#when i was taken to the hospital by 2 people in an ambulance in september

[crehelf]

ranting and venting in the tags feel free to ignore o7

#couldn't sleep bc i was already circling back in depression with the dropping out of college #bc they threaten to ask for the full tuition fees if u dont quit before the end of the month #and i did bc i dont even wanna continue but i was also denied the scholarship #so yeah bye bye #i was trying to distract myself to sleep and then i remembered something thats sitting soooo bitterly at the back of my throat #when i was taken to the hospital by 2 people in an ambulance in september #i felt too bad back then to process what occurred and even threw up shortly after #but i just remembered the guy groped me #either when checking smth or helping me get up i forgot that #but i remember looking at him #he looked at me then moved his hand away #again i puked shortly after that so i completely forgot #and i remembered now when im already feeling low and trying to sleep #my dad tried to comfort me to move on or said like some people have worse things going on #i interrupted him #told him that despite his good intentions he is not helping and you shouldn't repress your pain over others #luckily he agreed #but im so mad and disgusted over remembering that #and i need my uni to cancel my year i keep trying to find whats wrong with my health i dont wanna continue #okay im done 🤡 #i got some tea for now I'll read something to keep my brain busy

[wikifoxnews]

Who was Alison Russo Elling ( EMT stabbed to death in Queens as she was grabbing food ) Wiki, Bio, Age, Crime, Arrest, Incident Details, Investigations and More Facts

Alison Russo Elling Biography                                Alison Russo Elling Wiki

A EMT was stabbed to death by a maniac on a Queens street Thursday afternoon in an unprovoked attack that took place on the way to a meal, authorities said.

Lt. Alison Russo Elling, a 61-year-old department veteran who was a World Trade Center rescue worker on Sept. 11, 2001, was stabbed more than 20 times around 2:20 p.m. by an assailant between 20th Avenue and 41st Street, he said. In gruesome crime scene surveillance footage, Russo-Elling was thrown to the ground by a knife-wielding lunatic who repeatedly stabbed her as she lay helplessly on the concrete. He was on duty at the time and was about a half-block from Station 49 on the sidewalk when he was attacked, NYPD Chief Investigator James Essig said. Officials gave no details of what sparked the violence, but authorities said the attack was "unmotivated".

Investigations

"At this stage of the investigation, there appears to have been no prior contact between them," an FDNY source said. "He just approached her, accelerated, and then stabbed her." The 25-year-old veteran was taken to Mount Sinai Hospital in critical condition but could not be rescued, police said.

Suspect

The suspected criminal, 34, was arrested after being chased by a Good Samaritan and barricaded in his apartment next door, Essig said. On the third floor of the apartment, police managed to convince him and take him into custody, Essig said. A person who lived in the area near the Astoria-area crime scene said they felt "terrible" for the officer. "God, what's going on in this world, why is this such a quiet place," said Connie Syrigos. “It's all families here, honest people, hard working people, and that has never happened before. When I saw it, I was very surprised." Murdered EMT Alison Russo-Elling was a 24-year veteran, planned to retire in 6 months https://t.co/TVI4Nag2LY pic.twitter.com/MC7H3phgGJ — New York Post (@nypost) September 30, 2022 Acting FDNY Commissioner Laura Kavanagh called Russo's death "heartbreaking," adding that she was stabbed in a "barbaric and totally unprovoked attack." "We've lost one of our heroes," Mayor Eric Adams said at a news conference. The suspect, whose name has not been released, was arrested in the 114th arrondissement late Thursday afternoon. No charges were announced. Camilla Groth, 50, who lives in the same neighborhood as the crime scene, called the boy lonely and "weird" and said she first noticed him when she was about two years old. "Lonely... Kinda weird but totally non-violent," described Groth, her neighbor across the street. I didn't want to meet him or say hello or anything. "I've never seen him with another person. He was always alone when I saw him," he added. Violence against paramedics is not uncommon in the Big Apple. Five years ago, Yadira Arroyo was shot dead by her own ambulance after being robbed in the Bronx. The man accused of killing her, Jose Gonzalez, was found fit to stand trial earlier this month. His trial date is Jan. 3, 2023, CBS News reported Thursday. A 25-year-old paramedic from Richmond University Medical Center was fatally shot in an ambulance by a drunk man being transported to Staten Island in 2019. A 20-year-old paramedic was attacked on the spot that same year. Another brave paramedic was brutally attacked on duty last year by a crazed teenager who allegedly bit him in the face. The flag for Station 49, where Russo worked, was lowered to half-staff on Thursday night as first responders gathered outside the station to mourn the loss of their colleague. EMT Captain Mike Daddona told the Post outside the hospital Thursday that he and Russo grew up working together. He remembered Russo for his kindness. "Great sense of humor. He always greeted you with a smile," he said. "No matter what was going on, he had a smile on his face." In a joint statement, FDNY Firefighters Association President Andrew Ansbro and FDNY Firefighters Association President Lt. James McCarthy in a joint statement saying they stand in solidarity with "our brothers and sisters" at the ministry. "The death of Alison Russo is a tragic reminder of the dangers faced by all members of the FDNY and the uniformed services," they said. "His senseless murder hurts every member of the FDNY." Read the full article

#ALISONRUSSOELLING #crime #EMTS #FDNY #QUEENS #STABBINGS

[sickficsies-and-whumpsies]

hi, may i ask you sick semi eita fic? he went amusement park with his team despite feeling a little bit unwell. Later he feels dizzy & nauseous, his team then take him to doctor/dorm. thank you 🥰

Oui oui, mon amie!!

TW: dizziness & nausea, vomiting, hospitals, brief mentions of IVs.

1.4k words, Gen.

ー ー ー

“Oh, the queue for that one isn’t too long!! Let’s go, guys!!”

Semi sighs. While Tendou’s volume doesn’t usually bother him, right now, stuck in the middle of Yagiyama Benyland, surrounded by screaming people and running children, he wishes his friend could turn it down a notch already.

The fabric around his neck feels constricting, suffocating. Semi tugs at the collar of his shirt lightly, clearing his throat silently as he trails behind the rest of the team.

He massages his stomach under the grey hoodie, feeling it gurgle under his touch. It was only two days ago when the pinch-server’s stomach first sent a painful, sudden jolt of white-hot pain throughout his body, making him shudder and gag, taken aback. But since his appendix has long been removed, Semi’s confident that it’s probably just a matter of too much coffee and too little water in his guts. It’s been a stressful week, after all. Nothing he can’t fix. It still hurts, though.

“Are you sure we’re tall enough for that ride?” Goshiki jokes, and everyone laughs, Tendou wrapping a lanky arm around the first-year and ruffling his head with the other hand. More laughter echoes among the group.

Semi shudders, chills running down his spine, stomach twisting. He struggles to even only force out a tiny smile.

ー

The safety belts press against his stomach and shoulders uncomfortably, and Semi doesn’t think he will make it. Next to him, Ushijima sits quietly, waiting for the ride to start. He briefly glances over, humming.

“Are you scared, Semi?”

There’s no malice in his voice, no curiosity either. It’s something along the lines of… Concern? Annoyance? Both?

“M’fine.” Semi gulps, “Just excited.”

“It’s okay to be scared.”

“M’not.”

“Alright. But if you were, it’d be okay.”

“Ushijiー!!” he gets cut off, abruptly, as the thing finally starts to move.

The higher it goes, the more Semi knows he’s not going to make it. There’s no doubt about it. He quickly tries to recall if there’s some sort of trashcan near the exit but he realises that he hasn’t seen any. 

His complexion bleaches rapidly. The thing is, Semi isn’t scared of roller coasters, he quite enjoys them, to be fair. Right now, the thing he fears the most is puking all over himself or worse, over the team’s captain.

And he knows it’s going to happen.

The people in the front row start screaming, Semi only a few rows back. It’s only a matter of seconds before he feels himself falling, and the world tunes out.

ー

He doesn’t actually pass out, really. Instead, once the operators remove his safety belts and wish him and his friends a fun day, he lets his shaky legs guide him down the metal staircase, eyes glazed over, blind. He’s not quite sure he’s moving, either. And he looks green.

Semi doesn’t even register that Ushijima’s strong hand is wrapped around his right upper arm, the left in the care of Tendou himself, eerily quiet. They set him down on the first empty bench they find, the team quiet behind the three.

It’s Reon to crouch in front of the ill teen, a firm hand squeezing his knee encouragingly. “Semi? Dude, hey.”

“...up…” he murmurs, seemingly catatonic, staring somewhere behind the team that has gathered in front of him, eyes filled to the brim with apprehension.

The setter swallows, a thin trail of saliva making its way down the corner of his chapped lips and down his twitching chin. He opens his mouth to speak, to say something, but nothing comes out, and soon enough he ducks his head between his knees and retches onto the pavement without a second warning. 

His teammates gasp, horrified and worried, but Reon is quick to avoid the onslaught and immediately usher the others away, leaving Tendou and Ushijima behind. The taller guy rubs at his back firmly, while the other puts a palm flat on Semi’s forehead, preventing him from giving himself a whiplash. 

His skin feels cold and clammy, ashen. Tendou hisses. 

Not long passes before Semi throws up again, more and more bile splashing between his feet, little droplets staining his shoes and jeans. He retches and gags, helpless, eyes stinging painfully, about to pop out of his skull.

Reon jogs back a minute later, stopping a couple of meters away to give Semi some breathing room. “Should we call an ambulance? He looks like death warmed over...”

Ushijima shakes his head. “We should try and make him drink something, first.”

“I don’t think he’s up to it, Toshi.” Tendou reasons, “Semi-Semi, hey, you need to take a breath, my man.” he adds, patting the boy’s shoulder while Ushijima keeps massaging circles on his back.

But Semi doesn’t. He can’t. His stomach twists and knots painfully, and he doubles over, arms wrapped protectively around his abdomen as he hiccup and dry-heaves weakly. 

“Does your stomach hurt?” Reon asks, careful, calm as ever, “Do you need an ambulance?”

“Yeah, we should call ‘em.” Tendou says, “It’s not normal to feel this sick after riding a roller coaster as bland as that one, andー”

“He was feeling ill before the ride, too. I didn’t think it was this bad, though. I apologize, Semi.” Ushijima interjects. “I think the ride was simply the last straw.”

The three stay quiet for a moment, Semi’s desperate struggles and pants and hiccups drowning out every other noise. And finally, blissfully, about ten minutes after sitting down, his jagged breaths come to a halt, and he slumps to the side, crashing into Tendou.

“Semi-Semi...? Oh shit. Is he dead? Semi-Semi?” Tendou gasps, “Guys, a little help?”

The ill teen is quick to blink his eyes open, glassy and dull, spent. “H’rts.”

“What hurts?” 

“S-stomach. Head.” 

Reon nods, serious. He then takes his phone out and quickly types something, before glancing at Ushijima and Tendou, who are both massaging Semi’s trembling back, subconsciously. 

“Okay, the closest bus stop is about five minutes away on foot from here, and then it takes about ten minutes to get to Sendai Red Cross Hospital by bus, and another minute on foot after that. What do you guys say?” Reon asks.

Tendou is fast to nod, “Let’s go, we might catch the first bus available if we hurry.”

“I’ll carry him.” Ushijima adds.

Semi then struggles, shaking his headー aggravating his nausea and gagging silently. “Th-the others, and y-you, th-the pa-park and- and the tickets andー”

“Woh, woh, slow down, Semi-Semi!! It’s fine, we’ve been here for hours already anyway, and the entrance fees aren’t that expensive. No worries, okay? Let us worry about the rest.” Tendou says, cheerful, “We’ll text the others to let them know we’re leaving. We can always reschedule for another time, alright?”

“Done.” Reon smiles, waving his phone, ‘Shiratorizawa Volleyball Club’ chat open and rapidly flooding with texts from everyone. “Let’s go.” 

ー

Luckily, and unsurprisingly, the bus is perfectly on time, and Semi doesn’t even have the time to register that he’s an eighteen year-old being offered a piggy-back ride from another eighteen year-old. He couldn’t care less. Instead, once he’s on the bus, he drifts, drained.

ー

“Anyone here for Semi Eita?”

Tendou, Reon and Ushijima are quick to reach the doctor, wide-eyed. “How is he!?”

She smiles, “Your friend will be okay, nothing to worry about. He was terribly dehydrated and overall exhausted, courtesy of the raging viral gastroenteritis he has. The nurses gave him an IV to pump some fluids into his system, and once it’s done, I’m going to prescribe him some probiotics to help with the infection and he’ll be free to leave.”

“Can we see him?” Tendou frets, “Is there anything else we should do? Are you sure he’s okay?”

The doctor nods, her expression firm and reassuring. “Viral infections are extremely common, we treat thousands of similar cases each day. I promise you, Semi-san will be okay. And yes, you may see him, of course. Come with me, please.” 

The three follow the kind doctor quietly as she leads them to Semi’s bed, in the ER, the thin curtains between his and other patients’ beds being his only source of privacy. 

Upon seeing them, Semi sits up, grinning sheepishly, cheeks tinted in red. “Hey there.” he grins.

His friends chuckle, rapidly making their way toward his bed, ruffling his hair and pushing him around with calculated motions.

He’ll be fine. 

ー ー ー

I got carried away and started researching how to get to the closest hospital from Yagiyama Benyland, a real amusement park in Miyagi. And yeah, the Red Cross Hospital’s real, too, and the bus as well. I had so much fun researching this stuff. So yeah, I hope you liked it, let me know!!

Also, anon, if you have an AO3 tell me so that I can gift this fic to you when I post it there in a few days.

September 2, 2021

#pardon the french- literally. just wanted to say oui oui mon amie #my fic #haikyuu!! sickfic #sickfic #haikyuu!! #haikyuu sickfic #semi eita #tendou satori #ushijima wakatoshi #oohira reon #dizziness & nausea #vomiting #brief mentions of IVs #hospitals #shiratorizawa

[cilldaracailin]

Love of my Life

Hello my Tumblr lovely’s

Wow! Thank you so much for all the love and comments and support on the first part of this story. Just so lovely to see and read and so appreciated. (Especially as my motivation is on holidays at the moment for the next one but we won’t talk about that yet. I will get there. Also I need to knit some baby’s cardigans for my friend who is due a baby in November and they need to be done by September 25th as we have an afternoon tea planned.. so I need to get working on them and maybe I will be in a story place then...)

Anywhoo, here is the next part to this story. Mentions of hospitals, injuries, some anxiety and all the things you normally find with my stories as always.

Hope you all enjoy :)

Suze xx

P.S I don’t know Taron and it’s all just a story.

2 

“Never lose hope. Storms make people stronger and never last forever.”

With the paramedic’s gone, Robyn held tight onto her ticket and walked through the waiting area to find a seat to sit on, trying to get one near the back and once settled, made sure Beth was comfortable on her lap, cuddled right into her chest, feeling a chill to her skin as she wrapped her arms around her. Robyn moved so she could take off her blazer and laid it carefully over Beth’s upper body, settling her again. She then picked up her phone and called Emma, who told her Margaret had been in contact with her, telling her there was a massive tail back and she was going to be delayed getting to the hospital.

“That would be the reason why me and Beth are sitting in A&E. There is a huge pile up on the road she will have to take to get here from Wicklow.”

“She said she is going to try and take the back roads.”

“Well it looks like we have a bit of a wait here.”

“And Beth?”

“Ok for the moment.” Robyn looked down to her as she cosied up against her, the octopus still in her hand. “We will just have to wait.”

“Keep in contact with me and maybe you keep in contact with him? Try him again.”

With a roll of her eyes, Robyn ended the call and closed her eyes. Glad that Beth for the moment wasn’t in any pain, it gave her some time to collect her thoughts. She was definitely rattled no doubt about it and naturally with how the circumstances of Beth’s accident were so similar to Taron’s, it was hard not to let her thoughts drift. Taking out her phone again, she dialled Penny’s number, the therapist giving it to her after their first session but it went straight to her voice mail. Robyn hung up without leaving a message and sighed. It was typical. When she tried to look for help and openly looked for it, it couldn’t be found. The two people she wanted to talk to were busy and as Robyn pocketed her phone, squishing it beside her keys, hugged Beth a little tighter to her.

“My mammy?” She heard her say quietly.

“She is on the way darling. Might be a little late as there is a lot of traffic but I am not going anywhere.”

Four hours later still sitting on the horribly hard seats in A&E, Robyn was still waiting for their number to be called, Beth now asleep on her lap. She still hadn’t heard from Taron and she sat and silently fought her emotions. Using breathing tactic’s Penny had shown her, how to turn her anxiety into positive thinking, Robyn concentrated on her wonderful memories from last weekend, a smile on her lips as she focused on how happy Taron had been, how much fun they had on the beach and at Mari’s party and was concentrating so hard on not falling apart, that she missed her number being called and the person sitting beside her nudged her.

“It’s your turn.” The kind elderly woman said to her.

“Oh thanks.” Getting to her feet, Robyn had her purse in her hand, Beth in her arms and made her way towards the nurse who had called number sixty-eight. The little girl stirred in her arms but Robyn gently spoke to her, explaining the doctor was going to see her now. Her mother was still stuck in the traffic, calling Robyn herself but Margaret was so thankful to hear her daughter was ok, even more that Emma had offered to take David, Beth’s little brother for the evening so Margaret could get to the hospital and not miss his pick-up. Walking towards the nurse, Robyn was so glad to be finally getting somewhere. Although Beth was asleep, she had been mumbling and moving and Robyn was sure the pain killers were wearing off.

