#whole day going to the ent doctor again

[running-in-the-dark]

also my ear(drum) is still fucked up and actually it's worse than yesterday. so that's also just so awesome

#I'm having such a good time :))) #I keep trying to pop it and it just HURTS #so bad #it's also very loud #so something is definitely not right but it has happened several times before and always went away on its own so I don't want to waste a #whole day going to the ent doctor again #I've got an appointment in two months I can wait that long #maybe it'll stop happening #but he'd just shrug and say oh well I don't know either 🤷 cause that's happened with everything regarding this stupid ear. #so. it's pointless anyway #but the pain is making me even more annoyed than I already am #it feels like I can't hear anything on that side. but it's actually just extremely muffled. #it's so so so annoying #personal

[luvrsux]

I saw your desperate cries for requests - thus I heed your call ;-;

Picture this: Law receives a heart plushie from reader, because he‘s tunnel visioning himself in work and/or Luffy‘s been pestering that aloof man yet again.

(remember those heart plushies from IKEA XD THAT plushie…maybe without those arms tho, they‘re wack)

Reader just wants to be considerate (practically yeets that plushed organ at him) and Law is as oblivious as ever, just overall confuddled/flustered xD

Hope you like that lil‘ idea? If it‘s too boring you can leave it out no prob :3

*may the writer‘s force be with you* xx

thank you for the request! \(◦´-`◦)/♡

“Heart Pillow”

word count: 2.4k

summary: after living with the dr. trafalgar, you noticed he’s just overwhelmed with work, and on a particular day, it took a toll on him. you took it upon yourself to purchase him a gift that’ll completely make him go love-struck

content: fluff, mentions of insomnia

It’s been ages since you and Law moved in together as roommates. Considering you two knew each other since diapers, it was bound to happen. You stayed at home working at a local cafe while Law rotted away in his office from his doctorates. Ever since he finally became a professional doctor and surgeon, you’ve never seen him drown in so much work and get little to no sleep. Even when he was a little scholar in medical school, he’d still have the decency to remember to eat and get a few sustainable hours. Now, you’d hear him just get ready for bed while you got up and bright early for work. You’d see him leave the bathroom after a shower and rub his eyes with tired hands, while you were already dressed for your shift. You’d constantly nag him every chance you’d get to make sure he’d get the proper sleep he needed.

“I’m fine, (F/N)-ya…”

He’d always say in a groggy tone. This man was quite stubborn and didn’t really heed any warning anyone told him. Despite all of that, his studies and hard work paid off extremely. He was known as the best surgeon in the hospital he groggily worked at—too bad he wasn’t much of a people person. You always wondered why Law chose an ambition that required him to converse with a plethora of people and he just replied with a shrug. He’d always come home tired and annoyed by his coworkers and his patients that day. You couldn’t lie, though, they were interesting stories.

You’ve lived under the roof of the doctor for ages, as said before. The more you were drawn closer to him, the more your feelings shifted from platonic to romantic. You knew that Law wasn’t swinging towards you that way with the way he was suffocating at work, but you’d notice that he’d get a little flustered and go blank-minded whenever you did something nice for him. It could be something as simple as preparing him a cooked meal, recipes gifted by the one and only Vinsmoke Sanji, to taking him out on a day to take a break. Law loved how considerate you were, and he wished he wasn’t so busy to continue the nice moments you’d share with him. Considering Law made more money than you, he’d make it up to you by buying small gifts here and there. His excuse would always be something along the lines of “I had money to spare…” like he was embarrassed to show that he truly wanted to gift you for your kindness. Law would sometimes also see you knocked out on the couch, completely drained from your shifts, and carry you to bed without you noticing. You’d definitely catch on in the morning, but he’d act as if nothing happened.

Now, you were humming a tune with a sweet smile while you cleaned the kitchen after you prepared yet another loving meal for the missing doctor. He had a much longer shift today and you knew he’d be hungry as well as tired. Despite it being daylight outdoors, Law had been away for a whole 24-hour shift at the hospital. You wanted to make him feel extra special by cooking his favorite meal.

Behind, you heard the door knob jiggle and twist before swinging open. You were pleased to already know who entered the comfort of your home and you didn’t hesitate to exit the kitchen to greet the raven boy. Upon looking at him, he immediately crashed his leather bag onto the ground and kicked off his shoes. He seemed to be more than relieved to arrive home and see you all cheery at his presence.

“How did your shift go this time?” You asked with a cheeky smile, already knowing the answer. He tore off his lab coat to reveal his short, black button-up and inked arms. Rather ironic for being a doctor.

“Never wanted to quit my job so badly in my life” The man grumbled and exhaled, finally relieved to decompress from his occupation. He reached to pick up his neglected bag.

“How so?” You let out a small giggle before disappearing into the kitchen to show the stressed Law a plate of his favorite rice balls, but he was already tunnel-visioning his work.

“That idiot Strawhat-ya decided to get admitted to the hospital after a fight and…” Law sighed in pure annoyance, you could sense it from the kitchen. “He can never not cause chaos… Of course, I had to do a procedure on him”

Law explained. This wasn’t the first time the guy explained his annoyance for the scruffy boy named Luffy, nicknamed Strawhat for his iconic headwear. Law paced around the room, explaining the ruckus Luffy caused at his job and constantly saying things like "He's so aggravating!" or "I can't believe him!"

“I have to finish a lot of paperwork, I’m so sorry I can’t have dinner yet” Law apologized, de-escalating his anger. Despite his sour attitude, he looked sincere knowing you had probably spent time on it. You frowned.

“You can’t just procrastinate a little? I made your favorite” You tried convincing. Law just rubbed the back his his neck.

“No, just wanna get this over with” You heard his voice slowly fade down the hallway that led to the office he constantly stays in.

“Leave whatever you made in the fridge! I’ll promise I’ll eat it!”

You just removed your hand from the plate of rice balls and let them sit in the fridge they previously stayed on. You weren’t heartbroken or saddened Law didn’t stay for dinner like he usually does, you were more so concerned. Law would typically spend a few moments with you to eat. You’d share small talk about each other's day and you could’ve sworn you’d be able to put a small smile on his face at the end of it. Without that, it made you think about what you could do to snap Law out of his stressful trance.

You sat on the couch on your phone for a few moments to think about it, but soon enough you had a bugging nerve to check in on Law. You’d never disturb him during his working hours but this time you decided to take an impulsive action. You swung open his shut tight door to reveal a dimly lit room, the only thing illuminating the entire room was a small lamp on his desk. Despite your intrusion, Law didn’t flinch or remove his busy eyes from his paperwork. He just sighed.

“What is it, (F/N)-ya?” He spoke in a monotone voice and just continued scribbling down on sheets of paper. It seemed to really annoy him and you assumed the paperwork involved the scruffy Strawhat.

“How’s your… work?” You asked awkwardly. Law combed his printed fingers through his noir locks and dropped his pen.

“Terrible. I just want to burn it all” Law hissed. You saw him flip through each and every one, getting more and more annoyed as the amount increased. “I should’ve transferred that idiot to a different hospital…”

“I see… When you’re finished, I was wondering if we could watch a movie. It’s been forever!” You giggled. Law tried not to carve a smile at your enthusiasm, but the sheer amount of work is the very thing to his decline.

“I can’t, I think I’m going to be at this for a while before you head to bed” Those words made you frown. You wish you could remove all the stress from him for his own sake as well as your own.

“Don’t kill yourself over this work, Law” You gave him a small smile. You eyed his chair and realized the seat looked increasingly uncomfortable. You raised an eyebrow.

“Does your back hurt at all?” You abruptly asked. Your random question finally had Law made eye contact with you, but his head was still tilted toward his desk.

“Whaddya' talking about?”

“Your chair looks uncomfortable as hell. It might as well be a torture chamber”

Law peered to his office chair which was just a regular wheeled chair with thin cushioning. It was a decent chair to relax on, but not to stay seated for hours on end like Law.

“It does its job, I guess. Besides, I take painkillers” He went right back to scribbling like his life depended on it. You grumbled.

“I’m starting to think you need a doctor” You teased before leaving the room. Before Law could scold you for your demeanor you quickly left the room. You giggled as soon as you heard Law scream on the other side of the room, saying; “What do you mean by that!?”

You stood behind the door for a few moments before you quickly decided on what you could do to make Law ease up just a bit.

・❥・

Law didn’t realize he had been so focused on working. He felt like it was just a few minutes ago when he heard you yell ‘Law, I’ll be right back’. Now, you just arrived back home and he heard the door swing open from his office. He flicked his wrist toward him to reveal he was working for over an hour on his watch. He grumbled, seeing as how he still wasn’t done despite the length it took him to do it.

He was pleased to hear you made it home safe, but he didn’t budge from his desk. He felt himself slowly carve a smile when he heard your faint humming and bag rustling from the kitchen which wasn’t far. Then, he faintly heard footsteps.

“(F/N)-ya, I’m still busy-“

His face was met with red and plush. He flinched, causing a minor hiccup from his pen, and dropped it. Law could hear your manic giggles as he pulled away the plush.

“What the-…” Law made eye contact with whatever was thrown straight at his face. He raised an eyebrow at the bright red heart pillow in his hands that also had… arms?

“(F/N), what the hell is this?” He asked, continuing to analyze its rather odd features. Despite it being rather questionable, it was rather soft.

“I thought I’d buy you something since your day was pretty rough… And your chair sucks” You proudly placed your hands on your hips. Law turned his eyes to you before flickering them back at the plush.

With those words, as confuddled as he was, he swore he couldn't stop himself from blushing. He quickly tilted his head revealing the fact yet another kind gesture made his heart skip a beat. Law felt like squeezing the thing until its plush popped right out.

“…What’s with the arms?” Law finally asked, questioning the entire plush and its odd choice of design.

“Ikea, sorry” You giggled. Your humorous giggle made Law carve an amused smile and you could clearly see it. It caused a small tint of blush to form on your cheeks. “Do you like it?”

Law gave it a tender squeeze with his palms before placing it on his bed, the hugging arms springing once it made contact. He cleared his throat to prevent any further flustered emotions from seeping through.

“It’s… nice,” He said ever so casually. He sat back down in his brick chair and wheeled into his desk. “Thank you, (F/N)-ya…”

You hummed, shutting the door behind you. As soon as Law heard the click of the door, he bolted to his bed to tightly hug the gifted organ to his chest. He buried his gushing smile behind it as well as his tinted cheeks. Despite the odd arms, he greatly appreciated your kindness to him. He was afraid he’d expose his feelings about you right there and then if you stayed any longer. As his eyes trailed along the brightly colored plush, he began to ponder. There was no point in being so implicit about his feelings. This gift was a transparent way of saying you care about him more than he thought you did. He regretted pushing you away constantly for his work. With that, with the plush in hand, he exited his office.

There you were, laid back on the couch with a relaxed expression. You hadn’t expected Law to come out of his office at all, especially with the new gift you gave him in his arms. His cheeks looked more pigmented than a sickly bedridden patient he’d dealt with. You sat up almost immediately and formed a smile.

“Finally out, huh?”

Law averted eye contact, still flustered and embarrassed. He just plopped down next to you, rather close at that. You raised an eyebrow, wondering what he was going here instead of his dark office.

“Shut up…” He grumbled. “Play that movie…”

Law said, getting comfortable under the blanket that was draped along the couch. You stared at him with wide eyes that refused to make eye contact with you. You beamed before you flicked on the movie you were excited to watch with the busy boy.

About halfway, Law noticed you were falling asleep while he was wide-eyed awake. He gulped, wanting to make a rather bold move to you. He saw you jerking your head every now and then from your low energy. Once he saw you scare yourself awake from almost falling face-first into the coffee table in front, Law pulled an arm around your shoulders to lay on his chest. Safe to say you were no longer tired thanks to your rapid heartbeat. You could faintly hear his own.

Meanwhile, Law was internally screaming in his head wondering why the hell he decided to do that bold of a move on you. Seeing as how you didn’t object or call him out on his odd behavior, his internal battle began to die down. The plush lingered right in between both of you, like a token of your newfound relationship.

“Get some rest, (F/N)-ya” You could’ve sworn you heard Law slightly stammer before he could formulate his sentence. You felt a palm caress your arm and head for a few moments. Your tiredness soon came flooding back.

Law had adjusted in his seat to get comfortable himself, knowing he’d soon follow you and your sleep. He’d never felt this tired before. He’d have trouble falling asleep due to his insane insomnia but with you in his arms, a wave of fatigue came flooding forward. Maybe it was your body's warmth. Maybe it was the way he could feel your calm breath on his chest from your peaceful slumber. Maybe it was because Law had passionate feelings for you. He couldn’t decide, considering he was now fast asleep on the couch with his arms now wrapped around you.

Law never slept better that night.

All listening and ownership belong to Eiichiro Oda

#fanfic #one piece #op x reader #x reader #law x reader #one piece x reader #trafalgar one piece #trafalgar law #law fanfic #one piece strawhats #mugiwara no luffy #black leg sanji

[cookinguptales]

in the continuing adventures of "body, please be normal" I've been dealing with pretty awful GI symptoms for the past month, and they have finally resolved themselves in a frankly bewildering fashion.

it feels gross to talk about, but I guess it was other people being gross and talking about their own symptoms that helped me figure out what was going wrong with me so like. maybe this will help someone else.

