, I had an impending deadline for a client. This client was understanding and kept telling me that it was ok and I could take my time. I was really late turning in my work but they were accommodating. They have no idea how much it meant to me that they were flexible and understood that I was really, really sick.

One of the regular things I had to do besides taking the medications was to get regular bloodwork done. One of the medications can affect your liver and they wanted to track that.

I had to get an HIV test

When I first talked to the health department, they told me they needed to test me for HIV. If I was HIV+ then the treatment for TB would be different. I assumed I wasn’t HIV+ but the anticipation waiting for the test results was not fun.

A couple of weeks went by and they didn’t mention the HIV test results. I was in close contact with the health department, talking to them several times a week. So I finally asked about it and they told me that the lab complained they couldn’t run the test because there wasn’t enough blood in the vial.

It was frustrating dealing with the health department

So I returned and a different person from the health department took my blood sample. She asked me which arm she should use. I told her my left arm. One of the things I do when I have to take a blood test is I don’t look at the needle, I just make sure they’re wearing gloves and then I look away.

At one point, she mentioned that there was no blood coming out. And the vein had collapsed. I looked down and she had actually stuck the needle into the same vein as where my IV was from the hospital was placed, and that vein had not healed yet. That arm was looking really gross. I told her this and she said let’s try your other arm.

She had to stick me three times to actually draw blood. It was excruciating. I never had a problem with blood draws until that year probably because I had to have blood drawn so many times. It’s hard for me to get blood drawn today. I wiggle around and I try not to get anxious but it’s hard not to!

So of course, after that, I talked to my primary care doctor and she wrote me a standing order for all of the blood work that the health department needed and some extra tests. It was great, because then I can pick where to go to get my blood work done. I went to the place I usually go to, the lab I mentioned earlier. It doesn’t hurt when they do the blood draws.

Same thing with my x-rays and my CT scan when I had to get another one done. My pulmonologist did the order. I used my health insurance to help pay for these tests. I could have done it through the health department and it would have been covered by my county or my state but doing it through my insurance I could pick where I wanted to go and not have to deal with some of the ridiculousness.

Side note: During that time, I found out that I’m vitamin D deficient. Like dangerously deficient. I take a prescription supplement every other week now and it helps my energy level tremendously and I don’t get weird muscle cramps anymore!

Over time, I realized that I needed to stop questioning whether I had TB or not. Even if I didn’t fully believe in this diagnosis, I was starting to feel better. I was coughing less and less.

Not that I was trying to deceive them but I knew I needed them to know that I would be in compliance. I was taking my medicine and actually in the end, never missed a dose the entire six months I was being treated.

I was given another patient’s medications

I think it was May, a Monday or a Thursday, one of the nurses arrived from the health department to give me my medicine. After a month or two of getting meds from them in an orange bottle with my name handwritten on it, they started bringing my medication over in a little plastic bag that had my name, birth date and medications and dosing on it.

You tear it open and just take the medication. I know you have seen ads for this service on TV and on social media. I have!

I have a placemat on my coffee table and I always sat in the same spot on the couch when they came over. They always sat across from me and would have a casual conversation which was always disconcerting because I know they were watching me to make sure I took my medicine.

I always tore open the packet and would let the pills drop onto the placemat. Some of the pills were pretty big so I would take them one at a time. When I was taking 21 pills, it felt like it was going to take forever to finish them all. (Over time, when I would hit certain milestones or time periods and they would remove a medication or lessen the number of pills. Towards the end, I was taking 8 pills twice a week.)

I would always hold the little plastic packet with my name on it and play with it with my fingers, moving it up and down and twirling it. That was just a nervous tick I had.

At one point, it didn’t seem to register fast enough in my brain for me to spit it out. I had realized this wasn’t my pill packet. It had someone else’s name on it. And then it registered and I could blurt out, “These aren’t my pills!”

She said, “What?” I replied saying my name isn’t on there, there’s someone else’s name on this pill packet.

She had no idea how it happened and was flummoxed. She probably shouldn’t have told me but she mentioned that this other person was double my size and had more pills in his packets than I do.

She looked at the pills that were left on the table and calculated in her head the ones I had already taken. And she said with confidence (although I don’t know if I believed her) that I had only taken what was prescribed to me and what was left on the table were the pills I didn’t need or shouldn’t take.

I was pretty gobsmacked that I was given someone else’s medications. My level of frustration with dealing with the health department only grew. Again, they were very nice people but I was still frustrated.

In June, I kept asking them for the final culture results. I knew the 8-week mark was coming up. Every time I saw them or talked to them on the phone, I asked them for the results. It was probably annoying them because every chance I got, I asked them if they received the results yet.

I’m talking about that original sample that was taken out of my lungs by my pulmonologist. The state lab had cultured it and I was waiting for that final result.

Finally, I got the results, they handed me the paper that said Julie has TB. Not exactly that way but you know what I mean. This was weeks after the 8-week mark, by the way. The date on results was dated three weeks earlier. To say that I was mad was an understatement. But what could I do?

Towards the end of June, it was nearing the halfway point for my six months of treatment for TB. So I started asking, what is the date of my last dose? I wanted to know so I could put it in my google calendar! I love looking forward to a certain date. I get to count down, I guess you could say.

They kept giving me the runaround. They kept telling me it depends on different variables and what if I missed a dose? I told them, I haven’t missed a dose yet and I don’t plan on it. All of the nurses kept avoiding the question when I asked about the date of my last dose.

So finally, one afternoon, the nurse who had accidentally given me the wrong meds called to ask about what time she could come over with my medication. I told her that I have been asking for my end date. She started telling me the same thing that everyone else said.

I finally said, “You know, honestly, I’m not a child. I totally get that things could change, but I just kind of want the date and I’m really frustrated because I had asked for that final culture for weeks, and then I finally get it, and the date on the report says three weeks ago.

The other thing is, the other day you came over with someone else’s medication, I never told your boss about that. So, I just really want a date. Just give me an end date, I know it might change.”

She responded by saying, “Okay, let me see what I can do.” She gets off the phone and her boss calls me back ten minutes later. He says, “Okay, here’s the date, it might change,” and I said, “I know, I just want to put it down in my calendar.” When I counted how many doses, it wasn’t the exact date that I thought, but it felt good to me to have this final date. I thought to myself, okay, this is when I’m going to start feeling better.

June was a big month, I started traveling again. I went to Boston for a blogger retreat and it was so fun to be among friends and “co-workers” again. I started to feel like I was coming back to the land of the living.

Because I hadn’t missed a dose meaning I was compliant, the health department was able to give me a cell phone that had wireless service. The only thing you could do on the phone was take a video of yourself taking the medicine and upload it to a server that my health department had access to.

I had to take a selfie video showing them the pill packet with my name on it and showing them each pill in the camera as I took it. This was great because I didn’t have to meet them twice a week in my living room anymore. And I could take the medication as late as I could which meant I could actually eat dinner!

Side note: another reason why I love technology!

For a long while, I don’t remember exactly how long, I slept in the guest bedroom. I didn’t want to get Curtis sick. I felt a huge amount of guilt because the initial blood test showed Curtis had been exposed to TB. They ordered a chest x-ray and didn’t see any TB infection in his lungs via the x-ray so they gave him the all clear.

I was told that consistent and close contact with a person with active tuberculosis (who is contagious) is how someone else could “catch it”. My mom and a couple of siblings who live closest to me were tested and they all came back negative. But it wasn’t a surprise to anyone when Curtis tested positive for TB exposure.

He’s my spouse and we share a bed together so while I was contagious, he had close and consistent contact with me. Again, I’m so grateful that he never got sick.

I’m so glad he didn’t have to be quarantined and miss work for 2 weeks+. But because he was exposed, he had to take Rifampin for 4 months. I felt terrible because that’s the medication that turns stuff orange. I know. Ugh

Aside from the medications wearing me out, a lot of the time I felt too sick to eat. I had a nauseous feeling in the pit of my stomach for most the time I was on the medications. And one of the medications caused joint pain. The joint pain thankfully stopped a few months after I finished the medications.

I finished my tuberculosis treatment in October 2016. I had another chest x-ray ordered by my pulmonologist that December and it showed my lungs were healing.

I was told by the health department that I would probably have scarring in my lungs and if someone was trained to see it, they would be able to see the scarring in my lungs via x-ray.

I was diagnosed with an immune deficiency

In December 2016, my allergist (who is also an immunologist) diagnosed me with Mannose-binding lectin deficiency. Finally, I had an answer. All along, everyone said I didn’t fit the profile of someone who could have active tuberculosis. That it didn’t make sense. That something in my history had to account for why I was not able to fight off the dormant TB any longer in 2016.

I kept asking my doctors for answers on what my something was. What was that something? My doctor ran a battery of blood tests and discovered the deficiency. He told me that a lot of doctors don’t know about this deficiency so they wouldn’t be likely to run this test.

It just means that I have a deficiency of an immune system protein. I’m more susceptible to upper respiratory tract infections. I’m more susceptible to pneumonia and meningitis. Likely caused by a genetic mutation, I was told there’s nothing they can do about it.

There was something I could do though, I was advised to get both pneumonia vaccines as well as the one for meningitis. Over the last couple of years, I have gotten all three of those vaccines.

It took over two years for my body to heal after I completed the medications but even after being given the all clear from the health department, I had what seemed like an unshakable anxiety about getting sick. About being around sick people.

I could feel the anxiety materialize when I heard someone near me have a coughing fit. I was constantly worried that I would get sick.

Because when I get bronchitis, it always takes me longer to get better than anyone else around me. And I got it pretty much every year. So the immune deficiency diagnosis made so much sense. As a child, I was sick a lot.

Every few months, I would feel more of my energy level coming back. I would think I’m all better now. I’m ready for whatever comes next and then a few months later, I would feel even more energized.

I realized that my body had to heal and I had to give it the time and space to do so. But during that time, I wanted to rush it. I was tired of being sick and tired of being tired.

Where I’m at today

If you have stuck with me this long, thank you…I know these posts are so longgggg.

Today, I try really hard to listen to my body. Sometimes, I’m not very good at listening to it but I am better about it than I was 3+ years ago. I really try hard to rest and drink a lot of water. I don’t share food or drinks with anyone.

I try to do yoga regularly and I try to keep my stress level down.

A couple of the most important lessons I learned was that you quickly find out who your real friends are and what truly matters.

What matters most to me are my friends who care so deeply, friends who want what’s best for me and who support me. What matters to me is that I live authentically and only share with you the things that I love but at the same time, share with you what’s going on and being real.

It’s interesting how there were little things that used to bother me before my illness and I could give a crap about those things now. And there were things that I didn’t prioritize but I prioritize them now.

From the friends who had flowers delivered to the hospital and the ones who showed up in my hospital room and wore a mask and sat and chatted with me. Even though, I didn’t know what to say and couldn’t stop crying because I was so scared.

And the friends who sent us a gift card for groceries. And to the friends who sent us food, even though I couldn’t enjoy it in the moment, it mattered and I appreciate them for it.

I remember telling one of my sisters’ years ago, we have been through so much. We can get through this. I tried to channel that feeling and those words even in my darkest times during my illness. And there were dark times.

For a long time, I really wanted things to go back to the way they were. But I know now that it’s not possible.

Now I try to take time and pay attention to what I need first. Which means staying hydrated and getting enough sleep. And that means saying no more often than I did in the past. Saying no more means I will have energy for the things that are most important to me.

In November 2016, I talked to my doctor about this constant neck and back pain I was having. After an MRI showed I had a herniated disc in my neck and several bulging discs, I realized I have to work even harder on lessening my stress even more. Even not getting enough sleep, causes muscle spasms in my neck and back.

Everything has changed and I can’t go back. I learned so much from this experience, about myself and about others. And today, I can honestly say I wouldn’t change a thing.

Everything has changed and yet, I am more me than I’ve ever been. –Iain Thomas

The last lesson that I learned and wanted to share with you is to always ask for copies of test results, reports and imaging. Today, I always ask for ultrasounds, x-rays, scans on a disk so I can keep and if needed, I can take to another doctor. Sometimes, doctors and nurses are taken aback because they are not used to patients asking for copies of everything, even a negative test result. But I tell them, it’s a habit I have developed after having active tuberculosis.