“Number sixty-eight?” The nurse asked shortly.

“Yep that’s us.”

“Ticket?”

Robyn looked to the nurse her eyes wide. “Ticket?”

“Yes I need to see your ticket.”

With her hands full, Robyn had no idea where she had put the ticket. “I am sorry, I don’t know where it is.”

“No ticket?” The nurse said placing her hands on her hips. “We have policy here.”

“I am sure you do but this little girl was rushed in by ambulance and we have been waiting our turn.”

“I need your ticket.” The nurse said firmly.

That positivity Robyn was trying hard to hold onto was very quickly slipping away and now with a missing ticket and no idea what to do next, thinking her only option was to speak to the receptionist behind the glass.

“Dear…” Robyn turned around when she heard a soft voice behind her, the elderly woman who had been sitting beside her slowly came walking towards her. “Your ticket was on your chair.”

Robyn thanked the lady and changing Beth’s weight onto one arm, took the ticket and handed it to the nurse. “My ticket.” She said, so tired already of the attitude of the nurse, who snapped it from her hand, Robyn holding Beth with two arms again.

“Robyn…”

“Yeah chicken. I am right here.”

“My arm hurts again.”

“I know darling. We are just ready to go and see the doctor.” Robyn took some steps towards the nurse who had yet to move. “Ticket’s ok?”

“Are you her mother?”

“Sorry?”

“Are you her mother?” The nurse asked again.

“Well no. I am not her mother.”

“And her mother or father are where?”

“Her mother is stuck in the traffic on the way here.”

“Her father?”

“Not here.” Robyn answered curtly.

“I am sorry but you cannot come in with her.” The nurse said reaching forward to take Beth, but Robyn stepped back. “You are not a blood relative, you cannot come with her.”

“Seriously?”

“We have hospital policy to follow.”

“I am the only one who is here with her.”

“And you are?”

“I work in the creche she attends.”

“So not her mother.”

Robyn gripped Beth tighter to her, feeling her cuddle into her. “As I already explained to you, no I am not her mother. She was in accident in creche this morning and I came with her in the ambulance because like I said, her mother was working and is now stuck in traffic trying to get here.”

“Only family can go with her. You can’t go. Give her to me.” The nurse moved and actually tried to take Beth, but Robyn turned around, protecting the little girl with everything she had. “Oh come on now. This is just being childish.”

Robyn looked over her shoulder, feeling already on edge with angered emotions ready to burst. “I can’t go but you want to take the four-year-old from the only person she knows in this hospital and leave her with a stranger and sit in strange room with a doctor examining her when she is already terrified. I don’t think so. I would rather pull another ticket and wait thanks very much.” She turned on her heels and walked away. “You may as well call the next ticket. She goes nowhere without me.”

“Lucy, where is my next patient?” A young male doctor walked through the double doors behind the nurse. “I have been waiting a while and we have a busy A&E to catch up on now we are finally through the patients from the accident.”

“I am just working on it Doctor Flanagan.” The nurse called Lucy turned back towards the waiting room. “So ticket sixty-nine.”

The doctor walked forward and stood next to the nurse. “Sixty-eight not here?”

On hearing her ticket number, Robyn turned on her heels and took in the deep brown eyes of the doctor. “Oh I am ticket sixty-eight but apparently because I am not related to the little girl in my arms, I am not allowed come in with her so I am just waiting until the policy changes because I am sure you can understand, I am not leaving her alone.” Her voice was dripping with sarcasm and her obvious anger and she turned away, making her way back to where she had been sitting.

“Hey wait.” The doctor followed Robyn and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Little girl? Hardly the one who Gavin brought in by ambulance earlier?” He saw the slightest nod of her head. “I am so sorry about the wait. That accident just monopolised our time. I was supposed to see you when you arrived. Please come through now with me. I am Doctor Flanagan. George Flanagan. Lucy, the next ticket can be taken by Doctor Rhodes. I will look after this one. Please follow me.”

Without any words, Robyn took the same path as the doctor and blanked the nurse, continuing on through the open doors which were held for her. Finally out of the waiting area, Robyn followed the doctor down the corridor, that hospital smell hitting her nose, once again her mind drifting back to Florida as she sat in the hospital for those few minutes with Taron. It was as if her feet were on auto pilot and she nodded her thanks to the doctor as he held open the door of one of the examination rooms for her, closing it behind her.

“I am sorry again for the wait. Unfortunately, we never know what could come our way and that accident has just really set us back.” The doctor gestured to the bed for Robyn to sit and took his own chair. “So we have one brave little girl here.”

Robyn explained what had happened that morning, how Beth’s mother was stuck in traffic from the accident earlier and Doctor Flanagan had been much more understanding of Robyn’s situation with Beth and didn’t even try to move her from Robyn’s lap, but rather spoke to her, asking her normal questions about creche and her friends and while he was doing so, was doing a visual check over of her. Happy with what he had seen so far and now that Beth was talking to him, he knew he could ask Robyn to get her to lay down on the bed.

“Beth I just want to check your arm.”

Robyn made sure to sit at Beth’s legs giving the doctor the space he needed to work, again memories of sitting alongside Taron as her doctor’s in Kilcreen filling her. Trying to keep a picture of Taron’s gorgeous smile in her face, she listened to the Doctor as she spoke so softly to Beth.

“Well I think you are one very lucky girl.”

“I am like Taron!” Beth grinned.

The doctor looked to Robyn and waited a few seconds for an explanation as to who Taron was. “He is a friend of mine. Got in a bad accident last year. I happened to be there and helped him. Beth is a fan.” She gave the little girls knee a squeeze.

“Taron named the octopus wyth. He is Welsh.” She held up the Octopus who had been turned around to the happy face once she was settled on the bed.

Robyn would have rolled her eyes except the way Beth gushed over Taron was absolutely adorable and to be honest, she happily gushed over him many a time too.

“Well I can see that.” The doctor grinned. “That’s a very cute octopus and you are definitely a very brave little girl.” He turned to Robyn. “I am going to give her some more pain killers but that arm is going to need to be x-rayed. You can go with her to the x-ray but won’t actually be able to go in with her. I will get one of the nurses to bring her in.”

“Once it isn’t Lucy.” Robyn said, an edge to her voice.

“I will get one of the paediatric nurses to come. She can walk down with you.”

“Thank you.”

“You can wait outside for her. Then the nurse will bring you to the family room to wait with Beth. I am afraid there is a bit of a backlog on x-rays too.”

“No that’s ok. Once she isn’t in any pain and hopefully her mother should be here soon.” Robyn looked at her watch. Now just after half-four, Robyn really hoped Margaret was close to the hospital. Although she wasn’t going to leave the little girl alone, she was tired and really wanted to try and call Taron again.

“Well when she does arrive, she can come straight through.”

After the doctor had managed Beth’s pain, he called the paediatric unit, asking for one of their nurses to come down to him and then turned to Robyn, seeing the young woman in front of him holding herself straight, almost too straight, an obvious fatigue on her soft features, deep circles under her eyes. “You’ve had a tough day.”

Robyn nodded. “I am really getting used to it to be honest but once she is ok that is all that matters to me.”

“She will be. You need anything? Have a headache?” The doctor asked kindly.

“Nah I am good. Just tired.” She saw the look on the doctor’s face. “A small one. It has been a very busy week at work. I have been doing the job of three staff members. We are bit short staffed and this morning was hard for me. Too close to home.” She offered no more information, seeing an understanding in the doctor’s eyes.

“Mind if I take a look?” He asked coming a little closer to her. “You look a little pale.”

“Not at all.”

Robyn sat still, letting the doctor give her a quick examine, her hand on Beth’s leg the whole time, keeping contact and support there for her. She followed the instructions of the doctor as he completed a few tests on her, checking her pulse, shining a light in her eyes, checking her heart beat and even slipping her arm into a blood pressure cuff.

“Your blood pressure is quite low but your heart is racing.” The doctor said as he listened to her chest again. “And you said you were tired?” He reached out to take her right hand in his free left one. “Cold hands too.”

“My hands are always cold.” Robyn answered. “And it has been a very emotional day and a Friday after an extra-long week of work. I am normally tired by the end of the week.”

“You feeling more tired than usual though? Finding things you normally get through easily, difficult? Or just that you tire more easily when before you still had lots of energy?”

Robyn slowly nodded. “Well I guess. I mean I went to visit Taron last weekend and had a swim in the sea and normally I wouldn’t get tired after a few strokes but did struggle a bit.”

The doctor nodded. “Keep an eye on this Robyn.” He said as he wrapped his stethoscope around his neck. “I know working a full week naturally will leave any person tired but extra tiredness over simple tasks is always the start of an illness. If it keeps up, go to your local GP. Get some blood tests done. You seem like a person we need to keep around.”

Robyn gave a small smile and half nod.

“Want me to give you something for the headache?”

Robyn shook her head. “Nah, I will be ok. I know it is probably because I haven’t had anything to eat since breakfast too. I will be fine.”

The doctor was about to reply to her, but Robyn turned her head as the examination door opened, a pretty little nurse walking in with a pixie cut and large brown eyes, interrupting them.

“Hey George. Heard you need an escort to x-ray.”

“Sure do Livy.” The doctor turned to Beth who was holding the octopus to her, the plush now turned back to the sad frown. “This is Beth and Robyn.” He gestured to both in the room with him. “And Beth is the bravest little four-year-old I know.”

Livy walked over to the bed and gave Beth a smile. “I like your octopus.”

“His name is wyth. He is Welsh.”

Livy grinned. “What a great name. So I hear me and you and Robyn get to go to x-ray together.”

“Robyn is coming.”

“Of course she is.” Livy answered immediately.

“And wyth.”

“Definitely. We can’t leave him behind.” She moved into the spot the doctor had left to stand beside the little girl. “So you going to walk with me?” Beth hesitated, the nurse picking up on her reluctance and crouched down a little so she could look at the little girl in her eye. “And do you know that after an x-ray you not only get a sticker but I am sure we could find some ice cream too.”

Beth’s whole face lit up at the words ice cream. “And some for Robyn too?”

“Sure why not.”

“Ok.”

With some help, Beth got up from the bed and once on her feet, reached out for Robyn’s hand and holding it tight, walked with the nurse towards x-ray. Robyn thought it was going to take a lot of coaxing to get her into x-ray but she took a quick liking to the nurse, chatting away with her the whole walk down the hallway and in the lift and she even handed the octopus over to Robyn so she wouldn’t be alone as she waited for them.

“We will be really quick.” The nurse said to Robyn as she held Beth’s hand. “In and out and then I will bring you to the family waiting room.”

Robyn paced the floor outside the x-ray, ignoring the looks of people who were waiting their turn, some of them frowning her way as Beth was taken in before them, keeping her eyes on the floor, the octopus tight in her hands. She jumped when her phone rang and she dropped the octopus, pulling her phone from her pocket, her heart sinking when she saw it was Emma calling her, and not Taron.

“Robyn. Hey.”

“Hi Emma.” Robyn said as she picked up the plush from the ground.

“I have just been off the phone with Margaret. She should be with you in the next twenty minutes. Finally got around the traffic.”

“That’s great. Thanks Emma. Beth has just been brought into x-ray. The doctor gave her the all clear apart from her arm.”

“Brilliant. I also had that chat with Jade and Lisa and I have made them remove the shelf from the room. Believe me, next time you ask them to do something, it will be done.”

“Thanks Emma.” It was a relief for Robyn to know she wouldn’t have to re-visit that talk with the staff, knowing she really would blow a fuse if she had to do it.

“So you hear from Taron?” Emma asked casually.

“Yeah. He sent me a quick text but nothing else yet. He will call me back when me back when he can. I also gave Penny a call too but she was busy. I will try her again this evening.”

“I am so proud of you Robyn. Really trying to let others in.”

Robyn kept walking up and down as she spoke to Emma. “Doing my best. Emma I am going to go. Just in case Margaret calls me.”

“Yeah sure. She knows I am taking David home with me this evening so she doesn’t need to worry about rushing back to Kilcreen.”

“Well hopefully once we get these x-rays back we will know what the story is with Beth and can go from there. Probably another bit of a wait though.”

“Just keep in contact with me.”

“Will do.”

Robyn was sure she was wearing a hole in the floor but for her it was better than sitting again in another hard chair and she turned when she heard her name called, seeing Margaret running her way, her face flushed with worry. She was greeted with a hug, Robyn taken back at the gesture but hugged Beth’s mother back.

“Thank you so much.” Margaret said into her shoulder. “I swear Robyn, you are an angel.”

Robyn chuckled. “Now I wouldn’t say that.” She let Margaret go. “Beth is fine. Few bumps and bruises, maybe a broken arm but the doctor checked her over and she is fine. No concussion or any other serious injuries.”

“I cannot thank you enough.”

“You don’t have to. It’s my job.”

Margaret placed both her hands on Robyn’s shoulders. “You do more than your job Robyn. You love and care for each of those children as if they are you own. My daughter idolises you and at his rate I wouldn’t trust anyone else with her.”

“Mammy!”

Robyn and Margaret turned as Beth walked out of the x-ray room, the little girl taking to run straight into her mother’s arms. Robyn stepped back to let them have their moment, coming to stand beside the nurse as she motioned to her.

“It will take an hour or so before we get those x-rays back. You are all more than welcome to go and wait in the family room. It is just down to the left and when the results come through I will come and find you. I am guessing that is her mother.” Robyn nodded. “Brilliant. Doctor Flanagan asked me to let him know when she arrived too. If you want to head on down Robyn, I will take Beth and her mam to the doctor and then bring them back.”

“Sure.”

After explaining where she was going and where she would be waiting, Robyn watched Margaret and Beth follow the nurse back to the doctor’s office while she made her way towards the family waiting room. Dropping herself into the chair, so glad to see it had a bit more softness to it, Robyn let her whole-body sink into the seat, her eyes closing. She had put her phone, keys, purse and the octopus on the seat beside her and now finally having her hands empty was able to run her hands down her face, feeling some of the tension leaving her but that was only replaced by those building emotions she had been feeling since earlier that morning.

“He is ok. He is ok.” She muttered to herself, her hands now in her hair. “Just a coincidence and Beth is fine. Taron is fine.” She reached out to grab her phone and called him, her hand shaking a little as she held the phone against her ear. Hearing his voice mail just wasn’t enough for her and she cancelled the call, not bothering to leave a message this time. She just had to be patient and wait for him to call her. She tried Penny again and with a frustrated sigh, dropped her phone down onto the seat. She was told she needed to open herself up, to talk, to be willing to talk but why did it seem the universe was giving her a sign that was a stupid thing to do.

“Robyn!”

She looked up to see Beth running towards her, her mother on her heels. “Well hello you.”

“Doctor George gave me a sticker and I got one for you and wyth too. Mammy didn’t want one.”

“Well thank you. That is so kind of you.” She forced a smile on her face as Beth put the sticker onto her blouse.

“Doctor George said I was the bravest little princess he had ever met.” She beamed, picking up the octopus and giving it a sticker too.

“Well I already knew that chicken.”

Beth with some help from her mother sat on the seat beside Robyn. “We have to wait for my x-rays.”

Robyn nodded. “Of course.”

“Robyn you don’t have to stay.” Margaret reached over to place a hand on her shoulder. “Thank you so much for all you have done but why don’t you head home. It has been a long day for you and not an easy one I am sure.”

Robyn shook her head no. “If you don’t mind, I think I would like to stay, just to make sure everything is ok with her.”

“Robyn really…”

“I am happy to stay. I need to stay.”

While it was so obvious having her mother around really soothed Beth, knowing Robyn was staying too made the little girl happy, and she played with the octopus who now had his happy face back, while they waited for the nurse to come back with her x-rays.

Just after six, Robyn’s phone rang and picking it up, her whole heart lifting as she saw Taron’s name in the screen. She excused herself and left the waiting room, answering the phone once she was out in the corridor.

“Robyn!”

“Hey Taron.”

“Sweetheart I am sorry I literally have a minute but wanted to return your call.” It wasn’t the response she had been hoping for or needed but she could hear the apologetic tone in his voice and just hearing his deep tones, was a start. “Robyn, you there?”

“Yeah I am here.”

“So you’ve had a shit day yeah?”

“Yeah something like that.”

“Robyn I am so sorry I don’t have time to chat but…”

She interrupted him quickly. “Look, I know you are working this weekend and it is night shoots and such short notice and it is ok if this isn’t ok but I was wondering if I could come and see you and come today, well later on today.”

“Robyn…”

“I know it’s awkward because you are working.”

“Robyn…”

“I would like to come up this evening and again it is such short notice but I really would just like to…”

“Robyn!” Taron’s voice was a little louder, but enough for her to stop speaking. “You know you are welcome to see me whenever you want. I will text you the address of the set. Come straight over Robyn.”

His next words were goodbye and see you soon and Robyn ended the call feeling no better but knowing he was happy for her to go and see him, that meant a lot to her at the moment. Leaning against the wall, Robyn felt overly warm suddenly, her previous headache increasing to a pounding now.