(cut for talk about medical issues, particularly gerd, endometriosis, and mcas)

Now... I've been dealing with pretty severe acid reflux for several years now. It seems to be attached to hormonal changes in the body because it flares up when I'm on any kind of hormonal medication (including birth control) or my period is approaching. It tends to manifest in ENT symptoms because the acid gets up into my sinuses and it's a whole fucking mess.

(Best guess is that it's related to the endometriosis and potential internal scarring, but the docs are REALLY hesitant to open me up to see the extent of the scarring because the EDS means that I heal poorly.)

Since I came off hormonal birth control, it hasn't been nearly as bad. I used to have to take fairly high doses of omeprazole at all times, but now it seems to be sufficient to take small doses of famotidine when it flares once a month.

That said! It's been flaring more often and worse since late last year, and I've been experiencing a particularly bad flare that's lasted for about a month now. Not to be too graphic, but I've had pretty severe burns in my mouth and pretty extensive oral bleeding. It's been... not fun!

(plus other GI issues, but they've been relatively mild compared to the... blood...)

I've been taking both omeprazole and famotidine, my usuals, but it's barely made a dent in it. I have been, safe to say, In Hell, but I wasn't able to get an appointment with a doctor until late May so I've just been kind of putting up with it.

Yesterday I really wanted to go to a street festival and I was like... okay, who knows if I'll be able to eat anything because even broth and oatmeal have been making me sick, but we'll give it a try. And I took some allergy medicine because it's spring and -- it went away. All my symptoms went away.

I AM... BEWILDERED... but yeah like I took the allergy meds and my symptoms went from 90% down to like... maybe 10%. Not perfect, but very bearable. And when I took my acid reflux meds, it actually got a little worse...?

So today I am off all reflux medications and on quite a bit of allegra and I feel almost fine. I am incredibly bewildered. All I can figure is that this time, as opposed to my regular flares, things were caused by some kind of allergic reaction...? I'm not sure to what, as I haven't really done anything differently lately, but I guess it could just be environmental.

I googled and Dr. Google says that acid reflux can be triggered by allergies, which has me back in the "wait, is MCAS a thing that's been ruining my life??" place. It's a diagnosis that my doctors have been toying with, but I've never worried about it too much compared to the others. But I guess the GI issues I've been experiencing aren't too unusual to MCAS, where your body has weird heightened allergic reactions to a lot of things, so like. orz

I guess I have been so allergic to the universe that my body was trying to literally eat itself.

I'm still going to go to the GI doc in a few weeks and see what they have to say but like. I guess I just keep mainlining allegra for now. It's a thing I'll have to be careful with (allergy meds give me eye problems, so I guess I'll be doing eye drops 10x a day again) but it's better than the life I've been living! :')

I guess I'm just happy that I've found some kind of solution but like. jesus christ. what the heck.

#on the upside I managed to actually eat food at the festival yesterday and I was thrilled lmao #cw: #chronic illness #mcas #gerd #endometriosis

[pttwice]

maybe a bit angsty but maybe like jeongyeon since shes older then the others feels a bit less important as a little with cg!hyo who has to take care of the maknae like too

heya anon! poor little!jeong :( just wants to be loved & held

special

|| little!jeongyeon, little!tzuyu cg!jihyo ||

Busy days with Tzuyu weren't out of the ordinary, and especially not when Jihyo had to get her to all her doctor appointments. The girls tried to keep their appointments contained to one day since it made it easier and took up less time.

The only issue with having them all in one day was the rare chance that they would be regressed during that day. Currently, Jihyo was trying to deal with a very fussy Tzu. She woke up very grumpy and took much longer than normal to eat which resulted in almost missing the first appointment at the dentist.

Jeongyeon was patient throughout the whole morning and quietly ate her breakfast while her mama waited on Tzu. She even helped her mama put all the dishes in the sink before she brushed her teeth and picked out her clothes to go with them for Tzu's appointments.

"Mama, look! Dere's a doggie on my shirt!" Jeongyeon excitedly pointed out the little beagle sewn on her sweater.

It unfortunately went unnoticed as Jihyo picked Tzu up and held Jeongyeon's hand to take them out to the car. "Okay, peanut. Now let's get in the car."

Jihyo buckled both littles in before getting in the car herself, starting the short drive to the dentist's office. In the backseat, Tzu was whining about how she didn't need to see the dentist. Meanwhile, Jeongyeon was silently looking out the window with a small pout on her face. Her mama didn't even look at her shirt.

//

The rest of the day, Jeongyeon tried her best to be patient, but her mama was only paying attention to Tzu.

"Mama, can we have mac and cheese for lunch when we get home?" Jeongyeon sat beside her mama in one of the waiting room chairs at the ENT's office, swinging her legs back and forth.

Jihyo was leaned forward in her chair, trying to keep Tzu entertained enough so she didn't have to keep trying to chase the little around the waiting room. She glanced up at Jeongyeon and gave her a small smile before shaking her head.

"Not today, Jeongie. It's Tzu's day today since we've got all her appointments so she's going to pick."

"Oh, okay, mama." Jeongyeon gave her mama a small nod. She looked down at her legs, continuing to swing them for a few minutes before she got up and sat on the floor beside Tzu. She tried to play with the youngest, but as soon as she touched one of the toys that Tzu was playing with, Tzu started to whine.

"I'm sorry, peanut. Why don't you color instead?" Jihyo kissed Jeongyeon's forehead gently before she pulled out a coloring book and a few crayons from her purse.

Jeongyeon took the coloring book and crayons from her mama and sat back down in her seat. She didn't want to color, but it was better than doing nothing.

When they went to the dermatologist, Jeongyeon busied herself with a little pad of paper and a crayon. She tried to show her mama a drawing she made, but as soon as she turned around, Jihyo was up again, walking Tzu back to the doctor's office.

Jeongyeon sat in the waiting room by herself, her pad of paper and crayon held limply in her hand. She looked down at the drawing and frowned, a few tears pooling in the corners of her eyes. She knew that it was a Tzu day since she had all these appointments, but her mama could at least look at her drawing and her shirt. She didn't even have to say anything more than, "that's cool", or "good job, peanut". Instead, Jeongyeon got an empty waiting room.

Once Jihyo buckled the littles in the back, she noticed Jeongyeon had gotten significantly quieter than when they started the day. She made a mental note to ask her about it once they got home and drove back to her apartment.

When Jihyo parked the car and tried to help Jeongyeon get out, the little hopped out by herself and walked up the stairs into the apartment building. Jihyo let out a long sigh and got Tzu out of the car. She walked into her apartment and set Tzu down who quickly ran over to the small pile of toys on the floor.

Jihyo took her jacket off and hung it up in her closet before she walked into the living room. Her bedroom door was closed so she assumed that Jeongyeon was in there.

Jihyo reached down for the remote to turn the TV on for Tzu when she saw a little pad of paper and a green crayon. She put on Paw Patrol for Tzu and turned the volume down before she set the remote down and picked the little pad of paper up.

The original picture was angrily scribbled over, but from what Jihyo could see through the scribbles was a drawing of her and Jeongyeon holding hands. Her heart broke at the thought of her baby being so upset with her that she scribbled through a drawing of them.

Jihyo made sure Tzu was occupied with her toys and Paw Patrol before she walked over to her bedroom door. She knocked on the door a few times before she opened it. The sight of Jeongyeon sadly playing with one of her dinosaurs by herself made Jihyo's heart ache even more.

"Hey, peanut. What's going on?" Jihyo gently sat down on her bed beside Jeongyeon who immediately crossed her arms and frowned.

"Nothin'."

Jihyo let out a small sigh before she carefully turned Jeongyeon towards her. "I can tell it's not nothing, bub."

As soon as Jihyo called her 'bub', Jeongyeon's resolve faded. She uncrossed her arms as her bottom lip started to tremble. She crawled into her mama's lap and tucked herself into her mama's arms as close as she could.

" 'm not 'portant 'cause too big 'nd old." Jeongyeon mumbled as she ran her fingers along the fabric of Jihyo's jeans, a few tears slowly trickling down her cheeks.

"You are very important, peanut. What makes you think that?" Jihyo frowned and wrapped her arms a little tighter around her baby, gently rocking them back and forth.

"Mama din't even look at Jeongie shirt 'nd not look at Jeongie drawin'." Jeongyeon sniffled and turned her head to bury her face into Jihyo's shirt, her tears now freely flowing.

Jihyo thought for a second before it dawned on her. She let out a small 'oh' in realization as she rubbed her baby's back. "Did you try to show me your shirt this morning, but I was too busy trying to get you guys to Tzu's first appointment this morning?"

Jeongyeon silently nodded and balled her fists into Jihyo's shirt.

"I'm so sorry I made you feel unimportant, bub. But I promise you are so important to me. And you're absolutely not too old or big." Jihyo pressed a soft kiss to the crown of her baby's head. She carefully peeled Jeongyeon off of her and wiped her tears with the sleeve of her shirt.

"Jeongie 'portant?"

"Absolutely, peanut. Jeongie is so important, and mama loves you so much."

Jeongyeon sniffled a little and wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands. She hugged her mama tight before she looked up at her again with a small smile.

"Now, how about for lunch mama makes you an extra special little dish of mac and cheese?"

#twice agere #twice fanfic #twice fic #little!jeongyeon #caregiver!jihyo #sfw #sfw interaction only #sfw agere

[weerd1]

ENT Rewatch Starlog, 11 February, 2024: Episode 3.10 “Similitude”

We open with what appears to be the funeral of Commander Tucker before flashing back to two weeks prior. Trip and T’Pol are engaging in a neuropressure session while Trip discusses what he thinks can be a way to get Enterprise to maintain high warp factors longer. They put the plan to the test, but it results in Trip in a coma from the explosion and the NX-01 stranded in a cloud of magnetic dust that is slowly coating the ship and will eventually damage her beyond repair.

Phlox reveals he has an animal in his menagerie that he usually just takes enzymes from, but if injected with DNA, could result in a rapidly aging clone. Phlox proposes using this method to crate a copy of Trip, which in a few days would mature to the point of being able to harvest brain matter to repair the original. The clone meanwhile would age out comfortably in about two weeks.

Archer is reluctant but agrees as the Enterprise’s situation becomes more dire. Soon Phlox is raising an infant mimetic simbiot, which he dubs “Sim.” As the child rapidly grows, it becomes clear that he has Tucker’s memories, requiring Archer to explain to the pre-adolescent version who he really is and his purpose.

As they crew races to figure out how to free Enterprise, Sim joins in. He also reveals to T’Pol that he has feelings for her, but he is unsure if they are his own or belong to Trip.

He does devise a way to tow Enterprise out of the cloud. Phlox meanwhile discovers that Sim will NOT survive the procedure to save Tucker. Sim begins to suggest there may be research that would prevent his rapid aging, and that perhaps it would be worth trying to save his life as he is good NOW, and would simply continue on AS Commander Tucker. Phlox argues that there is very little chance it would work, and Archer makes it clear he will do anything to save Trip. Sim seems to acquiesce, but then tries to steal a shuttle. He stops before taking off though telling Archer he really has no where to go, and knows he will be gone soon either way. At least if he helps Trip something good can come from it all. 

As he prepared to report to sickbay, T’Pol stops him, kissing him tenderly.  He then goes to his fate. We return to the funeral to see Sim in the coffin, and Trip present at the funeral. Archer notes how Sim’s sacrifice may indeed help save everyone on Earth before committing Sim’s body to space.

Holy Shades of Tuvix, Batman. Rewatching this episode made me deeply uncomfortable, though the performances here are top notch. I admit I have a hard time buying that Phlox’s ethics would allow him to even suggest this course of action. Also, it seems a bit of a story stretch to say it would somehow be easier to make a WHOLE OTHER TUCKER than just clone some brain matter in some way, but I will give them credit that they wave the technobabble wand at the problem, and Phlox does legitimately believe Sim will live out his own complete, albeit short, lifespan regardless of the procedure. Why the doctor thinks borrowing enough brain to fix damage that made Trip comatose wouldn’t have an affect on Sim is also something it’s hard to suspend disbelief on for me, but here we are. 

The developments for the T’Pol/Trip relationship are interesting here, and will certainly be referenced in future episodes.  Morally though, I’m not sure where this episode leaves me with Phlox and Archer, and that certainly calls back to the moral conundrum Janeway faces in “Tuvix.” In that situation though, it is an accident that presents the situation; here these two CHOOSE to go forward with making an entire lifeform that will be sacrificed to save a crew member. I’m not sure that’s the choice I would go with. 

Next Voyage: The turn of the 20th to 21st Century proves to again be pivotal to history as the crew ends up in 2004 on “Carpenter Street.”

(Images taken from the main website for @trekcore; I am happy to remove the images if asked.)

#star trek #star trek enterprise #enterprise rewatch #Enterprise season 3 #similitude #Xindi saga #enterprise

[ministerpeacefulpoetwordwitch]

Emergency VA - Bad

If you have VA benefits and you need help at night, avoid VA emergency - pay the extra money or hold off until morning if you can, that place is awful.

We got there at some time after 10 pm and didn't leave until after 6 am. After waiting over an hour they took me to a room, took my vitals. Just got a nose Septoplasty and the bleeding wouldn't stop and the doctor, real proud of his title, asked if we had pictures - pictures of what, bloody bandages? He had to call an ENT, he didn't know what to do? We would never see them again. We would have to get someone to see what was going on. That whole time, I wasn't even offered a glass of water and I'm supposed to drink 8 glasses a day. I was expected to change my own bandage which I was trying to do when the ENT finally walked in.