Stay Connected

Source: https://www.thelittlekitchen.net/i-had-tuberculosis-part-2/

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fictional-before-real · 7 years

Text

You’ll Just Have To Prove Them Wrong

@damereyevents summer exchange:

for @micsmays1031

The prompt I chose was ‘Rey as a new pilot for the Resistance under Poe’s wing.’ What I actually did was ... roughly 7500 words leading up to that. I will be continuing this soon, but in the meantime, here goes. Comments, prompts and constructive criticisms are all welcome!

The first time Rey met Poe, they were celebrating. Finn had talked about him, of course, but she hadn’t had the pleasure of meeting the infamous pilot that had Finn all abuzz. And now that she was finally meeting him, Finn was in the infirmary and they had no idea when he’d wake up.

All of the higher-ups were standing around in the control room. Poe was on one side of General Organa, Rey was on the other. Poe gave BB-8 the data chip with the map, and the droid projected it into the air, fitting it perfectly with the map R2 was already projecting.

“The map—it is complete!” one of the techs exclaimed.

Instantly, the room was ringing with laughter, shouts of joy. Rey just barely heard General Organa softly say, “Luke.” Her face showed relief, the lines that were normally stern relaxing for just a moment.

The energy of the room was infectious. Pilots, mechanics, and officers alike were patting each other on the back, riotous shouts filling the air. Rey spun around with a smile on her face to hug Finn, forgetting that he wasn’t there. Instead, she wound up pressed against the man she knew to be Poe.

“Hi,” he said, looking down at her with a grin, but a hint of nerves in his voice as well.

“Hi,” she replied, out of breath from the sudden feeling of being this close to another person.

“I’m Poe Dameron.” Poe said awkwardly, stepping back to run his hand through his hair.

“I know,” Rey said before she could think better of it. She coughed to hide her blunder.

“I see Finn’s been talking me up.” Poe’s grin was a bit more sure now, and Rey felt herself relaxing in the safety of it.

“I’m Rey.”

It was Poe’s turn to say, “I know. Everyone knows the name and face of the girl who saved the Resistance with the help of a defected Stormtrooper and two smugglers no one has seen in years. Also, I heard you beat the shit out of Kylo Ren, and I have a vested interest in all things relating to Kylo Ren getting the shit beat out of him.”

Rey wasn’t used to the Force and all of the things that it came with yet, but she could feel the dark cloud surrounding Poe. She could see the single bead of sweat drip down his hairline, the way his hands shook and the force he used to clench them together. He glanced nervously around, and Rey slowly put her hand on his arm, giving him plenty of time to pull away. His eyes locked with hers, and she saw the desperation in them.

Rey led Poe out of the command center and down the one sequence of corridors she knew—to the outside. Poe breathed a bit easier once they were in the open air. They stood there for a minute before Rey said, “Let’s take a seat.”

She surveyed the area before leading Poe to a stone wall, climbing to the top and swinging her legs over the side. Rey kept a reassuring hand on Poe’s arm or shoulder the entire time, trying to keep him grounded.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked gently. Poe shook his head, jaw tense. “Do you mind if I do?” Poe looked off into the distance, but eventually shook his head again, still mute.

Rey stared at the ground below them as she started, “I’ve lived on a desert planet as long as I can remember, I’ve been injured more times than I can count, I’ve seen people die of disease and starvation because they can’t work and I’ve been too powerless to help. All of that was wiped away in that moment, making way for the blinding pain unlike I’ve ever felt.” She sighed, closing her eyes and holding a bit tighter to Poe’s arm.

“That was the moment that really connected me to the Force. I guess I’ve sort of felt it all my life, but I didn’t really know what it was. There were things before that, this whole big thing at Maz Kanata’s, but there was this surge in the Force when Ren pushed into my head. It started with all of the souls of the people Kylo Ren has killed calling out to me, letting me feel their anguish.

“When I pushed back, the pain got worse, the voices got louder, but I could feel his presence. I knew I couldn’t let him get the map, so I pushed.” Rey’s eyes were closed, so she couldn’t see the awed look on Poe’s face, the way his eyes traced the planes of her face.

“‘You know I can take whatever I want,’ he said. It wasn’t just about the map. I felt his emotions through the Force. His obsession with me. He did it again, later, ‘You need a teacher,’ he said, as if I were a wayward child.” Rey coughed, opened her eyes.

“So it might not be exactly what you went through, but you have someone here if you need it.” She forced a small grin. “Besides, from what I’ve heard we’re the only two people who have made it out of Kylo Ren’s torture alive, so there’s that.”

Poe grabbed her hand off his shoulder and held it in his own, trying to send reassurances through the Force. He had no idea if that was a thing, but it was worth a shot. Then he turned and lay down so that he was stretched along the top of the wall. Rey laughed and did the same, hands still lightly connected, reassuring both of them that the other was really there.

“So,” Rey broke the silence after a moment, “I just realized that I don’t know anything about you except the little bit that Finn told me.”

Poe laughed, “And here I know the deepest and darkest parts of your mind.” Rey rolled her eyes, using her free hand to smack him lightly on the head. “Fine, fine,” he gave in. “I grew up on Yavin-IV. My parents were in the old Resistance, back when the Empire was in power. When I was growing up, my mom had an A-Wing that she let me work on with her from the time I could toddle around. When I was old enough, she taught me how to fly.” His eyes drifted shut, remembering the first time he went up, the spots of grass he could just barely see between the trees, the lake just beside his house as seen from the sky, the feeling of freedom from inside the cockpit, as if there were nothing between him and the air.

“When did you learn to fly?” Poe asked, eyes open again and staring into the endless expanse of space.

Rey chuckled. “Here’s the thing … I didn’t. I’ve spent most if not all of my life scavenging parts, living day to day. When I took apart ships and cruisers, it helped to know what was what so that I knew if I was going to get to eat that night. I learned all of the names of everything, then pieced together the functions, then adapted it to know how it all fit together. Before I met Finn and BB-8 and we stole the Millenium Falcon, I had never actually flown a ship above atmosphere.”

Poe scoffed, “There’s no way. Even I’m not that good, and I’m the best pilot in the Resistance.”

“I guess you’ve got some competition then, Dameron,” Rey said. She finally dropped Poe’s hand and rolled off the wall down the other side, tucking and rolling when she hit the ground. Poe rolled his eyes and hopped down after her.

“So, what do you want to do now?” Rey asked him when they were standing together at the bottom of the wall.

“We should probably go back inside,” Poe responded with a sigh. “Tonight is a night for celebration, but tomorrow preparations will have to be made for whoever is going to find Luke Skywalker.”

“I think I’m going to just turn in,” Rey said. She started walking away from the base and towards the Falcon.

“You do know we have spare quarters you could use, right?” Poe said as she walked towards the dingy ship. He ran a few steps to catch up with her.

Her voice was low, sad. “I want to make sure that there’s someone on the ship with Chewie. It’s been a long time since he was alone.”

Poe closed his eyes against the memory of the sorrow on the General’s face when she found out about her husband’s death by her son’s hand. When he almost tripped on an uneven part of the concrete, Poe opened his eyes again.

He walked with Rey to the ramp of the Falcon, where he leaned against the hydraulic lift. When Rey started up the ramp, he said, “What, I don’t even get a tour of the legendary Millenium Falcon? You’re breaking a pilot’s heart here, Rey.”

She turned back, a grin on her face. “We’ll save that for when I drag the last Jedi back by his ancient ear, Dameron. Wouldn’t want to ruin the suspense of all the secrets this baby holds.” Rey fondly patted the hull. “Night, flyboy,” she called over her shoulder as she continued into the ship.

“Night, Jedi,” he called back, waiting a second before he turned and walked back to the base, where by this point someone had probably broken out whatever stashed alcohol they had. Faced with the possibility of celebrating, Poe chose instead to go to the infirmary and sit by Finn.

The doctors still had no idea if or when he would wake up, but Poe still hated the idea of him sitting alone until something happened. Before he knew it, Poe’s eyelids were feeling way too heavy and his head kept drooping off to the side. He wanted to stay awake, just in case Finn woke up, but sleep overtook him within moments.

***

When Rey woke up, she was surprised to see the bright sky and not feel the normal searing heat that came with it. All at once, the events of the past few days came back to her. She realized eventually that she was in the pilot’s seat of the Millenium Falcon, her legs propped up on the control panel. She heard lumbering footsteps behind her. Chewie made a low, mournful noise when he saw her in the seat. It didn’t really translate in her head, but she guessed that it was the Wookie equivalent of a whimper.

“Morning, Chewie,” Rey said, turning in her seat to look at the creature.

‘Han used to sleep there sometimes,’ Chewie said in Wookie.

“I’m sorry,” Rey whispered, getting out of the seat and wrapping her arms around him in a hug. She felt his arms come up around her and hug her back, and she smiled slightly into his fur.

She only broke the hug when she heard a droid beeping in the cargo bay. She recognized the noise as BB-8.

‘Friend-Rey!’ The droid whirred into the cockpit, which wasn’t that big to begin with. It certainly wasn’t big enough for a human, a Wookie, and an astromech.

Rey squatted down to pat BB’s head. “What’s up, BB-8?”

‘General Organa requests the presences of both you and Chewbacca in the command center as soon as you’re able. I must find Master-Poe. Do you know where he may be?’

“I’m sorry BB. I have no idea. I haven’t seen Poe since last night. Maybe he went to see Finn in the infirmary. I was going to do that this morning, but it can wait until after the meeting.”

‘Goodbye, Friend-Rey.’ BB-8 began to roll back through the ship.

“Bye, BB-8!”

***

Poe woke up with his head resting against Finn’s cot in the infirmary, BB-8 bumping his little head against his leg.

‘Master-Poe,’ the little astromech beeped, ‘my readings suggested that this would be the best time in your sleep cycle to wake you up. General Organa requires your presence in the command center.’

“Thanks, buddy,” Poe said, patting BB-8 on the head before he got up and stretched, his spine popping in several places. Maybe falling asleep on this damn chair wasn’t the best idea.

Before Poe could leave the room, one of the doctors whom Poe recognized, Doctor Kolonia, came in, data tablet in hand.

“Good to see you’re awake, Dameron,” she said. “Although now I have to tell you that it was rather stupid of you to sleep in here instead of your own bed. I know you’re worried for your friend, but it won’t do him any good if you wind up in here next to him.”

“Understood, Doc,” Poe said, walking out the door and down the halls to the command center. He stopped when he saw Rey just outside the door, far enough down the hall that no one could see her resting her head against the wall.

He slowly walked up to her, making his footfalls just loud enough that she could hear. She picked her head up off the wall. “Hey, Poe.” She smiled, but he could see that it was forced.

“Rey, what’s wrong?” he asked gently.

“I just need a second before I go in.”

“Ok.” He stood there with a hand resting gently on her shoulder until she took a deep breath, centering herself and straightening up.

“Let’s go.” Rey took the lead, striding into the command center with the same self-assurance she normally exuded.

Poe shook his head with a small smile and started after her.

When they were in the control room, Rey and Poe made a beeline directly for General Organa. He wasted no time. “What is it, General?”

“We’ll need to wait for the others, Dameron. I’d rather only have to do this once.”

Eventually, there was a collection of roughly two dozen individuals around General Organa, all chattering to each other and speculating what the meeting was about. Most had the general idea, but Leia called everyone to order before they could get any concrete ideas.

“You all know that we’ve obtained the entire map that leads to Luke Skywalker,” she started. “I know who I want to go on this mission, but if anyone has ideas, I’m open.”

Rey stepped forward into the circle of space for about three feet around the General. “You know I want to go. I think that I should take the Falcon, R2-D2, and Chewie. We can have Master Jedi Skywalker back before you know it.”

Leia nodded. “That’s what I figured. Any objections or amendments?” she asked the room at large.

A human man stepped forward. He introduced himself to Rey, reaching forward to shake her hand. “Major Caluan Ematt.” He turned back to the room at large to say, “I, for one, think that we must send a larger force to accompany the Falcon. We have no idea how large the First Order has truly grown, nor how quickly they will recover from the destruction of Starkiller Base. The last thing we need is the total annihilation of not only the Jedi, but our only possible lead on how to defeat Kylo Ren.”

