#my lymph nodes behind my ear are swollen as fuck

[swampgallows]

woke up feeling bad and i think its a tooth infection. gums bleeding and lymph node behind my ear visibly swollen to fuck overnight. occasional chest warmth. fast heartbeat (but yknow, anxiety). ache in jaw and shoulder and mild headache, all left side. ive put off getting a root canal on this tooth for literal years now because i kept trying to get a job and possible insurance (to no avail) and now i think it's finally rearing its head. im not in severe pain but i do feel really fatigued and achey. left a message w the endo but if i manage to fall back asleep and feel worse then ill call his emergency number

#blathering #dentistry /

[scentedluminarysoul]

Ummmm I have pretty much all the symptoms for fucking rubella??? including a swollen lymph node behind my ear??? where would I fucking get rubella! I'm vaccinated too!

#i know #don't google snd shit #but i didn't change anything and have no know allergies #or eaten new food before it started #what the fuck #i don't have a fever #but I don't get fevers

[kissingwookiees]

on top of the fact that im tossing and turning cause my lymph node behind my ear is so swollen i can feel it at all times, someone’s fucking car alarm keeps going off.

#also took a shower and almost passed out but i think that’s just #yknow combo of my anxiety being peaked bc im sick + hot shower #im checking my temp regularly too and it has not spiked once #is my body even fighting this infection like the lymph node is implying? #doesn’t feel like it!

[cathedralcomic]

Are you planning to update Mothshadow’s ref with the new colors?

YUP! :D idk when that’ll be comin but uhh soon hopefully

#ask #ive been sick so my focus has been shaky @_@ #im gonna talk about it in the tags I DONT CARE #My fucking lymph nodes are all swollen and tender on one side of my head behind my ear and ive been in pain for like 4 days straight #BUT IM GETTING BETTER #i got antibiotics *runescape dancing gif* #Ok im done

[shitpuncher]

feeling sad and paranoid which always happens at night how do i zap that part of my brain out

#also i was looking at my medical records and apparently i was diagnosed w insomnia at some point honestly i dont remember #also NONE of my records from my psychiatrist are in there??? what???????????? literally no mention of his name why is that #idk why i keep letting doctors tell me what i am they keep fucking up and then getting surprised abt it #hm :// #but also cannot alienate doctors in my brain cause they r just busy #also can someone tell me why my doctors visit cost me 200 dollars cause i went in bc my behind the ear lymph nodes have been swollen for tw #months and they didnt do anything except give me a freaking flu shot #wait i just remembered #the insomnia thing was from when my mom cslled the cops on me n tried to have me institutionalized #oof #ouch #owie #yes i am sharing too much thank u for asking

[ultimatetrashyfanfic]

Still loving Komahina and I also love hurt/comfort sickfics so this was pretty inevitable. Nagito is very good for sickfics. Anyway, I wanted to show these two trying to navigate a bad illness and all the frightening and sometimes embarrassing things that come with that. Post-hope arc again. With fluff because I can’t NOT do fluff. I hope you enjoy it - Circle

Also on A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34280557

Warning: descriptions of vomiting (I didn’t describe the puke itself or anything, don’t worry, I’m emetophobic myself) and high fevers/vague descriptions of medical procedures.

Hajime noticed at the beach this time - and just like every time, he kicked himself for not noticing before he’d made Nagito leave the cabin. He thought back to when Nagito stumbled as they walked across the island, about how he’d chased every meagre bite of breakfast with a gulp of water like it was difficult to get down. Hajime hadn’t been vigilant enough, and now they were sitting together on the sand and Nagito was leaning far too heavily against his shoulder.

“Nagito?” Hajime said cautiously. When Nagito turned his head, Hajime hastily put a hand to his forehead, managing to catch it before Nagito veered away. “I knew it. You’re burning up.”

Some old routine. Nagito would deflect, then grow self-deprecating; Hajime would shut that down, then begrudgingly carry Nagito back to their cabin. They’d done this dance together over and over, whenever Nagito’s weakened state and illness made something like a common cold seem as serious as smallpox.

It didn’t seem so bad for the next couple of days. Nagito had a fever, but it was a low one, and he ate when Hajime asked and seemed alert and talkative. Hajime felt comfortable leaving him in the care of their friends while he went to Mikan for medicine and advice - though his friends proved to need supervision of their own. He returned to his cabin just as Sonia and Gundham were leaving, reassured when Sonia reported that Nagito wasn’t any worse. At the time, he didn’t notice the splashes of brown paint on Gundham’s bandages or Sonia’s dress.

Hajime stopped short when he stepped over the threshold. There was a gigantic swirly witchy symbol covering almost the whole wall above the bed, the heavy smell of paint in the air. Nagito was peeping over the top of the bedsheets, eyes sparkling.