She was young. She looked like she was right out of college. The youngest person there and she had more balls than any of them. She just got right to it. Cleaning up the mess and plugging up my nose, it hurt like hell. I couldn't breath out of my nose after she was done. I don't know if she did the right thing or not, but she did something. Didn't ask no questions, she just did it. Talked to me the whole time, wanted to know about my military service and gave me directions to take care of my nose. She introduced herself but I can't remember names - part of my disability - she was awesome. Keep being her. Do what you think is right, just do it and that's what she did.

She might have messed up my nose though, I don't know, Having trouble sleeping, I can now breath a little bit through one side of it. She told me that normally I would be sent home but I had a special case. I can't remember what she called it. My nose was broke pretty bad. My Septum which is supposed to be straight was turned completely sideways. Just found out about it about 10 years ago, didn't figure I had the money to fix it, now I have VA benefits, they'll fix it for free. They all want to know, how did that happen? I don't know. My head has been banged up so many times. That's why I now have this disability for unknown neurological disorder due to head injury. It could take more than one operation to fix it right. But the VA is taking care of me, I'm lucky.

Just don't go there at night, that place ain't right. My poor wife - she has medical problems of her own, all she could find was a bag of potato chips and a drinking fountain for water and chairs to sit in and no place to lie down. She was pretty sore afterwards. Because she can't drive at night, her daughter took the time to take us there and pick us up. So this was a real mess. If you have to go to VA emergency at night, pay the extra money and go to regular emergency.

[missvinaelaine]

1/4th of century

last month, my ENT told me that I have to go through another surgery for my ears (tympanomastoidectomy)- my first surgery happened in the middle of 2014 right before I go to college.

in my birthday month, I did it. while I was on the hospital bed, I felt like I wanted to turn back and not push trough - but then I was reminded by nanay how difficult it was to get a private room at PGH, how expensive it was to get a CT scan and clearance, and all the courage I had for saying yes to a surgery again. I remembered I said to them, how would it feel to celebrate my birthday at the hospital. though my surgery happened last august 5 and was discharged last august 7, I came back to the hospital for follow-up check up on the day of my birthday. only to find out, doc was not even there. he's doing surgery at a different hospital and it was somehow my fault since I didn't message his secretary.

my recovery was fast, it's not been a week and I'm cleaning my room. I'm doing things on my own. I think because I was really taken care of. tita nhi joined nanay to look after me at the hospital; when I got home, lola took care of me. cooking all my requests, letting me drink coke because nanay won't let me, and just simply being there for me.

on my birthday, I gifted myself with a tablet. I felt a little guilt because I just had a major expense yet I still bought something - I just tell myself it's for work. and 10 days after surgery, I went back to work. and oh, my word! it was stressful as fuck. apparently, workmates are not doing their jobs good and it caused the whole team to suffer and be on the edge with the doctor again. I'd like not to dwell on that because I have someone to let it all out.

2 days ago - I went to the hospital for nanay's follow up to her orthopedics. I must say it was the saddest day of my month. I hope everything will be okay.

lately, I have been feeling so low. depression and anxiety combo-ed me and consumed me. it's hard to sleep, and I have been stress eating a lot to the point that literally - my clothes won't fit anymore. I have so much in my mind that all I can think of is nothing.

so, I'd like to ask...

what's next for me?

[neonstahli]

A whole new story;

Hey, I'm Blake. You guys have seen me struggle for months during 2020, unfortunately. I may have some answers as to why, and it also unfortunately begs me to ask for a lot of help, again.

During all of this money troubles, trying to get my job back, and just trying to live, I've been going to the doctors insuranceless. I've been told I "very likely" have something called Ménière’s disease, which is not only a rare disease to have but a degenerative one. I am losing my hearing completely, and it has been accompanied by immense dizzy spells and the inability to eat. I've lost OVER 40 pounds since November because I haven't been able to eat well because of my dizzy spells, and now I see it's possibly been because of a potential disease I never knew I had. 2020 has been a hell of a year, huh.

If I may ask, I'd like to try to get 134 for my storage bill, and 600 for my meds and future copays for my ENT and Ophthalmologist appointments, which are soon. I know it's a lot to ask, but I want to get a grip on this before it can get worse. Anything helps, and everything will help me now. I never ask for help for myself, and now I know I need it most. If anyone, ANYONE can spare even a penny, I'd be beyond words.

I didn't want to come forward and mention this. It doesn't sound like much of a disease in retrospect, but it has plagued me for 8 years. I never had solid answers, and now that I do, it's possibly too late. All I can do is go see doctors, get tests, take medication to help the spinning and constant nausea so I can make it through the day. And the potential of surgery is high on their list, which makes me really scared. But I have a chance at a better life, and I just need some help to get there until I can get health insurance through Ohio approved, which I am waiting on currently.

I want to make myself better, and I truly need your help more than ever. Thank you all to bits, I love you all to death for what you've done for me, for us. Now it is my turn to try to make myself right. Please.

If anyone would like any extra info, has any questions, anything at all, please feel free to ask. I'm still gathering up info and proof and whatnot myself; this is app a very new diagnosis and it's humbling. Sobering, even. I've pushed this too long and now it's irreversible. But at least I have a chance to try.

Edit: I'm dumb and forgot to put this - paypal.me/zwhack, @neonstahli on venmo and $neonstahli on cashapp

#mythical beasts #gmm #good mythical morning #21p #twenty one pilots #im tagging my main fandoms that have people here in hopes of help tbh #says blake #signal boost #donation post

[unwelcomebraininvaders]

Background info

Unwelcome invaders of my brain

i decided to share this story for anyone who is interested for two reasons:

1. I believe in the power of prayer and/or intentional thoughts to heal. I could use all the prayers/intentions you can send my way starting Oct. 12.

2. It seems therapeutic at this point to write about this.

So here we go:

The first symptoms:

Back at the end of 2020 I had what I presumed was an upper respiratory infection and plugged right ear. Someone I work with had the same symptoms so I thought nothing of it. After this went on for a month or so I made an appointment with the ENT. They treated me with steroids and my symptoms did not go away. I went back and they tested my hearing. The Dr. ordered an MRI without telling me what he was suspicious of. I assumed some blockage in my ear.

The first MRI:

I go for this MRI. The next day I get an email the the results are posted in MyChart. I look at the results and they talk about two different kinds of tumors. I call my ENT and tell the front desk--"hey I'm kind of freaking out--my MRI report is posted to MyChart and it's talking about me having two different kinds of brain tumors--I don't have an appointment to see the ENT for another week. Can you get me in sooner?" The receptionist--"hmm...let me look....No sorry can't see you for a week" In my mind " @$!&*" Okay...it's up to me to look this up on Dr. Google and see what I'm dealing with. I google--Ok well at least they appear to both be benign--that's a relief. Can I just tell you the panic of not even knowing if they were cancerous or benign and having no Dr. appt for a whole week!

The ENT Visit a week later

Him: "It turns out you have an Acoustic Neuroma which is a benign brain tumor...blah blah blah "

Me in my mind: "No shit -- you are now proceeding to tell me everything I just spent the last week researching online" "Do you actually think I didn't look at the MRI report the day it was posted to MyChart"

Now what

So I spend the next several weeks researching whether to have radiation to try to kill the tumor or surgery to remove the tumor. I talk with two doctors who do radiation and three doctors who do surgery. The two who do radiation think I'm a good candidate for radiation. Two of the surgeons think I should do surgery. The third surgeon thinks I can go either way. Great! A tie!! So helpful....not! People in my personal life advocate for radiation since it's less invasive--so that becomes the tie breaker.

Radiation

I take the week off work and have radiation. It's every day for 5 days. I feel tired during that week and the following week...but then it's pretty much back to normal. Other than the hearing loss...I feel like my normal self again! Yay! This was too easy. (yes it was too easy)

3 months later

Wow I have an earache on my radiated side and feel like maybe I have a sinus infection. Go to the PA at the ENT's office....she gives me a CT scan and prescribes an antibiotic for my "infection" and steroid for my "swelling" A few days later...the pain is now stabbing in my ear and radiating down to my jaw and the right side of my neck. Hmmm...that doesn't seem normal. ENT's office is closed...talk to the ENT on call...he looks at my CT scan..."you don't have an infection" (great! so I've been taking antibiotics for nothing) Just continue taking the steroid. Fine....so now I'm also on 3000mg per day of over the counter pain meds just to keep myself somewhat out of pain. 3 weeks later I talk to the Radation oncology PA. She puts my on a different steroid. Take that for a week....no change. Finally after a month of lots of pain meds and steroids...the pain magically goes away to replaced by....facial paralysis.

Facial paralysis

Alright this kind of sucks. My right eye won't blink and the right side of my mouth doesn't do what it should. But at least the pain is gone!! So make appointments with my care team to discuss paralysis...they do another MRI. "ooh look at the the center of the tumor died like it was supposed to" uhh that's great I guess but there are some quality of life issues with a partially paralyzed face. "well we have never had a patient with your kind of tumor have facial paralysis after radiation" "we'd like you to have Avastin infusions". I think to myself--well you guys seem pretty smart...let's try it.

Avastin Infusion

It took 6 nurses to find a blood vessel to get my bloodwork done and start the IV. SIX!! Do blood vessels hide if you're scared They must. The next day oh my the pain on the side of my face again! After two weeks of respite from the pain I was oh so sad for it to be back again. I call the care team...their response "hmm...that's odd this infusion shouldn't cause pain". Umm well it did.

Exploring my next steps

Once a tumor has been radiated it is more challenging to remove. So I call up one of the top surgeons of these kinds of tumors and ask for him to let me know what my next step should be. His patient care coordinator says he actually wants to speak with me...so we have a phone call. I'm expecting him to say..."if after x number of months you aren't getting better then you should consider surgery". What he says instead is "you should get this tumor removed as soon as possible" OK then. I said, can it wait a month -- He said, sooner is better.

Timing is not the best

I guess the only way timing for something like this could be better is if you have surgery when there is no hurry. But with this timeline my challenges are:

1. I have an office remodel starting 5 days before I leave to fly down for surgery.

2. I am in the midst of hiring a new doctor. When do I onboard her

This unwanted tenant will be evicted Oct. 12

This is top priority

[writingwithadinosaur]

“Under the Knife” - Part 9

“Under the Knife” - Part 9

My Masterlist - Here

Story Masterlist - Here

My Tag List - Here

Hannibal Lecter x Reader, Will Graham x Sister!Reader

Word Count: 4,300-ish

Key: Chunks of text in italics are (Y/N)’s thoughts. Y/N = Your Name, H/C = Your Hair Color, E/C = Your Eye Color

Warnings: Cursing, Violence, Torture, Stress/Anxiety

Summary: You are Will Graham’s sister who works with him at the FBI. When you get offered a job promotion, life starts to change. Some changes for the better; Some for the worst.

Author’s Note: This is it! The big moment! There will be one more chapter after this! 

Thank you all so much for the love and support this story has provided. I haven’t gotten this good of a reaction to my writing in awhile and it honestly moved me to tears and motivated me to write more. So from the bottom of my heart, thank you thank you thank you.

This is beta-read by @theeactress​, but please let me know if there is something that we missed or that we should look at again! 

If you would like to be tagged in any of my future pieces, check out my tag list above and let me know! And as always, feedback is greatly appreciated!

<3

- DreaSaurusREX

Tag List: @fruitloopzzz @theeactress @melconnor2007 @ashenfallsof @geeksareunique @all-by-myself98 @sj-thefan​ @fuck-your-bad-vibes-dude​ @ntlmundy​ @a-person-unlabled​ @germansarechill​ @rentheanonymous​ @liadamerondjarin

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Good evening, Henry.” Hannibal appeared to be calm despite the fact that a literal serial killer was in his dining room with a loaded pistol. 

You on the other hand could barely breathe. It was as if your lungs had shrunk to half their natural size. Although it hurt, you forced yourself to take as close to normal breaths as you could. Panicking wouldn’t help the situation at all. Slowly, your hand found its way to your ring and you were able to focus all of your anxious energy there. 

Staying calm was easier with Hannibal here. While you couldn’t take your eyes off of Henry, who was still aiming his pistol at you, hearing and feeling Hannibal’s more placid presence kept you from losing it.

“May I ask why you are pointing a gun at my partner, Henry?” Hannibal monotone but amiable voice spoke. 

As much as you wanted to go over the fact that Hannibal had just called you his partner and distinguish which definition of ‘partner’ he meant, your focus was on Henry and trying to figure out how best to handle the situation.

“Let’s call it a precaution, Dr.Lecter.” Henry was looking at Hannibal, but then unsettlingly shifted his sights on you. “Now, (Y/N), I just want to talk.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to form words. You had no idea how to handle this situation. Figuring out the small details that a killer leaves behind at a crime scene or profiling a person based on their mannerisms was easy. But doing it in real time while the person in question has a fucking gun aimed at your chest? Where the hell do you even begin?

Hannibal saw your distress through your attempt at a neutral mask. He started to stand up and speak, trying to get the attention off of you long enough for you to figure something out.

“How about we--” Henry very quickly aimed the gun at Hannibal and shouted over him. You jumped in your seat and watched Hannibal’s interaction.