Poe stepped forward then. “All due respect, Major Ematt,” he said, “I think that your points are exactly why we cannot afford to spare more than the Falcon to find Skywalker. We are not sure how long it will take the First Order to come after us, and now they know where our base is. There are many decisions to be made in the coming days, and we simply cannot send a large force.”

He turned to give Rey a reassuring nod. “Besides, I believe that Rey and Chewbacca are more than capable of bringing Skywalker back into the fold.”

Poe stepped back, having said his piece, and went to stand by Rey. Leia centered the attention back on her by saying, “Alright, we’ve heard from both parties; it’s time to vote. All those in favor of a larger force accompanying Rey and Chewie?”

A few weak ‘aye’s were heard through the room.

“Those in favor of letting Rey and Chewie go on their own?”

The ‘aye’s were practically deafening.

“It’s decided then.” Leia turned to look at Rey. “Can you have the Falcon ready in a day or two?”

Rey nodded solemnly. “It’ll be ready to go by tomorrow.”

“Excellent. If you need anything, you can ask Commander Dameron.” She raised her voice to the dozens of soldiers around her, “As for you all, we’ve got plenty of work to do. There are fighters to be fixed, injured to attend to … funerals to plan. We must move on, but we will not forget the brave pilots who lost their lives to destroy Starkiller base. Dismissed!”

Most of the soldiers began to slowly amble towards the exits, glances cast over their shoulders, whispers that Rey could still faintly hear. “They don’t know about me. They don’t think I can do it,” she said to Poe, who was still by her side.

He crooked a grin at her. “I guess you’ll just have to prove them wrong, won’t you? Besides, I believe in you.” The look in his eyes told Rey that he meant it.

“Thanks,” she said simply. “Want to help me fix up the Falcon? She needs a few patches in the hyperdrive, not to mention that the steering is a bit wonky. Chewie and I could use the help, if you’re not doing anything.”

“You mean I’ll get to see the famous Millenium Falcon before you even leave? Yes!” Poe pumped his fist in the air, the most childish movement that Rey could imagine. And yet, somehow, it was extremely endearing when he did it.

“C’mon, flyboy,” she laughed, grabbing him by the wrist and leading him out of the command center, towards the Falcon’s spot on the landing zone.

***

Three hours later, Poe finally crawled out from the belly of the Falcon with a groan. Rey and Chewie had been running him ragged, demanding nothing but the best from not only him, but themselves. It was a bit of an adjustment, trying to work with Rey translating from Chewbacca to him, but the results paid off.

The hyperdrive was patched, the steering was probably better than it had been when Han first got it, not to mention the dozens of little fixes they’d made to improve the efficiency, speed, and handling.

When they were finally done, Rey shoved Poe out the floor hatch before popping up triumphantly herself. She ran to the cockpit, checking the status of the dials on the control panels. Chewie came up behind her and said something that Poe didn’t understand.

“Yeah, everything looks good,” Rey responded to the Wookie. “I’ll need to take her up just to be sure. Do you want to come with? It’s ok if you don’t.”

The Wookie growled something else, then shook his head and walked out of the cockpit. Poe heard his lumbering footsteps down the ramp. “What did he say?” Poe asked gently.

“Just that he wasn’t ready to do it without Han yet.” Rey smiled through the tears welling in her eyes. “Do you want to come with me? I still need a copilot.”

“Let’s go,” Poe said excitedly, all but throwing himself into the copilot’s seat.

Rey laughed and sat down in the pilot’s seat, starting to flip the switches in the right order. The control panel lit up after a second, and Poe just stared in awe. Finally, Rey was satisfied with her pre-flight check, and she maneuvered the ship into the air.

Poe shot to his feet once they were in the air, his face practically smushed against the window. The look on his face was one of someone who had never flown before, and Rey had a small sense of pride that she was the one making him feel like this.

Finally, Poe sat down again, though the rapturous look on his face didn’t go away. Rey finally asked him, “Do you want to take over for a minute?”

“Me?” Poe asked incredulously, looking from the window to her.

“No, Poe, we have a stowaway that I figured would like to fly for a bit.” Her sass seemed to shake Poe out of his worship of the ship.

“Why not?” Despite his carefree attitude, Rey felt his nerves as she switched control from her side of the cockpit to his. He grabbed the steering controls and tested it out, moving the ship first one way, then the other.

“Good luck ever getting me out of here,” he said happily, maneuvering the ship so that she was in the upper atmosphere.

“Well, we really should check that the hyperdrive repairs work, so you’ll get to fly her a little bit more. I think we can make a quick hop to the nearest planet and back.”

“Wait, you mean that I can take the ship that did the Kessel Run in fifteen parsecs into hyperspeed?” Poe truly did sound like a child who had just been handed fifty credits and pushed into a candy shop.

“Twelve parsecs!” Rey said with mock indignation. “Ha—Chewie will have your head if he hears you talking like that.” Now Rey looked sad, so Poe did the one thing he knew how to do. He flew.

The ship burst through the atmosphere and into the void of space. Taking one last look at the navigation computer, he engaged the hyperdrive. Within seconds, they were at the next nearest planet in the Illenium system.

He whooped loudly, face lighting up. “This is amazing!”

Rey grinned at him. “Now don’t get so excited you hurt her. I do need to keep her working long enough to find Skywalker and get back.”

“Speaking of getting back,” Poe sighed, “We probably should get back to the base. You’ll need to refuel and resupply before you head out.”

“Yeah.” Rey stared at her hands resting in her lap before finally making eye contact again with Poe. “Do you want me to take her back, or aren’t you ready to give up control yet?”

“I don’t think I’m ready to turn her over just yet.”

“Well-” Rey said playfully- “I guess we know the hyperdrive works. If you want, we can take the slow way back, maybe orbit the planet a few times?”

“Yes!” Poe grinned as he took hold of the controls, maneuvering the Falcon til they were orbiting D’Qar. They stared at the lush green planet in comfortable silence. Without a word, Poe eventually brought the Falcon into the atmosphere and looked to the navicomputer for direction.

As they landed, Poe said, “Well I guess when you get back, I’ll have to take you up to return the favor.”

“Return the favor?” Rey stood up and stretched in the tiny cockpit.

“Well, you taught me how to fly the infamous Millenium Falcon, the least I can do is teach you how to fly an X-Wing.”

“Speaking of flying an X-Wing,” Rey shuffled back and forth on her feet, looking anywhere but at Poe, and finally blurted, “I was wondering … do you think General Organa would let me be a pilot?” She said the question in a rush, so much that Poe almost didn’t catch what she said.

Then she slowed down a bit, still not looking at him. “I mean, I’d get it if she didn’t, but I thought maybe I could split my time between Jedi training and piloting. From what I could tell with everyone stopping conversation the moment I enter a room, the Resistance is in need of both.”

Poe grinned, slouching against the doorframe. “That’s definitely something to bring up with the General, but yeah, I think it’s doable. We’ll have to see what happens with Luke, and it might be a few days of adjustment with Jedi training before you can start flying, but I can talk to the General for you if you want.”

“I’ll talk to her myself, but could you be there to back me up?” Rey bit her lip, still looking nervous despite Poe’s assurances.

“Of course.” Poe pulled up from the doorframe and started walking to the ramp. He stopped at what passed for the Falcon’s med-bay. “Do you want to stock up before or after we talk to the General?”

“We might as well talk to her now, get it over with. I’d rather not get my hopes up only to have them dashed later.”

“Hey.” Poe turned and sat down on the cot, gently tugging Rey’s sleeve until she sat beside him, their knees brushing. “I told you, she’s probably going to give you permission. And if she doesn’t, I guess I’ll just have to train you on my own.”

Rey’s mouth dropped. “You would disobey General Organa just to train me?” She seemed amazed that anyone cared about her enough to do something like that.

“Well technically I wouldn’t be disobeying her,” he clarified, grin back in place, “If she says you can’t be part of the squadron, that doesn’t mean that I can’t teach a friend a few things. And besides, you never know what you might have to fly on a mission. It wouldn’t do to have our new Jedi prodigy stranded on some Force-forsaken planet like Tattoine. Although you’re probably used to the heat and the sand, aren’t you?”

Rey rolled her eyes, grabbing Poe’s arm and standing up. “C’mon, flyboy. Let’s go see the General.”

***

When they reached the command center, General Organa was talking with Admiral Statura. “I understand your concerns, Admiral, but I have faith in the girl.” She glanced over Statura’s shoulder and saw Poe and Rey awkwardly standing a few paces away. “Excuse me for a moment.”

She walked past him, letting out a sigh once she was out of earshot. “Thank you both for coming now. Statura is the third officer whom I’ve had to try and convince that sending the entire fleet is a terrible idea.”

Poe laughed, “Another reason I’m glad I’m not in your shoes. I couldn’t deal with that all the time.”

“What do you need, Rey?” The small smile was still on Leia’s face, but she had regained her normal serious air.

Poe saw Rey’s jaw work for a second before she said, “I was wondering if I could start pilot training once I bring Master Skywalker back. I still want to be a Jedi, of course, but I don’t want that to be the only thing I am.”

Poe nodded when Leia sought his approval.

“It’s decided then,” the older woman said decisively. “You’ll have to talk to Luke, of course, but I doubt he’ll say no. He always was the mellow one.” She reached out to Rey and rested her hand on the younger woman’s shoulder. “Bring him home, and you’ll have full run of the base. You’re already a hero, but you could be on the fast track to being an officer. I just want my brother home.”

Rey didn’t know what it was in that moment, but she leaned forwards, not thinking about the words that spilled from her mouth, “You have the Force, don’t you? I thought I felt it earlier, but I’m not very good at this yet. You’ve felt him. Anyone else would have given up after almost 15 years, but you know he’s still alive.”

Poe looked taken aback, but Leia was calm, unsurprised. “I do. I chose not to pursue it so that I could fight for peace and help rebuild after the last war, but I’m good at sensing emotions, which was actually pretty useful for a senator. And I can feel major shifts: entire systems being destroyed, the slaughter of Luke’s padawans, the moment Han died. It’s more of a curse than a blessing, but at least I know Luke is still alive.”

“I’m sorry.” There were no words to truly say what Rey felt at that moment, her sorrow that Leia had only seen the darker parts of the Force mingled with her elation that there was another Force-sensitive person right by her. “I’ll do whatever it takes to bring your brother back.”

“I appreciate it, Rey. Is there anything else you need from me? If the Falcon still needs repairs, I can have a team look at it.”

“Poe, Chewie, and I have got her in tip-top shape already. I think we just need to refuel and resupply, and we should be ready to go by noon tomorrow.”

“Alright. Just grab one of the ground crew members to refuel her and Poe can show you where to get supplies.”

***

Resupply was more difficult than Rey had anticipated.

“I don’t know, Poe!” she exclaimed when presented with four different varieties of food rations. “I’ve eaten the exact same thing every day for the past fifteen years of my life. I have absolutely no opinion on the type of food I get to eat.”

“What?” she asked when she saw his astonished look.

“The exact same thing?” He leaned against the shelf they were standing next to in the supply room. “No variety whatsoever?”

“Well Jakku wasn’t exactly overflowing with places I could forage, nor were there any animals worth hunting. My only way of getting food was selling what parts I could scavenge from old cruisers that had crashed during the war against the Empire.”

Poe said no more about the conditions she had lived in, instead pulling himself away from the shelf so that he could grab ration packets off it. “Well you don’t want that one-” he pointed to one row in particular- “that type is better suited for long missions because it keeps better, but it tastes like bantha kark. You’ll only be gone a week at the most, so you should only need about twenty-five for you, twenty-five for Chewie, and maybe ten for Skywalker if you have to take a while getting back.”

He grabbed four boxes of rations for Rey and Luke and three boxes for Chewie, setting them by the entrance to the stock room. They walked down the next row of shelves looking for the medical kits for humanoid lifeforms. Of course when they found them, they were on the very top shelf, just barely out of Poe’s reach. After about thirty seconds of embarrassing tip-toes trying to grab a kit, Poe sighed and looked to Rey for help. “Got any Jedi tricks up your sleeve?”