“What the hell is that?” Hajime couldn’t even sound angry. He was just bloody tired. Why were the Ultimates so dramatic?

“Sonia and Gundham did a ritual for my good health,” Nagito explained. His lip twitched and Hajime knew he was fighting a smile. “I was so honoured to have two Ultimates working to help me that I thought it’d be unspeakably ungrateful to protest.”

“Oh, shut up, Nagito! I can see you just think it’s funny,” Hajime snapped. Nagito snorted and disappeared under the sheets, spluttering.

Hajime sighed and took another look at the giant eyesore on his wall. At least it was painted fairly neatly - and he knew Gundham and Sonia’s hearts were in the right places even if this particular stunt was irritating. He supposed they were trying to help in a weird way. Sonia went along with anything Gundham said, and Hajime didn’t expect Gundham to know you shouldn’t paint giant symbols on other people’s walls without permission. Gundham navigated social interactions like he was going into battle; Hajime doubted he would ask permission for something he clearly saw as a good deed.

“Doesn’t it make your boring plain wall more interesting?” Nagito piped up.

“Don’t push your luck, Nagito.”

“Right. Who knows what pushing my luck will do.”

Later on, Hajime would worry that he’d jinxed them somehow, that whatever strange force was behind Nagito’s Ultimate Luck was malevolent and wanted to teach them a lesson for mocking it - because that night brought disaster. Nagito was usually exceptionally clingy when they were in bed, often to the point where Hajime got so warm he had to pry him off, but now he curled up right on the very edge of the mattress, well away from Hajime. Hajime knew he was awake from his strangely measured breaths and his unusual stillness; Nagito was a restless sleeper. He frequently kicked Hajime in the night and rolled right on top of him and yanked the blankets away. Sometimes Hajime felt like he’d get more sleep on a busy runway as airplanes roared overhead.

Hajime poked Nagito in the back, careful not to tip him right off the bed. “Hey. What’s up?”

He didn’t get a response. Hajime sighed. “Do you think I’m stupid? I know you’re not asleep. You never sleep like that. So what’s going on?”

He wound his arms around Nagito’s waist and tried to pull him closer to get a better look at him, but Nagito winced and slapped his hands away with surprising force. “Don’t,” he gasped, curling up even tighter. “Don’t press…”

“What? Is it your stomach?” This was new. Nagito had been off his food lately, but then he frequently found it difficult to eat. “Do you feel nauseous?”

Silence. Getting information from Nagito was like getting blood from a stone sometimes. Hajime felt Nagito’s forehead in the gloom. His fever had definitely gone up and his skin was clammy. Hajime let his fingers trail down Nagito’s cheeks to his jawline and felt along his neck - the lymph nodes were so swollen they felt like two throbbing ping pong balls.

“Fuck,” Hajime muttered. “I thought we might get through this one without anything too bad.”

He was expecting some strange rambling about how this bad luck would inspire them to hope for good things in the future, but Nagito still didn’t speak. He rolled over and shuffled across the bed, tucking his burning head right under Hajime’s chin. It worried Hajime more than any words could; Nagito didn’t actively seek out comfort unless he was feeling really terrible.

“Hey,” Hajime mumbled, having to spit out a mouthful of Nagito’s unruly curls. “Ugh, your hair keeps getting in my mouth. Look, I know you’re sick and I’m sure it must feel crappy, but you’ll be okay. You’ll probably feel better by tomorrow morning. Right?” Hajime knew he sounded like he was trying to convince himself as well as Nagito.

More silence. Hajime could feel Nagito shivering, and wound his arms around him quickly. He usually teased Nagito for being so chilly all the time, needing his jacket whenever the sun dipped behind the clouds and getting goose pimples in the air conditioned cabins, but it didn’t seem remotely funny anymore. Nagito trembled like he was buried up to his neck in snow, but he certainly didn’t feel cold.

“You’re burning up. Fuck, I think I need to get Mikan,” Hajime said. He felt a hand shoot out and grab hold of his t-shirt, clinging for dear life. Hajime knew he could easily pry Nagito off, but he couldn’t bring himself to try at a time like this. “Okay, don’t freak out. I’ll stay. But I’m going if you get any worse.”

It was after midnight when the vomiting started. They’d already been in the bathroom since eleven, huddled together on the floor by the toilet, sharing a blanket. Nagito kept sleepily begging Hajime to go back to bed and leave him there, but he wouldn’t budge.

“Shut up,” he mumbled. “Don’t act like you wouldn’t be here with me if our roles were reversed.”