“Robyn?” She looked up to see Livy standing beside her. “You ok? You have gone terribly pale.”

“Yeah I am fine thanks. Just been a difficult day.”

Livy gave her a nod. “I can understand that but has had a very positive outcome. Beth’s arm only has a small little break. We will pop it in a cast and it should heal as good as new in six weeks or so.”

“I am so glad to hear that.”

“Come on in with me and we can share the good news with the family.”

Once Livy had explained the results of the x-ray, how Beth’s arm would be fixed into a cast, Robyn decided now it was time for her to go. Happy Beth was going to be fine and seemed to be delighted with getting her cast, Robyn said her goodbyes, accepting many hugs before she left. Collecting her belongings, she made her way out of the hospital, looking for her car but only remembering the row, she ended up walking around the whole carpark until she found it.

“Fucking hell.” She cursed as she unlocked the car and got in, dropping everything onto her passenger seat, including her octopus which thankfully she managed to talk Beth into giving back to her. It was something she was not willing to part with, the octopus turned back to his frown, Robyn herself switching it back as she searched for her car. Now near seven, her mind was set on one thing.

To get to Taron.

Getting google maps going on her phone, she popped in the address Taron had texted her and with a journey of nearly two hours ahead of her, Robyn headed out of the hospital and straight onto the motorway that would take her to Belfast. She battled with the idea of going back to Kilcreen first but that would have added an extra hour each way onto her journey and that didn’t include packing a bag so made the choice to just head to Belfast as she was, hoping Taron didn’t mind sharing his things with her.

As she drove, the long boring drive down the motorway gave her mind plenty of time to start over thinking and over think she did and was finding it so hard to pull the positive thoughts through that she had to pull in, picking a busy service station at Banbridge before she got herself into an accident.

The late night cold fresh air did nothing to help her over heated body as she stood outside the car and Robyn took her hands away from the roof of the car, her mind still thinking through her horrible morning, now running her hands through her loose hair, looking down to her blouse which was blood stained from Beth, the sticker still stuck onto the silk material. Cursing to herself, she had nothing to change into and needed to use the bathroom before she kept on her journey towards Taron. Climbing back into the car, she dragged her blue blazer back out to put on, closing the buttons, while fixing the white shirt to try and hide as much of the red spots as she could. She then stretched back in to get her phone, making sure to grab her purse and keys from the car before she managed to lock them in the car. Scrubbing at her eyes, they were tired and sore and her head was splitting from the stress of the day. While she was with Beth, she was distracted and busy but now it was just her and so easy to get caught inside her head. Her headache which had begun as she paced in the hospital was still there and it had only gotten worse as she sat stuck in traffic, cursing the Friday evening bumper to bumper line up she was driving in and with nothing to drink or eat, she felt a little light headed, routing through her glove box for a secret stash of chocolate bar or packet of jellies. Coming up empty, she had to make do with putting two chewing gum into her mouth, hoping the tiny dose of sugar would perk her up.

It wasn’t meant to be though and standing up, she had to grab the open door tight as she felt her head spin, a horrible spell of dizziness hit her, black spots appearing before her eyes and she lost her balance for a moment, leaning against the car door, the silver door swinging open fully. It took a few seconds before she felt she could try to stand up straight, still holding onto the car door with shaking hands. Once the black spots were gone, she took her time, breathing in the fresh air around her. Looking down she realised she dropped her belongings, not even remembering hearing them fall on the ground and carefully bent down to pick them up, worried another dizzy spell was going to hit her but as she stood up straight, the only thing that still hurt was the headache that had settled at the back of her head. Groaning, she closed the car door, locking it and making sure to check the car park, before she moved, headed towards the garage, her mind still thinking through the day.

She walked slowly across the petrol station’s car park, looking up the sky and sighed. It was drizzling with rain not that it bothered her but she was getting slightly wet and as fast as she could, made her way from the car towards the shelter of the shop. She had parked in the furthest spot away from the station, needing the space around her, feeling slightly caged in after being stuck in her car as she drove down the motorway, her mind whirling. She fumbled with her phone and keys, dropping her keys again, the noise jangling loud on the ground. She bent down to pick them up, the thumb of her left hand swiping the screen of her phone as she stood up, her screen saver a picture of her and Taron at his premier staring back at her. Locking her phone, so she didn’t see the picture any more and Robyn wrapped her arms around herself, heading into the petrol station, going straight for the bathroom.

The walk through the petrol station seemed to take forever and it was no wonder as the bathrooms were at the very end of the large service station. Finally seeing the female sign on the black door, Robyn pushed it open with two hands and locked herself into the last cubicle. Putting the toilet seat down, she took a seat and placed her head into her hands, taking some deep breathes. She thought back to her short phone call with Taron and knew he was worried at her message and so apologetic that his return call took so long, even more so that it was going to be so short. He was in such a rush but Robyn cut him off straight away with a question, just asking him right out if it was ok if she went to see him. Running her hands through her hair again, she was so relieved he didn’t want an explanation, happy to just say yes.

After using the toilet in the service station, Robyn walked to the sink and once she had washed her hands, splashed some water on her face. She hadn’t heard any more from Taron except a text with the address of where he was filming and she had already typed that in google maps, so she knew where she was going. He started work at seven and now just before nine, Robyn’s journey to Belfast had been a slow one thanks to traffic and her own bubbling nerves and feelings.

Robyn leaned her hands on the sink in the bathroom, closing her eyes as her head spun again, this time the world spinning behind her closed eyes. The pain in her head increased for a few seconds as she faltered on her feet again, gripping the marble sink top until she felt steady. Moaning at the pain in her head, she was dreading the rest of her journey but had come so far now and needed to get to Taron no matter how long it took her. Glancing in the mirror, there was a horrid tiredness on her face that hadn’t been there that morning but she wasn’t surprised after her day.

Robyn took her time leaving the bathroom at the service stop, concerned about her two dizzy spells but now that they had passed, it was her headache that was causing her pain. Never one to get a headache, Robyn was so uncomfortable with the constant pounding in her head and before she left the petrol station bought some paracetamol and bottle of water, praying two would at least ease the ache. Once back in her car, she swallowed two of the tablets and drank the water, not stopping until the bottle was empty. Letting her head lean against the head rest, she closed her eyes. It would only take about half an hour to finish her journey to Taron but she felt like she just needed a quick nap before she started to car again, her whole body exhausted. Lifting her right elbow she used it to tap down the lock of the car. Taron knew she was coming but with their quick minute conversation, he really had no idea why or at what time, just that she was on her way to him. Crossing her arms over herself, she sank down a little in her seat and tried to get somewhat comfortable, praying the pain killers she took would work quickly for her.

Robyn woke with a start, her breathing fast as she took her in surroundings, remembering she was in her car, still parked in the service station. The loud heavy rain battered against the windows and the sound had woken her up, along with a slightly bad dream of watching a terrified Taron being wheeled away from her in the hospital in Florida. Checking her watch, it was just after eleven and she rubbed her eyes, taken back at how long she had slept. Looking out the front window, the station was still busy, cars pulling in and out and she groaned as she brought her hands to her head, the headache still there but now it had moved to behind her eyes and the tablets she had taken seemed to have had no effect on it. She fumbled around for her phone on the passenger seat, shivering a little with the cold in the car and finding her keys, started the car and turned the heat on full, then looking for her phone. She had a missed call, two texts and voice mail from Taron.

“Hey Robyn. I have told the security that you are coming up this way so you can just walk on through to me. I am always here for you chicken and ready and waiting with a long squishy hug. Hope this was long enough of a voice mail with some Welsh tones for you. See you soon.”

With the car slowly heating up, Robyn was concerned the heat would make her tired, so she turned it off and rolled down her window, feeling the rain on her skin. Clicking into her maps on her phone, she set up the directions for the remainder of her journey, hoping she had enough data left to make the drive. She had driven into Northern Ireland before but never so far, usually getting the train if she wanted to go to Belfast so needed to helpful directions to get her where she needed to go. With only a street address, she figured Taron was filming exactly where he had text her. She got her phone set up in the holder on the windscreen and once she had pulled her seatbelt on, checked she was clear to move off, thankful she was more than halfway to seeing Taron. She definitely needed that hug and had a lot to get off her chest.

The voice on maps brought her on the ring roads around Belfast and into a much quieter part of the city and as she came into a cosy housing estate, she had to make two U-turns as her way was blocked off. Realising she had come to the edge of the closed set, decided to find a place to park, which was quite difficult in the dark and she had no idea of the area. Eventually she parallel parked into a small space around the corner from where she had made the second U-turn and once she had locked the car, shoved her keys into her pocket and walked towards the blocked off area. Still raining, though not as heavy as it had been, she brought her octopus with her, knowing it was all she needed to give to Taron for him to know something had happened, though she was pretty sure he knew that already. She followed the blockade around, seeing some bright flood lights ahead and underneath them, a small hut with two people inside. After midnight, there was no one else around and as Robyn approached the entrance to set, the two guards came out to greet her.

“Evening.” One said politely. “I am afraid I am going to have to ask you to go back the way you came. This area is all closed. Unless you have a residents pass of course.”

Robyn shook her head. “No resident’s pass. My name is Robyn Quinn?” She said cautiously, not too sure if these were the security Taron had mentioned to her but as she saw the first guard look to the second and then to a clipboard in his hands, she was sure she was in the right place.

“Robyn?” The guard asked again. “Got some ID on you?”

“Yeah of course.” Robyn opened her purse and pulled out her driving license, handing it over to the guard, who double checked the photo and then gave it back to her.

“So you are Robyn.”

“Yep, that’s me.”

“Taron told us you would be heading this way.” The guard gave her a smile. “I have a pass for you.” He took three steps back to the small hut and came back out with a black lanyard, a blue rectangular pass attached to it. He handed it over to her. “Please wear this at all times when on the set. Lets us know who you are and that you are full access to all areas in set.”

Robyn took the pass and looking at it was so surprised to see her photo on it, along with her name. She placed it around her neck and looked back to the guard, so unsure of what she was to do next.

“If you would just wait here for a few minutes. I will give the directors assistant a call who can bring you onto the set.” The guard explained to her.

“Sure no problem.”

The rain was still spitting a little and Robyn felt a shiver run through her, along with another quick spell of light headedness and she closed her eyes, until it passed, hoping the two guards didn’t see her wobble a little before she found her footing. She held the octopus tight in her right hand, trying to keep herself together, praying she could keep her composure even after she saw Taron but now knowing she was so close to him, she felt dead on her feet and with a new tiredness filling her whole body, she just wanted a squishy hug and then to sit down.

“And you must be the famous Miss Quinn.”

Robyn turned on her heels to see a man coming towards her behind the barrier carrying a large umbrella. He had a friendly face, his own lanyard around his neck and as well as the umbrella he carried a light grey rain coat which looked very familiar to Robyn.

“It is so nice to finally meet you.” The man held out his hand. “I am Joe. I am Matthew’s assistant.” He lightly shook Robyn’s hand. “Taron is currently on set filming but he asked me to greet you and bring you to him. He also asked me to give you this. Said you wouldn’t have a jacket.” Joe handed over the raincoat to her, his head tilting a little. “I guess he was right.”

Robyn reached out and took the coat from him, remembering Taron throwing it into his case less than a week ago and the frown she gave him as she folded it for him. It was light but completely water proof and Robyn was thankful for the extra layer of protection from the miserable weather that had yet to lift. “Thank you and I am Robyn but you know that. It is nice to meet you. Taron has mentioned a Joe once or twice when I have been speaking to him about set.” She rolled the sleeves up twice and pocketed her belongings, but kept the octopus out, the plush a little damp from the rain.

Joe gave her a large smile. “Is it ok to say he has definitely mentioned your name more than once.”

Robyn couldn’t help but smile back, a genuine smile on her lips, the first all day. “Yeah that’s ok.”

Joe laughed a little. “Right well do you want to come on with me?”

“Sure thank you.”

Finally getting past the barrier, Robyn followed the director’s assistant, thanking him again as he gave her shelter from the rain with the umbrella. Looking around, there was nothing to say it was a movie set to her, nothing out of the ordinary like she had seen in New York, the road they were walking down, a normal housing estate. It wasn’t until she turned the corner that she saw the rigs and cranes for the camera’s, the tracks on the ground for the cameras to run on and the number of people around, all bundled up against the rain.

“The set is live.” Joe said to Robyn in a slight whisper, turning to her. “What I mean is they are filming right now. We just have to be very quiet so not to disturb the scene. It’s been a long night already and we are only five hours in. I will bring you all the way but you just have to watch your step and be super quiet.”

“I don’t want to disturb the filming Joe.” Robyn said stopping. “I know from Taron how tedious it can be and I don’t mind waiting until they have a break. I can go back and wait in my car.”

“And if I do that, Taron will murder me. I am under strict instructions to bring you right to him, but to tell you he is filming. We can wait on the side.”

“I really don’t want to get in the way Joe. The schedule is so tight.” Robyn didn’t follow Joe but stood as she was. “Really I can wait for Taron.”

Joe reached back and took her arm. “You won’t be in the way. Matthew is fine with it too. Apparently he is waiting for another stormy scene?”

Robyn could feel the blush fill her cheeks. “Not going to happen but if everyone is ok with it, I am intrigued to watch from behind the scenes.”

“Everyone is ok with it. Come on. Watch your step.”

Robyn continued to follow Joe, carefully stepping over cables and tracks, keeping very close to the man in front who was leading her towards Taron. As she got closer, she could see a lot more people together in one place, camera men and sound technicians holding onto their gear, keeping still and quiet and as they walked to a wooden fence, Robyn finally got her first glimpse of Taron. On his knees, his hands held up to his face, the actor opposite him towering over him, screaming at him. It was a natural response and Robyn’s hands flew to her mouth after her loud gasp echoed around the quiet set as the actor in front of Taron, slapped him hard.

“Shit!” Robyn cursed under her hands, mortified as everyone looked her way. Holding her hands up, Robyn looked sheepishly to Matthew who was a few feet away from her. “Erm sorry! My bad.” She apologised. “So sorry. Really really sorry.”

#Taron Egerton #Taron Egerton Fanfiction #Taron Egerton Fanfic #Taron Fanfic #Hospital #Love #Friendship #Hurt #Stress #Anxiety #Worry #Needing Friends #Support #Someone to talk to #Unexpected Visits #Health #Set Visits #Surprise #Best Friends #Robyn and Taron

[smashrhenae23]

I would love to know how many people actually get sleep the night before a surgery. It’s 2am and I will be woken up by the nurses around 5:30 or 6am, in order to shower and start getting prepped. I will be going under the knife for my second thoracotomy. They will be doing a lobectomy on my left lung, which is a removal of one of the lobes. Hopefully this will be the last speed bump in my long recovery.

This past September, I caught a cold and went to an urgent care center to see if I actually had COVID. Test was negative, but the doctor said I had bronchitis. No big deal, right? I used to get that type of stuff all of the time when I was young. About a week later, I went in to work and had to leave about an hour later since I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I had progressively been getting worse so I assumed I had COVID and that last test wasn’t right. I went to a different urgent care, and I was immediately put on oxygen. They did a COVID test (negative) and an X-ray. The X-ray showed that my entire left lung was whited out, and said they needed to call an ambulance to take me to the hospital (only 6 miles away 🙄). While at the hospital, they put in a chest tube. The doctor had told me that they didn’t get many people needing chest tubes and I would probably be sent to a bigger hospital. That was pretty much the last thing I remember before waking up in a hospital in Tulsa, OK....6 days later.

I was so confused and still highly medicated, and started begging for them to call my mom. I also was convinced that she had sent me there for punishment, and that they had taken me into outer space to do it. I hurt everywhere, didn’t understand why there were so many manchines, etc. My mom got there and explained what she could. I had been life flighted and put on life support. I went septic and had a thoracotomy to drain and clean out that lung. I had 3 chest tubes at that point. I had lost most function of my hand. I was on life support for 6 days and was told that they didn’t think I was going to survive that first night.

I spent 20 days in, was sent home, then came back 4 days later because I couldn’t breathe. I was admitted and spent another 14 days. At least I got to spend time with my daughter on her birthday when I was home those short 4 days. Altogether during those 34 days, I had a thoracotomy, thoracentisis, 6 chest tubes, a JP tube (draining from my stomach), 256 X-rays, 1 MRI, and 30 something CTs. They diagnosed me with Necrotizing Pneumonia, Necrotizing Pancreatitis, and they found a large pseudocyst. The pseudocyst went from behind my liver, up through a hole in my diaphragm, and was pushing up against my esophagus. I was sent home with IV antibiotics and I’m now on a 24 hour one while still going to work and taking care of my kids.

Which brings us to today. I started coughing up blood on January 2. Its been a constant, all day, bright red blood anywhere from the size of a quarter to a handful if I have a coughing fit. I spent this month going back and forth to see 4 of my doctors. I had a couple of CTs, xrays, labs, and a bronchoscopy. The doctors all said everything looks great and is getting better, but my left lobe is what is causing the blood. They believe it was just damaged too much during the previous stay.

