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sparks-is-here · 6 years

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Monsters (Darkiplier X Reader): Lab Coats and Heart Eyes (Part 7)

I head out to my car to drive to the doctor's office, the drive consisted of me listening to my music. I arrived to the office and get my papers filled out, I then wait to be called in. I looked around the waiting room area and noticed couples waiting around as well as some others, they were reading things and watching the TV's while they waited. I start to tap my fingers on my leg as I anxiously wait, I never liked hospitals, they always creeped me out in horror movies and games. The long hallways, the plain walls, the gurney beds sitting around, the too perfectly sterile smell of the place. Everything so perfectly white and light blue, it's too clean to be perfectly safe if you ask me. You could say I have definitely been influenced by horror stories of haunted hospitals. As I waited, others would be called back, I would continue to sit in the uncomfortably stiff waiting room chair. I take a breath, it gets shakier as I exhale out, I shift my legs and slowly fall more anxious as time passes by. Deeper into the dark hole of my brain with worried thoughts I go.

"Y/N? The Doctor is ready for you." A nice, yet older looking nurse looks out and around from behind a door leading to the patient room hallway. I stand up and the nurse directs her eyes toward mine, I step forward to follow the nurse towards my room. I stare at the french twist in the nurse practitioner's blonde hair in front of me, I notice it has several gray streaks tucked in as well. My focus passes her hair and stares straight upon a nicely squared off jawline, some scruff was laying upon the male's face, his smile bright and true looking. I followed the nurse into a room I was assigned, my head turning to gaze upon the gentleman who caught my attention. The last glimpse I had of him was a pristine white lab coat... I didn't even get to see the rest of his face, the only identification I had was scrubs and that smile. I stepped into the room after the nurse. She exclaimed that the doctor would come in after a few moments, enough time for me to change into the paper gown laying upon the paper covered bed. I heard hints of this as I stared off in the distance thinking. He's a doctor... A handsome one at that. He's probably married considering those things. My thoughts were shut off when I heard the door to my room shut, signalling me I should probably get changed. I sit upon the loud crinkly bed in my new gown, goose flesh starts to appear across my arms at the lack of my clothing. I sit and cross my ankles and swing them as I look around the room and wait. I stare among the box of latex gloves hung next to the door, the hand sanitizer, and the tiny desk in the corner of the room with a rolling stool for the doctor to sit on. It's so cramped in a room that should be more comfortable for patients, you'd think they would want people relaxed, right? A knock sounded at my door, "Come in" I squeak out. The door starts to creep open and none other than the man with the bright smile walks into the small room.

"Hello, Y/N L/N. Nice to meet you, I'm Dr. Iplier, I'll be taking care of you today." He smiled. That damn smile. He was more handsome than what I saw at first, brunette hair and his deep warm brown eyes... "Y/N? Are you okay?" he asked. "Y-yeah, I'm fine... uh.. this is one of the reasons why I came to see you... I keep spacing out, and have these terrible migraines, sometimes only lasting a couple of minutes, sometimes longer." Dr. Iplier writes what I say down. Setting his clipboard down after I finish explaining, he steps toward me taking his stethoscope off his neck to start the physical. "I'm gonna check your vitals now before we get further into how you're feeling okay?" He looks at me with eyes that look as though he's asking for... permission? "Okay Doc." I breath out. He puts the ends of the stethoscope in his ears and takes the other end to my back. "Woah!" I shout. "Cold? I should have known. Sorry about that." He smiles. "I-It's fine," I look down at my gown trying to hide my blush, he had set a hand on my bare back after checking if I was alright. Why does he have to be so hot? I feel like he just walked out of a steamy soap opera episode... "Let's try that again?" He looks at me, waiting for my response. "Sure," I say. The doctor held the end of the tool against the palm of his hand to warm the end up, he then pressed it upon my bare back once again, "Better this time?" "Yeah, a lot better," I smiled.