Rey grinned and lifted her hands, closing her eyes. As her hands moved, so did two kits. She moved them up and off the shelf, but when Poe coughed, she lost her concentration and the heavy kits dropped like a sack of rocks … right overtop of Poe’s head. She didn’t have time to use the Force to move the kits, so Rey tackled Poe to get him out of the way.

Poe looked slightly green when he heard the heavy, dull thud of the ration kits hitting the floor. “Thanks,” he breathed, his face rather close to Rey’s.

“You’re welcome.” She pushed off his shoulders to put more than a few inches between their faces. That was when she noticed that she was essentially straddling him: chests pressed together, legs tangled.

“Oh, kriff,” she scrambled off him, distancing herself and tucking a strand of hair that had come loose behind her ear. “Sorry. I didn’t—I didn’t mean to get that close.”

“I think I’ll forgive you,” Poe teased, “You were saving my life, or at least saving me from a very nasty trip to the medbay.”

His disarming nature made Rey stop shuffling her feet, turning to pick up the heavy medkits. “Well, now that that adventure is done with, what else do we need?”

***

Soon, the Falcon was fully stocked, and there was nothing left to do for the day except eat. And Rey was putting that off, not ready to face what was sure to be an unusual experience. She was beneath the floorboards of the Falcon when Poe came to look for her.

“Rey, what are you doing? Did we miss something that needs fixing?”

“I’m just tinkering,” Rey replied, popping her head up from the belly of the ship. “I’ll be there in a minute. You don’t have to wait for me.”

Poe heard her stomach growl. “I know you haven’t eaten anything since we grabbed the last two ration packs on the ship while we were working, and that was almost eight hours ago.” He saw the nervous look in her eye and said, “If you come now you won’t have to face the mess hall alone. We can even stop and see Finn after dinner, I know you haven’t been to see him all day.”

Rey reluctantly climbed out of the floor, setting the covering back into place. “Let’s get this over with.” She strode off the Falcon, putting on a confident air that Poe knew was a lie.

***

The mess hall was even more hectic than Rey had expected. Even though it was almost nine o’clock D’Qar time, at least a quarter of the Resistance was either in line for food or already sitting at the tables lined up in the enormous room.

Poe led her to the food line, quietly explaining everything to her as the moved closer to the front of the line. “Dinner runs from five until ten local time, so that the shifts change in the middle and everyone has a chance to eat. You can choose one type of meat, one grain, two fruits, a vegetable, and a dessert. Not all of it is that great, but most of it is palpable at least. Our cooks do the best they can with what we can get. You want to steer clear of anything that has a layer of breading on the top, though. Some of the non-humanoids like whatever’s in it, but it makes me gag.”

They finally started down the line, Poe still speaking softly in her ear, offering his suggestions. Rey wound up with a slice of some sort of meat she had never heard of, a roll that looked fluffier than any of her portions on Jakku, two shurra fruits, some strange vegetable, and a slice of blue cake.

“The cake is made with Bantha milk,” Poe explained as they found a mostly-empty table to claim. There were a few people in mechanics’ jumpsuits at the other end of the table. Poe nodded to them, and they nodded back at the two of them before turning to whisper to each other.

Rey sighed, absently tossing her roll between her hands. Poe stopped her with a hand on her wrist, using his other hand to gently tilt her head so that she looked at him. “Don’t pay any attention to them,” he insisted. “People are going to talk about you, there’s not a lot you can do to stop it. Besides throw a rage fit, and that seems like more of a Kylo Ren move,” he teased.

After a few more seconds of intense eye contact, Poe seemed to realize that he was still caressing Rey’s chin, long fingers wrapped around her jaw. He coughed, drawing his hands back across the table.

They ate their meals with a comfortable air surrounding them, despite the fact that Rey could feel people’s stares burning into her from all angles. Finally, their trays were empty, and they could think of nothing else to say.

“I should probably get going.” Rey stood up, grabbing her tray and shoving her other hand into her pocket. “I’m going to see Finn and then I’d better check that everything is ready on the Falcon.”

Poe sighed and stood as well. “I have to meet with General Organa, otherwise I’d see Finn with you. I’ll see him as soon as I’m able.”

“Well, you’d better not sleep in that sithspit chair next to him again.”

Poe raised an eyebrow in question.

“BB-8 told me after the meeting this morning. You know that the healers will come get us the moment he wakes up, you need your rest. I suspect you’ll all be having an interesting few days while I’m retrieving Skywalker.”

“I’ll be sure to leave some of the excitement for when you get back,” Poe teased.

“I’m sure I’ll have enough excitement between Jedi training and flying lessons, don’t go out of your way to make my life even more difficult.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Poe gave a mock-salute and a smirk as Rey turned on her heel to put her tray on the conveyer belt.

***

True to his word, Poe only visited with Finn for a bit before going to sleep in his own quarters. But when he woke in the morning to his faithful droid banging against his bedframe, Poe felt even worse than he had after sleeping in that awful chair. It wasn’t any sort of physical pain, but an … emotional one.

As he probed why he felt this worry and pain, his dreams came back to him in a rush, just as they did every morning since his escape from Starkiller Base. But they weren’t the normal dreams of his home planet being destroyed, or of his squad being massacred. No, this set of dreams starred Rey.

The first started with Rey running through the woods with Finn. It was the exact scene she had told him about, the confrontation with Kylo Ren. But this time, it wasn’t Ren’s face that got sliced open. It was Rey. From the start of this dream-fight, it was obvious who was going to win. Just as Ren raised his lightsaber above Rey’s head, the dream switched.

This time, it was Rey standing on the bridge above the chasm with Ren. It was Rey who pleaded with him, not to return, but to spare her life. It was Rey who grabbed the lightsaber hilt only to die a swift, merciless death, red blade emerging through white garments. Just as dream-Poe tried to scream, the dream changed again.

Now his incorporeal form was behind a small child, who ran after a cloaked form as they strode to a speeder, begging the shrouded visage not to leave her. Something told him that this was Rey, just as she had been left. This image repeated again and again, and somehow seemed more awful than the two death-visions he’d seen.

Just recounting his dreams left a sheen of sweat on Poe’s brow, one that he wiped away quickly. He stood on shaky legs and went to the sink to wash his face. Once he had composed himself, he went to the mess hall. When he was through the line and looking for a place to sit, he noticed that the hall was almost full.

Odd, normally everyone eats later than this, he thought. Then he remembered that today wasn’t normal. Everyone would want to see Rey and Chewie off on their mission to reclaim the last Jedi. Speaking of Rey. Poe spotted the scavenger sitting off on her own again with a buffer of at least two seats in every direction.

There weren’t a lot of options for seats anyways, but even if the entire hall had been empty, Poe still would have sat next to Rey. He was sure to let his footfalls be heard, he’d been warned by BB-8 that she could hold her own when it came to fight, and he certainly didn’t want to startle her. Speaking of BB-8 though….

“I never did thank you for taking care of BB-8, did I?” he said in lieu of a greeting. Rey shook her head, and Poe grimaced. “I’m sorry. BB-8 told me what you did for him. Thank you for taking care of my wingman.”

“Of course, it was no trouble,” Rey replied.

“But it was,” Poe insisted. “BB-8 told me about Unkar Plutt. You would’ve starved just to keep him with you. You didn’t sell him, which I know a lot of people would’ve. I wouldn’t even blame you. Sixty portions could keep you fat and happy for months. So really, thank you.”

Poe sensed her discomfort, and sent her a small grin as he lightened the mood. “BB also told me about how you beat the shit out of the goons that tried to grab him. Not going to lie, I would’ve liked to see that.”

“If you never tick me off, you won’t experience it personally. If I can’t stop hearing people’s thoughts about me, I might kick someone.”

“Wait, you’re hearing thoughts now? When did this happen? Is it everyone’s thoughts or just some of them?” Poe leaned closer, keeping his words quiet but excited.

“It started this morning. It must be proximity-based, but there’s a pretty wide radius. So far, I’m only catching the occasional thought, but a lot of people are thinking about me.” She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“The female at one o’clock, she doesn’t think that I can possibly be a Jedi, that I must be tricking everyone. The male four seats to your left, he thinks that whether or not I’m any good to the Resistance, at least I’m giving him ‘something new to look at.’ There’s a person or two who think that I’m going to fail completely and totally when I try to bring Skywalker back. At least two women are worried that they aren’t going to be the most attractive on base anymore, of all the things to think about in the middle of a war.”

Poe stared at her for a minute before any sort of thought came to him. “Wait, have you been reading my mind at all today?”

Rey’s brow furrowed. “For some reason, I’m not really getting anything off of you. I’m not really controlling this though, so it could just be a Force glitch.”

“Wait, a Force glitch? Is that something that actually happens?”

“I have no idea, flyboy. Most of what I know about the Force is scraps of myth overheard on Jakku, the rest was from that whole thirty seconds at Maz Kanata’s before the First Order ruined everything. I have to find Skywalker. If I don’t, things could get very bad for me.”

“What do you mean?” Poe asked.

Rey seemed to zone out for a second, her tray and utensils levitating. When Poe touched her shoulder, the glazed look left her eyes, and the tray clattered to the table, silverware rattling on top of it. “That’s what I mean.”

“How long have you been levitating things without meaning to?”

“It started yesterday while we were working on the Falcon. You and Chewie were in a different compartment, and all of the wrenches floated around me. I couldn’t help it, it only stopped when you stubbed your toe on something and cursed loud enough to break the trance. It’s happened twice this morning too. Between this and the mind-reading, maybe it’s not the worst that I’ll be getting away from the base for a few days. I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

Poe covered Rey’s hand on the table between them, stopping the slight tremors wracking her. “You wouldn’t do that anyways, Rey. I’ve only known you a couple of days, but I know you wouldn’t hurt someone who didn’t deserve it.”

Rey smiled at him, but after a second she jerked back, ears and cheeks flaming.

“What is it?” Poe asked with a quizzical tilt to his head.

“Nothing,” Rey mumbled, burying her face in her sleeves.

Poe pulled her hands away from her face after a second. “C’mon, what is it?”

“I caught another stray thought.” Poe just waited. Rey sighed. “A lady behind us thought ‘how is it that she’s only been here two days and she’s already got him eating out of the palm of her hand’. There, happy?”

Poe scratched his neck sheepishly. “Yeah, that has to be pretty awkward.”

“You have no idea,” Rey muttered from behind her sleeves.

***

The moment was finally upon him, and Poe was freaking out. “Are you sure you have everything, Rey?” he asked, running his gaze over her as if to assure himself that she was going to be fine.

“For the fifth and last time, I have absolutely everything I could possibly need for this mission, flyboy. I’ll be back before you know it.” Rey gave him a quick hug before she could think better of it, and moved on to Leia. She could think of nothing to say to the woman, and so turned to the Falcon.

But just before she could take the first step, Leia spoke. “Rey.” Rey turned back to her. “May the Force be with you.” With a smile on her face, Rey started her journey to find Luke.

#micsmays1031 #prsummerexchange17 #damereyevents #damerey #poe dameron #rey #this was actually my first damerey fic #or star wars fic in general #i'm actually pretty happy with how this turned out #hope y'all like #seriously tho #leave me comments #comments give me life #message me on anon if you want to

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chicagocityofclans · 4 years

Photo

Emmanuel Flores → Alfonso Herrera → Coyote

→ Basic Information

Age: 40

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Gay

Born or Made: Made

Birthday: October 1st

Zodiac Sign: Libra

Religion: Catholic

→ His Personality Emmanuel has a strong need for control. He cares about what people know about him, how he presents himself, his apartment and his reputation. He built his outward persona from the ground up and knows the value of a good reputation and controlling the narrative. He has a strong and inviting personality that draws people in and gets them to listen. It’s one of his strengths as an anchor and interviewer. Emmanuel is well spoken and has studied all the greats to develop his own personal reporting and interview style. While he is very graceful and eloquent in most situations, when left unchecked or angered Emmanuel can be domineering. He can hold a room captive until he gets his way. And when he doesn’t, or something slides out of his control he can become vindictive and aggressive towards the situation.