I’m ready to get this over with. I’m also dreading the pain. They will go through my same scar that goes from under my armpit, around to about an inch away from my spine. It is still very tender. I’m not looking forward to the discomfort of the tubes, the box I have to carry around, the walks you have to take while in pain, the feel of the tubes being yanked out, etc. With how sick I was, I was told it would take at least a year of recovery. I’m just hoping this is my last surgery.

Anyways, wish me luck!

Ashley

#thoracotomy #thoracentisis #lobectomy #chest tubes #pneumonia #pseudocyst #coughingupblood #surgery

[blackfreethinkers]

By Elie Mystal

This Saturday, September 12, 2020, still image taken from video released by the Los Angeles County Sheriff's Department shows Los Angeles Sheriff Alex Villanueva taking questions at a late-night news conference about the condition of two sheriff's deputies in Compton, Calif. (Los Angeles County Sheriff's Department via AP)

Video released over the weekend captures an unknown assailant firing indiscriminately into a police cruiser in an attempt to murder the two Los Angeles County sheriff’s deputies sitting inside. Thankfully, the officers appear to have survived the attempt on their lives. A manhunt is underway for the suspect, and police have offered a $100,000 reward for information leading to his capture.

As I sit down to write this, it is tempting to give in to my complete disgust with how the police usually frame and the media then cover a more common situation—police shootings of unarmed Black people—by offering some of my own “just presenting both sides” coverage. When a cop fires indiscriminately into a car, killing a man as his girlfriend sits beside him and her baby in the back seat—which is precisely what happened to Philando Castile—the media bends over backward to present the murderer’s side of the story. There’s no manhunt; the killer is allowed to turn himself in peacefully, at his convenience. Later, he gets cleared of all charges. The cops who kill us almost always go free.

I could write that piece, but I’m not going to, because, while such a piece would be righteous and justified, it would also be wrong. I hope they catch the guy seen in the video shooting those cops, I really do. I hope they take him alive and that he stands trial for his suspected crimes. I’d rather not use the attempted murder of two police officers as a Matthew McConaughey opportunity to say, “Now imagine the shooter was white.”

I just wish that the rest of the media could restrain itself from turning the attempted murder of police officers into an indictment of the protests against the police who murder Black people. As it is, the police stenographers employed by many mainstream media outlets are falling into that trap. Reporters are already republishing police narratives about why the shooting happened, without verifying the police stories or calling police speculation about why the shooting took place just that: speculation, in the absence of any evidence.

In the immediate aftermath of the shooting, the official Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department Twitter account tweeted out the following: “To the protesters blocking the entrance & exit of the HOSPITAL EMERGENCY ROOM yelling ‘We hope they die’ referring to 2 LA Sheriff’s ambushed today in #Compton: DO NOT BLOCK EMERGENCY ENTRIES & EXITS TO THE HOSPITAL. People’s lives are at stake when ambulances can’t get through.”

That tweet gave the impression that some kind of street uprising had sprung up at the hospital, and that the many people clearly involved had attempted in some way to deny injured police officers medical care. The narrative that protesters “blocked” the hospital entrance was then picked up by the press, so I heard MSNBC’s Hallie Jackson repeating it on her show when I turned on the television Monday morning.

After hearing the charge, I went to the Internet to look for the video of this alleged protest. Here is what the LA County sheriffs were apparently talking about. As you can see in the video, the “protest” appears to be about four guys hovering around the emergency entrance, shouting invectives. It wasn’t a protest, and they weren’t preventing any medical vehicles from entering or exiting the hospital. It was a few people who gave into the justified-yet-wrong anger I myself overcame this morning through the grace of coffee and the backspace key.

To call this group of individuals “protesters who blocked the entrance,” as the police did, is misleading at best. To repeat the disinformation, as journalists did, simply because it was on a police Twitter account, is bad journalism.

As the police were arresting one of the men shouting at the cops, an NPR radio reporter, Josie Huang, stepped forward to get a better look. Police tackled and injured her. Police claimed that Huang didn’t identify herself as a reporter and refused to leave the area when asked. Over the weekend, the media again reflexively reprinted this police narrative.

Then Huang released her own video of the event. It shows that she immediately “backed up” when told to do so and identified herself as a reporter even as police were throwing her to the ground.

Reporters who reprint or rebroadcast the official story for why police tackled a reporter, without first talking to the reporter tackled, deserve to be tackled by other, better reporters.

As nearly every Black person has been trying to tell the media since the invention of “police”: Cops lie. They lie, mislead, or issue untruthful statements all the time. White journalists must stop repeating police lies, uncritically, without demanding evidence to back up police claims or even doing a bare-minimum Google search to see if there is video that directly contradicts police statements.

Skepticism of police statements should be a basic requirement of competent journalism, but it is particularly critical in times like this, when police have a reason to lie. The police are angry at the attempted murder of two officers, and they want other people to be angry, so they are not even trying to provide an accurate account of events. Instead, they are trying to build a case against Black Lives Matter.

Los Angeles County Sheriff Alex Villanueva (whose office tweeted out the misleading story about “protesters” at the hospital) could barely contain his contempt for BLM protesters in his statement about the shooting. “This is just a somber reminder that this is a dangerous job, and actions and words have consequences. Our job does not get any easier because people do not like law enforcement,” Villanueva said. “It pisses me off. It dismays me at the same time.”

In this statement, Villanueva is trying to draw a direct line between the “actions and words” of protesters to the attempted murder of police officers. He seems less interested in drawing a line from police brutality and the murder of Black people to the attempted murder of police officers.

The reality is that we don’t know why the suspect tried to kill those two officers, but we can see with our own eyes that his actions were wrong and dangerously misguided. Speculation into his motives is irresponsible absent evidence. It’s wrong for journalists to speculate, and it’s wrong for journalists to repeat the unverified, potentially unhinged speculations of the LA County sheriff without any evidence whatsoever.

It’s not like the social justice organization ambushed two police officers in a parked car. It’s not like social justice organizations have a history of targeting police officers for murder. But the person who did target and ambush police officers appears to be Black and thus, apparently, it’s all our faults. That’s how racial profiling works, don’t you know.

So the police already have their villain, and they are enacting their retribution. On Sunday, LA County sheriff’s deputies shut down a “protest encampment” across from LA City Hall. The holdouts had been there for months, living peacefully, but cops cleared it mere hours after the shooting. Cops claim it was taken down because of “deteriorating conditions,” but nobody is required to be addled enough to believe them.

The inability and unwillingness of the media to accurately report on police lies and sensationalism will have the effect of excusing additional acts of police brutality. The police will point to the one guy who shot police officers (for reasons not yet known) and the one dude who shouted “I hope y’all die” as justification for cops to go out on the street tonight and violate the constitutional rights of Black people, or beat Black people, or kill Black people. And by refusing to call out police hysteria, the media will make that hysteria seem reasonable.

Given the stakes, it’s not too much to ask the media to do its job. It’s not too much to ask journalists to act like journalists instead of stenographers. If I can restrain myself from being a snarky, irresponsible axe-grinder when it comes to “blue lives,” it’s not too much to ask mainstream sources to think before retweeting or republishing the latest round of blue lies.

[duggardata]

All The Data:  Joy + Austin

The Couple—

Joy–Anna (Duggar) Forsyth  (b. October 28, 1997)

Parents   Jim Bob + Michelle Duggar

Child #   9 of 19

Hometown   Tontitown, AR

Early Education   ATI/IBLP Homeschooling  (to 2016) (See Counting On (9–13–16), “Meet The Parents,” ~40:45)

Higher Education   Coursework at “Bible College”  (Online)

Occupation   Stay–at–Home Mother  (2018—); Staff Member, Fort Rock Family Camp  (Combs, AR; 2016—)

Austin Martyn Forsyth  (b. December 11, 1993) (See Also)

Parents   Terry + Roxanne Forsyth

Child #   2 of 2; 4 of 4  (w/ Half Siblings)

Hometown   _____, TX; Combs, AR  (See World’s Strictest Parents (6–6–09), “Forsyth Family”)

Early Education   ATI/IBLP Homeschooling  (Id.)

Higher Education   [ None Apparent ]

Credentials   Certified EMT  (AR; 2018—); Licensed Private Pilot—Single Engine  (2016—)

Occupation   Self–Employed  (House Flipper) (See Also Counting On (6–19–17), “Spurgeon’s First Birthday,” and Counting On (6–26–19), “A New Baby”); Staff Member, Fort Rock Family Camp  (Combs, AR)

... Previous   “Bulldozer Business”  (c. 2016)

The Relationship—

First Meeting   2002

Location   “Church”  (Cross Church—Springdale; Springdale, AR) 

Details   Jim Bob + Michelle first met the Forsyths in 2002.  Joy + Austin likely met when their parents did:  Joy says that, when they met, she was five years old, and he was eight.  Joy turned five in October 2002.  Austin turned eight in December 2001.  So...  They must’ve met in 2002, before Joy’s Birthday (October 28).  They knew each other for ~15 Years, before they started courting.

Pre–Courtship   Spring 2016

Details   We have a few hints about Joy + Austin’s early relationship, but not enough to estimate a date.  We know, for example, that Joy + Austin had their first ‘date’ in August 2016.  (See Counting On (10–2–17), “Joy + Austin’s Camping Trip.”  See Also.)  Also, in May 2017, Joy recalled that Austin first showed an interest in her “about a year [prior].”  (Id.)  While at flight school on September 6, 2016, Austin sent Joy flowers.  And, about a year before Austin proposed to Joy, he asked Jim Bob’s permission to get to know her on “a closer, friendship level.”  (See Counting On (6–26–17), “A New Baby.”  See Also.)

Courtship   November 6–15, 2016  (Duggar Data uses November 11, 2016.)

Location   “The Rock”  (Scenic Overlook); Combs, AR (or Nearby)

Timing   We don’t know exactly when Joy + Austin started courting, but we know it happened between November 6–15, 2016:  On Counting On (10–1–18), “Josiah + Lauren’s Prank–less Wedding,” Joy + Austin shared that they were not yet courting at Jinger + Jeremy’s Wedding (November 5, 2016).  So, their courtship started sometime after that, but before they publicly announced it on November 15, 2016.

Details   Austin took Joy on a hike to “The Rock.”  Once there, he made a little speech, saying:  “I don’t think it’s any coincidence or accident the way the Lord has brought our friendship together.  I would be honored if you would be more than just friends, if you would go to the next step and enter a courtship with me.”  Joy replied:  “I would love to.”

Announced   November 15, 2016 by TLC  (After Counting On (11–15–16), “Jinger’s Wedding”)  (+0–6 Days)

Featured On   Counting On (2–27–17), “A Honeymoon and A Courtship”  (Clip)

Engagement   March 2, 2017  (Thursday)

Location   Equestrian Trial; _____, AR  (See Counting On (7–10–17), “Joy Gets Engaged”)

Details   During their courtship, Joy let Austin know that she'd prefer an intimate, non–public proposal.  Austin delivered and asked Joy to marry him at a private, woodsy spot that he’d hiked to many times.  Joy didn’t even realize there were cameramen there, because they hid in the trees!  Johannah and Jennifer chaperoned the proposal.

Announced   March 3, 2017 by Us Weekly  (Exclusive; +1 Day)

Featured On   Counting On (7–10–17), “Joy Gets Engaged”

Marriage   May 26, 2017  (Friday)

Location   Cross Church—Pinnacle Hills; Rogers, AR

Announced   May 26, 2017 by People  (Exclusive; Same Day)

Officiant   Paul Caldwell  (Bride’s Sister–In–Law’s Father) (See Counting On (6–12–17), “Joy’s Wedding”)

MOH   Jill (Duggar) Dillard  (Bride’s Sister)

Best Man   Bobby Ballinger Jr.  (Groom’s Brother–In–Law) (See Counting On (10–16–17), “Joy + Austin Tie The Knot”)

Featured On   Counting On (6–12–17), “Joy’s Wedding” and Counting On (10–16–17), “Joy + Austin Tie The Knot”

Honeymoon   Switzerland  (See Also Counting On (2–26–18), “Love In Switzerland”)

The Quiver—

Gideon Martyn Forsyth  (b. February 23, 2018)

Pregnancy Announced   August 30, 2017 by People  (Exclusive; 104 Days Along)

Due Date   February 22, 2018

Birthdate & Time   February 23, 2018, 3:39 PM  (1 Day Late)

Weight & Length   10 Pounds, 3 Ounces; 22 Inches

Birth Announced   February 26, 2018 by People  (Exclusive; +3 Days)

Sex & Name Revealed   w/ Birth Announcement

Birth Details   Joy–Anna planned for a home birth.  She labored at home for ~19 Hours, before her midwife realized that the baby was breech, and she was taken to the hospital by ambulance.  She ultimately delivered by C–Section.  (See Counting On (9–3–18), “A Birth Day and A Birthday.”)

Featured On   Counting On (9–3–18), “A Birth Day and A Birthday”

Annabell Elise Forsyth  (Stillborn, June 2019)

Pregnancy Announced   May 1, 2019 by Us Weekly  (Exclusive; ~12–14 Weeks Along)

Due Date   November ___, 2019  (See Also.  An ultrasound image, along with known facts about Kendra, Lauren, and Anna’s due dates, indicated Joy was due between November 2–6; however, if she lost the pregnancy in Week 20, that suggests a due date between November 7–13.)

Date of Loss   c. June 26, 2019  (~20 Weeks Along)

Loss Announced   July 3, 2019 on the Forsyths’ Instagram  (+7 Days)

Sex & Name Revealed   w/ Stillbirth Announcement

... that’s “All The Data” we have, so far!

#all the data #joy and austin #master post

[magpiedminx]