“Sit! Down!” There was obvious annoyance and anger in Henry’s voice. 

You tried to look at him as if he wasn’t physically there.

How would you advise an agent to interrogate someone like Henry? What would they have to be careful of? What buttons did he have that could be pushed for their advantage?

Hannibal held up his hands in an effort to show that he meant no harm (yet) as he slowly sat back down. Henry took off a backpack that you only just now realized he was wearing and blindly reached in, keeping his eyes on you and Hannibal. He quickly found what he was looking for and tossed it onto the table in front of you, landing on your plate. The noise of the heavy object hitting the porcelain made you jump again. 

“Shut him up.” You took a shaky breath as you looked down to what was thrown at you. A medium sized roll of duct tape had shoved your lemon covered salmon off your plate and left a crack underneath. “Go on, (Y/N)!” 

You took a deep breath in, knowing that if you didn’t do this simple thing, one of you was going to be shot. You couldn’t fight the shakiness in your hands that the adrenaline manifested itself as. Lifting up the tape you unwound a piece that was large enough to cover Hannibal’s mouth and please Henry. The screech of the tape made you tense up. 

Turning in your seat, you faced Hannibal. His face showed no sign of uncertainty. But when you looked into his eyes, you saw beneath his mask. He was worried, not about himself or the fact that Henry had gotten to the two of you. Instead, he was worried about you. 

“It’ll be alright, my love.” Hannibal spoke loud enough for you to hear. His words didn’t completely ease the intensity of the scene, but it did give you some hope. Hope that after all of this, you would be able to hear him call you that more often.

You nod and blink back the beginnings of tears that had wormed their way forward. Being as gentle as you could, you smoothed the tape onto Hannibal’s mouth, rendering him silent until the predator in the room allowed him to speak. You kissed his cheek before settling back down in your seat, you look back at Henry to see him pleased with your work.

“Now,” Henry moved closer to you, now within a couple feet and the gun even closer to your chest than you’d like. “I want to know what you think, Miss Graham.” 

Henry poked the gun at your shoulder on the word ‘you,’ causing you to fearfully close your eyes and let out a shaky breath through your nose. You couldn’t see, but Hannibal was watching with a careful gaze and a tensed jaw as Henry invaded your space. You attempted to look composed as you faced Henry.

“About what, Mr.Urik?”

“That’s Dr.Urik to you! And what else would I want to talk about? Me, of course!”

“Why do you want to know what I think about you, Dr.Urik? I’m not a doctor by any means.”

“I know you’re not a doctor. That is precisely why I want to know what you think of me and my work.” Henry lifted his free hand to put pressure on the left side of his head as he painfully closed his eyes. He was visibly getting annoyed that you weren’t giving him what he wanted quick enough, which you assumed was bringing back his headaches. 

This is good! Keep thinking like this! Just do what you would do if you were talking to Jack or Hannibal about Henry! Please him for now and maybe you can figure out a way to get out of this shit alive.

You look at Hannibal for reassurance. He nods his head slowly and takes a visibly bigger breath to try and encourage you to do the same. You mirror his movement and find your starting point.

“Well, the first thing I notice is that you’re early.”

“What do you mean?” You could tell that Urik was thrown off by your beginning statement even though he kept his eyes closed and rubbed the side of his head. Hannibal was watching with slight amusement as you tried to knowingly talk with a serial killer face-to-face. His mind worked on a way to disarm Henry and save you from the spotlight while you spoke.

“You’ve been pretty consistent with killing right around every two weeks. You still have a few days before the next two week mark. Which either means that you are getting addicted to the feeling, or your headaches are getting worse.”

At this, Henry’s eyes shot open and he leaned closer to you, pushing the barrel of the gun into your sternum.

“You said you’re not a doctor. So how the fuck--” The pain in your chest now elevated thanks to a literal gun being shoved against it while the unease of this whole show was taking its toll on your lung capacity. But you pushed through and interrupted him, giving him more information that you knew, refusing to give Henry the fear response that he craved and instead tried to go for an ‘understanding’ point of view.

“Dr.Everet was no help to you, so he referred you to Dr.Lecter for therapy after hearing that your medical practice was shut down for what I’m sure was bullshit reasoning, and an eye doctor to see if your headaches were correlated to something like an ocular migraine. But then your eye doctor, Dr.Chasten couldn’t find anything, leaving you deflated as you were then sent to another doctor, Dr.Loriet. He was supposed to find something in your inner ear or sinuses that could explain all of this. He is-- was an ENT specialist after all. You’d think he’d find something, right?”

“Exactly!” Henry pulled out the chair next to you and sat down, finally relieving the physical pressure of the gun off your sternum. “That asshole just ran his tests so he could take my money and then send me to another fucking ‘professional’ and have them do the same thing” 

You could tell that your angle of trying to talk to him as an equal was working as Henry settled in a bit comfortably in the chair. The only major hostile game piece was the gun that was still in play.

Hannibal knew what you were doing and was impressed. At this point, you were feeling slightly more confident in what you were saying and how you were saying it. You knew you still had a lot of work to do to maybe have a chance of getting you and Hannibal out of this alive, but it's better than no chance.

“And Dr.Pencalt, he--” You started as calmly as you could but Henry interrupted, sounding like a child who was in trouble and angry about it.

“Was a load of horseshit.” You turned to face Henry more, now sitting side saddle in the chair, a nonverbal trick to let him think that you were really interested in what he had to say. The only downside was that Hannibal was now completely out of your view behind you. 

“He was your last hope, wasn’t he?” At that, Henry’s leg started to bounce. Obviously that statement resonated something within him, he spoke louder and more emotional than before.

“Motherfucker was supposed to be the best of the best and finally run the procedures that I’ve been askin’ for since this pain started. A goddamn neurologist. He should have--” 

“He did the tests though, right?”

“He took my money, shoved me into machines, poked and prodded me, only to tell me the same shit that all of them were saying.” 

“That it's all in your head?” You crossed your legs and leaned forward just slightly, taking on a sort of motherly tone, trying to solicit a softer and non-lethal response from Henry. 

Apparently that didn’t work. 

Henry slammed his fist on the table, making you jump back in your seat, trying to get some distance away from him. You quickly looked over your shoulder to check on Hannibal. He quietly put a hand on your back for a moment; not only to keep you from falling backwards, but to also provide some comfort. Henry burst out, yelling louder than before, truly upset by your words bringing back memories. 

“Well of course it's in my head! They’re called headaches! So there has to be a reason they’re here and kicking my ass! And those bastards don’t want to tell me!” You could see angry tears forming in his eyes. 

Definitely not the reaction I was hoping for.

You heard movement behind you. It was very quiet, but you heard the fabric of Hannibal’s suit move. You weren’t sure what he was doing and you couldn’t look back to check and bring attention to it. When you look back at Henry’s eyes, you see them shift to Hannibal. Before he could look closer and see any movement, you shifted in your seat to cover Hannibal and try to distract Urik. 

“You-You’re using a gun for the first time! Which is different. Now I don’t think you actually plan on using that for both of us. You’re the Virginia Scalpel, not some lowlife gunman. But if you’re going to break your pattern and use that on anyone it would probably be… me. ” 

Luckily, with Henry being so emotionally all over the place, he was receptive to the attention you were giving him.

“You’re right. This is new. Brand new actually. It's called a Hardballer! You like it?” He sort of showed it off like a game show babe would show off a prize. The lights in Hannibal’s dining room shined off the stainless steel barrel and absorbed into the dark handle base. You feigned fascination to try and keep Henry happy.

“It's beautiful! I mean, I would like it more if it wasn’t aimed at me, but I guess it's nice given the circumstances.”

Henry made a face and then, much to your surprise, uncocked the gun and put it on the table behind him, far enough away where you nor Hannibal could reach it. You watched him carefully as he leaned closer to you, trying to figure out what he was planning on doing next. He got to a certain point where you had to turn your face away because of how close he was getting. You quickly made eye contact with a very tensed up Hannibal. His eyes looked like those of a wolf: Dark, hungry, and protective.

Hannibal had been somewhere in the middle of being a curious bystander and a possessive guardian. This pig was threatening someone that Hannibal deemed to be his, whether you knew it or not. And that was a dangerous game to play with him.

As quickly as you made eye contact with your love, you were snatched away. Warm and rough fingers tightly gripping your chin, forcing you to look at Urik. When your fear-filled eyes met his, you felt the threatening chill of a scalpel being pressed against your cheek.

“Would you prefer this instead, miss Graham? 

At this point, you couldn’t stop a dreadful tear slipping out and racing down your face, only to be met with the blade that was now pressing into your cheek. You felt the tip of the small knife poke through your skin just enough to start minor bleeding. A fear riddled whimper escaped your throat against your will. This kicked Hannibal into gear.

You heard motion behind you as Hannibal reached for the knife that he was using to cut into his salmon just a few moments ago. You braced yourself for whatever Hannibal was planning, expecting something to happen from behind you. Instead, you felt the scalpel drag through your cheek and across the cheekbone, earning you a lengthy gash. Henry had stood up and brought his knife up to point directly at Hannibal’s throat.

“Ah-ah-ah. Hands where I can see them, doctor. You’ll have your turn. Right now, I want to talk more with (Y/N).” You heard the knife drop behind you, Henry then taking the time to swipe away everything in front of Hannibal, leaving him weaponless.

You were now visibly shaking, something you were trying to avoid, knowing it would just fuel Henry. But you were losing hope in your ability to get out of this alive. You couldn’t see it, but Hannibal was furious that he couldn’t do anything to help you without putting your life at risk. 

You were looking down, so you didn’t see the scalpel coming back towards your face. You had to stop yourself from jerking as you felt the cool metal under your chin, pushing your face up to look at your killer who stood in front of you now. 

“Stand up.” Henry commanded as he turned the surgical knife so now the sharp edge was against the underside of your chin making you stand slowly; afraid that if you went too quick, the scalpel would find its home in your throat.

With the risks being as high as they were now, you followed him until you could figure out another tactic or if Hannibal could somehow find a way to get out. The two of you didn’t go far; only a few steps from the table. Henry turned you around so you now faced Hannibal with your back pressed against Henry’s chest and the knife pushed against your throat. Hannibal could now see the few tears that had fallen and mixed with the blood that was slowly coming from the cut on your cheek. No one could see it in his eyes, but the primal and murderous rage was building inside of him, close to bursting. He just needed a clear path.

“You know, there is a reason as to why I kill the wives so quickly.” Henry spoke in your ear but still loud enough for Hannibal to hear, obviously an intimidation technique.

“Oh really?” Your voice wavered near the end.

“People say that a quick death is considered a mercy, which would mean that life is technically a form of torture. I am saving these partners from a tortuous life created by their husbands.”

“You do realize that Hannibal and I aren’t married, right?” You look at Hannibal and see him tilt his head slightly. 

To Henry, it looked like he was just making a movement to show he agreed with you. But you followed his head and his eyes to a point on the floor. When Henry had knocked everything off the table, he had failed to realize that a knife had fallen on the floor a foot and a few feet away from Hannibal. You took a deep breath in and gave a minuscule nod, which Hannibal read perfectly.

We’re getting out of this.

“Yes. But I also realize that there is that connection between you two.” As much as you detested Henry, you had to agree with him on this. There was a connection that you and Hannibal had that the two of you couldn’t ignore anymore. “And that's good enough for me.”

You felt Henry lock his feet in place, preparing to slice open your neck just like how you saw on Mrs.Pencalt. Before you could think too much, you blurted out the first thing that popped into your mind.

“I’m sorry, Henry!” You felt Henry stutter and stop out of confusion.

“What are you sorry for?” 

“For making your headache worse.”

Before he could fully process what you had said, you threw your head backward, pounding right into his forehead. Henry dropped his hand from your throat and pressed both of them to his head to try to ease the pain that had now grown exponentially. You pushed through the throbbing pain that radiated across the back of your head and elbowed him in his diaphragm, causing him to lean forward in pain as you launched towards the table. 

Henry forced himself to stand straight and try to refocus on you, letting out a string of expletives as he did. You quickly got to the gun, aimed, and pulled the trigger.

But nothing happened. No loud bang. No thud of a body hitting the ground. Nothing.

The gun was empty this whole fucking time.

You froze for a second, but that second cost you this fight. Henry grabbed you by your hair and swiftly crashed your head onto the table, knocking you unconscious.

Before Henry could end your life then and there, Hannibal expertly threw the knife from the floor at Henry, landing it in his left thigh. As he dropped his hold on you and his scalpel, Hannibal quickly stalked up to Henry; a true predator coming in to play with their food before the final kill. 

A tight fist meets Henry’s abdomen, knocking the wind out of him. As Henry leans forward in pain, he is met with Hannibal’s knee rushing to Henry’s face, surely breaking his nose. As he is bent down further, Henry reaches into his pocket and finds the syringe he had prepared earlier. He gets a better grasp of it before heaving himself at Hannibal, aiming the needle at his neck.

Hannibal quickly stepped to the side and caught Henry’s hand with the syringe in it. He bent Henry’s arm back until there was a loud pop and a scream of pain, resulting in Henry dropping the tube full of paralyzer into Hannibal's open hand. 

Henry felt a new wave of anger as his plan was falling apart.