The doctor finished checking my vitals, he then sat down on the stool next to the tiny desk in the corner of the room, he grabbed his clipboard. "So what were you saying earlier about why you wanted to come in today?" "I've been struggling a lot with migraines lately, sometimes they last hours, and other times only a couple of minutes. I drink a lot of water on the daily, but yesterday I had passed out at the mall with my best friend, It's been happening more and more frequently. We have a feeling it's from me not eating enough, I've struggled with eating nothing or overeating for a while now. I also think I was sleep deprived, I think I may have insomnia, I get really bad and realistic feeling nightmares too. I've gone to psychiatrists before, and therapy doesn't help me as much as I think it should. The last time I went to therapy she diagnosed me with bipolar depression, anxiety, and insomnia, however anything she prescribed to me had worsening or no effects at all." I swing my legs from the edge of the bed, my fingers play with the ring on my finger as I wait for Dr. Iplier's response. "I see, so you think you need something stronger to help you sleep at night, and a more organized diet, and considering what she has given you doesn't help your eating issues and depression, I may have to prescribe something stronger to maybe help you maintain the impulsive behavior that is both under and overeating. As well as your on and off upset mood. Is that okay?" Dr. Iplier looks up at me from his clipboard, he waits patiently for my answer. Wow, most doctors would just prescribe something without asking if you were okay with a prescription, let along a stronger one. I guess because more and more people don't like medication, they have to make sure if you even want to swallow pills each day, especially if it's going to affect your body so differently too. "Yeah that's fine, I appreciate you asking..." I reply. "Alright, sounds like a plan to me," the doctor writes down what I believe is my prescription. I watch as he scribbles and notice he doesn't have any rings on. He's not married. My sight travels to the page he is writing on, his handwriting is surprisingly neat? How often does someone meet a Doctor like Dr. Iplier? He's a rarity indeed. "When will I start taking the new meds?" I blurt out, trying to pull my attention away from his attractiveness. "Considering this office sends everything over digitally to the pharmacy, so long as they have everything in stock at where you choose to pick them up, you can start as soon as today." Dr. Iplier smiles at me and hands me a paper before he says goodbye. "I will send it to your local pharmacy, call me if you experience any problems and want to talk about it." He winks. "I will, thank you Doctor..." I smile. He leaves the room and I'm left to get dressed again. Did I just get the number of an extremely hot doctor after flirting with him? FUCK YEAH I DID! I get changed and leave the room, I walk passed several other rooms and bend my head to look at the floor to hide my blush from my excitement. I suddenly run into someone and stumble downwards. Idiot! Watch where you're walking you klutz! "My apologies Miss, I vasn't vatching vhere I vas going!" A man with a thick German accent and a surgical mask gives me a hand. "No it was my fault! I'm sorry Doctor..?" I look at the handsome man's hospital I.D. badge as he helps me up. "Schneeplestein! But most people call me Schneep, it is much easier you know!" The man excitedly explains to me as he shakes my hand. "And your name my vonderful darling?" God, is every doctor in this place charming and cute? "Y/N, and thank you-" I blink surprised at his compliment. "Of course only the best for a very beautiful voman!" He smiles. "I must go Dr. Schneep, I'm sorry again for running into you!" I quickly walk away waving back towards the man. "Please! Don't be sorry vonderful Y/N!" he waves back. I then leave the hospital, I head to the pharmacy and think about the two Doctors I met, Dr. Iplier and Dr. Schneep were talking the whole time I checked out, they must be close friends besides just coworkers.

I pick up my prescription and get home, "Emma! I'm home!" I yell. No response. "She must be over at the douche canoes again." I sigh. Let's just say Emma is GREAT at choosing keepers. Aaron was the latest of the long list, and he is definitely better than the ones before, however I still don't like him at all. She is never really home anymore, she still pays rent, but she is over at his all the time, at this point I'd rather her move out and me get another housemate. I know if I had a boyfriend I would want to move in with him. As much as I don't like him or the others, and how much I make her aware of my feelings for them, I still support her, she is my best friend after all, I'm not going to ruin something if it makes her happy. As much as it angers me, I see her happy so I don't do anything to separate them. I still see her, just not nearly as much as I used to, so I find it would be more worth it for the both of our convenience for her to move in with him. At least she has heart eyes for a lesser prick, I can't complain too much anymore I guess.

#Darkiplier #dark #dark fanfic #dark fanfiction #darkiplier x reader #dark smut #darkiplier fanfic #darkiplier fanfiction #darkiplier smut #darkiplier x reader smut #romance #fanfiction

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samtheflamingomain · 7 years

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to care is human

Warning: gruesome descriptions of suicide methods.