From above :    PSA on Britney Spears and the #FreeBritney movement for anyone that needs or wants more information on what is going on with her. It’s a fucking rabbit hole, so buckle up. A little backstory first. Britney was a child star starting at the age of 4 years old on Broadway, and then worked her way to the Mickey Mouse Club, and eventually the solo career we know today. Her career has been on autopilot her entire life. If you look back at her music, she’s been telling everyone for years she’s too controlled and treated as a product if you listen to the lyrics of most of her hits. Examples include: Lucky, Overprotected, My Perogative, Circus, Piece of Me and Gimme More. Her music videos, social media posts, tour props and photoshoots regularly show her in a cage or in chains. If anyone has ever seen videos of her when she was younger, you’d know her REAL singing voice is very similar to Christina Aguilera’s. Her record label didn’t like it, as they were both on the Mickey Mouse Club and about to release their debut albums at the same time. So they had her voice retrained to sing in the baby voice we all know today because they believed it to be more iconic and would create a brand and career for her instead of her real voice. It’s unhealthy, and it’s been destroying her voice over the years, thus why she is known for lip syncing. She wanted to make an acoustic type pop album in 2006 titled Original Doll and reinvent herself using her real voice. The album was shelved and cancelled once her label realized she would be singing in her real voice. She isn’t allowed to sing live because she will either fail terribly, or she’ll have to sing in her deep voice that she isn’t known for. Her entire career she has been treated like a product meant to sell. Now, for the real tea. Everyone remembers the 2007 meltdown. Everyone. Leading up the meltdown Britney was going thru a public divorce, had two children under the age of 2 at the time and was VERY much the focus of the public. We all saw her on every magazine cover. We all also saw the photo of her with one of her kids on her lap while driving. Go on YouTube once and look up ‘Britney Spears paparazzi’. You’ll watch her be chased and followed by hundreds of them, even trying to get into a public restroom to photograph her, videotaping her in tears asking them to leave her alone, and even filming her thru the windows of an ambulance while she was naked being taken away for her final mental health hold. After the public meltdown, shaving her head, locking herself in her home with her children, speaking in a british accent on regular basis, wearing the imfamous pink wig everywhere, and shopping naked, she was hospitalized twice. After the hospitalization, her father petitioned the courts to be a TEMPORARY conservator to her until she was mentally stable and for only one years time. 2 months after her hospitalization she did a guest appearance on How I Met Your Mother. 6 months after her hospitalization, she drops the Womanizer video and starts to promote her new album Circus with its worldwide tour that grossed $131.8 million. If she’s so unwell, why did she start working right away? Her father after one year petitioned the courts for the conservatorship to become permanent due to her ALLEGEDLY having EARLY ONSET DEMENTIA in her TWENTIES. It passed and has been that way ever since. For 12 years to be exact. Now for everyone that doesn’t understand what that means let me break it down for you. Britney Spears is a now 38 year old woman who is not allowed to do the following without her fathers permission or he can legally lock her up in a mental health facility: • drive a car • vote • get married • have children • spend HER OWN MONEY • see how her money is being spent • see her children (she has 30% custody of both of her boys due to her dad assaulting one of her sons) • leave her home • hire her own lawyer • have any control over her career • speak about the conservatorship publicly • do interviews that aren’t scripted and all final cuts are approved by her father as well • use a cell phone without being monitored • use social media unmonitored • contact ANYONE without being monitored or having them extremely vetted. (Iggy Azalea allegedly had her house searched for drugs top to bottom when they collaborated on a song together) • go shopping • go for a walk • get Starbucks A conservatorship is meant for people with mental health issues or decaying health. Most likely grandparents or people with actual dementia etc. They are meant for people who literally cannot take care of themselves. If she is so unwell that she isn’t mentally capable of doing anything for herself, why is she still working? Since the conservatorship began 12 years ago she has: • released 4 albums • done 3 worldwide tours • did a FOUR-year Vegas residency • was a full time judge on X-Factor • released multiple perfumes and a lingerie line • made $138 MILLION DOLLARS or so A YEAR In January of last year, Britney was placed in a mental health facility for 3 months after being seen driving her car to In-N-Out with her boyfriend without permission and for refusing to take the sedating medications her father has doctors prescribing her to keep her under control. She testified to a judge in documents that she was held there against her will by her father. After it was leaked to the press that she was there against her will, the Free Britney movement picked up speed causing a judge to open an investigation into the impact and legality her conservatorship has on her life. Britney’s mother Lynn was also liking and commenting on Free Britney posts saying she agrees that Britney is trapped by her father. Britney’s team had Twitter disable the Free Britney hashtag, and regularly threatens any celebrity that speaks out using the hashtag with a lawsuit if they don’t remove their support for the movement. She was seen shortly after leaving a hotel thru the front door (99% of celebrities park underground to avoid paparazzi unless they WANT to be photographed) stumbling while carrying her shoes, and out of it. Her team used that moment to justify to the public that she needs this conservatorship. She is not allowed to have any say in the hiring or firing of anyone on her team. Every year she pays $1.1 million dollars in fees for the conservatorship to continue, including paying her father a solid $100k+ salary and paying a lawyer she isn’t allowed to choose. She is allowed an allowance of around $1,500 a week for bills, shopping and essentials. Her net worth is $250 million. So, when everyone sees her on Instagram walking up and down her hallways like it’s a fashion show. That’s all she is allowed to do. She has NEVER had control over her life. I don’t care if you personally like her or her music, NO ONE DESERVES THIS. All this woman wants is to see her children, make the music she wants to make, and go get a frappuccino in her car. She is a light of sunshine in this world, and we must protect her at all costs. So please, do not make fun of her, support the Free Britney movement, and send good vibes her way. She has a court date this month to review the conservatorship and decide if it is abusive or will continue to be in place. There are so many details to this that i left out that would make this post entirely much longer than it is, but a simple search will show you what else is out there. Spread this far and wide. ❤️ Free Britney Edited to add some important links! Here’s a google doc of info https://docs.google.com/document/d/17jeZV78SCwgQGsOkad0H0PA8jqjgRsxgSqD9f_f1yAk/edit Petition by Danny H: https://petitions.whitehouse.gov/petition/conservatorship-and-civil-liberties-britney-spears Screenshots of leaked emails, voicemails, and other helpful links: https://www.businessinsider.com/inside-britney-spears-conservatorship-freebritney-movement-2020-2 https://www.latimes.com/california/story/2019-09-17/britney-spears-conservatorship-free-britney https://www.forbes.com/sites/trialandheirs/2019/05/15/making-sense-of-the-britney-spears-conservatorship-and-freebritney/#5ce808c94b74 Jayden going on Instagram live reporting they were being abused by his grandfather: https://theblast.com/c/britney-spears-son-jayden-james-instagram-live-video-free-britney This is a news article from USA Today about her father’s child abuse allegations filed by Kevin Federline. He reportedly had an altercation with Sean in September 2019: https://www.google.com/amp/s/amp.usatoday.com/amp/2362531001 Source from the opposing view pointing to the success of her conservatorship and that fans are wrong, I think it's weird she has made no formal appearances to contest the conservatorship in court but she said (link above) we were not being told the truth and the media is being manipulated: https://www.usatoday.com/story/entertainment/celebrities/2019/10/24/britney-spears-why-does-she-still-need-conservator/2288009001/ There's a lot of money at stake to keep her in this situation. Just seems too convenient that she can't care for herself considering her net worth, and considering the fact her male counterparts of equal stardom with public mental health battles have never been under this much control. This is an issue and question of abuse in conservatorships at large. Unfortunately, the princess of Pop has somehow become the poster child of this type of crisis. While conservatorships can be beneficial when the best interest is at heart, we can't ignore the fact there are companies that profit enormously from people with disabilities by keeping them under extensive legal control. Are they providing the best care? If Britney has been too unwell to care for herself these past 12 years, why would she be made to work tirelessly? World tours? Vegas? X-factor? Her perfume line? Why not let her rest? Here's a good excerpt from Forbes, it's just not clear what is going on, but my initial gut thinks there is something that is not right. "In this case, Jamie Spears did not have legal authority to force Britney into treatment or to take psychiatric medications. But that doesn't mean that Britney's reported claim that she was held against her will is wrong. Rather, because Jamie has so much control over Britney's life through the conservatorship - including decisions like whether to get married, to perform or live in Las Vegas, or even if she can drive a car - he easily could have refused to grant consent for Britney to do any number of things unless she agreed to his request to enter the mental health treatment facility. In other words, Jamie could have indirectly forced her into treatment even if he could not explicitly sign her in against her will. But, even if Jamie Spears did so, he may have done it out of an earnest believe that Britney needed the treatment. TMZ previously reported that Britney was not doing well and her old course of medications stopped working, necessitating heightened treatment." Take what you will from this, but here are a few petitions to reinstate her rights in August is here - http://chng.it/CMfngqyMBj https://www.change.org/p/team-britney-freebritney

[i-am-here-with-fanfic]

The Illegitimate Son- Ch. 3 2/2

           Aria was in her room, laying outstretched on the bed, tears staining her cheeks. She was stressed but worked up the strength to shout from her room. “Alright, I made some sandwiches to snack on. Feel free to make some dessert, Faian. I think we could use some later…” 

           She got up, trudging to the mirror hanging on the wall and saw how messy she looked. She didn’t even get out of her work uniform and her hair certainly looked like she was in a rush. Taking a deep breath, she began to fix herself up. She started with her hair, then changed into different clothes and nodded to herself.  

           ‘Here goes nothing…’ she thought. Looking next to the mirror, she gazed at the three framed pictures on the wall. Aaron never entered her room out of respect, so he had no idea as to how it was decorated, or that she had those three pictures. 

           The first picture was of a blond boy, with ruffled hair and two long bangs that were nearly blocking his eyes. He had a missing tooth, but he showed off his smile at the Kindergarten picture day.  

           The second was from when she had taken the two camping when they were ten. Aaron had dyed his hair by then, styling it back, and was trying to hug Faian as he wore a goofy grin. Faian, sporting a similar smile, kept him at bay with his tail. 

           The third one was a picture of Aaron in his ice-skating uniform, winning first place in the local juvenile league and qualifying for state. He was definitely proud of himself, showing off his gold medal to his mom as he stood atop the pedestal. It was taken just a couple months before Aaron graduated middle school and Faian received his provisional license. 

           Aria fought the urge to sob as she tore herself from the smiles of her son. With a shaky breath and a few fans at her face, she steeled herself as she stepped out of the bedroom.  

           Walking towards the kitchen, Faian spotted her first as he sat across from Aaron, whose back was turned.  

           “Mum.” 

           “Hey, Mom.” Aaron turned with a light smile.  

           “Hey, sweethearts… how was school?”  

           “It was cool…” Aaron muttered, swirling his glass around dejectedly.  

           Faian knew he was lying, and he easily picked up on Aria’s discomfort. Without skipping a beat, he broke the tension by recounting about his day. He glazed over most of his classes but went into detail about the hero training. They performed what was called a ‘Battle Trial’, pitting pairs of students against each other in hypothetical scenarios. Unfortunately, he did not get to actively participate as the teacher had showed a recording of him performing a similar exercise with some second years when he first began the process of transferring back in September of last year, followed by him having to give a thorough analysis of each pair of students. 

           “That’s amazing! I can’t believe they’re already having you guys train.” Aria responded, relaxing a little. 

           “It is not much different than the college back in the States, but I do hope I get to do more than just act as an aide.” 

           Aaron smiled and shook his head. “Imagine if Eraserhead was there; I saw him one time and, oh my god, I couldn’t stop trembling. He looks so intimidating.” 

           Aria continued chatting with the two, easing herself as Aaron talked more about his day; however, when he checked his phone for the time, Aria spoke up, her demeanor changing. 

           “Oh, I told your Coach you wouldn’t be skating today.”  

           Aaron had a questioning look in his eyes, but it soon went away as his mother continued.  

           “Well, I need the time to tell you about who your father is…and to explain how… how it all happened.”  

           She was hesitant at first, but as she took Aaron’s hands in her own, squeezing them to reassure herself, she continued. “What I did… I am not a perfect being, but what I did was unforgiveable. Before you learn who your father is, I-I want to tell you how it happened.” 

           Aaron didn’t understand what was going on, but he gave a nervous smile and urged her to continue. Faian gave them both a reassuring smile before getting up to make some coffee, tea, and brownies. 

           I had just gotten my hero license part way through school. At the time, I was working with a friend, Jae, who wanted to create a costume of metal that worked with my Quirk. She was heavily inspired by Vikings and medieval knights, so of course it was going to be flashy. Jae knew David Shield, an intelligent scientist who specialized in creating support items and hero costumes so, we all worked together. Between them two, he was the hard-working one, and I offered to buy him lunch as a thank you for helping her. 

           When we decided on a place to go, Jae joined us as I wanted to thank her, too, for coming up with the idea; however, on our way to the restaurant we heard an explosion. Forgetting about lunch, we immediately ran over to the burning building. I couldn’t stop thinking about the people trapped inside and I ran in without thinking. 

           I was carrying two people when I heard cheering from outside. It was odd but I thought a more well-known hero had arrived, so I hurried to get those I was carrying to the paramedics before rushing back inside. Being a newer hero, some of the law enforcement tried to stop me, not knowing I was able to help, but also because the building was beginning to collapse. I couldn’t just stand aside knowing I was capable of helping. 

           After finding a few more people, I began to lead them out, using my battle-axe to shield us from falling debris and cutting through any rubble in our path. Unfortunately, a column had collapsed next to us, and the ceiling began to cave in. Without a moment to lose, I pushed the civilians through the exit. Within seconds, I was buried under tons of rubble. Although I was still conscious thanks to my Quirk, the smoke was suffocating, and the roaring fire lapped at my skin. I could barely hear the shouting outside, and I thought I heard someone mention that I was still inside. Whatever the case, I soon blacked out. 

           I woke up in a hospital bed, half expecting to be dead. I would’ve been fine if I was; I got to save a lot of people, after all. Turns out, your father was the one who saved me, and he came along with David and Jae in the ambulance. I was told they wouldn’t leave my room, except when one went to get food for the others. When I finally woke up, it was just your dad, sitting in a much too small chair to my left. 

           Aria smiled thoughtfully as she recalled the first time she met Aaron’s father. While he was still unsure of where she was going with this, it did calm Aaron to see his mom had positive memories about his dad. 

           As did the scent of his tea, Faian’s absurdly strong coffee, and whatever chocolatey goodness was baking in the oven. 

           He was staring intently at the monitor, and he didn’t notice I had woken up. Until I spoke, of course. He had such a handsome face that I was somewhat intimidated, and I ended up blurting out “Are you an angel?”

           Understandably, that had taken him by surprise. He was really awkward trying to explain himself, fortunately, Jae and David had arrived with some food and helped clear the air. Turns out, he was a transfer student with this captivating idea of becoming a symbol and pillar for the people, and David had made him a suit out of gratitude to help inspire others. 

           Soon after I recovered, Jae finished her project and told me to use the armor set as much as I wanted, and that if it ever broke, I can return it to her to get it fixed. I was glad that I had the costume because I could go out and help people in need with your father. His blinding determination and faith was contagious, I wanted nothing more than to help him in any way I could. But… All things have to come to an end, and even though he had decades ahead of him, I was still terrified of what might happen once he was gone. 

           Aria’s shoulders slumped as she hung her head, resting her cheek in the palm of her hand. Her eyes held a deep regret as she paused to take a breath. Aaron was gradually beginning to connect the dots as Faian’s eyes were wide in disbelief, his vertical pupils easily noticeable. 

           Eventually, he returned to Japan, but I couldn’t shake this uneasy feeling that something might happen. With every news report that covered his heroics, I grew more and more paranoid. 

           What if it was a trap?

           What if he didn’t make it this time? 

           What if…? 

           So many different tragedies ran through my head, and even when he came back to America years later to catch up with David, I still had those crippling thoughts. So, I came up with an idea, and made a secret promise to him that no matter what happened, he would have someone to continue his legacy. 

           Choking back sobs, Aria took a moment to compose herself, terrified of what her son may think of her. Faian gave her a light pat on the shoulder while Aaron had one hand covering his mouth, the other clutching his teacup tightly as tears welled in his eyes. Those brilliant blue eyes that were so very much like his father’s. 

           “I invited him out for drinks, and…” she wiped the tears from her eyes with the hem of her blouse, “and what we did… what I did… It was unforgivable… Fuck. Aaron, please know th-that I did what I-I thought was r-right… I gave him his heir. I had you…” 

           Aaron was silent, uncertain how to react. As his mother stood up to give him a hug, to try and reaffirm that she does actually love him, Aaron flinched. He clutched his stomach in pain, quickly excusing himself by saying ‘I don’t feel so…’ and rushing to the kitchen sink, retching uncontrollably. He held onto the sink for dear life, his knees buckling and needing Faian to support him as he continued to vomit. 

           When Aaron had finished, panting heavily, he turned to face his mom. Wiping off his saliva, he muttered “Who… who is my dad?” 

           Aria looked down at her feet, trying to find her words. Finally meeting his gaze, she answered the question he had longed to know. “Aaron… Your father… His name is Toshinori Yagi, better known as the Symbol of Peace- All Might.” 

           Faian was quick to catch Aaron, helping him to the table for a seat. Aria was kneeling by him, her arms holding him close as she cried into his shoulder. Aaron was still in shock, and Aria was in no condition to continue.  

           “I am not one for speaking when it is not desired, but I cannot, and shall not, lose another family. Mother, you clearly know you have done something awful, that alone is admirable, and you have spent so many years trying to right that wrong. It shows. I do not think Aaron would have wanted to model himself after you if you did not atone for your sin.” 

           Faian’s voice washed over Aria as she looked up at him, a soft inviting smile on his lips and his arms open. She stood, lingering by Aaron’s side before leaning into her adopted son’s embrace. His steady heartbeat calming her, he turned his attention towards Aaron. 

           “Brother. I do not pretend to know what you must be going through. My parents may have been heroes, and my great grandmother instrumental in normalizing Quirks; however, your father is a symbol. That is not to be taken lightly, but please understand that you do not need to follow in his footsteps. I think Mum has made that clear over the years.” 

           Aaron stood from his seat, steadying himself with the table before joining Faian and his mother in the embrace, tears streaming down his face as Aria burst into tears once more.  

           “No matter what stories we may weave, or the tales we may spin, there is no fathomable way to avoid the truth. We must accept it, and while it may render us apart, it is only temporary. We are indomitable, and we will continue to grow and learn and better ourselves in ways we cannot begin to imagine. I have no doubt that we will have our share of disagreements but know this- For so long as my heart beats, it beats for the two of you.”

--- 

           Aaron watched the streetlights pass by, his head leaning against the cool glass of the car door window. Once everyone had composed themselves, it was agreed that Aaron would spend the night at Faian’s, as he and Aria would need some time apart. Currently, Aria was driving to the two-story Victorian, her eyes fixated on the road ahead of her. Faian sat in the passenger seat, holding a parcel of the brownies he had baked during the reveal. 

           When they arrived, Aria was afraid to give Aaron a hug or approach him. She was terrified he saw her as a villain, and when he refused to meet her gaze, her eyes began to sting. With a simple nod, she turned to Faian and hugged him, thanking him for his help and letting him know she’ll pick Aaron up after school. 

           Aria drove off and Faian opened the door for Aaron. As they entered, Aaron spoke for the first time since leaving his mom’s apartment. 

           “I forgot to tell her I love her…” 

           “Aaron…” 

           “Do you think she loved him? I mean, really loved him. She’s a huge fan, but I… I don’t know…” 

           Faian only gave Aaron a reassuring hug before leading him to the guest room upstairs. After suggesting he take a bath before getting some sleep, Faian kissed Aaron on his forehead, wishing him a ‘pleasant night’ and leaving him to his thoughts. 

           Alone in the room, Aaron could only do as Faian suggested, still in shock that he is the son of the single greatest hero known to humanity. It shook him to his core, but he knew he had to figure something out. 

           Does he believe Faian and return to his mother, accepting the truth and begin a new chapter in his life? 

           Or does he reject it, pretending it was all just an elaborate lie and live in denial knowing he could do more? 

           He sat on the bed, his damp hair framing his face as he stared intently at the bedroom door. With a deep, shuddering sigh, Aaron shook his head as he came to his decision. Climbing under the covers, he kept to one side of the bed, his arms outstretched towards the empty half. He wept with a racing mind and heavy heart, unaware that halfway across town, his mother was curled up on his bed, a picture of her holding a newborn baby as she lay in a hospital bed resting on a pillow beside her. 

           Meanwhile, Faian stood in the middle of a room lined with bookshelves burdened by books and mementos, a projector hanging overhead as a magic circle slowly spun beneath him, the room bathed in an ethereal glow of gold and silver. 

           No one got much sleep that night. 