With this second wind, Henry pulled the knife out of his leg with his uninjured hand and slashed at Hannibal, getting a slice across Hannibal’s hand. The unexpected cut caused Hannibal to recoil and let go of Henry’s wrist, but still managed to kick a heavy foot into the now open wound in Henry’s thigh. Henry faltered, giving Hannibal enough time to take the syringe and stick it into Henry’s neck, emptying the entirety of its contents into his system.

As Henry cried out in pain and involuntarily stumbled backwards, Hannibal walked close to where you were laying on the floor. He knew Henry dropped his scalpel near you. Hannibal was trying to keep his mind calm and focused on “handling” his unwelcome guest, but then his gaze fell on your limp body. Seeing you unconscious and not being able to clearly see if you were alive or not sent him over the edge. 

He would come to your side in just a minute. For now, he picked up the knife, ripped the duct tape from his mouth, and let the familiar bloodlust consume him.

Henry was mid-charge, kitchen knife in hand, when Hannibal kicked his leg out straight and knocked Henry on his ass once again. Hannibal sauntered closer as Henry wobbled, trying to get to his feet but finding it progressively harder and harder to get his muscles to move at his command. Nevertheless, Henry kept attacking even though he could almost no longer bend his right leg.

Hannibal could see just how quickly the paralytic was coursing through his victim, obviously some sort of mutated version of the basic drug in order to quicken the effects. He let a devious smirk flash on his face, causing a twitch of fear to soar through Henry’s heart for a second as he tried to lunge at Hannibal, knife aimed and ready to land in the middle of Hannibal’s chest. 

Before the kitchen knife could come close to Hannibal’s sternum, he reached and grabbed his wrist, twisting it harshly down to his side and pointed away from any potential contact, expecting Henry to drop the knife. Henry screamed but didn’t let go. He couldn’t let go. More and more of his body was being inhibited. Hannibal took this opportunity to follow in your footsteps and worsen Henry’s headache more. 

The quick but painful clash was enough to disorient Henry. He could barely even try to recover when Hannibal plunged the scalpel into Henry’s shoulder, using all of his force to dig it in further and further until he could feel the metal hit bone.

The kitchen knife dropped next to him as the scalpel went further and further into him. He looked down and chuckled, the effects of the paralytic kicking in.

“There is something ironic about the Virginia Scalpel being killed by his own tools. Don’t you think, Dr.Lecter?”

“I supposed there is. Or perhaps it is like you said, Dr.Urik: Life can be perceived as a form of torture. Yours has been torturous for you and others for long enough.” 

“Perfect.” Henry had used the last bit of muscle control he had left to get the last word and let out a pathetic chuckle.

Hannibal could feel Henry’s muscles tensing up and freezing, allowing him to toss Henry against a wall and watch him fall to the floor, unconscious and powerless. He took two quick deep breaths before rushing to your side.

He gently picked up your wrist and searched for a pulse. Once he found one, he let out a breath that he wasn’t aware that he was holding. He kept a hold of your wrist as he found his phone and dialed Jack Crawford’s number, letting your pulse be a grounding point for him. Hannibal was usually more put together during killings, but the added factor of your life being in danger threw him off his rhythm. 

“Dr.Lecter, I don’t have any update for you. I will let you know as soon as I--”

“I’m afraid I have an update for you, Jack. Henry Urik was in my home this evening. He attacked (Y/N) and me.” Hannibal looked away from you for a moment to glance at Urik’s stiff but barely breathing body against the wall. He took a deep breath in, making it sound like a defeated sigh. “Henry fled after I fought with him. He is injured, but he escaped and I do not know where he went.” 

“Are you alright?” Jack was now aware of the severity of the situation. Hannibal could hear him moving from wherever he was, preparing to make his way to Hannibal’s home.

“I have some minor injuries. But I’m afraid (Y/N) needs an ambulance. She is unconscious and most likely has a concussion. I’m doing what I can to stabilize her until we can get her to a hospital.” Hannibal reached up on the table and grabbed one of the cloth napkins, using it to clean up and apply some pressure to the slice that Henry had created on your face. 

“I’ll be there with a med team and backup soon.” Jack hung up as soon as the last syllable came out. Hannibal put his phone on the table. He then lightly caressed your face, bowing down and kissing your forehead before standing up.

Hannibal stretched his neck and rolled up the sleeves of his now cut and bloodied shirt. It wasn’t the first shirt of his to be ruined by blood, but he wasn’t anticipating this one joining the collection. Looking at the disaster that was his dining room table, he poured himself a glass of wine as he sighs, truly upset that his nice and planned evening with you went so sour. He then slowly turned and made his way to the corpse on the other side of the room.

Hannibal picked up the kitchen knife that had fallen out of Henry’s grasp during the final blow and moved it around in his hand until it was comfy again. 

“Now, Dr.Urik,” He squatted down next to Henry, dragging the knife across his stiff cheek as he took a sip of his wine before speaking. “What shall we do with you?”

#hannibal lecter #Hannibal TV #hannibal fanfiction #hannibal fandom #hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal lecter / reader #Under the Knife

[v8pontiacgirl]

04July2021

I’m still in shock that issues are likely caused by horrible allergies that are likely caused by mold in my house. Due to memory issues, I decided to make a timeline of the last six years, when this started.

September 2015–moved into the house. I was working full time, going to school full time and experiencing allergy issues, such as a sore throat, headaches, and very dry eyes (to the point that I was no longer able to wear my contacts). I actually kept getting allergic conjunctivitis, so I switched to my glasses full time. I’d been able to wear contacts for about 15 years without issues prior to this.

February 2016–injured my knee and found out I had a discoid lateral meniscus with a tear that was hanging up in my knee joint. It took months to get any kind of relief for my knee because the tear didn’t initially show up on the MRI, and because discoid meniscus issues usually show up earlier in life if they are going to be a problem, I wasn’t taken seriously. During this time, I was having issues working because of pain and inability to walk. Also started having more issues with being harassed at work by coworkers. I began to work less and less until I finally quit in September. I had already finished out school in June. I would have had to transfer to a community college two hours away to continue my degree in the fall, and since my knee was being problematic, I decided to hold off.

October 2016–Had my knee surgery. About a week or two afterwards, I got my first vertigo spell (although I didn’t realize it was vertigo at the time). This would become the first of many instances that I would deal with “flares” that would make functioning very difficult for me.

October 2016-March 2017–Some days were better than others. I went to the doctor and blood work and many tests were done. My thyroid levels fluctuated a little, but ultimately seemed ok eventually. Everything else looked normal, except my white blood cell count was always elevated. I was told I was perfectly healthy. The dizziness? It was POTS (Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome), a chronic illness that I had been diagnosed with in 2005 that honestly had never given me too many issues in the past, as long as I stayed hydrated and ate salty foods. I was given some common POTS meds to help me retain water, but, as medications typically do not agree with me, I had too many side effects and was unable to take them.

April 2017-August 2017–I’d been feeling better for about a month (since March), and I was anxious to be back in school. Culinary school had caught my eye a few months prior, so I signed up for the spring cohort. I was in the evening cohort, and I was realizing that my allergies were being aggravated by *something*, so my mornings from 7am to noon were spent cleaning, and from noon to about 8pm, were spent at school. I was able to complete two terms of culinary school. There was to be about a little over a month break from the middle of August to the end of September before fall term began. I went to California in August after finishing Summer term for a few days to visit friends. After returning, I started to feel like I was going into another “flare”. Gradually, my health got worse and worse.

September 2017-February 2018–by the end of September, when it was time to go back to culinary school, I was bedridden. The vertigo was so bad that I was unable to do anything except remain horizontal. For about six months again, my health was unbearable and I was unable to function.

March-April 2018–I finally began to feel a little better in March and April (also around the time when I started to get outside to do more garden things), and decided that I would try to go back to culinary school for summer term (the cohorts had changed because of a new director, and so there were classes I could take toward my degree). It’s really interesting that my heath was generally better the more I was able to get out of the house.

June 2018-August 2018—I was doing a lot of outdoor garden things in the afternoons and going to school for several hours every morning. I was even hired to help cater a wedding in August. My health seemed mostly under control, with only minor symptoms.

September 2018-December 2018—The end of September, I began my fourth term of culinary school. I also joined the culinary team, so pretty much all of my time was spent at school, even most of December, when the other students went home for break, I stayed at school trying to perfect my dish for competition. I was fatigued, but my health was mostly stable.

January 2019–After a *very* brief break, I was back in school for one whole day of winter term. I was definitely feeling fatigued because I hadn’t really gotten a break (and probably, in hindsight, because my allergies had really worn me down, too), and I was told by the coach that he was kicking me off the team because he was concerned my health problems would hold the team back, and he wanted to win. My health had not been an issue that he had seen at all, but he just thought it was too much of a risk to keep me. If I wouldn’t have disclosed that I had health problems when I tried out for team, I don’t think this would have happened. Anyway, I was pretty angry, especially after all the time I’d put in. Since the coach was also the director of the school, and there had also been an issue with the instructor quitting and a new instructor having to take over at the end of the last term, I decided that this culinary school really wasn’t worth my time or money any longer, so I quit. Immediately after, I bought the rest of the books that I would have needed for school and began to teach myself techniques with sugar and chocolate. I decided I was going to start focusing more seriously on Spoon Life Bakery, my cottage bakery business that I had started in July 2017.

February 2019-March 2020—I was the most busy I’d been in a while. Garden projects, baking projects, and painting projects took up all my time. From August 2019 to the beginning of March 2020, I was more busy than I wanted to be with my short lived restaurant project. The restaurant actually opened in October, but there was a lot of prep work prior. All of this kept me out of the house for most of the day. I was exhausted, but not symptomatic. Basically, during this time period, I was either outside, or at another location for the majority of the time. During the rainy months (December 2019-March 2020), the basement of the house flooded. It had always been musty and damp down there, but it had never flooded like that.

March-May 2020—I closed the restaurant in March, and began to be at home a lot more often. I started going hard with Spoon Life Bakery again, baking out of my home kitchen. I got back into Jiu Jitsu. I was doing ok, but by May, I started to feel like something wasn’t right again.

May-December 2020—My health “flared” a little during this time. It wasn’t as bad overall as it had been, but some days were better than others. Some days the vertigo made me bedridden. It was unpredictable. In May, I had to quit Jiu Jitsu again because I wasn’t feeling well and didn’t have the stamina to keep doing it.

January-May 2021–I’d had enough descent days that I decided to try to try to go back to Jiu Jitsu, or rather, a self defense class based on Jiu Jitsu. This class ran twice a week through March, and I was able to keep up and not miss a class. The basement flooded again, so we moved the dehumidifier into the storage room where the majority of the water was coming in. After self defense was over, I started regular jiu jitsu again in April, but felt much more exhausted than usual. My vertigo was getting worse to the point that it was always present. I took a break from Jiu Jitsu again in May.

May-June 2021—My throat was so sore, that I thought I had tonsillitis. My left ear was plugged. I felt like I was getting sick with some sort of virus, except it went on for weeks without getting better. I saw an ENT in mid June. He thought maybe I had Meniere’s, but didn’t officially diagnose me, since I needed to get a hearing test, which is scheduled for this month, and at the time of writing this has not happened yet. Other than that, he didn’t see anything else that alerted him. Soon after, I began to get very sick with horrible vertigo. I was bedridden again.

July 2021–Until the 2nd, I was in an absolutely horrible flare that had lasted without relief for about two weeks. I was convinced that this was just my life now, and in desperation, I called the doctor. She told me to come in that same day. Normally, I don’t leave the house when I’m feeling my worst. I had to keep laying down at the doctor’s because my vertigo was so bad. The doctor performed her usual tests, and looked in my nose. She informed me that it was very inflamed and swollen and she wasn’t sure how I was able to breathe out of it. I admitted that every morning, my nose is stuffed up pretty badly. She prescribed the Montelukast, that I’m unable to take because of side effects, and told me that she really thinks that allergies are causing my vertigo because the ear nose and throat are all connected. At first, I was discouraged with this diagnosis, because I felt like she was brushing off my symptoms. *Just* allergies?! I couldn’t believe allergies could cause such severe symptoms.

We made a few more stops after visiting the doctor, and when I’d been out of the house for about an hour and a half, I miraculously started feeling a little better. What?? Was the doctor right? I knew my house was probably triggering my allergies, but I didn’t think it was *that* bad.

Getting out of the house for two hours brought me out of one of my worst flairs. I’m now about 99.9% that mold in my house, specifically the basement, is making me sick. I’m going to keep testing this to be sure, but I’m now filled with some hope that I may be able to lead a much less depressing life. Time will tell.

#allergies #chronic illness #mold is bad #allergies are no joke

[hookedontaronfics]

Honky Dancer series - Chapter 7

Chapter title: Secrets and sorrows Read the previous installments here: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3  | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 Rating: M Pairing: Taron x OC Warnings: None A/N: This chapter tore the hell out of my emotions, and I actually expect it to do much the same to you. I’d apologize for that but I know you’ll all stick with me to the end, because the story has a long way to go to get to that happy ending you all want so much! Enjoy! X

The next three weeks were some of the best weeks of my life. Being Taron’s girlfriend, being loved by him, was an exceptional experience. Despite both of us being incredibly busy and in the thick of filming, he never let a day go by where he didn’t remind me in some way that I was loved and that I was his. I’d never had a relationship that had felt so genuinely real and sweet and supportive, and it made a difference in how I felt about my own life to that point.