“That’s different. You’re you and I’m me,” Nagito whispered. He let his burning head rest against Hajime’s shoulder despite his pleading.

“It shouldn’t be different though. It’s not different, not to me. You’re sick and I wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway if I knew you were in here on your own feeling miserable.”

“You have such a kind heart, Hajime. To think you could care so much about someone as worthless as I am.”

“Nagito. If you don’t stop that I’m going to shove your head down the toilet and flush, no matter how sick you are,” Hajime threatened. “You’re not worthless. For the millionth time.”

“You’d think you’d have got tired of saying that by now,” Nagito said.

“I have. Very fucking tired. But I’ll keep saying it until you believe me. Now shut up and try to get some rest. And let me know when you need to throw up. You’re in a position right now that would have you puking down my front and it’s making me nervous.”

Thankfully, Nagito was exceptionally neat about it when he did have to lean over the toilet to vomit. Hajime hooked his white curls back behind his ears and tried not to groan too much. It was unpleasant, obviously, but it was clear Nagito was the one suffering the most right now. He didn’t need Hajime moaning in his ear for him to hurry up - and as the minutes ticked by Hajime found his embarrassment and mild disgust morphing into anxiety. He knew Nagito hadn’t had much to eat these past few days, but the retching and heaving went on well after Nagito had nothing left to bring up. Nagito’s cheeks grew flushed and blotchy, and it wasn’t long before Hajime was the only thing holding him up over the loo, his arms wound around Nagito’s chest. He could feel Nagito’s heart pounding hard against his arms, on and on.

“Come on,” Hajime said eventually. “I’ll get you a bucket or something. You’re not really throwing anything up now anyway. You need to lie down.”

Nagito didn’t respond. He was breathing heavily, his face dripping with sweat. He was gripping the porcelain so hard his knuckles bleached white. Hajime had to pry off his fingers one by one.

“Come on,” he repeated. “I’ll get you something to wipe your face. I know you feel miserable but you can’t stay tethered to the toilet until you die.” He scooped Nagito up into his arms, cradling him as carefully as a newborn. Nagito felt frighteningly hot and damp.

Shaky arms wound around Hajime’s neck and a weak, hoarse voice whispered into his ear. “Death would be welcome at this point…”

“Stop it,” Hajime said firmly. “Don’t go all melodramatic on me. You sound like Gundham.” He carried Nagito to the bed and ran a cloth under the tap. “Here. Shall I do it for you? Then you don’t have to sit up.”

Nagito didn’t react, staring up at the ceiling. He seemed to decide to ignore Hajime at will, and it annoyed him almost as much as Nagito’s self-deprecation.

“Fine, don’t talk to me,” Hajime snapped. “I’ll scrub your face like a baby if you’re going to act like one.” Despite his tone, Hajime ran the damp cloth over Nagito’s skin with unbelievable care and tenderness, going carefully around his eyes and mouth.

Nagito’s eyes flickered over to him. “Well, Nurse Hinata, what’s your diagnosis? Is it curtains for me now? Is this world finally finished with me?”

“No! God, I’ve never known anybody so dramatic,” Hajime said angrily. “It’s just a little stomach flu or something like that. Don’t be so stupid.” He was almost shouting now. It was far easier to get angry than to admit to Nagito that he was scared too, that the knot of panic in his chest was getting tighter by the minute.

Nagito stared at him pityingly. Hajime wanted to slap him and clasp him close all at once.

“I’m going to get Mikan.” He turned to leave, but felt a clammy hand grasp his wrist and hold it with a surprisingly firm, desperate strength. Hajime turned back. “Nagito..?”

Nagito had his head bent, his lips pressed together. He didn’t speak, but he clung to Hajime’s wrist so tightly his fingernails dug in.

“But we need help. I’ll be as fast as I can, I promise. I’ll run all the way,” Hajime tried.

The hand squeezed even tighter.

“Oh fucking hell,” Hajime groaned. “Okay, I won’t leave. But we still need help, so you need to let me go for a second, okay? I promise I won’t go past the door to the cabin.”

A pause. Then Nagito slowly unclamped his fingers and let Hajime break free. He immediately flew to the cabin door, opened it wide and took a deep, long breath inwards. “HEY!” he bellowed, as loud as he could possibly manage. His voice boomed through the still night air. “WE NEED HELP! COME OUT AND HELP US!”

He yelled the same simple lines over and over until a door opened. He’d rather hoped for somebody sensible like Twogami or Mahiru; he ended up with Kazuichi. It made sense really - the sensible people would be asleep at three in the morning, and Kazuichi’s cabin was directly across from Hajime’s.