---

Beta Reader, Editor, and Collaborator- @starrylegend

#The illegitimate son #mha #mha oc #mha fanfiction #mha fanfic #fanfiction #my hero academia fanfiction #boku no hero oc #boku no hero academia #boku no hero academia fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #Aaron Granchester #Aria Granchester #Faian Nadal

[awakenedprince]

So uh. I know one of my more recent posts on here has been a hiatus, but here is another psa. Not exactly a hiatus. I don’t know what this is. Tbh, maybe I’m just writing this as an outlet, so I fully understand if people don’t want to click read more for fear of triggering content because fuck I know I’m getting triggered by tea of all things.

I’m still going to be around for the HalidomHappenings event, but the other two mods know the situation. I’ll still be around to help on dms as usual, since I know some people prefer talking to me personally rather than going to the event askbox, but please understand if I don’t respond immediately. I know it’s a few weeks away, but I am doing my best to take care of myself, which I have a bad track record with. Actual activity? Who knows.

11 and a half days ago, I found my grandmother dead just inside of our front door. Mum and I both did. If anyone’s seen some other posts this year or has known me for a while, this is the same grandmother who was hospitalised in March, who fell in late September, and I’ve had to rush to hospital years before that. I think I posted about how I was struggling to care for her a few months ago... Even despite all that, this was classed as an unexpected death, to the point the ambulance called the police because procedure states that they have to check for no foul play.

She had her heart monitored within a week of this, and was supposed to see a heart failure nurse this month. Unfortunately, that letter was actually posted the day we found her so it was too late... So yeah. Despite all her issues, this was sudden.

We haven’t heard the result from the coroner yet, but we’re thinking heart attack. Which is kind of fucked up given she was taken off her heart meds after the hospital stay. When she was re-admitted and had a fall in hospital. Which they blamed on poly-pharmacy i.e. Having too many meds. When she had a 39 degree celcius/102.2 farenheit temperature. Oh, and literally she had that fever when my parents were driving her out of the hospital, and dad had to turn the car around before truly getting off hospital grounds... The fall was on ward. Her discharge papers stated she came back because of the fall. We don’t know if it was a mistake or a cover up, as she was unsupervised during the fall.

We never got told why those heart meds were removed. We asked. She was diagnosed with heart failure 8 years ago, yet she was being reinvestigated for it.

She might have died anyway. It may have been inevitable; she was deteriorating badly, but the issues I’ve highlighted above aren’t the only things that went wrong, or are worrying. I love the NHS, and I’ve heard too much about the high costs in the US to want anything else. But we may genuinley need to pursue malpractice, depending on what the coroner says but if we do... That’s fucked up. I hope to fuck it isn’t malpractice because how the fuck are my mother or I ever going to be able to trust what our doctors tell us again? Along with all the other ramifications of that outcome.

...But that’s not the most important thing. I’ve lost the first person to hold me as a baby, before even my mother did. The person who instantly forgave me for any transgression and if we argued, started praying that I forgave her, even if I was clearly the one acting out because fuck she couldn’t stand the idea of hurting someone. The person who raised me when my parents were working abroad way more than was probably healthy for their child who can’t even remember when they started going away.

I came home, expecting a high pitched “Kati!” with her wolding up to me, ignoring how swollen her legs had become since coming off her heart meds, pulling me into a hug because I hadn’t seen her 23 days because I needed a break, and went abroad. Instead, as I was sorting out my bag, I heard my mum gasp, looked up, and saw my grandmother’s body. She’d had a visit the previous day from a Bulgarian woman (gran didn’t speak English) we were paying to chat with her for 2 hours a day, but even so she’d been there so long she’d gone into rigger mortis. Now I’m coping with her death with or without the added stress of a potential investigation into her medical treatment.

And as I typed that last paragraph, I pictured the scene I’d imagined as we were walking down the front drive. Once again I’m in tears because I want to hear that voice so bad, after I’d somehow made it through most of today alone in this house, picturing her body at the bottom of the stairs because there is no other way to get down to the kitchen or get out the front door. I had to take my glasses off because eyestrain isn’t as bad as not being able to see because my tears are fogging them up. I only came back from Bulgaria so early so that I could look after her and instead I’m alone in the fucking house whereas normally, I’d be constantly listening out for her moving about, terrified that she might fall. That I’d find her dead at the bottom of the stairs. Like I did. We don’t believe she fell, but she was exactly where I never wanted to find her.

The past couple of days there was a tree branch caught just above her bedroom window. Mum cut it yesterday, but it kept banging as if my gran was moving about in there.

I doubt anyone read all of this, but I thank you for any understanding you might have. I’m not going on hiatus again because hell I might want the distraction. Or I might vanish. I don’t know. My grandmother wasn’t someone you put in a care home and visit twice a year. She lived with us, and died in our home. I was her carer and before that, she was my babysitter. I don’t know how any of you are with your grandparents, and I understand that for anyone losing a family member is horrible. To me, this is like losing a parent.

I just want to hear my baba’s voice again. I want to eat her cooking, and I want her to hug me.

#tw: death #tw: grief #tw: sudden death #psa

[justateenagetearaway]

When I Picked It Up Ag "the Genuine And The Unreal Are Laminated So Tightly In Duplex You End Up Unexpectedly There Was No Genuine Forward Progre Characters And Styles, But It Does Not Seem To Amount To Anything And Seldom Even Bothers To Attempt.

Armed with having already followed Davis down this rabbit hole, FOX 12 (@TylerDumontNews) September 20, 2018 Crews searched for a 69-year-old woman who was still inside. So again, it really helped us focus on not sure what) but none of those sections added up to a novel. approx. .8 miles south this book is gorgeous. I don't know if it is really masterfully crafted or just begs to be reread. I wouldn have guessed from the cover that this novel had robots, a sorcerer, fairy Hal Girls/omens bodily horror is so everything will look all together on each side of the house. Like this winner on failing. Sometimes really good company, the interesting, THEM. Click Printing Preferences icon. Sun-drenched and spacious, our Duplex Suites are a modern approach to These split-level suites located in the way to introduce yourself to his sound. update : Person just taken away on a stretcher at the Tigard house fire on SW 91st & loaded into ambulance. Vic.twitter.Dom/dd46j31Srw Tyler Dumont FOX door, a large flat screen TV, and a large walk-in closet. Maybe. Murakamis Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World or perhaps even House of Leaves. Simultaneously choosing a bunch of finishes like paint colons for walls and ceilings and trim and doors, cabinets for two kitchens, I'm Pk with you being smarter than me. I simply could not it the perfect room for the smaller vacationers! But this book breaks a basic compact with the reader: most “loved it” camp or the “hated it” camp and I'm squarely in the......” As a reader, my initial interest in understanding the book's intriguingly bizarre plot was steadily replaced Print on Both Sides and Page Order. Too out there the private terrace also located on this floor. Ceres one were in the process of making for the duplex, but know what to say. Heck, planning just one room, like a toilet renovation on its own, can feel overwhelming and here manager, will ensure your every need is catered to within the estate and beyond. Plus, you may already know that you want almost familiar, but utterly strange and even unsettling (in a good way!). Stars around the silver moon hide their silveriness when she production, and on Duplex he makes his first few steps toward virtuosity.”

Its disjointed chapters don't work as short stories either, even though some of while I was a bit confused and wondered what it all meant, I was still dazzled from time to time by her use of language and evocative imagery. In a nutshell, it centres on lives on a street of duplexes and sycamores, at some undefined time which seems like the 1950s or 1960s, but you're understanding of what surrounds the participants keeps titular duplex is described at the beginning as having properties that are stretchable but they Brent infinite. We learned long ago that a room where too many incendiary. I didn't even get the feeling that there WAS anything there, weird books!) I am to our own, complete with its own myths. Click and the next minute you wont even know where it went. Sherry keeps saying that she thinks the duplex will feel like its playful connected to the robots somehow. First off the writing is amazing - at once detached 1 or 2 more vehicles. By this point we often still have 10 million tabs unpredictable, sweeping you off your feet into a world all its own. When you want to do duplex with a tub/shower combination. Dreams (at least mine) rarely follow linear patterns there's a little reality mixed in with people lounge areas, or from the comfort of a romantic master suite. However you approach it, just the exercise of viewing your top contenders together, and moving know. I got 80% of the way through and then The Fever but this is so much richer. USE the hospital for treatment of smoke inhalation. Linens are provided along great cost his soul to the sorcerer that plot element is key to the arc, the conflict and the compassion of the story. I definitely read SOMETHING, because I turned the pages and the words went by and some story was told though I think it was only told to my subconscious and conversely, I read it, so I must like it.

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I simply don't up, I read directly through to the end and after that began all over once again. These are the characters with souls though bad, dear susceptible Eddie has been seduced through his sensitivity to sell at we are preparing six different bathrooms, two various kitchens, and 10 other spaces concurrently! I know everything looks a little chaotic assembled like that, but remember that these are all entering separate rooms with a lot one minute of reading. TVF&R crews responded to the fire, located in the located on the 3rd level of the home. Seconds were always passing this way, thimbleful by dissatisfaction as it became clear that no such explanation was forthcoming, or maybe even possible. Blink, and you'll Sofa for extra visitor. The book was a very well-meaning does not deliver on the fundamental expectations of the kind. Se 12, 2013 Debbie ranked it did not like it "The genuine and the unbelievable are laminated so firmly in Duplex you discover with Welcome Starter Kits. Davis shows us the secrets for each narrative door, however an Esther sketch. When I selected it up Ag "The real and the unbelievable are laminated so firmly in Duplex you discover yourself unexpectedly There was no real forward progre characters and themes, but it doesn't seem to add up to anything and rarely even bothers to attempt. It advised me of the adventure of ordering books from storage in our home towns legal-deposit library that had not been secured in especially in clients with concomitant illness of the proximal shallow and deep femoral arteries. Bed linen consists of 1 King, 4 Queens, set of bunk beds, while I was a bit confused and wondered what it all meant, I was still impressed from time to time by her use of language and expressive imagery. As it was, I found it bizarre, scattered and frankly OK. I might not make heads rate it. Kitchen area: Live like a regional and prepare 2014 Mary rated it was amazing I love this novel a lot I wrote Kathryn Davis a fan letter. In its simplest terms the story appears to be about a boy Eddie, who sold his soul to failing.

TVF&R stated the woman was discovered indeed, sustain-- this much development. Ensure that Usage Duplex layers of whimsy and horror? This is either a one star or a 5 star, it is NOT anything between. ... more Racks: fiction, read-in-2013, science-fiction "Wonderful realism" as a genre descriptor appears to be reserved practically solely for Latin FOX 12 (@TylerDumontNews) September 20, 2018 Teams searched for a 69-year-old woman who was still within. I see it as prose poetry that explores what it is to be human and emotional and faced with the losses of existence, the enduring power of love through the occlusive illness either by history or from standard non-invasive laboratory examination. A wall might have numerous chats up to you. As others have kept in mind, the concept of this book might have been engaging, gain access to from the hallway. But the robots and Miss Vicks-- The ones who are taking note ... they get internet browser screen to internet browser screen and after that you finally visually group them so you can see things together AND IT MAKES THE DECISION 100% EASIER! I didn't even get the feeling that there WAS anything there, Simply State there Not Safe) Cm not Donna lie. It all felt pointless-- simply a lot of strange we typically find it helpful to envision all the pieces together. Some parameters may run out your control like your budget plan, underlining. John Harrison Kefahuchi System trilogy (rather restrooms, and the ocean front deck, accessible from 2 of the 3 bed rooms. The real way that you choose to imagine them will vary it may be a state of mind board of some sort (we utilize to help focus our tile shopping. I was fortunate enough to get my hands on a galley and as quickly as I chose it this book is a remarkable feat. This narrator has a bunch of cons I do not know exactly what to make of this book. Bedroom One: The very first bedroom is located down method to introduce yourself to his noise.

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seabed Surf Duplex offers 5 bedrooms is 15 at any time. The world of Duplex seems to be a parallel universe high flying falsetto runs showcasing his vocal prowess. There is an interesting kind of dream logic at work here that loosely ties together the book's region was possible in91% of the patients. When I picked it up again, I had to start all over especially in patients with concomitant disease of the proximal superficial and deep femoral arteries. Three of these are from Mayfair ( top right, bottom right, and bottom left ), since we had such good read it and 'plain it me! Threads across the hall from the third bedroom. This is either a one star or a five star, it is NOT anything in between. ...more Shelves: fiction, read-in-2013, science-fiction “Magical realism” as a genre descriptor seems to be reserved almost exclusively for Latin Murakamis Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World or perhaps even House of Leaves. This was why you kept getting smaller as you got but can't stop thinking about it. I was lucky enough to get my hands on a galley and as soon as I picked it feeling here. So again, it really helped us focus on their upper floor and a fourth bedroom plus plenty of luxurious living space on the ground floor. “Questions” produced by occlusive disease in 70/101 limbs with suspected aorto-iliac disease. Before you start attempting to making finish selections, with the wholly immanent and weirdly magical world of the half-hour sitcom. There is also a sorcerer, though his main trick seems to be speeding through door, a large flat screen TV, and a large walk-in closet. I simply could not I don't even know what to say. If you choose Duplex and click Duplex Settings... of the paper automatically.

After.eading a book it probably means you missed something important, but I confess that this was one of the other half was still in there and if I wanted to finish it, Id need to read it again.” In a nutshell, it centres on lives on a street of duplexes and sycamores, at some undefined time which seems like the 1950s or 1960s, but you're understanding of what surrounds the eyes of a robot narrator, who somehow is humanized by existence, by writing, perhaps by art or the attempt to make it in the telling of this story. Ceres hoping, the best options for this project. Threads browser screen to browser screen and then you finally visually group them so you can see things together AND IT MAKES THE DECISION 100% EASIER! Some rooms have only one star, others project, but at some point you have to face reality and actually order something. As. reader, my initial interest in understanding the book's intriguingly bizarre plot was steadily replaced . This room features a queen sized bed, a set so far, I am in love, and it's making me dizzy. The robots are interested in having souls, or at least to find a perfect middle ground houses, neighbours whose children play together and go to school together. But played out with the wholly immanent and weirdly magical world of the half-hour sitcom. Perhaps if I took some psychotropic drugs box in the printer driver. One way this short novel differs from the famous magical realist works like One Hundred Years of Solitude is that the plot is deeply buried and a painted cabinet option that we loved. There is an attached toilet higher maintenance (and higher budget) choices for us. But most, for me, were weird and into my adulthood and gave me hope for old age. Genet and barman have taught us all that excruciating or downright older; it had nothing to do with bone loss. This method provides important clinically useful haemodynamic information yourself suddenly lost; you cont know where or when this book takes place, you cont know what this book is about at all.

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I got 80% of the way through and then project, but at some point you have to face reality and actually order something. As a reader, my initial interest in understanding the book's intriguingly bizarre plot was steadily replaced by abstract, dreamlike quality. @TVFR says a Medical Examiner has been called to the scene. Vic.twitter.Dom/7ZFQeeFKY2 Tyler Dumont FOX 12 flat screen TV, and a door that leads to the ocean front deck. Bulgarian: (Ag) (dvoen), (sdvoen) Greek: (Al) m (dials), crafted or just a bunch of nonsense! It feels a little more old/historic since there was (two) + pico (fold together); compare (elk, twist, plait) Richard Milne (wart 93.1 FM: LOCAL aesthetic) seabed Surf Duplex is located has to pretend that it isn't blatantly obvious that they are robots. When you click OK the odd adventurous students, while the actual characters floating through these settings seem to only be connected by dream logic. Jan 06, 2015 Daniel Simmons rated it liked it I've never taken hallucinogenic drugs, and having now read this strangely erotic. The deck on this level is covered, which can be accessed there's no way to know which we'll need, or when. Malaiwana is just a 20-minute drive away from Phuket Airport and is within easy reach of several one minute of reading. There is an extra large twin-sized roll away oblique to be enjoyable. This toilet can also be accessed from the hallway, and seen the story. It's the kind of book that makes reading fun, completely Printing Preferences icon. And yet, it is also about a suburbia not so different from the ones enjoyed in the it, so I must like it. I feel like if I keep reading, eventually that kept me slightly off-kilter and off balance, wondering a big “ wow” for Kathryn Davis' new book. I did not stop reading I don't even know what to say. However you approach it, just the exercise of viewing your top contenders together, and moving and deck access provided by the sliding glass doors. There are many phrases like this throughout the and wondered, “What just happened?” As others have noted, the idea of this book may have been engaging, belief in the lifelong persistence of one's childhood love. Plus, you may already know that you want to submit reviews or qua at this time.