One of my favorite moments had been the evening I was making dinner, some kind of cauliflower pasta recipe Taron had agreed to be the guinea pig for. He and Clara were seated at the dining table, going over her fractions homework. Clara’s frustration at not understanding the problems was palpable, but I just remember how patient and calm Taron remained until that look of understanding dawned on my daughter’s face. They’d both looked up at me, leaning in the kitchen doorway, with the sweetest looks on their faces.

Their bond was growing every day, made even stronger when, unbeknownst to me, a special delivery had been made of a Steinway upright studio piano so Clara could continue her lessons at home. I will never forget the look on her face when she realized it really was hers and it would be staying in my front room. Taron rebuffed every “you shouldn’t have” I tried to give him, telling me he knew first-hand how important it was to be supported in the pursuit of your art. I couldn’t deny him that, because I knew it to be true as well. Still, a few internet searches later made me gasp at how much he had spent on us; I knew I could never repay him.

But that was just the thing; he didn’t want or need repayment. He did things for people out of the kindness of his heart; he never expected someone to give him a favor back. He was generous to a fault, and whether he knew how much money he was worth or not, he never affected an attitude that he was affluent. He remained the working class boy he’d spent his childhood growing up as, the boy who needed financial help from his family just to audition for RADA. And I think I loved him even more for that.

Trying to pin Markus down, though, that was a whole other story. I knew I needed to tell him we were definitely done, but every time I tried to make plans to grab a coffee he had something else come up. We were dancing every day, learning choreography for both “Saturday Night’s Alright” and “Bitch Is Back,” and my body hurt in every way it was possible to hurt. Both of those pieces were massive, and when they secured set locations we would have to be ready to go. 

I’m pretty sure I spent more time at Rocketman rehearsals those few weeks than I did teaching my own classes, but I was beginning to wonder if Markus was blowing me off because he already suspected what I needed to tell him. I had finally decided to just grab him after rehearsal that day and make it final, and the stress and anxiety of it made me feel slightly queasy.

We had just finished rehearsal and Leah immediately came up to me before I could pull Markus aside. “Are you okay?” she asked me, and I shrugged.

“Of course. I mean, I’m with Taron now anyway,” I said, watching Markus flirt a bit shamelessly with another dancer, and she was all-too-happy to be receiving his attention. I’m not really sure how someone could manage to make a leotard look slutty, but she certainly got an A for the effort.

“Markus can be a dick, forget that. What I mean is that you’re really pale but your cheeks are also really flushed,” Leah said, staring at my face.

“Oh, that, I don’t feel great, no,” I shook my head. “I’m kind of nauseous, but hey, I’m here. The show must go on,” I said, giving her a faint smile.

“Or it really doesn’t if you’re really sick, Juliette,” she said. “Maybe you should sit down for a moment.”

“I just need to deal with Markus and get home and take a nice long soak and get some sleep. I’ll be fine,” I said, giving her a tight smile even though I was fighting the urge to lose my lunch at that moment. “See you tomorrow?” I said, and she nodded, still looking concerned. But when I turned away from her to find Markus, he had already disappeared, and I was in no state to try and chase him down.

I changed into my sneaks and gathered up my bag and, as I was leaving, had to make a detour into the bathroom to puke after all. I hadn’t had much to eat that day anyway, so it was mostly orange Gatorade and bile and I felt worse for throwing up, since it was now burning in my throat and sinuses.

“Ugh, fuck,” I groaned as I left the stall, trying to wipe the clammy sweat off my forehead. The truth was that I was waking up most mornings feeling a little ill and sometimes it lasted long into the day. I was beginning to think I needed to go to the doctor, but it seemed to come and go at random. I imagined it was likely just stress from everything going on, but it would probably be wise to see the doctor anyway. I washed up, splashing water on my face, and smiled as I scrolled through my texts. Taron never failed to make me feel better no matter what.

I left the bathroom and passed Riley and her posse hanging out in the hallway, ignoring their stares and the whispered comments on how I must be bulimic because that’s why I was always running to the bathroom during rehearsals and why I stayed so skinny. I had no idea what they were talking about, and ignoring them was always the safest bet, but their bullying still got under my skin some days. I wished I could turn to them and tell them off, but that probably wouldn’t satisfy anything or make me feel better.

The subway ride to my mother’s to pick up Clara, and subsequently home, made me feel even more queasy, and I lost my appetite for dinner for the rest of the evening. After I helped Clara with her homework, her piano lessons, and made her food, I ended up just laying in front of the telly, exhausted and lacking any energy, for the rest of the evening. It wasn’t the most inspiring end to the day, and just as I was crawling into bed, Taron called me. 

“Hey love!” he replied when I answered the phone, probably sounding as sleepy as I felt.

“Hey T,” I groaned, rolling over slightly in my bed, all of my muscles protesting.

“Everything alright?” he asked, the excitement draining from his voice slightly.

“I just feel miserable, honestly,” I said softly. “I think I might go to the doctor tomorrow.”

“Oh, babe, you should have called me over. I’d bring you the best soup my mam made to make me feel better,” he said sweetly.

“I just need sleep. And probably strong drugs,” I mumbled into the phone.

“Do you want me to go with you tomorrow to the clinic?” he asked, and I shook my head before realizing he couldn’t see that.

“I’ll not have you cancel on your film scenes to go wait in a clinic lobby. I’m sure it’s just some kind of bug. I’ll be fine,” I insisted, and I could hear him pacing on the other end, the way he did when he was anxious about something.

“Alright, but if you need me, you know I’ll be there, right?” he said quietly.

“Of course, babe. I know that. With my whole heart, I know that,” I smiled softly. We chatted a bit more but I couldn’t hardly keep my eyes open, and soon we ended our call and I passed out.

I actually felt better in the morning, enough to keep some dry toast down, and after seeing Clara off to school, I managed to teach my first two classes of the day before taking my lunch break to go to the clinic. My stomach had started to churn again, and I was ready to just be over this stomach bug. I got checked in and had to groan at the long wait time, having to text the Rocketman choreographer that I’d be running late to rehearsals but he only told me to take care of myself and he’d see me later, and to let him know if that somehow changed.

I was a nervous wreck by the time my name was called, and after having my vitals checked (and frowning over the fact that I’d gained 10 pounds despite my diet restrictions) and explaining my symptoms to the nurse, I was left to wait in the room for another 15 minutes, shivering in the cold air. I bounced my knee and aimlessly scrolled through Facebook until the doctor came in. After describing my symptoms, yet again, even though they were in my chart, the doctor asked if there was even a remote chance that I could be pregnant. And since I couldn’t answer that with utter confidence, she made me take the dreaded urine test. 

I was so nervous I nearly couldn’t do it, and then had to wait even longer for the results to come back, my stomach tied in knots for an entirely different reason. I’d had my period, though, so I’d never thought to take the home tests I’d bought. I’d believed that was a sure sign I wasn’t. But what if I’d been wrong? I thought to myself, my head a complete jumble.

When the doctor knocked and came back in the room, interrupting my train of thought, I nearly fell off the table for having been holding my breath so long. I was clutching my phone in my hand so hard my knuckles were turning white.

“Well, Juliette, your symptoms are very explainable by one very simple thing. You are indeed pregnant, about seven weeks or so,” the doctor replied, as gently as possible.

“But it can’t be,” I whispered, feeling the walls of the room closing in around me, the tightness in my chest threatening to overwhelm me. “I had my period,” I said stupidly.

“Many women still have menstrual cycles, especially in the first trimester. It’s quite common, and some can even exhibit period symptoms throughout the entire pregnancy. But the results are very clear,” she explained sympathetically after gauging my reaction as not-of-the-excited variety.

When I didn’t respond, couldn’t respond, the doctor continued, giving me a prescription to help with the nausea and telling me I needed to follow up with my Ob-Gyn. I could only nod my head, still frozen in the ocean of confusion, fear, anxiety, joy and excitement that came with “You’re pregnant.” Where do I go from here? I had no idea.

I left the clinic in an absolute daze, and instead of going to Rocketman rehearsal, I ended up wandering around Regents Park, not really seeing anything at all as I worked through the torrent of emotions and thoughts and questions inside my head. Seven weeks meant the baby was definitely Markus’ - that was the only good thing about this situation. I wouldn’t have to spend months wondering who the father might be. 

But now I wasn’t sure what to do; I was in love with Taron, but how could I possibly ask him to carry this burden with me, to take this responsibility on when it was another man’s? Even more so, I was adamant that Clara know her father; I would fight just as hard to make sure this baby knew his or hers. And I had yet to actually leave Markus, so maybe the right thing to do was to decide to be with him even if it didn’t make my heart entirely happy. I now had a responsibility to this baby to not be selfish, to not choose only my own happiness but what would be best for all of us.

I gently touched my belly and smiled for a moment; a new chapter in my life was most definitely beginning.

I finally made it to rehearsals, texting Taron that we needed to talk later, as soon as we could manage to find time. He responded immediately that he’d meet me after rehearsals were over, so I spent the next few hours trying to dance through my anxiety. As soon as I stepped out of the rehearsal room, bag slung over my shoulder, Taron was there waiting for me.

“Juliette, darling, everything alright?” he asked, kissing me on the forehead and making me feel intrinsically sad.

“No, not really,” I said softly, nodding toward one of the empty studios. We stepped inside and instantly I felt smaller, diminished by what I was going to do, a lesser person somehow.

“Please tell me what’s going on,” he asked, his eyes wide and full of the vulnerability that had endeared me to him, my hands clutched tightly in his.

“I can’t do this,” I said so quietly I wasn’t sure he even heard me. “I can’t be with you, Taron,” I mumbled, hearing his sharp intake of breath and feeling it like a knife wound in my heart.

“What the hell do you mean?” he asked, slowly dropping my hands and staring at me.

“I have to break up with you. I’m going to choose Markus,” I said numbly, unfeeling.

“You told me you loved me,” he said, the hurt in his voice hurting me.

“That was a lie,” I said, trying not to tear up. I’m not sure I sounded even remotely convincing.

“No, it wasn’t a lie,” he said, shaking his head and calling my bluff. “I don’t know why you’re doing this, at all. I don’t understand it, but I won’t play these games with you,” he said, waiting for me to explain myself. But I couldn’t tell him about the baby now; it would only hurt him further. “I gave my heart to you. You can’t just toss it away or pick it back up when it’s convenient to you,” he said, not an ounce of anger in his words, only resignation. His eyes were a bit red at that point, and if I wasn’t already feeling low, seeing him nearly cry would have broken me down further.

He sighed heavily when I still said nothing. “When you’re good and ready to love someone proper, come back to me. But until then, I wish you all the best,” he said gruffly, tearing himself away and leaving me standing alone in the studio, the pain in my heart echoing silently off the walls.

****

It turns out that I deserved the biggest Oscar award in the world. To act sincerely happy when your heart is shattered into a million jagged pieces is no small feat. Markus, for his part, was beyond thrilled that I had chosen to be with him after all, and while he wasn’t Taron in any capacity, he was still kind to me at least. I had yet to tell him that I was pregnant though; somehow that felt like a secret I needed to protect until the moment I couldn’t hide it any longer. 

For now, I continued to dance, eating anti-nausea meds like Pez candies and trying to find the right balance between eating enough food to sustain myself and the baby but not so much that I’d gain any more than I had to. If the production never found out I was knocked up, then no one else would have to be the wiser. I hadn’t told my mum yet either, afraid of her judgment, nor Madison, even though I desperately needed to talk to someone about this. All she knew was that I had decided to cast my lot in with Markus and that I was, according to her, figuratively insane.

The worst part was the cold politeness I now received from Taron any time we ran into each other at the studios. I hated what we had become, hated the pain I had caused him and myself. I knew he’d shut himself down to protect his own feelings against me, but knowing how warm and compassionate and open he could be just made this feel even worse. Still, I knew for certain that he couldn’t know about the baby, and so I bore the ups and downs of the pregnancy for weeks in silence, sometimes dreading getting out of bed, sometimes full of a strange energy I couldn’t explain. But glowing I was not; I mostly felt bedraggled and exhausted, so much that even Clara asked if I was sick one day.

But you can only go so long without support before you totally break; I learned that lesson the hard way. Five weeks later, after a back-breaking rehearsal, I just totally felt something inside me snap. We were about to start night shoots for the “Saturday Night’s Alright” scenes but I couldn’t even muster the excitement I had originally felt when I signed my contract. I felt like I was going through the motions of everything, and I was worried I wouldn’t even be a proper fit for the film. I was living a lie, only partly happy in this pseudo-relationship I was trying to build with Markus. It wasn’t true, and it wasn’t me, and keeping the baby a secret was crushing me. I also desperately missed Taron, and I can’t tell you how many times I nearly dialed his number, because I knew despite everything he would have picked up the phone, and he would have listened, and he would have tried to help me find a solution even if he wasn’t with me. That was just the person he was; I felt like I had lost my best friend.

I pulled Markus into the same empty studio I had broken Taron’s heart in, and sat down on the floor, my hips aching something fierce.

“Markus, I have to tell you something. Please don’t freak out,” I said quietly, as he sprawled out on the floor next to me, his sweaty shirt sticking to his muscular chest.

“What is it, babe?” he asked, crossing his arms behind his head and staring up at the ceiling. While I loved when Taron called me babe, something about the way Markus said it always made me cringe slightly. For a moment I nearly chickened out in telling him my news, but I couldn’t keep going on like this. At some point he would notice when I was naked that my just-beginning-to-show stomach bump was more than just a large meal I wasn’t even eating.