“What the hell are you screaming about, Hajime?” Kazuichi whined, scrubbing his eyes. His hands were covered with oil and he smeared it across his cheeks. It looked like he was wearing bad war paint. He’d doubtless been hunched over some project he was working on. It usually annoyed Hajime to see his friend neglecting vital things like sleep for his machines, but he was grateful for Souda’s insomnia tonight.

“Kazuichi, come over here, I need your help. Nagito is sick. Like, really sick. I need you to go get Mikan. Please.”

“What? Why can’t you do it?” Kazuichi said indignantly.

“I just… I don’t want to leave him alone, okay?!” Hajime muttered, flustered.

“Awww, Hajime! You loooove him,” Kazuichi cried, spluttering with laughter.

Hajime heard Nagito snort behind him too. He must’ve heard. He felt his cheeks flush crimson. “Kazuichi, will you just fucking go before I throttle you!”

“Stop yelling at me, I’m doing you a favour!” Kazuichi cried, looking wounded - but he ran off in the direction of Mikan’s cabin obediently.

None of them slept much that night. Mikan worked diligently, trying antibiotics and saline drips and ice packs, but she couldn’t get Nagito’s fever down, getting more and more tearfully apologetic as if she was personally blighting him herself. “His fever is dangerously high. We have to find a way of lowering it,” she muttered over and over like a mantra, shaking her head.

Anti-nausea drugs stopped the persistent stomach pains, but Nagito was clearly far from comfortable. He stopped smirking and teasing Hajime, stopped laughing at Kazuichi’s silly jokes. He stopped putting himself down and babbling about how the four Ultimates were so full of kindness and hope to be fussing so much over someone like him. He just stared vacantly up at the ceiling, his eyes foggy and over-bright, his cheeks flushed.

They each toiled in their own way until dawn, when they finally collapsed with exhaustion, squashing up together on Hajime’s bed. They lay there undisturbed until Twogami came looking for them, concerned by the absences at breakfast. He shook Hajime awake, wanting to know why there were four people curled around each other like puppies on his bed, but all Hajime could focus on was Nagito. His head was resting on Hajime’s chest, burning hot through his shirt. The fever was still there. He’d woken up but the nightmare was still going.

It was a mercy that Twogami found them. He sent Mikan off to sleep in her own cabin and made Hajime give a detailed account of the previous night (he let Kazuichi remain asleep at the foot of the bed. Twogami knew he wouldn’t sleep again if he was disturbed, and he wasn’t in the way).

“If he gets any worse, we might have to contact Future Foundation,” Twogami said thoughtfully. “They’ll have more complex medical equipment.”

“We don’t need them,” Hajime snapped. “Especially Makoto.”

He’d thought Kazuichi was still sleeping, but he snorted. “Because Nagito gushes over Makoto. That’s why you don’t like him,” he mumbled sleepily, sitting up.

“Shut up, you hypocrite. Why didn’t you like Gundham before?” Hajime argued.

“I don’t know why you get so fussed, Makoto looks a lot like you.”

“He doesn’t!”

Twogami sighed and crossed his arms like an exasperated parent. “If you two want to bicker you can go do it outside. Nagito needs peace and quiet.” He sounded like a parent too, and the other men quietened immediately and focused on Nagito again.

Nagito didn’t seem to wake up properly. He could open his eyes (though this looked like it was taking an extreme amount of effort) but he didn’t speak or even react very much when somebody spoke to him. He barely blinked when Hajime tried to make him sip water or Kazuichi tapped on his cheek and called his name. Mikan was forced to give him fluids intravenously. When the afternoon brought no improvements, Hajime let Twogami contact Future Foundation for better medicine.

Hajime spent another anxious, sleepless night desperately holding Nagito - though he didn’t feel like Nagito. He hadn’t spoken a single word all day, and though Hajime was trying to be optimistic, he could feel panic pooling in his stomach like oil. Would the medicine get here in time? Would it even work? Nagito was so sick, as sick as he’d been with that awful Despair Disease. Hajime remembered how he’d left Nagito alone then; he wouldn’t make that mistake this time. He’d be there for Nagito - if he was even aware of Hajime at this point. It seemed less and less likely. He wasn’t even opening his eyes now. All Hajime could do was hold him, hold onto this lifeless, unresponsive husk that sucked in shallow breaths far too fast. He wondered if the real Nagito was somewhere deep inside, floating aimlessly, or if the fever had fried his brain completely and obliterated the strange, smart, fascinating person Hajime knew. No, surely he was being stupid. It couldn’t be that bad, right? Unless Mikan and Twogami were just being tactful. Maybe they both expected Nagito to perish and just didn’t want to snuff out Hajime’s hope. He clutched the burning body tighter.