So last night I tried to kill myself. Sometimes I wake up knowing it'll be that kind of day, sometimes it creeps up on me. This time was different.

I usually drink a shitload, eat a bunch of sleeping pills and then put a bag over my head and a belt around my neck. It's almost worked a few times, but I usually wake up with a hole in the bag and a terrible headache.

I can't really do that anymore; I can tell it's causing actual brain damage, and I also don't have more than a few sleeping pills at any given time because my psychiatrist instructed the pharmacy to give me my meds weekly.

I was alright until around 4 when I realized I'd be drinking and that it would make a solid week in a row of drinking. Add in the fact that I just put $1200 of cat surgery on my credit card, and by the time I was gulping down an entire bottle of wine in an hour, I couldn't stop thinking about all the things that stress me out. I have no money. I hate working. I have no parents. I can’t stop drinking. I have to start working more hours.

I didn't wait long enough after the wine before going to the bar. It was another few beers before it hit me HARD. It takes A LOT for me to feel drunk; I've gotten used to drinking 10 beers to feel tipsy, so I was surprised to be genuinely drunk. Wanting that to continue, I kept at ‘er.

This is a pretty odd story, and I don't remember everything that happened but here's a self-indulgently-long description of it anyway:

I go to the bar after the wine and have about 8 beers (they have a non-standard "mini-pitcher" you can buy, maybe the equivalent of like 3.5 beers?) and I'm talking to another regular who's been trying to get rid of her last kitten for a while. I've always loved this kitten and have considered taking him in for a while now.

So Fran says, "Hey, wanna come over and see him?" and drunk me was like "Fuck yeah, kitties!"

We take a cab to her place, I ogle some felines, then had to walk home. I'm guessing I left her place at around midnight. Why am I guessing? Wellll...

My phone was dead, as I discovered trying to figure out how to get home from her place. I had no idea where I was.

I live at the edge of a very large neighbourhood with a lot of winding, twisting roads. I walked for hours in the freezing cold, crying, stumbling over drunk. I remember laying in grass at some point(s?) and also concrete.

And I remember far too vividly crawling from the sidewalk out to the road and laying down.

I laid there for what felt like hours, screaming at approaching vehicles, "FUCKING KILL ME!" as I bawled my eyes out. None did. Obviously.

I remember distinctly being stood up by a paramedic and escorted into an ambulance. The first thing I said was, "Great, another $40 I can't afford."

I was barely able to give the paramedics answers. I don't remember getting out or how I ended up sleeping on a hospital bed in the mental illness waiting area.

I was woken up at 4 in the morning by a crisis worker. She said "sounds like you had a bad night?" No fuckin shit.

Well, I'm not new to this rodeo. I don't remember much of what was said, but she discharged me as soon as we were done. I have a horrible, infected scrape on my hand that is putting me out of commission at work for at least a week. I can hardly move my hand or lift anything. They tell me to go to a walk-in-clinic.

Buses don't start till 7 on weekends, so I went for my phone to call an Uber. And that’s when I discovered a shitty Android-shaped hole in my pocket.

That's right, for those of you keeping score at home, that's two, count 'em, TWO phones I've lost in the last 4 months! How will he lose the next one??? Vote NOW!!

Anyway, I call a cab from the hospital, get home at around 5, message my coworkers that I can't come in to work, then pass out till 10, the exact time I was supposed to start work. I fire up the ole' Book of Faces and find that the shift has been covered.

I go buy a new phone and (attempt) to go to a clinic for my hand. Literally every clinic in this city is closed because of the stupid long weekend. I was exhausted so I didn't bother going back to the hospital for a scrape.

Then something weird happened. I realized that people actually care. Let me explain.

I fucked up the schedule at work this week by having to take my cat to the vet on Tuesday. I felt HORRIBLE about missing another shift, especially two in one week, and especially because this time it was my own damn fault.

It gets worse. When I was told that the shift had been covered, I wasn't told that it was being covered by Rob, who closed last night (a 4-12 shift). Running on 3 hours of sleep, he came in at 10 and is still there now. He'll be there till 12 again.

So now I feel even more horrible. Dude is working 22 hours in 2 days because of me*.

*Not quite - I'll get to that in a bit.

Without a phone to call my best friend, I felt very lonely when I got home from the hospital. I was still able to talk to my other friend from the States, though, and this is an important difference.