→ His Personal Facts

Occupation: Television Broadcast Anchor

Scars: None

Tattoos: None

Two Likes: Looking neat and Anderson Cooper

Two Dislikes: Manipulative headlines and Taco Bell

Two Fears: His family being changed and

Two Hobbies: Going to the gym and Writing poetry

Three Positive Traits: Eloquent, Enigmatic, Courageous

Three Negative Traits: Vindictive, Domineering, Controlling

→ His Connections

Parent Names:

Maria Flores (Mother): Maria was Emmanuel’s major support system in the beginning of his childhood. She did everything she could so he could have a good childhood. Their relationship was bad when he first came out to her, and it took her getting sick to come around and realize what she was missing without him. Emmanuel took charge with his mother’s illness and was there at every chemo, radiation and doctor’s appointments. They are now incredibly strong and Maria comes over every weekend to catch up with her children and play with her granddaughter.

Luis Gomez (Step-Father): Luis is the father that Robert never was. Though he came into his life too late to be there for him as a child, Luis showed up at nearly every debate team match and stood cheering at both graduations.

Robert Hall (Father): Robert was never in Emmanuel’s life and Emmanuel doesn’t truly consider him to be his father.

Sibling Names:

Ignacio Flores (Brother): Ignacio and Emmanuel have always had a challenging relationship. Ignacio thinks Emmanuel is the reason Robert left, not wanting the responsibility of another mouth to feed. Emmanuel tried to connect over years, but just gave up eventually. The two continue to be tense around one another, but are good enough where Nacio will come around for dinner on weekends.

Juana Gomez (Step-Sister): Emmanuel and Juana were the closest growing up. Only a year apart in school, he kept an eye on her and tried to protect her the best he could. She works in Milwaukee now, as a county clerk, but tries to make it out once a month for the weekend.

Alejandro Gomez (Half-Brother): Alejandro was everyone’s favorite sibling growing up. He was adorable, and had an infectious laugh that broke up most of the fights in the Flores-Gomez household. He’s just now finishing up his Bachelor’s degree in Film and Emmanuel is trying to score him a job at the news station.

Children Names:

Luisa Moreno (Daughter): Emmanuel and Mariela are attempting to raise Luisa together and give her as normal of a life as possible. She is going into first grade this year, and Emmanuel worries what she might hear about her father in school.

Romantic Connections:

Mariela Moreno (Ex-girlfriend): Emmanuel was trying desperately not to be gay for a long time. He joked around, found a pretty girl and tried to imagine his life as that forever. Eventually he broke down and told Mariela. She was understandably shaken and the first few years of Luisa’s life were tense. They had a very honest conversation, both admitting fault, and have come together as friends to try and raise Luisa with a healthy family dynamic.

Platonic Connections:

Jesus Herrara (Best Friend): Jesus has been his best friend since he can remember. They met as kindergarteners and never split up. He was the person Mano was most concerned about finding out about his sexuality, but Jesus barely batted an eye. The only tension came when Jesus asked Mari out on a date. Emmanuel had a hard time briefly, but is now glad he has someone he trusts so much in Mariela and Luisa’s life.

Milton Rod Jackman (Good Friend): Rod is Emmanuel’s investigator. They work together on larger interest pieces, and though he’s a hard-ass, he is incredibly loyal and has been a sense of normalcy for Emmanuel through everything. He’s been a great resource with regards to parenting and has helped Mano avoid bigger mistakes.

Simon Brodeur (Camera man): Emmanuel takes Simon along as his camera man most often, just to get him out of his head. It’s been a few months since his mate died and he just hasn’t been right since. Emmanuel feels for him and tries to cheer him up when he can.

Breha Kaur (Reporter): Breha moved to his show recently and has begun working with himself and Rod on stories. He doesn’t know her as well as the others and wonders if she is a part of that fox group. She is always friendly to him, which he reciprocates though. He thinks she’s a good writer, and would consider getting to know her better.

Ryan Cleirigh (New Acquaintance): Emmanuel approached Ryan about doing a podcast with him. He’s not sure exactly what he’d want to address, but feels he needs to be able to have a platform free of the McCormick empire to do it.

Vincent Kane (Resource): Vincent has been a major resource when it comes to reporting on Supernatural news. He is the most communicative of the Human Shifters and cares about getting the story right and accurate.

Maxine Vanes (Former Resource): Max used to be an excellent resource for any rat information he needed, but he is well aware of the stigma that the rats hold and doesn’t know if trying his luck with Max would destroy that avenue for his show.

Hostile Connections:

Tim Boaz (Hates): Emmanuel always thought of Tim as a good guy with a bad brother, but it was Tim’s name in the byline on the article. Emmanuel hates liars and finds Tim somehow more despicable than his brother.

Lee Boaz (Hates): Lee has always hated him, but he didn’t expect him to go as low as he has with this piece. He never trusted him before and now he wants him out of the pack, or dead.

Percy McCormick (Angry with): He feels that Percy did nothing to help him and has done nothing to discipline the twins. They are causing havoc everywhere and destroying relationships with other packs. He is well aware that he is one of many unhappy with the current nimble Alpha.

Austin Semler (Distrusts): He and Austin had a good relationship before he was outed. Though there are no direct ties to him, the Twins can’t capture a good photo in daylight, let alone at night and in hiding. He thinks Austin had something to do with it, but hasn’t launched any accusations yet.

Pets:

“Sunny” Sunset Shimmer (Kitten): He bought Luisa a kitten for her birthday and she unfortunately named her after a My Little Pony character, and he’s taken to calling her Sunny for short.

→ History Emmanuel was born in Chicago to Maria Flores. Though a newly single mom of two, Maria worked herself to the bone caring for her sons. She’d work multiple jobs day and night, but still poured as much as she could into her boys. Despite this fact, one thing imprinted on Emmanuel’s memory is how she was always collected. He never remembered seeing her messy or just throw something on. She used to tell him the only thing you can control in life is yourself. She could control how she felt in her nice clothes and tidy hair, and how she looked to the world. A few years later, Maria found Luis, a nice man with a daughter of his own. He was a perfect match for Maria and they wound up getting married quickly. Emmanuel, Ignacio, and Maria all moved into the Gomez household the summer of his 6th grade year and marked only the beginning of changes.

He began noticing differences in himself and the other guys in his friend group. He wasn't girl crazy and felt lost as everyone he knew began transitioning from puberty. His feelings for other men grew, but Emmanuel desperately tried to force himself straight. He dated girls, trying to push away the thoughts that he may feel anything different than the rest of his friends. He finished high school and began college for broadcasting. Along the way he found Mariela who was smart and kind and beautiful. He thought that she’d make a good wife and partner, even if there was no attraction to her. She fell pregnant and had Luisa the next year. Emmanuel tried to put his personal feelings aside and focus on being a good father to Luisa. Then he and Mariela began fighting and he found himself telling her the truth. She wanted nothing to do with him and kicked him out. She swore that he used her and was a fraud. After that came out Emmanuel knew he needed to tell the others in his family while trying to mend his relationship with Mariela.

When Emmanuel finally told his mother, he’d never seen her look so disappointed in him. Luis tried to say something but Mano just wanted to run away. He poured himself into his news segment writing and began subbing in for various hosts at the station before scoring a midnight talk show. It was pitched as a dual lingual talk show with an emphasis on the different neighborhoods of Chicago. Almost no one watched, but he was finally able to get on camera. It was at this time that Emmanel found out his mother was sick from Juana. When he saw her the next week, she looked ravaged by the disease and they both started crying and apologizing. He felt like he had to make up whatever lost time he could and offered to drive her wherever she needed to go. He found out that she’d taken to watching his television show late at night and the bond between them began to heal.

Walking home one morning after his show, Emmanuel felt eyes following him. He was strong and thought he could take anyone that might come at him but wasn’t expecting a coyote to appear. Emmanuel attempted to scare it away with a few yells, but it skulked closer to him, leaping and biting him when it got the chance. He kicked the coyote away from him and went to the hospital to get it cleaned and a tetanus shot The next day Percy McCormick, CEO of McCormick productions arrived at his door and explained what he called “a terrible accident”. He continued to go on about what he was and that his whole life would change. In this spiel, he also offered him a job. Emmanuel had a rough transition into being a coyote. He didn’t like listening to those who attempted to teach him how to shift and felt a lot of anger towards the nimbles. It wasn’t until Mariela reached out and wanted to make it work that Emmanuel felt hope again. He has found contentment in his coyote form within the last 5 years that he never imagined he’d have.

→ The Present Emmanuel has been receiving some negativity since he was outed to the greater public by a gossip rag co-written by the Boaz twins. They didn’t get much of a punishment from Percy, and Mano has been dealing with the fall out from both the human and supernatural community. He has been thrust into the spotlight by the station, seemingly as a diversity token, and is finding his reporting and journalism in general being dismissed in favor of his sexuality. He began to isolate himself from the nimbles after that particular betrayal of trust, and has started a habit of hunting foxes and leaving them on the twins door.

To push past the stigma his outing caused, Emmanuel has been working on a series of pieces for the station, highlighting the real lives of some of the most difficult jobs in the city. He has been shadowing various occupations showcasing “Heroes of Chicago” for the news station.

→ Available Gif Hunts (we do not own these)

Alfonso Herrera (Emmanuel Flores) [1][2][3][4]