“Don’t you dare die,” he whispered fiercely, cupping Nagito’s cheeks. “I mean it. Not after everything that’s happened. You can’t just give up now. You woke up once before. It took you the longest of everyone, but you still came back. Do it again, because I’ll lose my fucking mind if anyone else dies. You’d better fight this.” His eyes burned. Several tiny droplets of water fell onto Nagito’s face.

Hajime waited. He silently begged Nagito to open his eyes, whisper something coherent, clutch his hand… but nothing happened. Hajime held him all night, terrified of drifting off to sleep in case he woke up and found Nagito stone cold and white and still. He’d found Nagito dead once. Bloody and bound, his eyes bulging with pain… No. It wasn’t real, even if it felt real. It wasn’t real it wasn’t real it wasn’t real.

Morning brought the stronger medicine from the Future Foundation. Twogami explained what it was and how it worked, but Hajime was so fuzzy-headed with lack of sleep and stress that he didn’t take any of it in.

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” Twogami said doubtfully. “Mikan set up the IV so you don’t have to worry about anything. You could leave one of us here, go get some rest.” He tried for ten minutes to convince him, but Hajime shook his head.

“I can’t leave him. Not until he’s better.”

“You’re so stubborn. At this rate we’ll need to start nursing you along with him,” Twogami muttered, but he left them alone. Mikan left as soon as she could too, apologising even more than usual. Maybe Hajime had been glaring at her? It wasn’t her fault, he just had a splitting headache, but he obviously couldn’t leave to go apologise. Not now.

Time had started to blur. Minutes crawled by like days, but then suddenly an entire hour could disappear in a second. Hajime stayed sitting by Nagito’s side, periodically holding his hand, begging him to squeeze his back. Nagito lay still, but his breathing had evened out considerably since he’d been given this new medication. Hajime tried tickling at his cheeks and smoothing back his hair and Nagito twitched and sighed - tiny reactions, but they were reactions. Hajime hardly dared let himself hope and he definitely didn’t dare let himself sleep, though he was so tired now he had shooting pains behind his eyes.

Later - much later - Kazuichi came back, bringing Hajime toast and coffee. He looked startled by the state he was in. “Good God, Hajime, you look worse than Nagito!”

“Thanks a bunch,” Hajime grumbled. He didn’t touch the toast but took a grateful gulp of coffee.

“Seriously, bro, when did you last sleep? Or eat? Or… shower?” Kazuichi asked, sitting cross-legged at the foot of the bed.

“That’s rich, coming from you.”

“Have you seriously not slept since he got sick?”

“How can I?” Hajime snapped. “Will you please stop bleating obvious questions at me, Kazuichi. Yes, I’m fucking tired and hungry and I look like shit right now, I know. But I’m trying to make sure my boyfriend doesn’t die right in front of me, so forgive me if I can’t give much of a fuck about anything else! I don’t have the energy to deal with you right now. So can you please just shut up or fuck off!” He was practically screaming by the end of it. Part of him really wanted Kazuichi to yell back, start a real fight; he was so tired and so frustrated and it was so easy to take it out on Kazuichi.

But Souda didn’t argue. He didn’t speak, but his eyes filled up and he ducked his head to hide his quivering lips. Hajime felt a sudden wave of shame wash over his head. He didn’t want to make Kazuichi cry (even if that was pretty easy to do).

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, putting his head in his hands. “Yes, I’m tired. Tired and miserable. It’s not your fault.”

“I know you’re tired. I thought I could stay here. Keep watch over Nagito for a bit. You can sleep next to him,” Kazuichi said, his voice cracking.

Hajime felt worse than ever. “Shit. I’m sorry.” He grabbed Kazuichi and pulled him into a clumsy hug. “You’re a good friend. Better than me.”

“I’m your best friend, right?” Kazuichi asked hopefully. “You’re not just being nice? Am I actually just annoying?”

“You are annoying. But you’re still my best friend.”

Kazuichi grinned. “Okay. And you’ll get some rest now? I think you really need it, Hajime. You’re so grouchy when you’re tired.”

Hajime rather wanted to grumble about that comment, but he didn’t want to prove Souda’s point. “You’ll wake me up if anything changes with Nagito? Even something tiny. Even if you’re not sure it’s a change, can you wake me up to check?”

“Yes. God, you’re worse than Peko with Fuyuhiko. Do you really love him, Hajime?” Kazuichi asked.

“Look, we’re not at a pre-teen sleepover, Kazuichi. I don’t want to sit here with you and gossip about boys,” Hajime said, shuffling close to Nagito. He wasn’t sure - maybe it was wishful thinking - but he thought Nagito’s body was slightly cooler.

“See what I mean. Grumpy,” Kazuichi mumbled.