When I try to kill myself and tell Connor after the fact, he rarely reacts. (If I'm on the phone threatening to do it he's much more involved and often talks me down). But with Danny instead, who was extremely worried, I finally felt like someone actually cared after the fact.

Everyone will care before because death is scary. Few people care after because living is boring.

Danny wasn't the only one. I didn't realize it at the time because I was still a little out of it but when I told my coworker I wouldn't be able to come in, I told her why. I didn't mean to.

She was so understanding about it, told me not to worry, that I could come in for free food if I wanted.

Then, as I began posting on Facebook about my lovely evening, another coworker messaged me - Rob, the one who is a working machine and could probably work 24/7 if necessary. He said he was on a break at Tim Horton's and I should join him.

Kind of worried at this point; I've bailed on 2 shifts in one week, he's got seniority and I singlehandedly* forced him to work a close-to-open-to-close. *Not really. Again, in a minute. Be patient.

To my surprise we just talked, about what happened, about work, about life. At the end of his break he says to come hang out at work.

The concept of "hanging out" coming together with the concept of "work" had never really made much sense to me because I hate working. But I realized that I hate working, not the work itself, not the place and not the people.

So I go to work and... hang out. I try helping when I can but quickly realize my hand is going to be a problem, probably for a very long time. I can't lift much with it and I have a very limited range of motion; it wasn't just due to the scrape, it was also because I'd used it to break a fall. It's not the worst thing, but it does affect nearly every aspect of making pizzas.

Anyway, I shoot the shit with Alycia and Rob and Lily and nobody's mad at me and the store's a mess but it doesn't matter. *And that's when I'm told that 4 people are out of town, and the other morning person wouldn't message back or pick up the phone all day.* It wasn't completely my fault, so I felt a little better.

Then a few things happened.

First, Anthony showed up for his shift at 4. I really like Anthony: he's a hard worker, nice, funny and a little awkward in the same way that I am. Unfortunately, he only works one night a week, and I've only worked with him twice. He talks with Rob as they count the till and I assume Rob's telling him the reason the dough still hasn't been finished at 4pm (me).

Well, he didn't. I take my glove and bandage off my hand to redo it and he goes "Damn, what happened?" I say, "From last night."

"What happened last night?"

I kind of stare at him for a minute. "Didn't Rob tell you?"

"No, what?"

"I tried to kill myself."

His face falls. I can tell he's starting to wear his awkward face. Many people react differently to this news based on relationship level and experience. When I told Danny, one of my closest friends, he was worried and upset. When I told Anthony, a work acquaintance I barely knew, he had a few moments of awkward "No, hey, that's no good, don't do that" before he suddenly opened his arms for a hug.

I'm a bad hugger. I usually just stand there as the other person does all the hugging. This is because my parents would only ever hug me when they were done yelling at me and had forced me to apologize for something I hadn’t done wrong.

I hugged him back, and I almost started crying. It was the first real hug I'd gotten probably in my entire life. By 'real' I mean for the hugger. He did the socially obligatory thing of pretending suicide isn't as serious as it is before he couldn't keep the charade up. That part of the reaction wasn't real. The hug was real.

Anyway. As Anthony arrives, Alycia leaves. As she's waiting by the door for her ride, she says lots of stuff people say to the suicidal, and also indicates that her boyfriend and herself have had their share of mental illness.

Then she tells me that her second cousin commited suicide. She says he did it because he thought no one would care. "It was sixteen years ago and the family has never been the same. People care. We would all care."

I'd heard it a thousand times before but never really believed it, either because it was being said by someone who probably wouldn't care after a week, or because it's said by someone who is socially obliged to at least pretend to care, so I assume they are just pretending.

But between Danny, a close friend but whom I've never met in person, and my coworkers, who, until now, I wouldn't have called friends at all, I feel like I've "realized" that people really do care.

Something I've never really felt before. Thanks, parents.

Anyway, long story, I know, but a happy-ish ending? Who knows. Still pretty fucking depressed but not suicidal. I don’t know if this will prevent me from trying again, but it might, and that’s better than nothing.

Stay Greater.