“You remember that first time we had sex, right?” I said, looking over at him and biting my lip.

“Of course I remember that,” he chuckled. “I fell for you that night,” he said, a boyishly cute grin on his face.

“Yeah, well, we did a lot more that night than just sleep together. Markus, we made a baby. I’m pregnant,” I said quietly, but my words still sounded too loud.

“Woah, no way,” he said, sitting up immediately. “You… you’re sure of that?” he asked, and I nodded.

“I had a test at the clinic, I’m sure,” I said. “I’m twelve weeks already.”

“And you’re sure it’s mine?” he asked, making me sigh.

“Of course it is. Taron’s always used protection, for one, and for two, the timeline is right. It was you.”

He was quiet for a long few minutes, trying to process this news, I’m guessing. “You’re running out of time then,” he finally spoke.

“Running out of time? For what?” I asked, confused.

“Well you’re not going to keep the thing, are you?” he said, and I couldn’t help it, my jaw dropped.

“Of course I’m going to keep your son or daughter. This baby isn’t some ‘thing.’ It’s not garbage you throw away,” I said, feeling the anger rising in my chest.

“Woah, I didn’t mean it like that Juliette. But I sure as hell am not ready to become a father,” he said, holding up his hands to me.

“You don’t get to make that decision now, Markus. You have to take responsibility for what you did,” I nearly hissed. “And what about Clara? You can’t date me without considering her!”

“Yeah, but Clara’s old enough to wipe her own ass. And I’m not her father, she already has one of those she spends time with. I’m fine with that, but a baby is a whole other story. You can’t possibly want this too, it will ruin your career,” he pointed out, and I could only stare at him, unable to process what he was saying.

“My career? Being a mum was the best thing I’ve ever done in my life and I will choose my family over my career every single day of my life. But of course, you wouldn’t know what that’s like because you don’t even want to try,” I said, my face flushing red.

“I’m sorry Juliette. I just can’t,” he said, shaking his head. “I’d support you if you want to, you know, terminate it, but I won’t be the one raising it,” he said. “I’m not going to shatter my life like that,” he continued.

“Then get out. Get out of my face. Don’t ever talk to me again,” I said, my voice shaking in both anger and anguish. “This baby will be better off without someone who doesn’t want it. But I do, and my baby will always know how much I love him or her.”

I buried my head in my hands, bursting into tears as I heard Markus leave the room without another word. I’m not sure what I had expected, but that was not it. I hadn’t remotely prepared myself for the possibility that he would have wanted me to get an abortion, that he would reject fatherhood so thoroughly. Were any of us ever ready to be a parent, even people who had looked forward to it for so long? There was something so deeply terrifying about being responsible for the needs of such a tiny human being, of trying to help them thrive in a world meant for destruction. But that was also the greatest role I had ever held, far more rewarding than any production I had ever graced the stage in. And it wasn’t until the words had left my mouth that I realized how deeply, fiercely I wanted and needed this baby too.

I have no idea how long I cried in that empty studio. I have no idea who discovered me like that through the tiny window in the door. And I have no idea who went and got Taron, but suddenly he was there, pulling me into his safe, comforting arms. I don’t know how long we sat like that, until I had long cried all my tears out and my body had stopped shaking and his fingers grew tired of stroking my hair.

He had stayed silent, patient, until I finally pulled away enough to sit up on my own. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on now?” he asked, absolutely no judgment in his voice. His expression was nothing but kind and compassionate, worried for my well-being over his own.

“I found out I was pregnant five weeks ago,” I said softly. “That’s why I was feeling so ill. I went to the clinic and we did a test. I was already seven weeks at that point. I thought … I thought it would be the right thing to do to give Markus a chance to be the father of the baby he created with me but he wants no part in it. He told me to get rid of it, and I can’t,” I whispered.

“That’s why you tried to break things off with me?” Taron asked gently, smoothing back my hair from my face as I nodded. “Oh Juliette,” he said softly. “I knew there was something, some reason for it. I knew that wasn’t what you wanted, that you were breaking your own heart. I’ve only been waiting for you,” he said, making me want to cry again. “I am here for you in everything, through everything. And we will face this together too. When I told you I loved you, there were no conditions attached. And I love Clara too, and I will love Markus’ baby as it were my own. Because that’s how I love, endlessly,” he said, and my eyes watered up again.

“I can’t ask that of you, Taron,” I said, wiping at my face hastily, but he just reached over and gently brushed my tears from my cheeks before gathering my hands in his own.

“You’re not asking me to do anything. This is something I need too. Maybe it doesn’t happen exactly the way I imagined it would, but that doesn’t mean I can’t accept it, adapt to it, and grow with it. Life has a way of challenging people, but that doesn’t make it all bad. And I right imagine that this could be so much more of a blessing, yeah?”

“My God, you’re a saint. An absolute angel, Taron. I don’t deserve this, at all. I pushed you away,” I said, trembling slightly so he pulled me back into his arms and kissed my forehead sweetly.

“I’m just Taron,” he smiled. “And you do deserve to be happy, and to be loved, and to be absolutely fucking cherished. So I am here for as long as you want me to be here,” he said. “I never really stopped.”

“Even with this?” I asked, touching my belly, which I had started to hide beneath dance sweats because leotards just weren’t cutting it anymore.

“I’m going to be a dad,” he grinned and I’m pretty sure I broke apart in a whole new way at that statement.

“Taron,” I breathed slowly, just gazing at him, feeling excited and a bit bewildered too. “Are you sure?”

“100 percent, Juliette. Now stop asking me that because I won’t change my mind,” he chuckled sweetly. “Now let’s get you up off this floor, and let’s go have a celebratory dinner, shall we?” he said.

“But don’t you have more filming to get back to?” I asked, a bit wide-eyed and still feeling a bit like I was floating a few feet off the ground. My head was swimming with the crazy turn of events.

“Dex understands. You needed me, it’s really as simple as that,” he replied, helping me stand up and even shouldering my stinky dance bag himself, making me roll my eyes.

“I’m pregnant, Taron, not invalid,” I teased him and he just shrugged.

“I’d carry it for you any day,” he smirked, even holding the studio door open for me too. “Get used to it,” he said, before playfully slapping me on the bum as I walked by. “Also just wanted to do that,” he said cheekily, making me groan at that but also feel so grateful that we hadn’t lost what made us feel so special.

“So who all knows about this?” he asked me as we walked out to his car.

“Just you and Markus, really. I hadn’t told anyone before today,” I said softly. “I couldn’t handle it on my own anymore. I was feeling so alone.”

“Well you aren’t alone now, at all. And you should tell your mum, and Madison. Tell them the baby is mine if you like, if you’re worried about anyone judging you. It might as well be, because I’m going to love it that way,” he said, squeezing my hand in his. “But you should feel happy, and proud, and excited. I want that for you,” he grinned, changing everything about the fear and confusion I’d felt just a few weeks before.

“How are you so perfect, Taron?” I asked, shaking my head in awe of him.

“I just wear my heart on my sleeve. It’s not that hard to care about people more than yourself. I find that pays itself back in dividends. And it’s not hard to love you, you know. You’ve brought a lot of color and light into my life in a way I didn’t understand it could be before,” he said softly. “And now I have even more to look forward to.”

“Damnit, T,” I said through the blush rising in my cheeks. “I don’t know how to handle when you say things like that,” I laughed. “It’s like living inside a fairy tale.”

“Fairy tales were written because the truth in them does exist. They aren’t unattainable, impossible figments of our imagination. They can be elusive, yes, and rare, but sometimes you do find yourself living inside one.”

I could only gaze after him as he unlocked the car, opening the door for me again, as I felt every bit of myself being put right again. We decided on our favorite pizza place, but I first made him stop by my house so I could shower and change into more suitable clothes. Clara was with Zayn that night, so we took our time eating and enjoying our relationship again, a relationship that nothing could seem to derail.

I had the idea to stop over at my mum’s, because of all the people who should know, who had been through thick and thin for me with Clara, it was her. Taron almost seemed cutely nervous as we sat on the couch and I broke the news to her. My mom honestly screamed in excitement, jumping up and enveloping us both in a bone-crushing hug. I had no idea why I was so worried about her reaction after all; we never mentioned the baby’s lineage and let her assume since Taron was there. We figured it would be easier this way, to not have to deliver the news with a long introductory caveat, and if the question came up later we could explain then.

As we were driving back to my home, it hit me with a sudden jolt that I would have to meet Taron’s parents, and that we would be sharing the news with his family too. Something about that made everything feel far more real to me, that this was honestly going to be my life. That I would truly become a part of his life, not just in the few dates we managed to squeeze between rehearsals and film sequences, but that we would honestly be creating a life together. There would be many things to have to discuss and figure out in the near future, but tonight wasn’t the night for all of that.

Later, when we were laying on the couch, my head in his lap, the telly on a low murmur and both of us trying to not pass out, everything just felt right. Troy was snoozing on the rug, and I felt as emotionally satisfied as it was possible to feel, and far too stuffed with pizza than I had a right to be. I didn’t have to put on any kind of show with Taron; there was no performance here. We could both comfortably be ourselves, even if that was tired and cranky or moody or whatever.

“Tomorrow’s a big day,” I said with a yawn.

“God, don’t remind me. Night shoots,” he groaned playfully.

“I think it’s exciting,” I grinned. “The set already looks insanely cool. I can’t imagine it all lit up at night!” I smiled. We’d already had a few camera blockings at the carnival they had built specifically for this scene. I was honestly excited about the four days we’d be shooting tomorrow, despite the massive amount of logistics that would go into it. We were definitely in for some long, long nights.

“You think that because you haven’t done it yet,” he giggled. “Speaking of, we should probably head for bed ourselves now. Try to store up some of that energy we’ll be needing.”

I grinned at that and happily followed him back to my bedroom. We both quickly got ready for bed and fell into it, and I was all too happy to see him resting between my frilly sheets and pillows. “You’re cute,” I grinned, kissing the tip of his nose, which he wrinkled in response.

“Well don’t give me a big ego about it,” he teased me lightly, pulling me down to him so that I squealed and then kissing me proper a few times.

“Get some sleep, love,” he smiled, his eyes already drifting shut in exhaustion.

“You too, T. Thanks for saving me today,” I said softly.

“Always,” he breathed out, falling asleep shortly after, his eyelashes sweetly resting against his cheeks in slumber.

Despite my own exhaustion, I was still a whirlwind of emotion and I couldn’t quite fall asleep, so I silently slipped out of bed and grabbed my phone, sitting on the bathroom floor and calling Madison even though it was late and not caring if it woke her up.

“What on earth is going on with you!” she fairly screeched into the phone when she answered, clearly not asleep. “You’ve barely talked to me for weeks. I’m so-”

“I’m pregnant!” I cut in, and she instantly stopped what she was saying.

“What?!” Madison yelled into the phone, so I had to hold it away from my ear for a moment.

“Jesus, Mads. Calm down. Things have really changed,” I said, explaining why I’d broken up with Taron, how things went down with Markus, and that Taron had been more forgiving than I deserved him to be toward me.

“So you’re back together again?” she asked softly.

“Yeah. I’m not sure we really were ever apart. He knew I hadn’t made the decision I wanted to make. That the lie was that I didn’t want him. He knew that the whole time. He truly knows me better than I know myself,” I smiled softly.

“And what about, you know, Markus’ baby?”

“That Markus refuses to acknowledge? Yeah, Taron said it’s his now. He wants to be a dad, and he’s claiming this as his.”

“That’s love, right there, Juliette. It’s staring you right in the face. Don’t you dare ever try and throw that away again, you hear? I will kick your little ballerina ass with my own pointe shoes if I have to!” she squealed, making me laugh too.

“I think I’m done screwing everything up here,” I replied with a laugh. “The universe couldn’t be louder and clearer.”

“That’s for damn sure. Now I’m just curious when he’s going to put a ring on that finger of yours!” she giggled.

“Woah, let’s not get ahead of ourselves just yet,” I cautioned.

“Dream a little, Juliette. He’s obviously a bit of a romantic. You know he’s going to make an honest woman of you. You’d better get on Pinterest and start planning. Oh, and I’d better be your maid of honor,” she said, making me laugh again. I listened to her chatter on about weddings and babies and all the possibilities, feeling bemused but also a little hopeful. I had no idea what a future with Taron looked like, not really, balancing kids and our careers. But I was certain that it would be happy; not easy, not perfect, but always fulfilling and supportive.

“Alright, Mads, I should go,” I said with a yawn, breaking into her reverie of my own someday maybe wedding.

“Oh, of course. Momma ought to get her baby rest,” she teased me, but it was all in love and excitement for me.

“You know it,” I giggled. “And that hottie in my bed tonight, snoring away,” I snickered.

“Jesus, you lucky bitch,” Madison joked, sort of.

“Yeah, yeah,” I grinned. “Night, Mads. Love you long.”

“Love you hard, Juliette,” she grinned back before we managed to hang up the call. I leaned my head back against the wall for a long moment, smiling to myself. I could honestly do this - I could have a happy life, I thought to myself.

I used the toilet one last time, already starting to feel the need to do that more often, before slipping back into bed with Taron, realizing just how much I had missed seeing the silhouette of his sleeping form. We had grown so comfortable with each other, that that absence over five weeks had been misery. But like magnets, we had found our way back to each other, his openness, vulnerability and forgiving heart never once questioning whether I should be in his life. He already knew that was where I belonged, and I loved him so much for never doubting it. I needed him, and he accepted that, and trusted so much of himself to my broken heart.