#Emmanuel Flores #Mano Flores #OM #OMAS #OMN #OAS #Open

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easyfoodnetwork · 4 years

Quote

The idea of comfort food has become a cliche, but for those working the front lines at hospitals, a well-prepared meal makes all the difference One afternoon in late March, the chef Josef Centeno made 100 enchiladas. First, he simmered 10 pounds of chicken thighs in an improvised Japanese-style curry made with chorizo spice, yuzu kosho, dried chile powder, and dashi, while on the side, he grilled bolting cauliflower from a local farm. Then he warmed corn tortillas in hot oil and became a one-man assembly line, filling them with the curry and laying them seam-side down on the full-sized sheet pan. Finally, a blanket of fontina and Tex-Mex cheese turned the enchiladas brown and crispy in the oven. This motherlode of enchiladas was handed off to some friends who took them to a doctor at Cedars-Sinai. There were 61 new cases of the novel coronavirus reported in Los Angeles County that day; the hospital had just set up a triage tent outside. “It’s gonna start getting bad I’m afraid,” Centeno texted me. The things he was hearing made him want to help, so he did the thing he knew how to do: cook. Centeno was one of the first chefs in Los Angeles to close down entirely after the city ordered restaurants to shift to takeout and delivery only. While operating in takeout mode, he returned again and again to the question of the virus, and how easily it was spreading — it was safe for the people ordering, but less safe for the staff making their way to work every day. “I would feel terrible for the rest of my life if I was having people work, even though everyone wanted to work, if they went home and got their grandmother sick or son who has asthma sick,” he says. “I told everyone to file for unemployment [right then], because by [the following] week, it was going to be a shitshow.” Many of his employees were able to get unemployment, before, yes, everything became a shitshow. “Every day, we find out a little more, and it’s a little bit worse.” The day after he decided to close, he gave away produce and extra cooked food to staff and friends, first from his restaurant Amacita in Culver City, and later from his four restaurants clustered in downtown Los Angeles around a corner he’d remade starting in 2011. Centeno was already cooking big batches of his ranchero chicken to give away, and when he heard about the doctors, nurses, and staff working endless shifts as they treated COVID patients and prepared for the oncoming wave, he wanted to provide food that could, even for a moment, transport hospital workers out of the crisis they were facing. “Restaurants have always been an escape, and that’s what I know how to do.” After that first batch of enchiladas, Centeno started cooking by himself twice a week with a nonprofit called Dine11, one of the many charities that have popped up to feed hospital workers in Los Angeles. Dine11 was started by longtime friends and collaborators, actor Lola Glaudini and costume supervisor Brooke Thatawat, who had friends in the restaurant and hospital world and saw they both needed help. Centeno’s prep work for a batch of meals designated for hospital workers Unlike some of the bigger nonprofits, which are sending massive meal orders to the city’s best-known hospitals, Dine 11 doesn’t work with chains or big restaurateurs. Instead, its focus helps mom-and-pop restaurants and some smaller restaurant groups bring in enough money to survive the citywide shutdown, while sending food to the smaller hospitals in Los Angeles that are missing out on larger charities’ attentions. Dine11 uses the money it’s raised to place a takeout order at a small local restaurant, which boxes it up according to hospital safety protocols. The restaurant puts the food in the trunk of a volunteer driver, who takes it to the hospital. Then, the volunteer texts their contact at the hospital, who picks it up from the truck without any contact. Glaudini says restaurants are finding Dine11 organically; she’s getting 20 to 30 emails a day from people who want to be involved. For many smaller restaurants, the kind run by families or people who would call themselves cooks, not chefs, closing down doesn’t feel like an option. Dine11 can’t keep them in business long term, but it can give them a lifeline of another week. And every restaurant Dine11 works with is required to adhere to safety standards (masks, gloves, frequent wiping down of containers and surfaces) that help keep workers safer, too. Centeno cooks meals for Dine11 in between designing face masks for friends and family and custom-dyeing garments he’s selling to raise money to keep his workers on their health insurance. He uses donated vegetables from Thao Family Farms, his own dwindling stock of ingredients (like an order of eight 22-pound bags of rice he placed right before the pandemic hit), and whatever else he can get his hands on. He cooks alone, because he believes that’s the only safe option right now. “It’s been kind of Zen,” he says. “I’m just by myself, listening to music.” Centeno isn’t taking money from Dine11 for himself or to cover ingredients; the founders say he’s asked them to donate the money directly to the GoFundMe he set up for his employees. To cover the restaurants’ last payroll, Centeno dipped into his personal savings fund, which he is relying on as long as his restaurants remain closed. For the takeout meals, Centeno is mixing Japanese and Tex-Mex flavors, which he says work surprisingly well together. A recent rice bowl came together like this: ground beef from the freezer, which he stewed with dashi to make a picadillo, plus mustard greens and kale from Thao Farms cooked with Peads & Barnetts bacon, served over brown rice. Centeno topped the bowls with shaved fennel and pistachio dry salsa. Even though he was working by himself, and not in the rush of service, he still has been running behind. “I did a lot better than the week before, when I was like an hour late.” The idea of comfort food has become a cliche, but the emotional succor a well-prepared meal can offer is real, especially in times of true need. Medical workers need to eat, but what they really need is to feel supported, and that’s a role meals made with precision and creativity like Centeno’s can play. “Our responsibility as culinarians is to take care of people,” Centeno says. Katy Kinsella is an emergency physician at Kaiser in Panorama City and a friend of Dine11’s co-founder Thatawat; her hospital has received several deliveries from Dine11. At the hospital, according to Kinsella, workers are anxiously waiting for the pandemic’s peak to hit in Los Angeles. Kinsella’s hospital is seeing COVID-19 patients on a daily basis, anywhere from four to 18 a day, many of whom come in very sick. “It can tax the lungs and they end up getting pneumonia; once they end up with a breathing tube, they don’t do well,” Kinsella says. “There’s no infectious disease that we’ve had here in the United States that’s felt anything like this. You can’t help but think, that could be me.” Friends at hospitals in New York and Detroit are completely overwhelmed. Kinsella worries for them, and for herself; she worries she might carry the virus home to her family. The food that comes from Dine11 fuels a long and harrowing shift, but its emotional impact is much more important. “It’s just nice to know that people care and recognize what we’re doing.” The fear of what the pandemic might bring doesn’t stop Kinsella from showing up every day; she’s proud to do her job. What a meal prepared by a chef or local restaurant does is create a sense of normalcy — that care that Centeno wants to convey. “When we have to give people bad news, we feel it too. Having a meal and feeling the support of our community makes us feel like we’re not in it alone.” Kinsella says she likes getting food from Dine11 because they’re building a model to support local restaurants, which she knows are hurting. “Food is my favorite thing in the world, and it’s weird to have all these restaurants closed,” she says. “We were trying to support local restaurants with takeout, but it’s not the same thing.” Glaudini and Thatawat believe that boosting the morale of health care workers is essential, but they know there are lots of groups out there feeding hospitals right now. They’re trying to focus on making sure the efforts help restaurants, too, whether that’s by partnering with places that are really in need or having delivery volunteers so the restaurants can keep all of the money, rather than giving a delivery service a cut. “We want to spend our money where the need is greatest,” Thatawat says. “And that’s the smaller businesses and local businesses that we love.” Centeno does not know if the cooking is helping him cope with the collapse of his industry, but he does find meaning in feeding those who are putting their lives on the line. He knows he’s not alone in struggling right now — he sees it happening to every single one of his peers. Like a lot of other chefs who own a small enough number of restaurants where they occasionally still find themselves washing dishes or hopping on the line, he’s not used to standing still. “I guess I’m in bulldozer mode,” he says. “Every day, I can’t believe the restaurant industry is gone; it’s vanished, and what is it going to come back as? I’m trying to figure out how to readjust, because the whole model has been turned upside down and put in the recycling machine. I worked 30 years and lost it all in 24 hours.” from Eater - All https://ift.tt/34JRzQn

http://easyfoodnetwork.blogspot.com/2020/04/how-one-chef-is-feeding-las-hospital.html

#EasyFoodNetwork #ComfortFoodRecipes #EasyRecipes #GoodFood #BestComfortFoodRecipes #TastyFoodv

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instantdeerlover · 4 years

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How One Chef Is Feeding LA’s Hospital Workers, 100 Enchiladas at a Time added to Google Docs

How One Chef Is Feeding LA’s Hospital Workers, 100 Enchiladas at a Time

The idea of comfort food has become a cliche, but for those working the front lines at hospitals, a well-prepared meal makes all the difference

Centeno’s prep work for a batch of meals designated for hospital workers

via Eater - All https://www.eater.com/2020/4/15/21219753/restaurants-feeding-hospital-workers-covid-19-coronavirus

Created April 15, 2020 at 10:05PM /huong sen View Google Doc Nhà hàng Hương Sen chuyên buffet hải sản cao cấp✅ Tổ chức tiệc cưới✅ Hội nghị, hội thảo✅ Tiệc lưu động✅ Sự kiện mang tầm cỡ quốc gia 52 Phố Miếu Đầm, Mễ Trì, Nam Từ Liêm, Hà Nội http://huongsen.vn/ 0904988999 http://huongsen.vn/to-chuc-tiec-hoi-nghi/ https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1xa6sRugRZk4MDSyctcqusGYBv1lXYkrF

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scrambledthoughtz · 4 years

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fed up w/ quarantine & other thoughts

been feeling really fucking fed up with myself recently. every time i feel like complaining about this quarantine or shelter-in-place, i feel like a stuck-up asshole and i just remember that TikTok that's like "Kim, there are literally people dying." i understand that i'm in a huge position of privilege given the circumstances because my family and i can afford to stock up on food, toilet paper, and cleaning agents. i know that we are lucky to even have the chance to complain about the fact that we are stuck at home -- reading, sleeping, catching up on lectures, painting, or whatever other activites people have picked up during this quarantine. i know that there are people out there (like doctors, nurses, mail men, grocery store workers, Uber drivers and more) who are working their asses off to make sure that we are able to maintain at least some degree of normalcy despite the chaos that we have all been thrown into. and massive props to them -- i really can't even begin to express my gratitude for those who are still working hard at their jobs while the rest of us get to stay at home. so trust me when i say i know. i know i shouldn't really even be complaining because in the grand scheme of things, i am lucky. my family is lucky. many of us are lucky. but with all that being said, i'm not going to deny the fact that these extended periods of time spent cooped up inside has taken a bit of a toll. i've been so fed up with myself recently for a number of reasons. first, it has been SO hard to focus at home. i'm not used to being inside for so long, or not having the option to go somewhere else to study when my room proves itself to be a massive distraction. it's not like i don't have anything to do. i do. i had midterms last week, and finals this week. but despite this, i've found it so difficult to focus and to commit to sitting down and actually put effort into my schoolwork. i'm the type of person who hates turning something in when i know i haven't put my best effort into. sometimes it is what it is, but especially with my bigger assignments (like this 10-page research paper i have due at the end of this week), i would absolutely hate to turn in something that i'm not at least decently proud of. and i've always been this way. i always tell people the story of when i fell asleep the night before my country report was due, and i woke up to it being finished, thanks for my mom to took over and finished up my project while i had temporarily passed out on the floor next to the computer. in the end, i got an A, but i was still upset because i felt like i didn't deserve the grade that i had gotten. it was my mom's A, not my own. since then, i've mellowed down a little. i've grown to understand that i can't put my 100% into everything, but i still hate turning in something that i'm not proud of. but i just can't find the willpower to sit down and freaking type out this paper. i don't even know why. actually, maybe i do. a few weeks ago, i went to an academic coaching appointment at Foothill, and i told the coach that i may have an perfectionist instict where i drag out assignments because i know that they're going to take a lot of effort and brainpower and i don't want to churn out anything sub-par. it's a worthy revelation, but it doesn't do me any good if i don't work on it. now, i'm not a perfect (or even a stellar) student by any stretch of the imagination, but i don't think i really realized how much of my identity is tied with school and my education. without that structure and constant push, i feel genuinely lost. it's like, "what now?" what am i working towards? if i have too much time on my hands, i'm almost always itching for that empty space to be filled with schoolwork, or any type of productive activity. it's not like i LOVE school or anything, but i also don't hate it. and actually, nowadays, i really miss it. i miss my instructors. i miss my classmates. i miss sitting in a classroom and participating in-person. i'm honestly kind of sick of talking with people over the phone, text, email, or FaceTime. i miss the physical face-to-face connection. i miss my workplace. i miss it a lot. i miss my supervisors, my co-workers, and the ridiculous conversations we'd have during the night shifts. i miss laughing so hard that my stomach hurts and tears are streaming out of my eyes. i've been spending an obscene amount of time on social media, and it's been more toxic, time-consuming, and draining than anything. i've uninstalled and reinstalled Snapchat, Instagram, and TikTok countless times over the past week. i honestly lost count of the number of times that i uninstalled one of those apps in a brief moment of determination and productivity, and then reinstalled in a prolonged period of boredom. my sister has been so productive these past few days, and i envy her focus. i'm starting to develop an irrational resentment towards her. she is able to focus for long periods of time, she has the willpower to not snack out of boredom, and she has somehow developed impressive upper body-strength. she goes on daily runs, and she is able to manufacture structure for herself in an otherwise long, uneventful day. the days are beginning to blend together, and i've told myself that i wouldn't let myself succumb to boredom. i try to keep myself busy. i downloaded an audiobook that i listen to in the morning and while i'm walking my dog. it's a charming book, something that i wouldn't be able to get through if i was physically reading it myself. it's called "The Rosie Project." i see so many people rediscovered hobbies and talents, learning how to cook, finally getting to that "stack of books that they've been meaning to get to", creating their own home workouts, and i feel so much guilt. i feel so much guilt that i've been sitting on my ass all day, complaining. not doing much except for refreshing each of my social media apps, hoping for new posts to scroll through. i know that there are things that i should be doing, but i just can't. i know that i should learn to cook because i am going to be moving out soon. i know that i should take this opportunity to work out more often. i know that i've been looking for more time to read, and this extra time has cropped up. i know, i know, i know. i'm beginning to develop familiar resentment towards my friend, who keeps on sending me frightening statistics. stop getting your anxiety all over me. i know that the amount of coronavirus cases in the Santa Clara county has tripled in the past week. i know that the president is shutting down borders and banning international (and even domestic) travel. i know that we are basically trapped. i know that a "shelter-in-place" directive is one of the most serious directives out there, and that it should not be taken lightly. i know that we need to work on flattening the curve, and that we are barely even there. i know that school is probably cancelled for the rest of the semester and that it'll take place virtually, even though the shelter-in-place is only supposed to last until April 7. i know that it'll be extended because the spread of this virus has shown no signs of slowing down. i know that, despite what the media tells us, the elderly are not the only ones who are susceptible. wash your hands, wear a face-mask when you go out, wear gloves, don't touch your face or your mouth. social distancing is the legal mandate. stay 6 feet away. no social gatherings. stay at home, stay at home, stay at home. don't go to the beach and party it up like a fucking idiot. all non-essential businesses shut down. no one knows how long this is going to last. the death toll keeps increasing. our governor may even shut down beaches because ppl aren't taking the shelter-in-place mandate seriously enough. it's crazy, it's uncertain. thankfully my professors have been so understanding, so kind, and so generous. my Ethics professor made our final option (although i'm still going to take it because i have a fucking B in the class right now -- another story for another time). my research methods professor has extended our paper deadline three times, and she sends out announcements reminding us to take care of ourselves. i know that it's a difficult time, but i can't help but feel guilty. yes, it's a difficult time for everyone involved, but surely more so for others? i'm just sitting at home complaining and eating chips. this doesn't apply to me? i don't deserve an extension on anything because i'm not doing anything anyways. it's not like i have anything else to do except my assignments, and i'm still not doing them. i feel like a lazy piece of shit who is just going to take advantage of these extensions to procrastinate even more than i already am. sure, it's lonely at times and i've only really talked in-person with my family for more than a week. but i didn't do anything to deserve this. the real support and recognition should go to those on the frontlines -- the doctors, nurses, infectious disease experts, and so on. props even to my dad, who is a dentist. i'm just sitting at home, having the luxury of doing nothing, having my meals made for me, while my professors are frantically working behind the scenes to make sure we still get our education. i don't deserve this. it always boils down to this, and i'm not sure why. a lingering feeling of guilt or "un-deserved-ness".