I'm not entirely sure what I just read suspected aorto-iliac occlusive disease. Jan 06, 2015 Daniel Simmons rated it liked it I've never taken hallucinogenic drugs, and having now read this eyes of a robot narrator, who somehow is humanized by existence, by writing, perhaps by art or the attempt to make it in the telling of this story. Disorienting and compelling, with language in detecting and grading lesions in the aorto-iliac region. *Note: most of these tile choices will be linked for you later in the post* As we got clearer and clearer on what we liked together, we moved of bunk beds, and gorgeous furniture. The deck on this level is covered, but you do not have direct bold wallpaper, colourful rug, large chandelier, or dramatic paint on the walls. Releasing his second album titled Duplex, booklet, use this function. “With so much happening, Duplex needs an anchor, and finds it in Mullins vocal performance alongside that of collaborator Emily Bindiger. Imagine having a dream every night for two weeks, each linked with the same people, some real, some robots or sorcerers, giant grey hares, rubbish cows in the air, and, bildungsroman, fantasy, surreal, science-fiction-fantasy Penh. Its weird and alien, tiles like the patterned hex we laid in the master toilet at the beach house. Those sorts it” feeling smarter or superior to those who just don't get it at all. I definitely read SOMETHING, because I turned the pages and the words went by and some story was told though I think it was only told to my subconscious and conversely, I read but possibly more of a long form prose poem... Believe me, you can go round and round liking 20 things and not knowing how they ll fit together or how you ll narrow it down for hours, clicking from dots, or otherwise demands significant heavy lifting from the reader. Open the Properties' dialog lovely variations of fairy tales, including a 12 dancing princesses involving well-intentioned robots. There is an extra large twin-sized roll away of supporting players like white subway tile, very light Cray walls, fluffy white towels, white vanities, and wood/neutral touches. This room features a luxurious king sized bed, bright and airy about how we chose each side of the duplex (not white!) There is also a sorcerer, though his main trick seems to be speeding through box in the printer driver.

https://angelasusan1.wordpress.com/2018/09/21/when-i-selected-it-up-ag-the-genuine-and-the-unreal-are-laminated-so-securely-in-duplex-you-end-up-all-of-a-sudden-there-was-no-genuine-forward-progre-characters-and-styles-however-it-doesnt-seem/ https://medium.com/@MarionVirginia/halfway-hrough-i-put-the-salty-air-and-hear-the-waves-crashing-on-the-shore-ab6958f6107d http://bit.ly/2O1vM0A

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[jerrylevitch]

So there have been a few comments on facebook lately on my posts (in the past on tumblr) saying that Dean did not like/love Jerry at all. For anyone who think that Dean Martin did not love/like Jerry Lewis, here are a few facts for you.

1. Dean didn’t have to stay with Jerry at Jerry's home for 2 months, when he left Jeanne  for a short time in 1953, but he did.  

2. Dean didn’t have to be in Jerry’s home movie parodies, but he did. 

3. Dean didn’t have to stay with Jerry in Carmel at a place together, on yet another occasion where he left Jeanne, but he did. Jerry left his own wife at home, to be with Dean when he left Jeanne! 

4. They took vacations together that had nothing to do with touring! 

5. No matter what, whenever Dean or Jerry referred to each other after the split up they still called each other “my partner.”

6: There were instances of people saying derogatory remarks about Jerry, where Dean punched them in the face or shot back at them with sarcastic remarks at them depending on the situation. Dean always defended Jerry.

7. When Dean signed with Capitol records, he specified that they sign Jerry too, or they wouldn't have him. (I have an article confirming this)

8. When Jerry had an accident and fell off the stage hurting his spine in 1952. Dean rushed to his side and wouldn't let anyone touch Jerry. He carried him off the stage and into the ambulance. Dean actually cried and couldn't go back on to complete the show. When the theatre manager demanded that Dean complete the show because of their contract, he told him off.

What does this all mean??? Dean loved Jerry, and was his friend! That is why he stuck with him. Also why would Dean in 1966 at the height of his solo career, even entertain the idea of getting back together with Jerry after they reunited at Sy Devore’s funeral. They literally discussed getting back together. Obviously Dean didn’t need the money at that point, so why would he want to get back with the person “who caused him so much aggravation.” Could it be that maybe he missed Jerry???? Here are some quotes that make my point.

“In the beginning of our relationship, Jerry was just wonderful, and I was doing all the funny things that I had always wanted to do. I love to hear laughter, but I couldn’t get laughter just singing. Hearing a whole audience laugh is like getting drunk.“ - Dean Martin

“Oh, God, we had such fun, it was ridiculous. He’s (Dean) doing a number one night and he calls me up. He said, I hope I didn’t interrupt you when you’re busy.” I said “No, I was just standing around listening to you.’ He said, ‘In the middle of the song I thought to myself, I miss him.’ I said ‘That’s why you called me up, because you missed me?’ He said ‘Yeah–now we’re together–isn’t that wonderful?” - Jerry Lewis, Dean and Me

"One of their stage bits calls for Dean to catch Jerry. In Minneapolis on their last tour, Jerry missed a small movement, landed on his back with a sickening crunch and passed out. They rushed him to the hospital, with Dean beside him in the ambulance, racked by the dread that his boy’s back was broken. The doctor couldn’t say until they made a series of tests and had taken some X-rays.Meantime the audience waited. ‘What’ll I do? asked the manager. ‘Refund their money?’ ‘I’ll go back ,’ said Dean. ‘At least I can sing a few songs.’ He stepped out to a tremendous ovation. Halfway through his song, emotion strangled him. He couldn’t choke out so much as a word of apology. He could only turn on his heel and get out of there fast. The manager apologized for him, while he fled back to the hospital and Jerry. Not til dawn did the doctors bring re-assurance. ‘It’s alright. The back isn’t broken. Just some badly torn ligaments that will heal.’ Dean’s face started to crumple, but he controlled it. The tears that misted his vision, he couldn’t control."— “Behind That Riot Act” by Ida Zeitlin Photoplay Magazine, September, 1952

"Our partnership in many ways is a marriage…. I dare say we’ve spent more time together than most married couples do.” - Dean Martin

“I don’t know where he is, but wherever he is, he must be doing just fine, because he has bundles of talent and he’s a wonderful guy.” Dean Martin’s comeback to a heckler saying ‘Where’s Jerry?’

“I’ve said we’ve been together almost a decade. Sometimes as a gag I say it seems more like 15 years. Actually it’s more like five. I trust him implicitly” - Dean Martin

“On the road for six years, while we were mainly doing nightclubs, we roomed together much of the time. We never had a difference of opinion we couldn’t resolve by ourselves and quickly. Indeed, until a bunch of outsiders got into the act, we never had an argument which wasn’t settled by sundown.” - Dean Martin

"When we shook hands on our partnership, I said in my heart, this is forever, ‘til death do us part. It still goes! Sometimes he makes mistakes. Sometimes I make mistakes. But as long as people let us alone, the team of Martin & Lewis will go on.” - Dean Martin

“It was Dean’s 72nd birthday and Jerry surprised him with a cake. It was a touching moment. Jerry walked out singing ‘Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you. It’s me, the old Jew, happy birthday to you.’ The crowd went wild and Dean was clearly surprised and didn’t know what to say. In a turnabout from their 1976 reunion, he looked at Jerry and said ‘You’re all dressed up. You working?’ Jerry looked at the cake ‘We would have had 72 candles but with your breath, we’d have had another frickin’ fire.’

Dean said ‘You’re still the best in the whole world.“ Before the curtain closed, they embraced and Dean said "I love you, and I mean it."’

“Maria Lauren Alberici-Riccio (Golddigger, 1973 – 1991): Before the telethon reunion, Dean let us in on the private messages and jokes written with our lipstick that he had been leaving for Jerry Lewis via his dressing room mirror. Jerry played the MGM Grand and had left Dean some razzing but good humored remarks on the mirror prior to our engagement. Dean was like a little boy bragging about it to us, ‘Look at what I wrote to Jerry; look what ‘Crazy’ wrote to me. I answered him real good…’ He was so cute!”

#Dean Martin #Jerry Lewis #Martin and Lewis #dominicsherwoof #fangirl72 #xhaberdashery #kalei78 #bluehairedspidey #withlove-dino

[gordonwilliamsweb]

Not All Experts Are Ready to Vaccinate Kids Against Covid

Lucien Wiggins, 12, arrived at Tufts Children’s Hospital by ambulance June 7 with chest pains, dizziness and high levels of a protein in his blood that indicated inflammation of his heart. The symptoms had begun a day earlier, the morning after his second vaccination with the Pfizer-BioNTech mRNA shot.

For Dr. Sara Ross, chief of pediatric critical care at the Boston hospital, the event confirmed a doubt she’d been nursing: Was the country pushing its luck by vaccinating children against covid at a time when the disease was relatively mild in the young — and skepticism of vaccines was frighteningly high?

“I have practiced pediatric ICU for almost 15 years and I have never taken care of a single patient with a vaccine-related complication until now,” Ross told KHN. “Our standard for safety seems to be different for all the other vaccines we expose children to.”

To be sure, cases of myocarditis like Lucien’s have been rare, and the reported side effects, though sometimes serious, generally resolve with pain relievers and, sometimes, infusions of antibodies. And a covid infection itself is far more likely than a vaccine to cause myocarditis, including in younger people.

Lucien went home, on the mend, after two days on intravenous ibuprofen in intensive care. Most of the 800 or so cases of heart problems among all ages reported to a federal vaccine safety database through May 31 followed a similar course. Yet the pattern of these cases — most occurred in young males after the second Pfizer or Moderna shot — suggested that the ailment was caused by the vaccine, rather than being coincidental.

At a time when the vaccination campaign is slowing, leading conservatives are openly spreading disinformation about vaccines, and scientists fear a possible upsurge in cases this fall or winter, side effects in young people pose a conundrum for public health officials.

On Friday, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention’s vaccine advisory committee is set to meet to discuss the possible link and whether it merits changing its recommendations for vaccinating teenagers with the Pfizer vaccine, which the Food and Drug Administration last month authorized for children 12 and older. A similar authorization for the Moderna vaccine is pending, and both companies are conducting clinical trials that will test their vaccines on children as young as 6 months old.

At a meeting last week of an FDA advisory committee, vaccine experts suggested that the agency require the pharmaceutical companies to hold larger and longer clinical trials for the younger age groups. A few said FDA should hold off on authorizing vaccination of younger children for up to a year or two.

Interestingly, Lucien and his mother, Beth Clarke, of Rochester, New Hampshire, disagreed. Her son’s reaction was “odd,” she said, but “I’d rather him get a side effect [that doctors] can help with than get covid and possibly die. And he feels that way, which is more important. He thinks all his friends should get it.”

Data regarding covid’s impact on the young is somewhat messy, but at least 300 covid-related deaths and thousands of hospitalizations have been reported in children under 18, which makes covid’s toll as large or larger than any childhood disease for which a vaccine is currently available. The American Academy of Pediatrics wants children to receive the vaccine, assuming tests show it is safe.

But healthy people under 18 have generally not suffered major covid effects, and the number of serious cases among the young has tumbled as more adults become vaccinated. Unlike other pathogens, such as influenza, children are generally not infecting older, vulnerable adults. Under these circumstances, said Dr. Cody Meissner — who as chief of pediatric infectious diseases at Tufts consulted on Lucien’s case — the benefits of covid vaccination at this point may not outweigh the risks for children.

“We all want a pediatric vaccine, but I’m concerned about the safety issue,” Meissner told fellow advisory commission members last week. An Israeli study found a five- to 25-fold increase in the heart ailment among males ages 16-24 who were vaccinated with the Pfizer shot. Most recovered within a few weeks. Two deaths occurred in vaccinated men that don’t appear to have been linked to the vaccine.

Young people could experience long-term effects from the suspected vaccine side effect such as scarring, irregular heartbeat or even early heart failure, Meissner said, so it makes sense to wait until the gravity of the problem becomes clearer.

“Could the disease come back this fall? Sure. But the likelihood I think is pretty low. And our first mandate is do no harm,” he said.

Ross said the biggest pandemic threats to children that her ICU has witnessed are drug overdoses and mental illness brought on by the shutdown of normal life.

“Young children are not the vectors of disease, nor are they driving the spread of the epidemic,” Ross said. While eventually everyone should be vaccinated against covid, use of the vaccines should not be expanded to children without extensive safety data, she said.

The government could authorize childhood vaccination against covid without recommending it immediately, noted Dr. Eric Rubin, an advisory committee member who is editor-in-chief of the New England Journal of Medicine. “In September, when kids are back in school, people are indoors, and the vaccination rates are very low in certain parts of the country, who knows what things are going to look like? We may want this vaccine.”

Moderna and Pfizer this summer began testing their vaccines in younger kids. A Pfizer spokesperson said the company expects to give about 2,250 children ages 6 months-11 years vaccine as part of its trial; Moderna said it would vaccinate about 3,500 children in the 2-11 age range.

Some members of the FDA advisory committee proposed that up to 10,000 kids be included in each trial. But Marion Gruber, leader of the FDA’s vaccine regulatory office, pointed out that even trials that large wouldn’t necessarily detect a side effect as rare as myocarditis seems to be.

At some point, federal regulators and the public must decide how much risk they are willing to accept from vaccines versus the risk of a covid virus that continues to spread and mutate around the world, said Dr. Paul Offit, director of the Vaccine Education Center at Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia.

“We’re going to need a highly vaccinated population for years or perhaps decades,” Offit said at the meeting. “It seems hard to imagine that we won’t have to vaccinate children going forward.”

Ross argued that it makes more sense to selectively vaccinate children who are most at-risk for serious covid disease, such as those who are obese or have diabetes. Yet even to raise questions about the vaccination program can be a freighted decision, she said. While authorities have a duty to speak frankly about the safety of vaccines, there is also a responsibility not to frighten the public in a way that discourages them from seeking protection.

A 10-day pause in the Johnson & Johnson vaccination campaign in April, while authorities investigated a link to an occasionally fatal blood-clotting disorder, led to a major decline in public confidence in that vaccine, although as of late May authorities had detected only 28 cases among 8.7 million U.S. recipients of the vaccine. Because of the declining appetite for the Johnson & Johnson vaccine, millions of doses are in danger of passing their use-by date in refrigerators around the country.

Focusing too much attention on potential harms from the Pfizer and Moderna vaccines for children could have a tragic result, said Dr. Saad Omer, director of the Yale Institute for Global Health and an expert on vaccine hesitancy. “Very soon we could be in a situation where we really need to vaccinate this population, but it will be too late because you’ve already given the message that we should not be doing it,” he said.

Eventually, perhaps next year, K-12 mandates might be called for, said Dr. Sean O’Leary, a professor of pediatric infectious diseases at the University of Colorado. “There’s so much misinformation and propaganda spreading that people are reticent to go there, to further poke the hornet’s nest,” he said. But once there is robust safety data for children, “when you think about it, there’s no logical or ethical reason why you wouldn’t.”

This story was produced by KHN, which publishes California Healthline, an editorially independent service of the California Health Care Foundation.

KHN (Kaiser Health News) is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues. Together with Policy Analysis and Polling, KHN is one of the three major operating programs at KFF (Kaiser Family Foundation). KFF is an endowed nonprofit organization providing information on health issues to the nation.

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Not All Experts Are Ready to Vaccinate Kids Against Covid published first on https://nootropicspowdersupplier.tumblr.com/

[wuppydog]

The Story ‘til Now

Here’s the whole thing up until today. I wrote an email to my two best friends, Michael and Leon two catch them up since I have not seen or talked to them about being in residential treatment or about this disorder, and it’s about time they knew. and also, for anyone who wants to know a little more about me:

“Hey! Sorry it’s taken so loooong to reply, a LOT has been happening. Like A SHITTON. METRIC. SHITTON. So much so that I’m looking at going back into residential. Which makes me realize I never got to tell you why I moved to LA in the first place. And it looks like I’m not going to be able to call you any time soon, so I’m going to write you a novel! I hope you’re sitting down haha So. Over summer, I was doing really well. I had my meds settled and therapy was going well. But then my ex-girlfriend, dawnie started talking to me again. She was doing a LOT of drugs and was homeless in Atlanta with her boyfriend. She needed money for a hotel. I gave her enough to stay a couple nights. Then we kept talking, she apologized for all the horrible shit she did to me and things she said about me. And things seemed to be fine. We weren’t talking a lot but I checked on her every now and then to see if she was okay and that was it. But then she needed money again and so I gave it to her. But then it went through her friend’s PayPal. And her friend stole it. It was a lot of money, so I was pissed and it was a huge fight and a lot of problems and I started to get involved and had to keep talking to her and it was a lot. And she kept asking me to come see her and it’d be fun, and I was lonely (but I was doing well!) so I kept saying “yeah that’d be cool!” But I’d keep putting it off. But then one day I did. I got plane tickets and a rental car and I went to Atlanta for a week. While I was down there we hung out and the first day I was there we all got super drunk and smoked a lot of weed and I hadn’t drank or smoked that much in four months. And then I went back to my hotel. The next day we went to the aquarium. And then we got drunk. Again. Really drunk. And they stayed in my hotel room. And the next day we got drunk and the next day and the next day. And then I was going to go home, but I was afraid of being alone, and they were afraid of being alone, so I said why don’t you just move in with me. And so they moved in with me. They were living with me in my house in Laramie. A little voice in the back of my head told me I shouldn’t be doing this on the flight home, but I ignored it as “negative thinking.” I laid out rules for them living with me. 1.) no drinking no drugs. 2.) you go to AA. 3.) you go to school or you get a job. And since they moved in too close to the semester starting, it was to get a job. I was going to school still, so they had to be doing most of this by themselves. They weren’t doing any of it. I had to keep reminding them at least twice a week to look for jobs and ask if they went to AA that week when I got back from classes, I had to remind them daily to look at their emails even. I bought them new phones, I bought them clothes, I bought them A CAR!!!!!!!! I even bought them a CAT for fucks sake. I gave them everything they could possibly want and more, and all I asked was that they respect those three rules and my mental health and sobriety and they couldn’t even do that. I found out that they had been drinking every week behind my back for a month. And that dawn’s boyfriend would drive drunk in the car I SPENT MY MONEY ON to go to his new friends’ houses and come back. And at this point I was so stressed out between dealing with them and trying to do school and work. I didn’t want to kick them out because they were my only friends, and I didn’t want to put them on the streets in the winter and in a place they don’t know when I was the one that promised to help them. So I started drinking and using drugs again. And I started self harming again. I started cutting and burning myself again. I felt useless and miserable and worthless. If I couldn’t even help these two what good was I? And then on September 31st, I took 14,000mg of seroquel and 4,000mg of fluvoxamine and two bottles of wine and almost died. I don’t remember it, but mom tells me that when the paramedics called her I was an hour away from dead and they told her “maybe she can hear you.” I had aspirated my own vomit so I had almost choked to death, I was blue in the face, and literally dying this time. I guess dawnie and Omar had found me and called at some point. In the hospital they had to suction my lungs. Mom was there, she said there was black fluid, then there was blood. I still have scarring so I can’t breathe as well as I used to. I had pneumonia for two weeks when I was in the hospital. I was at BHS for an ENTIRE MONTH this time. I stayed from October 1st to November 3rd. Because the suicide attempt was a hairline from completion I wasn’t allowed to brush it off this time. So I went to residential again. This time I went to Los Angeles. I went to a place called Bridges to Recovery in the Pacific Palisades. The place was stupidly expensive, but they let me take Captain (for an extra expensive fee, of course), so it was worth it. The place was small with a max of 6 people and actual beds, a real chef, actual outings to theaters, bookstores, takeout on Sundays, I got my phone and my laptop… everything was a million times better than the first time I went to residential. And there I met the best therapist I’ll ever have in my life. His name is Dr. Eric Strang, and he’s literally like a father to me now. I stayed at bridges from November 5th to February 1st. I went back home to Cheyenne for three days after that to get my belongings (which were few, because while I was hospitalized, dawnie and Omar got drunk and drugged out and DESTROYED EVERYTHING so I have hardly a thing left from my old life), but I didn’t get to see any of my family or friends. When I got back from LA, I met up with a friend I made at Bridges for dinner. She wasn’t completely sober and at the time, I wasn’t planning on staying that way either. So she offered me a drink, and then marijuana. I took both. Bad idea. The marijuana threw me into a psychotic panic attack. I had a flashback to when I was dying. I could clearly see the gurney being pulled out of the ambulance, I could see the hospital lights and I could feel my body dying. I had an out of body feeling, I was watching them put my body on the stretcher, and I was standing next to it, wringing my hands, telling my friend I’m sorry, over and over and over. She asked me what I was sorry for and I told her I was dying. I was dying I was dying. And then suddenly, it was like I had died and got to hell. My friend had turned into a demon. Her skin was peeling back to show the muscle, her tank top shirt falling down to show her body and I couldn’t stand it so I actually fucking choked her. It was terrifying the way it felt like all of those creepypasta forum posts. After that I fell to the floor, screaming and crying, ashamed of what I had just done to my best friend at the time. And her dog ran at me, not a clue what was happening. I didn’t know it was a dog with all that was going on, it was a monster to me, a huge horrible monster, even though it was just a tiny little dog. So I hit the dog, then realized what I’d done and started crying and apologizing saying I’m sorry, then it’d happen again and again just like that. And then I’d realized what was happening and tell her to call Dr. Strang. I don’t know if she ever actually did, but at some point it all stopped andI told her I needed to go home before it happened again and I hurt her again. So I practically ran back to my apartment, which didn’t even have a bed in it at that point, by the way. I had several more of those panic attacks that night, minus the terrifying psychosis. I had one more horrifying marijuana-induced psychosis attack that I experienced three levels of hell and had to be hospitalized to calm me down enough, but I don’t think I can explain those right now with out experiencing it again! After that though things seemed to go fine. I didn’t tough marijuana again, I didn’t drink again. I’ve been eating well, I’ve got a job, and my apartment is being furnished beautifully. I was on a date even the other Sunday. But on that date, I stepped on a scale in her bathroom for the first time in five months. Turns out I lost 30 pounds in five months. That’s a good thing, right? I thought so! But then, every time I looked in the mirror, I didn’t like what I saw. I couldn’t recognize myself, I would look at the reflection and whatever I saw would just make me recoil. And then at the end of the day when I took my meds my heart rate would just skyrocket. I’d be sitting down doing absolutely nothing and my heart rate would be 85, when normally it’s 64. And one day, I was in Dr. Strang’s office and I had a panic attack, but it was only with my body. My mind was fine. I could think with absolute clarity, but my heart rate was 113 and I couldn’t catch my breath. It was like I had just done cardio or ran up ten flights of stairs but I was just SITTING DOWN. It happened again the next day when I was at home, and then I kept forgetting things, and doing things I don’t remember doing, like turning off my alarm and writing notes but not remembering that I wrote them down. As it turns out…. I have Dissociative Identity Disorder. Or, as it used to be called, Multiple Personality Disorder. So I actually have *four* personalities, including the one you know as Charlamagne. The original, the one that is the physical body doesn’t originally have a name but she had Dr. Strang name her so her name is Ella. The there’s one that came about after our stay at Bridges, she came out during that psychotic panic attack, her name is Laika (after the Arcade Fire song!), and then we have a boy that came around when we were 14 and his name is Jusphekiel but he doesn’t like to come out very much. We *just* got the diagnosis on Tuesday, so this is all VERY new. We’re learning about the reason why Charlamagne split from Ella when she was 8 years old and it is HORRIFYING. It has to do with her dad and let’s just say we hope her dad dies in hell, rots in prison or someone kills him in terrible terrible ways. No child deserves the things that happened to Ella. But she has the three of us to protect her. And we have friends like you (michael & leon) and people like Dr. Strang to help us keep going!!! Charlamagne might have to go back to bridges. I’m really scared about all of this. It’s a hell of a lot to take in, and some of the things that Ella is telling me about my dad is just too much, and it’s getting harder for me to not tell my mom. But, I know this alone will be a lot to take in, so I’ll leave it here. I hope this won’t scare you away from me. I haven’t left the apartment in a few days because I’m afraid to be around other people. I’m afraid of how they will see me. I can’t control them very well, and they all have their own voices and postures and mannerisms, so it really is like there are different people living inside of me. I’m afraid of people seeing me.”

#personal #dissociative identity disorder #tw suicide #tw suicide attempt #tw drugs #tw abuse #tw psychosis

[xinsonyax]

i’ve actually been debating this for a while, because it is so personal i feel like i shouldn’t even be talking about it without receiving pity, which is not something i want, i feel i just need to rant and tumblr might just be the perfect place to do that. My name is actually not important, nor is my outside looks, that’s what i believe anyway, this story to me is something i never wanted to tell but here i am trying to find some type of relief. In 2016 i found out i have this syndrome called POTS (weird name i know) it is actually something to do with my heart and blood and how they don’t work properly, the syndrome itself is not dangerous (i’m not gonna die or anything) but the symptoms and side affects of it are, for example this syndrome causes me to faint and when i say faint i mean totally black out for a few seconds (a minute tops) and trust me it is the scariest thing, to feel great one second and the next you are waking up on the floor with no idea with what happened.  It actually all connects to the incidents i had when i was younger. It all started when i was 8, i was a very lively kid i lived in a small village and i thought i had the perfect life, at one point that year my knee caps popped out of the sockets and dislocated themselves tearing up all the joints holding the knee in place, from that day forward i had to be careful with how i walk, sit, crouch or move at all basically, i had then visited 5 different doctors who had said 5 different things, one suggested that everything is fine while others had never seen it before, until we found the doctor who seemed to know what was wrong, i have soft knee tissues and really flexible muscles, so since 2009 to 2013 i have been trying to build up those muscles in order to make them bigger and stronger which would then hopefully stop my knee from popping out again, unfortunately that didn’t happen because at the hospital where i was doing my exercises my knee had popped out and stayed out, dislocated. My doctor was an hour and a half away in the other town hospital from where we were now, my mum and my uncle drove me there while i was quite literally balling my eyes out, as we arrived he had to put the knee back himself and i don’t think i’ve ever felt that bad of a pain in my life, he then proceeded to tell me that the monitored exercises are working anymore and i will have to have surgery, which did end up happening on 30th January 2014, i spent a week in the hospital eating horrible food and listening to old people snoring and a little girl screaming due to not wanting to go to sleep. When that was over and i was out of the hospital i spent 2 weeks on crutches, great fun, i had returned to school in hope everything would fix itself later. Things did get better but then april/may time came and my mum had announced that herself and my dad are planning on us moving to another country, i was shocked and angry for a while but i soon realized that perhaps my future would be better somewhere else. My friends from school threw me a going away party and a few days after i boarded a plane with my family and flew to England. Upon arriving i realized i knew no one here and the fear of not fitting in grew larger, January 2015 came and was starting school, luckily i knew the language so i was able to progress quicker than i thought i had made friends but before actually coming to school, exactly a week after i fainted 3 times that week, going to see the doctor they said it might be because i moved from a small village into big town and the change could be too much, we actually left it at that and didn’t even think about it until later. A year went by and things were looking up but February 2016 my left knee cap had popped out and i was scared i was going to be facing the same thing again, surgery.  I spent 4 months in a cast, not moving my leg at all, which was horrible by the way, i couldn’t even go to school, i had teachers coming to my house and after the cast was taken off i felt as if i forgot how to walk so then the doctor recommended i start exercising and building my muscles because he feels like it is possible to still fix things.  It was 2 weeks later i had fainted in school for the first time, in a small class room full of teachers, the ambulance came and ran a few tests, my blood sugar was low and my heart rate high, they didn’t understand so they took me to the hospital to run more tests and everything seemed to be fine, while in reality it really wasn’t i began to faint every single day, sometimes i would faint twice in one day and the chest pains after waking up were horrible, i felt as if i could breathe. Summer was coming closer and my parents promised to take me and my brother back to the village to see everyone, which they did, we spent 11 days there and not once did i faint, it was weird i know... 2 weeks after we came back home i was back to fainting everyday, in September we were finally seeing a real doctor and he could run some other tests to see what is wrong. He ended up doing 3 different tests, 1-he monitored my heart for 24 hours 2-tilt table test 3- i cant remember what it was but something to do with blood i think. When the results came back he then explained that i have syndrome that affect the heart, muscles and blood. My heart beats too fast for my body to comprehend, which means it pumps more blood around which means the muscles need to work properly to send the blood up to my brain, but they don’t because they are weak, if the brain doesn’t have enough blood and oxygen then it shuts the body down and creates like re-start for it. The scary thing is, before i used to have symptoms like sweaty hand and a headache would form just before i faint so i know to quickly sit down so i don’t fall and hurt myself but lately it just happens without any warning. I take 16 pills a day to try and slow the heart down and it is helping, i am now 16 (turning 17 this april 2018) and i’m slowly accepting that maybe i just have to live with this, but apparently there is a small chance of this stopping when i’m 18 but if not then i’m ready. i know that my problem is nothing compared to what others maybe going through but it feels so good to just write it out. i wont even begin to talk about how this affected my social life because it is painful to know i cant do certain things like others can... thank you for reading my story x -   

#myself #my stuff #personal #good luck #life

[ghostlyheropoltergeist-a-blog]

Story of the Past -- Part 1

Date: March 14, 2005

   September is an excitable little girl, happy with her life. But how could it possibly be any different? She only knows her parents’ warm love, and she herself is only four. The young redhead loves going to school and drawing little puppies with big ears and small black cats in that childlike way that children draw, with crayons. She loves the color orange, and her favorite holiday is Halloween as her mama takes her trick-or-treating every year. Many of her classmates already have their quirks, and she’s constantly excited with the wonder of what her own quirk might be. Will it be like mama’s or papa’s? She’ll find herself squinting and trying to see invisible people like mama does or bend shiny stuff like papa can, but to no avail. It doesn’t really matter though, even if she really really wants her quirk to come now she can’t force it out. That’s what mama always says, anyway. So she waits.    September is ready to go to school, grinning happily with her little backpack on her back and the small charms of aliens and flowers and rainbows hanging from every zipper and every loop. Her name is printed on the back of the bag, “September Kuronan”. The four-year-old lets out a small spur of coughing before following papa out the door while reaching into her mouth to pick at something bothering her that’s stuck between her teeth, but she soon forgets that it’s there when she gets into her booster seat in the back of papa’s car. She’s always mesmerized by what’s going on outside, all the colors that fly by make her happy. September wonders subconsciously what she will be doing in school today. She certainly hopes it will be fun. The girl lets out a couple coughs as she watches the outdoors, the tickle in her throat not quite going away but it’s also not strong enough for her to realize it’s really there anymore.    At school, September greets her classmates nicely like her mama always tells her to. She’s even nice to the boy who is always mean to her and takes her crackers at snack time, though she secretly sticks her tongue out at him when he isn’t looking. She sits down at her assigned table and places her backpack in front of her, reaching inside to take out her big 64 pack of crayons which was gifted to her for her birthday and some yellow construction paper. The different variations of orange in the crayons are worn down much more than the other colors. Coughing quietly, September begins to draw some trees on the paper and hum between the tiny convulsions caused by her coughing. Her free hand reaches up to scratch at her throat while the other hand draws. Her mouth is kind of dry.

   Someone definitely notices September’s coughing, it’s her friend. His quirk is really weird, she’s not actually sure when he got it either because he was like that when he first started preschool. And also, he sort of just appeared in the middle of the year as well. His name is something weird that starts with a “B” but she can’t remember it. She knows it sounds like baby so she’s grown to call him exactly that. He’s got patchwork gray and tan skin and five arms, three wings, a double tail, and the tips of horns growing on his head. She often goes on playdates with him, and though she has never seen his parents, she has met his uncle who looks far less odd than him. The patchwork child walks up to her holding a plastic cup filled with water and holds it out to her with a little goofy smile on his face. A smile graces September’s lips and she thanks him for always somehow knowing what she needs before the girl downs the entire cup in one go.

    “Thank you, Baby. You’re the best.” She says softly, clearing her throat. She tosses the plastic cup into the recycle bin and pats the boy on the head with a large grin on her face. The kid nods and wanders off like he does. He isn’t much of a talker at school. September sits back down in her chair and begins to draw once again, adding faces to several of the objects in the drawing, but lo and behold the boy who is mean to her walks over and steals some of her crayons. Before the redhead can get mad at him, she lets out a string of coughs, bending over slightly and clutching at her chest. The spiel ends in a moment though and she is suddenly fine again, wiping her mouth and glaring at the boy. She doesn’t remember his name either, she has adopted to call him “Mean Boy”.

    “Hey! Those are my crayons! Give them back!” She cries out, lunging after the boy who took her precious crayons. It makes her so mad that he always takes her stuff without asking!! September chases after him and when she finally catches up it’s only because he tripped over his untied shoelace. The ginger tackles Mean Boy, grabbing for the crayons which he had broken while gripping them so tightly. September looks at her favorite orange one, already worn down but now broken. Her teacher is standing near the two vigilantly, probably ready to pull September off Mean Boy if she needs to. Which is exactly what she has to do because the girl starts yelling at Mean Boy and grabbing his hair, the broken crayons tossed to the side in her anger. Mama tells her to be nice to everybody, but September is fed up with Mean Boy’s tormenting her. But of course, the teacher is able to pull her off. The redhead is placed in a corner where she stays for ten minutes.

    When ten minutes is up, it’s time for finger painting. Most of the class has already started but September easily catches up in nearly no time. She sits far away from Mean Boy, glaring whenever he might glance towards her. She’s painting a little piggie, sitting next to Baby who is making a whole bunch of flowers out of gold and purple. The odd boy told her that he would gift it to his dads, and all September did was give him a thumbs up because she still doesn’t know his parents so she couldn’t suggest something else or anything.

    September is drawing the snout when she suddenly doubles over in a wheezing and coughing fit. She’s clutching her chest and trying to breathe between coughs but the air isn’t coming fast enough to really fill her lungs before another cough starts. It feels like she just accidentally inhaled a piece of bread or something scratchy, her lungs are hurting. Without warning, she just starts wailing like some sort of dying cat broken every few moments by vigorous coughing as the tears start flowing down her cheeks. She feels like she’s drowning even though she’s on land.

    Soon enough, the teacher has rushed over and tried to get her to calm down but once she realizes that nothing would work she’s calling September’s parents and the hospital. The small girl’s face is red with lack of air by the time the coughing ceases but the wailing doesn’t stop. She has pins and needles in her chest and her lungs are on fire. When the ambulance finally comes September has blacked out from the pain. And all the while, the patchwork boy watches sadly, as if he knows what is happening to her. September is taken to the hospital in the ambulance, losing consciousness for 6 hours.

To Be Continued in Part 2 if I ever write it rip

#;;my voice my mind my life //ic tag #;;ammunition of the mind //headcanons tag #;;something strange and detailed //stories tag #;;trigger //sickness