#suicide tw #mental illness #hospital #friends #sam

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goarticletec-blog · 6 years

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Antidepressant shortage alarms Saskatchewan patients with mental illnesses

New Post has been published on https://www.articletec.com/antidepressant-shortage-alarms-saskatchewan-patients-with-mental-illnesses/

Antidepressant shortage alarms Saskatchewan patients with mental illnesses

A countrywide shortage of a common antidepressant medication has caused alarm among doctors, pharmacists and patients with mental illnesses.

Nearly a dozen pharmacies in Saskatoon and Regina have told CBC News that they have run out of bupropion— both the brand-name product Wellbutrin and its generic counterparts — and can’t get more from their suppliers.

More than 12,000 patients in Saskatchewan take bupropion, according to the Ministry of Health. National figures are not readily available.

The prescription antidepressant is used to treat major depressive disorder and seasonal affective disorder.

“This might have been the drug that gave you the energy to live your life, do the things you needed to do, get on with your job, do your studies,” Dr. Sara Dungavell, a Saskatoon psychiatrist, said.

She said she fielded anxious phone calls from patients about the shortage.

Two pharmaceutical companies that produce generic bupropion are reporting a shortage or anticipated shortage on the Health Canada website.

The company that manufactures Wellbutrin, Bausch Health, reported its shortage to Health Canada six weeks ago. On Thursday, it told CBC News it had resolved its shortage and Canadian pharmacies would receive the drug “imminently,” depending on delivery schedules.

By Saturday afternoon, pharmacies in Calgary, Saskatoon, Regina and Winnipeg said they had yet to receive a shipment and their pharmacists said it was still listed as unavailable in their system.

A company spokesperson wouldn’t divulge why the shortage happened. Health Canada doesn’t require companies to report that information.

Shortages stressful for people with mental illness

Dungavell said, until the drug is on pharmacy shelves, she will continue to worry about her psychiatric patients.

“The problem is, there might not be another drug that works as well for you, because this one is the only one that works on dopamine and norepinephrine,” Dungavell said, adding that stopping the drug could “destabilize” her patients’ treatment plans.

Wellbutrin extended release tablets are commonly prescribed to treat major depressive disorder. (Bausch Health)

At Lumsden Drugs, north of Regina, pharmacist Yolandi Burnett confirmed that a shortage of bupropion is more dire than a shortage of many other drugs would be. For example, a blood pressure medication might have eight equivalent drugs.

Bupropion “is in a class all on its own. So if it’s not there, and it’s been working for you, then it’s extremely difficult for people with mental health issues,” Burnett said.

Pharmacists have faxed letters to doctors warning them of the shortage and, in response, some doctors have tried to wean their patients off the drug or experimented with other drugs.

Several people who take the drug have posted in online forums about “freaking out” or “panicking” as they watch their supply dwindle. Some express concerns their depression will return. One patient said she ordered the medication online from India.

Canada ‘needs to demand more transparency about what the problems are with the drug company,’ says Dr. Jacalyn Duffin, a professor emerita at Queen’s University. (Wieke Eefting)

Uncertainty over medication supply can be particularly difficult for people with depression and anxiety, according to Dr. Jacalyn Duffin, who teaches the history of medicine at Queen’s University in Kingston, Ont.

“You cannot believe [the company’s] resupply date because they constantly go in and update and extend the resupply date,” Duffin said. “There’s no transparency. None.”

She co-authored a report for the C.D. Howe Institute in June that revealed about 1,200 drugs are in short supply in Canada every year, with at least 700 shortages at any time. The most common reasons for shortages are manufacturing disruptions or shipment delays. A shortage of generic drugs can often trigger a shortage of brand-name drugs, and vice versa.

“At times, all pharmaceutical manufacturers are faced with drug shortage situations,” a spokesperson for Bausch Health said in an email to CBC News. “We understand this is challenging for patients and health-care practitioners to manage, and we’re glad the situation is being resolved.”

The company indicated it had begun shipments, but pharmacists in Saskatchewan said their online system still showed it as unavailable.

Duffin acknowledges that drug manufacturing is a private industry, not a charity, but argues that Health Canada should require companies to release more information about why shortages happen.

“We can’t find solutions until we find the cause,” Duffin said. “Canada needs to measure the drug shortage. It needs to demand more transparency about what the problems are with the drug company. … Instead of going around blaming [the drug companies], we should be trying to understand what their troubles are.”

With files from Jennifer Quesnel

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