Hajime didn’t bother to reply this time. He didn’t think he’d manage to get a wink of sleep with all the stress and worry, but he was out like a light almost immediately, so exhausted he didn’t even dream. He wasn’t sure how long Kazuichi kept vigil at their bedside (several hours, he guessed. Kazuichi was a good friend) but he was gone when Hajime opened his eyes. The silvery dawn light was filtering in through the windows, bathing their furniture in a soft glow. Something was burrowing into Hajime’s chest like a small animal.

“Nagito..?” Hajime mumbled, still half-asleep.

“Of course. Who else do you invite into bed, Hajime?”

“Nobody, dumbass.” Then it clicked and Hajime was instantly awake, peering through the dim light. Nagito truly was awake, looking very pale and sleepy and weak, but his eyes were open. Hajime clutched onto him at once, holding him as tight as he dared. Nagito felt as fragile as glass, like he might shatter altogether if Hajime squeezed too hard.

“Careful, you’ll yank my IV out,” Nagito mumbled, but he buried his face into Hajime’s shoulder too. His skin was still clammy, still warm, but not that terrifying burning anymore. Nagito felt clammy all over. “You should wait till I’ve showered before we do all the tearful reunions.”

“Shut up. I need a shower too,” Hajime said hoarsely. He tried to swallow the lump in his throat. “Fuck, it’s good to see you awake and talking.”

“How long was I out?”

“Several days. How much do you remember?”

Nagito paused. “I remember the night Mikan and Kazuichi came. It gets a bit muddled after that. Someone tried to make me drink quite a few times. Nothing much then. Except…”

“Except?”

“Perhaps I was dreaming. I couldn’t imagine somebody caring so much for someone like-”

“Oh Christ, I haven’t missed that,” Hajime groaned. “Just tell me what you remember!”

“You. Your voice, telling me not to die. Though it sounded more like you were threatening me not to die. And something dripping on me.”

Hajime felt his face flushing. It seemed like years ago that he’d hovered over Nagito and frantically begged him to keep fighting. “Trust you to remember something embarrassing like that.”

“Were you truly crying?”

“What else would I be doing? Drooling on you?”

“You hardly ever cry.”

“I’ve never seen you that sick before,” Hajime admitted. He held Nagito in the hug so he couldn’t see his face. It was somehow easier to blurt it all out in the gloomy morning half-light. “It was… fucking horrible. I didn’t dare sleep. I haven’t felt scared like that since the simulation. I thought I was going to lose you… just like Chiaki.”

There was a long, pregnant pause. Hajime could feel Nagito’s breath tickling against his neck.

“We smell awful,” Nagito finally whispered.

Hajime started spluttering with laughter. “For God’s sake! Can’t you ever be serious?”

“You know I don’t have any idea how to comfort people. But… you shouldn’t worry so much when I get sick. Not just because I’m me, but because my luck usually comes through for me eventually. It hasn’t let me die yet. Well, except in the simulation.”

“Shut up. Don’t talk about that,” Hajime said quickly. “Izuru has luck too. So that should mean I’m stuck with you forever.”

He rather expected Nagito to shoot back with some sort of self-deprecating response like “poor you” but Nagito was silent for a while. He was practically in Hajime’s lap now, his skinny legs wound around Hajime’s waist.

“Thank you.”

“Hm?” The words were so quiet Hajime barely heard.

“Thank you for taking care of me. Nobody has ever done that before,” Nagito said, his voice as light and delicate as the dawn. He still found it so hard to accept things like this. He’d spent so many years building walls around him and then Hajime had come along and blasted through them in an instant. Nagito felt raw and vulnerable and exposed - but there was a warm feeling in his stomach too, new and unfamiliar.

“I’d do it again in a heartbeat,” Hajime promised.

“You’ll probably have to. My immune system is awful.”

“Then I will. Needing things isn’t bad, Nagito. You’re not meant to do things all alone.”

“The thing we need right now is a wash.”

“Yes. We’d better get that over with first,” Hajime agreed - but despite their words they both remained in their embrace, clinging to each other with desperate strength, long after that sun had risen properly.

#danganronpa #danganronpa sdr2 #dr sickfic #sickfic #dr emeto #emeto tw #hajime hinata #nagito komaeda #kazuichi soda #danganronpa 2 #komahina #mod circle

[iam-warrior]

I have an urge to cry..

Don't worry i'm not.

I'm listening to dead and gone by TI and focusing on something other than the fact that I'm uncomfortable and my stomach is turning. Why though?

No like seriously that question is as much for you as it is me.

I lost my job in february, shortly after I started taking my narcolepsy medication regularly. It allowed me to stay awake but made me feel like I was ran strictly on anxiety.