#personal #coronavirus

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cutsliceddiced · 4 years

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New top story from Time: What to Know and What to Do About the Global Pandemic

When the world learned about a then-nameless novel coronavirus on the last day of 2019, few could have predicted how it would shape the year about to begin. In less than three months, that disease, COVID-19, has claimed more than 8,000 lives and changed millions more. Countries and regions around the world have taken unprecedented actions, from citywide lockdowns and mass quarantines to sweeping travel and business restrictions.

This issue explores our strange new normal—in China, where COVID-19 still casts a long shadow; in Europe, where health systems are struggling to weather extraordinary challenges; and in the U.S., where a mismanaged political response lulled many into a sense of security now shattered by school and work closures, lost wages and social separation. In words and images, these stories detail the disparate responses—medical, technical and personal—required to slow and halt COVID-19, and, most important, how we can all emerge on the other side.

How TIME Plans to Cover the Ongoing Coronavirus Pandemic

Stefano Guidi—Getty ImagesA health care worker wears protective gear at the San Giovanni Bosco Hospital in Turin, Italy, on Feb. 27

For all of us at TIME, it is in moments like this that we feel our greatest sense of responsibility to provide trusted information and guidance to our audience of more than 100 million people around the world…Read more

The Tech That Could Be Our Best Hope for Fighting COVID-19—and Future Outbreaks

Ed Jones—AFP/Getty ImagesA woman consults a nurse at a walk-up COVID-19 testing booth outside Yangji Hospital in Seoul

Smartphone apps, data analytics and artificial intelligence all make finding and treating people with an infectious disease far more efficient than ever before… Read more

The Trump Administration Fumbled Its Initial Response to Coronavirus. Is There Enough Time to Fix It?

Evan Vucci—APTrump and Fauci, at microphone, address reporters in the Rose Garden on March 13

Throughout Donald Trump’s presidency, an ominous question has hung in the air: How would he handle a truly serious crisis? Now we know. The novel coronavirus pandemic has infected more than 200,000 people… Read more

In the Battle Against Coronavirus, Humanity Lacks Leadership

Getty ImagesA man talks to another man through a makeshift barricade, built to control entry and exit to a residential compound, in Wuhan, China, on March 8.

Many people blame the coronavirus epidemic on globalization, and say that the only way to prevent more such outbreaks is to de-globalize the world. Build walls, restrict travel, reduce trade… Read more

Life in China Has Not Returned to Normal, Despite What the Government Says

Qilai Shen—Bloomberg via Getty ImagesA motorcyclist wearing a protective mask shows his identification at a check point as he leaves a neighborhood in Beijing, China, on March 18, 2020.

As cases of COVID-19 stabilize in China and soar across the U.S., Middle East and Europe, the Beijing government has been busy recasting China as a sanctuary from the deadly virus, which has so far sickened 169,000… Read more

Understanding the Coronavirus Pandemic, in Five Charts

National Institutes of Health/AFP/Getty ImagesThis image obtained on March 12 shows a scanning electron microscope image of SARS-CoV-2 (round blue objects) emerging from the surface of cells cultured in the lab, SARS-CoV-2, also known as 2019-nCoV, is the virus that causes COVID-19, the virus shown was isolated from a patient in the U.S.

Looking at data from countries with robust testing systems does support the idea that the disease’s case fatality rate may be lower than 4%… Read more

‘We Hand-Sanitize and Hold Hands.’ What It’s Like When Your Partner May Have Coronavirus

Judith Haeusler—Getty Images

In February, when Jacob came home from an international trade show in Arizona with a cough, he wasn’t concerned. He slept in a separate room so that his hacking wouldn’t disturb his wife, Caitlin. But within days… Read more

As COVID-19 Crashes the Economy, Workers and Business Owners Wonder if Anything Can Save Them From Financial Ruin

Timothy Fadek—ReduxBusinesses are being forced to close as social distancing to avoid COVID-19 takes hold

The financial crash is hitting hourly workers who only get paid if they show up to work, but it’s also creating a quandary for small businesses whose income has dried up while bills roll in…Read more

The Moral Dilemma of Coronavirus Quarantines

Roger Kisby—ReduxScarcity predictably gives rise to hoarding, denying other people their share of finite goods

A coronavirus quarantine is not easy. It amounts to two weeks of house arrest for a disease you may not have. Your fortnight of confinement is done entirely in the service of others, protecting them from possible infection… Read more

What We Can Learn From Singapore, Taiwan and Hong Kong About Handling Coronavirus

ROSLAN RAHMAN—AFP/Getty ImagesA man wearing a facemask walks past the Rain Vortex display at the airport in Singapore on Feb. 27, 2020.

Since she learned of the coronavirus outbreak, Amy Ho’s daily routine has gotten a bit more complicated. Coming home now involves sanitizing her shoes, washing her hands with soap and water, taking off her medical mask… Read more

Visiting My Sick Mom Could Put Her Life at Greater Risk. But How Many More Times Will I Get to See Her?

Courtesy Nicole ChungThe author and her mother, photographed in Oregon in the 1980s.

Businesses, basketball games, Broadway shows, baby showers—every area of life has been disrupted by the COVID-19 pandemic. It’s impossible to go an hour without hearing of another cancellation… Read more

Why Wearing a Face Mask Is Encouraged in Asia, but Shunned in the U.S.

Kena Betancur—AFP/Getty ImagesA man wears a face mask as he walks inside Grand Central Station in New York City on Mar. 8, 2020.

Cheryl Man is usually the only one wearing a face mask on her New York City subway train. She notices this, but other people on the train notice, too. Usually she just gets odd stares from other commuters… Read more

The Coronavirus Outbreak Is a Critical Test for the European Union. So Far, It’s Failing

Francesca Volpi—Bloomberg/Getty ImagesA temporary emergency room is set up in Brescia to alleviate strain on Italy’s health care system, on March 13

The coronavirus outbreak is the latest in a long line of crises that have thrust the E.U. into existential despair… Read more

‘Is Ordering Takeout Unethical?’ A Medical Ethicist Answers Some of the Most Common Moral Questions Around Coronavirus

David Paul Morris—Bloomberg/Getty ImagesA DoorDash Inc. delivery person carries an order bag outside of a DoorDash Kitchens location in Redwood City, California, U.S., on Friday, Nov. 29, 2019

An epidemic is a test not just of our mettle but our morals. In a time of lockdowns and quarantines, restaurant closings and shuttered schools, the temptation is often to bend the rules… Read more

As U.S. Braces for Coronavirus to Spread, Hospitals Worry About Shortages

Barry Chin—The Boston Globe/Getty ImagesA tent at South Shore Hospital in Weymouth, MA on March 14, 2020.

As doctors in the U.S. have watched Italy’s health care system buckle under the sudden strain of the coronavirus, the magnitude of the problems that could be heading their way have begun to sink in… Read more

In the Wake of the Coronavirus, Here’s Why Americans Are Hoarding Toilet Paper

Alan Powdrill—Getty ImagesSlim pickings: In a time of crisis, we control what little we can.

There’s nothing quite like the behavior of panicky humans—especially when it comes to hoarding. Let a blizzard approach or a hurricane churn toward shore, and we descend on stores, buying up more batteries, bottled water… Read more

The Secret to Keeping Your Kids Happy, Busy and Learning if Their School Closes Due to Coronavirus

Susie Allison

As millions of children are displaced from their schools due to the coronavirus, a sub-crisis has risen for American parents: What will the kids do all day? The widespread school closures have sent a ripple effect into parent… Read more

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kansascityhappenings · 5 years

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Mom claims her 8-month-old got measles because of anti-vaxers

ISRAEL — Fainy Sukenik believes in vaccines, and her four children are up to date on all their shots.

That’s why she’s furious that her baby got measles. Too young to be vaccinated, 8-month-old Shira Goldschmidt developed complications from the virus and had to be hospitalized.

Infectious disease experts say the cause is clear: anti-vaxers.

Both in the United States and in Israel, where Sukenik lives, the ongoing measles outbreaks started with pockets of people who refuse to vaccinate their children. Those anti-vaxers can then spread measles to babies outside their communities because even if parents want to vaccinate their children, babies don’t get their first measles shot until their first birthday.

“I’m so angry and so frustrated,” Sukenik said. “On Facebook I wrote to the anti-vaxers, you are hurting our kids because of your choice.”

Infectious disease experts say this same scenario is bound to happen in the United States, too, and may have happened already: Anti-vaxers who’ve chosen not to vaccinate will spread measles to babies under age 1 whose parents want to vaccinate them but can’t because they’re too young.

“It’s absolutely inevitable,” said Dr. Peter Hotez, a vaccine scientist at the Baylor College of Medicine in Houston.

The virus is so contagious that a baby under the age of 1 could get it by entering a room where someone with measles had been two hours before, according to the CDC.

“Our babies are no different than Israeli babies,” said Dr. William Schaffner, an adviser on vaccines to the US Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. “And the measles virus in Israel is the same virus as here in the US.”

Baby Shira’s story

Shira got sick in December with a runny nose and a 104-degree fever. Her parents took her to the doctor who said it was just a regular virus and she would soon recover.

When the red spots appeared a few days later, her parents knew it was measles.

“It wasn’t just dots on one part of her body. They were everywhere — inside her mouth, between her fingers, in between her toes,” her mother said. “I’m an experienced mother, and never ever have I seen something like this. I was really scared.”

By this time, Shira couldn’t eat and could barely drink, her breathing was shallow, and she was so weak she couldn’t even hold her head up.

Sukenik and her husband took Shira to the hospital, where she was put in isolation and received intravenous fluids.

In December, Sukenik wrote an emotional post on Facebook.

“Let’s talk for a moment about freedom of choice for those who believe that vaccinations are Satan and the source of all evil,” Sukenik wrote in Hebrew. “It should be stated that they have a right to believe in anything they choose, but we should also talk about the price that others pay.”

She suggested that anti-vaxers either “stay in enclosed areas or hold a big banner noting that you are anti-vaccine.”

“Are you ashamed that you don’t vaccinate? No, you’re not ashamed. So you should wear a sign and let me choose whether my kids will play with your kids,” Sukenik told CNN in an interview.

US outbreak started in Israel

The largest and longest of the ongoing measles outbreaks in the United States started last year when an unvaccinated ultra-Orthodox Jewish child in New York visited Israel and became infected.

Then it spread further. Recently an infected person traveled from New York to Michigan and spread measles to 41 people there.

The outbreak in the United States isn’t nearly as large as the one in Israel, where there have been almost 4,000 cases since March of last year. In about the same time period in the United States, there have been less than 1,000 cases.

“These measles outbreaks are remarkably persistent,” Schaffner said.

The results can be devastating: For every 1,000 children that contract measles, one or two will die, according to the CDC.

‘I am not afraid’

Shira turned 1 this week.