I've tried to work 2 separate organized jobs since then. I even went to do some yard work for my boyfriends parents and spent at least 30 hours on the bushes. My job was to cut the maples, I got obsessed with leveling the dirt too.

That was when I for real for real new something was wrong.

Like the kinda wrong that makes a 23 year old girl stop working all year, miss out on her summer, and making the decision to stop driving.

***Keeps turning music down but there all explaining my life rn***

~My head~

Poor girl, I didn't protect her like I should in the past.

I played soccer for a majority of life. I remember 2 seperate moments when I was knocked out. Both times I jumped up and tried to go back in position or begged to go back in. I've always wanted to be involved.

On top of the 2 (not 3) years ago I had a golf cart accident. I don't remember much for the night it happened. I woke up the next afternoon in a bed in geneva with an aching should. Like real bad. On my way home I took a nap in the back seat of my impala. Fuck my ex, however I was grateful he called me to try to hook up that night, lol.

Woke my ass up. When I got home I walked past my cousin and had a short conversation.

"are you okay?" she said

"I have to go to bed." I kept saying.

The next morning I asked my cousin to take me to the hospital for my shoulder.

When the doctor came in, I don't remember any questions I was asked except..

"Did you hit your head?"

"~I honestly don't know~" she met me with a concerned look.

I don't remember any of the test or the face of the person (I believe was a woman) telling me I was being admitted downtown.

"~Will you call my (dad/parents)~" I soon would regret saying to my cousin. I'm grateful for the help I received in my time of need.

However I'm not a dumbass. I've seen most of their moves and had to set a personal boudry. Obviously I'm at a disadvantage, please don't abuse that. Kinda fucked up bc I called my father, who has accused me of being a drug addict and begged for financial help. He is helping with my car note. I think he's finally starting to understand somethings actually wrong.

Which is fare,.when I was medicated for narcolepsy, I didn't even know what I was trying to say but saying a trillion words.

Honestly within the madness there was clarity. But once someone sees your anxious, I guess you can't think or make valid points.

ESPECIALLY at the dr. God I'm so frustrated.

I'm been having what I call "stuck" moments. I'm convinced there seizures now.

why would I say something like that, anxiety?

Nope! It's the fact i've had uncontrollable spasms that have covered my whole body. My boyfriend even pulled a Jaw Breakers out of my mouth once.

~HE IS THE BIGGEST FUCKING BLESSING~

Besides that, I get localized muscles spasms daily.

Now my fatigue is wow, way worse which I didn't think was possible.

Warrior; unmedicated

My head hurts, the screens and music make it worse but keeps me awake.

I'm cold but not running a fever. I'm finding a new liking for sweats and these sonic slippers that are more like socks. A blanket and pillow called the fluff, bc well there fluffy.

My neck, My Back..

My legs, arms and all that!

Yeah well they feel weird.

I wouldn't say they all hurt, some areas do.

It's more uncomfortable I'd say.

My head hurts really bad and I can't stop thinking about last night. I don't even remember what happened but I had a 'stuck' moment and Logan asked me..

"Do you even know what happened"

That made me sad, exhaustion overcame me. He told me it was okay after but like, no the fuck it's not.

I mean it might have to be. Hopefully cleveland gives me some answers.

My stomach usually upset, my headaches come and go throughout the day; unless it takes me completely out. Bowel movements changing.

Had some nipple discharge a few months back, that was odd. There was an ultrasound done and didn't spark any interest. Good sign!

My short term memory isn't great but I really remember a lot of feeling and periods from my past. especially if something triggers a flashback.

***Adjust lighting so head had relief***

With all that being said, I started thinking about this lump on the base of my skull behind my ear.

I felt it and it flashed me back to a serious moment I had with one of my friends in 4th grade.

I asked my friend about what I'm assuming is a lymph node that was swollen around my groin. My friend immediately told me I should talk to my mom and get it looked at. Smart girl.

Anywho I told her, don't remember anything else about it. probably got the same answer I've gotten over the years.

"you're probably fighting an infection your fine."

oh okay cool yo.

Long story short, my body has gotten bigger since 4th grade. That lump is still there, not one on the other side. However, I did go to the gyno recently. I was diagnosed with Cin1 doesn't mean you will or won't give you cancer, just that your at higher risk. WIll continue with recommended pap screenings.

The bump behind my left ear, has not shrunk, may have grown but I can't fucking remember. I can tell you that I've had it longer than the head injury, I have made my doctor clear of this multiple times.

Swollen, painless lymph nodes in the neck, armpits or groin

Unexplained weight loss

Fever

Soaking night sweats

Coughing, trouble breathing or chest pain

Weakness and tiredness that don't go away

Pain, swelling or a feeling of fullness in the abdomen

So orange happens often but purple is and has remained the same.

But this is all psych?

Well that's what my primary care physician keeps telling me. I should be on an antidepressant, but I'm not depressed?

For a short period of time was I? Absolutely. I lost my job, but I was relieved when I left that place.

I have in the past had many psych symptoms such as anxiety. However, the anxiety has decreased immensely, I do not feel depressed and I've been on antidepressants before. Didn't work for me.

Since I have shown signs of mental health in the past, my doctor refuses to take me seriously.

Let me ask you this doc!

Why when I was making dinner last night, did I see stars and have to sit down? Why do I at times have to verbally pep talk myself, both in front of people and on my own to get to a piece of furniture before collapsing? Why is my boyfriend asking me if I remember what happened before telling me I like fell over/collapsed and came back to distraught quickly after on the couch last night. Why don't I have the energy to have sex with my sexy man? or play with my friends son which I love. Or go hang out with friends? Or drive? or plan for my future? is it all psych?

So you tell me doc. I feel hopeful, I pray every day. Now, as dramatic as it may seem. When I do cry it's when I pray. I pray to God and thank him for the many amazing miracles I have and continue to have in my life. I know saying I think I could have something like this sounds kind of crazy. However if you don't believe I'm not crazy for thinking this, do me a favor. Youtube some of the people who have had to advocate for themselves.

By the way those symptoms are for lymphoma.

I'm not saying 100% anything besides something is wrong. The type of wrong where my head hurts and I feel like I'm dying. Not in an anxiety way, but in a way where I feel like my body is progressively getting more and more fatigued. Like I can feel the life slipping out of my body.

I'm hopeful for friday.

Stay health, stay happy, stay positive.

Thanks for reading <3

Have a good one!

#riseup #tired #notdoneyet #healing #alonewithGod #faithful

[ripplestitchskein]

Found a small lump in my neck a few weeks back. Had it checked out, written off as a cyst or a swollen lymph node, no biggie. I have several others on my head, I’ve always had them, had some removed that were fucking with my hair.

Now there is a much bigger one behind in ear on the same side though. I was late to work freaking out about it.

I’m still freaking out and we’ve entered the point of freak out where my loved ones are just kinda like “Omg stop”.

Anxiety is the worst. Hypochondria is the worst.

#anxiety #hypochondria

[ddontyyoukknow]

I feel like such a failure because I keep waking up at the unproductive hours of 10am and Im not sure about my daca application because I missed the appointment and my room is a mess and I've been spiraling about my dissociation and I have a swollen itchy lymph node behind my ear and I'm running out of money my account was overdrawn last night. I have not found a job. in every possible way in life I am mediocre and not accepting that will never change anything. I need to be composed about the situation and deal with it with grace. ideally id get my ass up, make a happy sing pLAylist, do my bed clean my desk, do my hair, change, wash my teeth, make a big breakfast shake for myself and the kids, and acv water and coffee, call the uscis center while I work on my online selling, retake picture if I need to upload ads for my parents, go make breakfast for my parents, while listening to the 7 habits, workout then eat then continue with the online selling and try and get as many commissions as possible even open a go fund me and a patron. upload alot of content, start some new pieces and do my makeup and try filming me singing a cover again. then start researching galleries and making a big excel sheet of all of them and of their contact for submitting pieces. I'm going to a successful bithc. I just need that image tattooed in my minds eye. I'm going to be invited to all the bog fashion shows. I'm going to be flown to Paris by major companies. I'm going to be on the cover of magazines. my art will be held in high regards and will sell for a lot. I just need to produce a lot, huh. well I will, ill figure it out, I've been recently falling on the realization that my dreams have always been too ambitious and non realistic with my exoectations. and just as an example, look at my fucking lists every single day. I'm not even realistic enough to finish one fucking list. I wanted to loose weight by my birthday and I had 4 months to slowly do so and now I'm 3 weeks away and as depressed as ever. like what if my dreams are too big an unreachable and ill never amount to anything, that out kill me . it really would, I need to figure my motivation out ands stop being so hard on myself an just be happy knowing I tried my best. 

[weapon13whitefang]

Y’all I’m dying. I washed my hair today and I guess I got water in my ear and I had to do the whole hydrogen peroxide in the ear shit (which I fucking hate because it makes my ear itch like cray and the popping freaks me the fuck out) and then I couldn’t get enough sleep while dealing with this bullshit cough that came out of nowhere and now my lymph nodes are swollen behind both ears, I’m exhausted, my ears itch like crazy, and I’m coughing so hard my chest hurts... Agghhhhh!

#help meee #yucky