“Now, baruch Hashem, Shira is OK, she is happy, she has started walking,” said her mother, using the Hebrew phrase for thanking God.

But she isn’t completely out of the woods. Doctors told her parents she could still experience devastating complications of measles in the years to come.

It rarely happens, but about seven to 10 years after someone has measles, they can develop subacute sclerosing panencephalitis, a disabling and deadly brain disorder, according to the CDC.

Among people who contracted measles during a resurgence in the United States in 1989 to 1991, 4 to 11 out of every 100,000 were estimated to be at risk for developing the disease.

“For years I’m not going to be able to rest from this fear,” Sukenik said.

Sukenik says her Facebook post has received more than 4,000 comments, both positive and negative. She said anti-vaxers have called her a bad mother or theorized that Shira had a genetic defect.

But Sukenik will not be deterred.

“If they want to pick a fight with me, I am not afraid,” she said. “I’ve seen in my own home what it means for a baby to have measles, and the responsibility is on us to make sure this epidemic goes away and this doesn’t happen to another baby.”

from FOX 4 Kansas City WDAF-TV | News, Weather, Sports https://fox4kc.com/2019/04/18/mom-claims-her-8-month-old-got-measles-because-of-anti-vaxers/

from Kansas City Happenings https://kansascityhappenings.wordpress.com/2019/04/18/mom-claims-her-8-month-old-got-measles-because-of-anti-vaxers/

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cries4spiderman · 5 years

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Okay so I'm tired of the vaccination arguement. Seriously people its literally helping your body build an immunity to a virus that once left people scared out of their minds. Polio, in the 40s and 50s had people so scared they closed down swimming pools, employees at theaters told people not to sit so close to people so they wouldn't get infected.

I did an entire research paper on this for my college class on why you should vaccinate your children and how it is beneficial to them and to society as a whole. Especially those that rely on hard immunity to protect them. I went into what BS miconceptions that makes people believe vaccines are bad.

Here's my paper. I know it's shitty. But the facts are there.

Measles. Mumps. Rubella. MMR. I’m sure we’ve all heard these words before. We’ve all heard the doctors, the CDC, and the healthcare officials talk about how important these vaccinations are. We’ve heard the information on how important vaccinations are, enough to be able to recite them forwards and backward in our sleep. However, as important as these vaccinations are, people are still choosing to forgo giving them to their kids. One mother learned the hard way what happens when people who are not vaccinated for MMR and expose a child that is too young to yet receive said vaccination. This mom, whose name and location were not disclosed, had her neighbor watch her child while she went to work. Emily, the child, was eight months old when she began to get sick: “She was so sick for a while and I’d never seen anything like it. So I took her to the doctor. . .” the mom explains (Getty. n. pag.). After the mom took Emily to the hospital, she took a turn for the worst. Emily had contracted Measles Encephalitis, a life-threatening complication of measles. Encephalitis is inflammation of the brain and can cause seizures. Emily died due to her condition a little over a week later. The mom, understandably heartbroken over the loss of her child, was on Facebook in the weeks following her daughter’s death, tring to make sense of the situation. This is how Emily’s mom found out that the neighbor, who had watched Emily while she was at work, had not vaccinated her child with the MMR vaccine. The neighbor posted pictures of her child to Facebook and stated that he was fine; Emily’s mom was furious stating, “My kid is dead because she made that choice!” Emily’s mom confronted her neighbor face to face; her neighbor finally admitted that her child had been sick when Emily was over, but that she did not think much of it. Emily’s mom went on to say, “Please vaccinate your kids, so other moms like me don’t have to watch their baby die” (Getty. n. pag.). This is a perfect example of why parents should make the decision to vaccinate.

No matter how many doctors and studies prove that vaccinations are safe and effective, people believe the many misconceptions about them that aren’t true; this perpetuates the trend of not vaccinating their children. This decision not to vaccinate, causes or leads to an outsized effect that could cause a myriad of problems for not only the individual who isn’t vaccinated, but for the rest of society as well. Therefore, the parents that do choose to vaccinate their children, will not only benefit them but the rest of society. The most effective way to continue to make our world safer to live in is to make the decision to vaccinate.

There are many misconceptions about vaccines that parents believe that cause them not to vaccinate their children, thus, putting their children and society at risk. For example, one substantial misconception is that vaccines bombard our bodies with antigens. Antigens are the toxins, or foreign bodies, that induce an immune response in the body (Klein. n. pag.). In reality, vaccines contain a low number of antigens. This small exposure introduces our immune system to the antigen, thus allowing our body to recognize the disease in the future to fight it off. Furthermore, some parents also believe that vaccines, especially vaccines that require multiple doses, overload our body’s immune system (Klein n. pag.). However, this couldn’t be farther from the truth; vaccines contain a fraction of the “germs” that a child is exposed to in a regular day. According to Dr. Paul Offit, an infectious disease specialist, young children are more than capable of handling the challenges of vaccines and the amount of “germs” they may have (Brody n. pag.). Another fallacy parents believe is that vaccines actually have the parts of a virus contained in it. This also is not true. Vaccines do not contain the actual virus; instead, they only contain an imitation of the virus. This imitation does not cause an illness to occur, it only allows the immune system to recognize the infection and in the future help the body attack it (“Making the Vaccine decision” n. pag.). In addition, some parents criticize the number of vaccines that can be administered to young children. The reason for giving vaccinations at a young age is that children’s immune systems are most vulnerable and any immunity that the child may have inherited from the mother has worn off (Brody, n. pag.). Everyday there are more advances in the medical system that result in more studies and advances being done to further ensure the safety of vaccines. Doctors, Scientists, and healthcare professionals carefully evaluate all the available information about the vaccine to determine whether or not it is safe to distribute to children or not (“What are the reasons to vaccinate my baby” n. pag.). Since vaccinations are only given to children after a lengthy and extremely careful review, vaccines are exceedingly safe to give to your child. Yes, getting vaccines can be a momentarily uncomfortable (painful) experience; no ones likes to see their child in pain; however this negative is completely overshadowed by the advantages of vaccinating. Overall, these misconceptions that parents believe about vaccinations will only continue to put their children and the rest of society at risk for severe health consequences and even death.

What could a continuing drop in vaccination rates could mean for the well-being of society as a whole? The more unvaccinated people there are will allow these viruses to mutate thus causing those that were vaccinated with the original virus susceptible to complications and possibly death. The more parents that choose not to vaccinate their kids, they not only put their own children at risk for diseases but put the rest of society at risk. Most people that don’t vaccinate their children expect that they will be protected by herd immunity (Brody n. pag.). Herd immunity is the resistance to the spread of a disease within a population if a sufficiently high proportion of individuals are immune to the disease through vaccination. For example, in order for unvaccinated people to be protected from measles, 19 out of every 20 people need to be vaccinated in order for herd immunity to be effective (“Herd Immunity: How does it work?” n. pag.). That’s 95 percent of the population that needs to be vaccinated in order for herd immunity to effectively work with the MMR vaccine. If parents continue to make this decision to skip vaccinations, diseases and viruses like measles could mutate. If those viruses mutate, it could cause the vaccinations that people have received to no longer protect them from these devastating viruses, causing viruses like measles virus to once again become something straight from our nightmares. More than that, vaccines not only protect children but other people who might not be able to receive the vaccination, whether it be because they are allergic to a component in the vaccinate or because have cancer or SCIDS (Severely combined immunodeficiency syndrome). These people rely heavily on the herding effect of those that have already been vaccinated from these horrific viruses. As stated previously, herd immunity is when a large percentage of the population is vaccinated from a certain virus, thereby providing the unvaccinated a form of protection. In addition, some might ask if the disease is no longer as common as it once was, is there really a reason to continue to get vaccinated? Japan once asked this same question about pertussis, or whooping cough; in 1974, Japan had a vaccination program with nearly 80 percent of children vaccinated, and that year only 343 cases were reported. By 1976, only 10 percent of children were vaccinated after a rumor had begun that the vaccination was no longer needed. In 1979, a colossal epidemic happened: 13,000 cases of pertussis were reported and resulted in 41 deaths. In 1981, vaccination rates were on the rise and the number of reported pertussis cases fell (“Why immunize” n. pag.). This very question that Japan asked and learned their answer the hard way, it is still important to continue vaccinating for a lesser known virus so it doesn’t mutate. All in all, if vaccine rates continue to drop, there could be catastrophic consequences.

If parents continue to perpetuate these fallacies and mistaken beliefs about vaccinations and continue to choose not to vaccinate their kids, society will be put at risk for viruses that could mutate and cause more devastating effects to our overall health and longevity. People need to continue to get vaccinated to ensure our survival.

Vaccinations will be more profitable to them and society than choosing not to vaccinate and leaving them unprotected to the horrors that these viruses cause. Vaccinations help children fight off diseases that would otherwise wreak havoc throughout their bodies. Due to medical advances, there are more vaccinations available than ever before; these vaccinations can save your child’s life, and that’s not an exaggeration. Take for example, the vaccinations that protect children against viruses like smallpox, measles, whooping cough, polio, and many more. Smallpox, described as one of the deadliest viruses known to mankind due to how highly contagious it is, wreaked havoc on thousands of people’s bodies until 1980 when the virus was eradicated. This virus caused many epidemics at numerous points in history: the earliest written record of smallpox being written in the fourth century in China (“Smallpox” n. pag.). Smallpox causes a rash that first appears on the face and arms, and leaves mild to severe scars that last a lifetime. In the 20th century alone, an estimated 300 million died from smallpox. This startling number caused the World Health Organization to come together and make a program to rid the world of this horrible virus. Smallpox is the only virus on the planet that has been completely eradicated (“Smallpox” n. pag.). If society can reverse this trend of declining vaccination rates, the world could see the eradication of various other diseases and viruses such as Polio. Polio or poliomyelitis, is a virus that attacks the nervous system and can cause paralysis. While Polio isn’t as well known in the United States as it used to be, this horrifying virus left nearly 60,000 children infected, with thousands becoming paralyzed, and caused more than 3,000 deaths (Beaubien. n. pag.). For most of the children that were infected with Polio, their paralysis was temporary, and for other it was permanent. For those whose muscles around the lungs were affected had to spend weeks in an iron lung, a machine that used negative air pressure to assist them with their breathing. In Polio’s peak in the United States, rows upon rows of iron lungs could be found in hospitals. Today more and more hospitals are getting rid of them due to a vaccine that was released in 1955 that helped stop the rise of this virus. 24 years later, due to the widespread vaccination effort, Polio was eliminated from the United States. Today, there are three known people left still using an iron lung to deal with the after-effects of the Polio virus. Measles, is another highly contagious virus has almost been eradicated due to the vaccinations. However, this entirely preventable virus is on the rise again due to the decline of the number of children receiving this vaccination. Measles, also called rubeola, is a virus that causes tiny white spots with bluish-white centers on a red background found inside the mouth on the cheek (“Measles” n. pag.). Someone can be infected with measles and not present (show) any symptoms until 10 to 14 days later! That's a ridiculous amount of people and surfaces to come into contact with and infect other people with measles all before a child presents with the symptoms. Measles also causes many complications that can be life-threatening such as encephalitis (swelling of the brain) which can cause seizures, hallucinations, confusion, and loss of sensation (“Measles” n. pag.). Another major advantage of vaccinations is cost savings, getting a vaccine is exponentially less expensive than hospital bills, lost wages, and the short and long time disabilities that can be the result of these vaccine-preventable diseases. All in all, to improve the wellbeing of our society as a whole, it is beneficial to have children vaccinated.

In summary, vaccinating your kids will greatly benefit them and the rest of society by allowing them to live healthier, longer lives. While most misconceptions about vaccines have been debunked, people allow these misconceptions to help them make the decision to not vaccinate, thus allowing the risk of causing an outsized effect that could last a lifetime. The parents that do make the vaccine decision, help benefit not only their children but the rest of society. Vaccines helped end smallpox, and if vaccines rates can get on the rise again, we could completely eradicate other deadly diseases and continue to make our planet a healthier one to live in. If we want to leave these nightmarish viruses as a thing of the past, parents should continue to vaccinate their children to ensure their overall health and longevity and to ensure the survival of our society as a whole.

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