“Love you, T,” I said in the darkness, brushing my fingers lightly through his hair, before settling in next to him, feeling every ache and pain, emotionally wrought, but also feeling a deep satisfaction too. There was a certain courage in what he was choosing to do, and I respected him whole-heartedly for it. The universe had given me the greatest gifts, the man beside me, and the baby inside me. As I fell into the sweetest slumber, I promised myself I wasn’t ever going to let go now.

How will Taron and Juliette’s lives intersect, now that there’s a baby between them? Find out in Chapter 8 HERE.

#taron imagine #taron egerton #taron x reader #taron fanfiction #rocketman fanfiction

[bigsnzstanacct]

Dr. Brown’s Interdimensional Time Traveling Sneeze Clinic

Another story I wrote, with a concept I found to be a fun frame for doing alien sneeze one-shots. Maybe I’ll bring that back but weirder.

“So, Mr. Ackerman, I’ve got to ask… what exactly is a ‘sneezing emergency?’”

Dr. Brown peered over his glasses at his newest patient, a Mr. Ackerman who’d rushed into his office, with no appointment, and begged to see him, said he’d heard Dr. Brown was the best ENT in the galactic system and that he had, as he said, a “sneezing emergency.” This particular patient appeared to hail from an “earth-like” homeworld, that is, a world that attempted to maintain the culture and practices of the human homeworld in the era immediately before its first contact with the galactic system. Of course that was millennia and millennia ago, but alas, who can argue with traditionalists? Besides, worlds that upheld the culture of some particular historical period or other were actually quite in vogue, though Dr. Brown hardly understood the trend.

“Um, well doc, you see… my allergies are… my sneezes can get… just… when I have to sneeze I get all… and then it… and I hate it but I can’t help… it’s just an emergency doc! You gotta make me stop sneezing.”

Dr. Brown chuckled a bit. He’d certainly never seen a patient so flustered over a few sneezes. On one level, he was a bit shocked that sneezing itself, in all these millennia, had never been eradicated. But sneezing was a shockingly persistent adaptation, consistent in well over 95% of sentient, near-sentient, meta-sentient, and periodically-sentient species, as well as those beings that had “evolved beyond the need for labels, and sentience is a social construct anyway” (which was, in fact, their official designation.)

Bound by his oath to reflect the cultures of all worlds, Dr. Brown offered his patient what relief he could as would be appropriate to Earth circa 2015. Quickly scanning the minds of all doctors on the #DocBrown Network (Dr. Brown was a proud meta-sentient, don’t you know), he arrived at the 2015-Earth-appropriate prescription, and figured he’d deliver the prescription and finish the day in time to catch the televised Beyonce-bot concert: “Well… alright, Mr. Ackerman certainly I can prescribe some medication for seasonal allergies, but of course there’s nothing one hundred percent effective…”

“No, no, you don’t understand doc, I need something one hundred percent effective! I just… I can’t sneeze anymore.”

“You mean… you can’t sneeze… ever again?”

Ackmerman just looked at Dr. Brown, a stupidly eager look on his face that made him look rather like an overgrown puppy.

“Yeah, doc! You got it! No more sneezes for me. Ever again.” A quick look of… consternation, perhaps… passed over Ackerman’s face before he added. “Ever.”

Dr. Brown glanced over his patient. For all that he’d seen rather ridiculous requests over his many years as a time-travelling, species-agnostic, interdimensional, intergalactic ENT specialist (though he preferred the term “atemporal species-agnostic, interdimensional, intergalactic ENT specialist”), he’d never seen someone be quite so… earnest about something so obviously impossible as preventing any and all sneezes.

“Well certainly, son, you understand the impossibility… people sneeze for so many different reasons, not just ones that we can treat, like a cold or allergies.” Quickly performing a biometric scan of his patient, just to confirm his memory of human anatomy, Dr. Brown continued, “Essentially any time anything irritates the tiny hairs inside your nose, that triggers the reaction that we call a sneeze… once the irritation has triggered a reaction, the reaction is, pragmatically speaking, beyond control.”

“Listen, doc, I don’t care you just… you gotta help me, doc, I can’t sneeze anymore. I can’t sneeze ever again, ‘cause when I do it just… when I sneeze it’s… I…”

Dr. Brown wanted to be irritated by the patient’s stammering and inability to get out any real statement, but he found himself curiously sympathetic. Whatever was ailing this young man, it was certainly causing him a great deal of distress. Dr. Brown said as much. “Whatever is ailing you young man, it is certainly causing you a great deal of distress. That much is clear. But whatever it is, I’m going to need you to fully explain the situation. The galaxy…” Mr. Ackerman looked at him irritatedly—OldWorlders hated it when you reminded them of what millennia it was, nevermind that they took intergalactic instantaneous transportation to get to you, if you happened to mention that such a thing would never exist in “their century” they would always respond in a fashion Doc Brown considered unnecessarily snippy, if not out-and-out rude.

Doc Brown took a second before he continued, “The, ah, world of medicine”—and Mr. Ackerman looked mollified—“is full of quirks and oddities,” he said, smiling brightly at the young man in the hopes of encouraging him to open up. “Whatever has happened to you, I am quite confident that others have suffered it as well.”

At that, the boy perked up. “Really? You think that… it’s not just… you think other people have got the uh… the sneezes like I got ‘em?”

“I am sure of it, my boy. Now, just tell me what happened…”

And Mr. Ackerman began to share his story.

--- Well, first off, ah, Doctor, I’ve ah, I’ve always been a big sneezer. Ever since I was a little kid. I couldn’t help it. When something tickled my nose, I had to let it out, full blast. I always heard people doing those little squelchy sneezes, but I never understood it—how can that be satisfying? So I’ve always, um, you know sneezed big.

And then I grew up and, I mean I’m not a small guy you know? I’ve got a big chest, and that means I got big lungs, and I definitely got a big nose, the guys all tell me. I mean look at it it’s like half a foot off of my face, right? Anyway, I got bigger and the sneezes got bigger with me. I started working out. Got stronger. Sneezes got stronger with it. But, you know, nothing weird, nothing out of the ordinary, just, you know, big sneezes.

Plus, you know, I always get those sun sneezes? You know where you’re allergic to the sun? Whenever I walk outside after class I get these great big, “AAAAAAEEEEEESSSSSSSHHHHHHHHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO” kinda sneezes. I’d walk outside and blast one of those out, and half the people around me would jump ten feet in the air. My buddies, the folks who knew me, they would kid around with me about it, they’d say, “oh there goes a nine-jump sneeze, ladies and gentlemen, a nine-jump sneeze.” That meant, you know, that was a sneeze that would make nine people jump when I let it out, right? And you know, a little one was just a three jump sneeze but sometimes when we were stuck in a dark classroom for long enough I could get out like a fifteen-jumper or even once I got like fifty people after a school assembly… ah, good times, good times. I miss those sneezes…

Anyway, I also have, you know, pollen allergies, and ah… during the spring, sometimes the teachers’ll leave the windows open and it makes me… it just makes me really, really sneezy, you know? So I’ll sit there, and I’ll sit there and I’ll be fine, for a while. And somehow, always when the teacher’s right in the middle of something, that itch’ll hit me. And I dunno, I can’t fight it! When I gotta sneeze, I gotta sneeze so I… you know, I sneeze! And when I sneeze it’s… or anyway when I used to sneeze it was… well you know it was really loud and every time it would interrupt the whole class with a “WWWWWWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAA-HHHHHHHHHHHHHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!” kinda thing, just really screamed it out ‘cause you know that pollen had really got my nose good and… you know my friends would just sit there and laugh ‘cause they didn’t really wanna be in class anyway. And besides you know, the way the pollen used to get me once I started sometimes I couldn’t stop til I did it four or five times but… it would tickle me in between each one for so long… so the teach’d really get started good again and then my nose would go off again with a “YYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIISSSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” sneeze… and then the class’d be interrupted again ‘cause, you know, when I was sneezin’ it wasn’t like you could hear anything else… probably in the next classroom over neither. See, doc, I told you I was a big sneezer… or at least, back then I thought I was a big sneezer… Anyway, half my teachers told me I had to start goin outside the classroom when I had a sneeze comin, but they could hear it through the door anyway so I don’t figure how it helped ‘em much, really…

Oh but okay the worst, really the worst one was we still had… oh man oh man it makes my nose itch just thinkin’ about it… but you gotta promise me if I look like I’m gonna blow you ah… you gotta stop me okay doc? But right, I was telling you the worst one, the worst one of all was sitting outside during football practice. ‘Cause you know, we didn’t have the ah, the astroturf, no, no coach insisted on real grass. But every time they had to cut it, they would cut the grass right before practice and doc? When they first cut the grass? Oh man nothing makes me sneeze worse than fresh cut grass, I mean that was like a fifty-jump sneeze every time—or worse—those were… they made ME jump and I was the one sneezin’ you know? So anyway, the first few practices nobody says anything, or you know, they rib me about it, you know, like guys do, they say, “Hey… Ackerman, you gonna sneeze us off the field? That your plan?” Yeah they were laughing then…

Plus the grass ones weren’t like my normal allergies, and they weren’t like the sun sneezes, you know? The grass sneezes, doc, they would just build… and build… and build, and I’d be squinting up at the sun, hoping it would help me sneeze so I could finally get rid of the tickle, but I’d just sit on the bench for like… five minutes of those mega-dramatic little sniffles and sniffs and breaths like, “eehhhhhhhhhh… heehehhhhhhhhhhhhhhh… hhaaaaaAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH… hAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH…” and I mean I’d still be breathin’ in and I’d practically be shoutin’! I don’t know what comes over me with those grass sneezes but I couldn’t help it! And when it finally came out… Doc, even then I was worried for my health. ‘Cause it was like a bomb went off or something just, “HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” And you know, I’d sniff and I’d feel bad about botherin’ everybody and interruptin’ practice but… I’d always still feel that tickle, doc! Way back in my nose just waitin’… I’d probably have to let one go at least two or three times each practice, every time they mowed that field. And that was just what I let go during practice. In the showers, after? Man, guys swore they went deaf listening to me sputter and sneeze. I’d sneeze for twenty minutes straight, either sneezing or itching and gasping and it was even worse ‘cause you know, I couldn’t look up at the sun and I’d just be panting and gasping and guys’d look at me like I was a TNT ready to go off or something…

Anyway, at first, everybody laughs it off. Then they start, you know, they start teasing a little harder. And then they start making fun of me real bad. But I can’t stop, doc, I just… when I smelled that grass it just made me… I mean I just went off like a nuke, felt like I couldn’t stop it whatever I tried. Anyway, they tried to joke me out of em, but it wasn’t like I was doin’ it on purpose! And so we get farther in the season and every time I sneeze during practice, I got the whole team glaring at me. QB says I’m throwing off his arm, ‘cause he’s just waiting for me to go boom. O-Line says they can’t hear the QB over me. By the time we’re deep in the season, and we’re trying to practice a play and I just start shooting off? Nobody’s laughing. I just get these death glares, man. Finally one day, Coach just loses it. He’s like, “Ackerman! You get that damned nose under control, you hear me? You get that nose under control or you’re off the damn team. I’m not kidding around here! Can it with the sneezing or I’m taking you off! You got that?”

And you know I’m terrified, ‘specially since even when he’s saying it I still got that tingle you know, that tingly feeling in my nose that tells me that I might get a sneeze coming at any moment but he said I had to stop sneezing and… doc, I don’t know how to make myself stop sneezing. I’ve always let ‘em rip. Ever since I was a kid, I get a great big itch in my nose, I can’t help it! I just blast out one ‘a my monster sneezes! I’m not equipped to, you know, pinch it and squeeze it down and do those little chew-toy girly girl sneezes. When I gotta blow, I gotta BLOW, doc, no two ways about it. But, the team is important to me so… I start trying to choke ‘em back.

And at first it works, right, doc? I keep my eyes closed when I’m not on the field, ‘cause I know the sun gets to me too. I keep my finger under my nose, and I press real hard every time the itch gets big. And if all else fails and I really gotta let loose… I pinch it. I pinch my nose closed and… doc, you talk about crazy. Keepin’ all that pressure bottled up, it was… it wasn’t comfortable that was for sure. And when I did it that way I’d have to do, like, fifteen of ‘em before I felt any better. And you could tell the guys wanted to make fun of me for it, for doing the chew toy sneezes but they couldn’t, ‘cause they were afraid it’d make me go back to… you know, the real sneezes. Or at least, how they were then…

But it’s never satisfying. I sit there all of practice holding it back, and holding it back, and then doing the little stifle-y sneezes and it’s never… it never feels right, doc. And yeah I’m still blasting em out during the showers but… the more I stifle and the more I hold back, the more I can’t even let ‘em out during the showers. Soon I couldn’t even get a real sneeze out in class, or when I walked outside. Even the sun sneezes failed me, doc! I mean I remember I got a cold for like two days and the whole time, even with a cold—and doc, if there was anything as bad as the grass sneezes, it was my cold sneezes, boy!—even with a cold in my nose, I couldn’t do a real sneeze.

Well, anyway, it helped me on the team. And Coach says I’m doing good work. And I’m getting off the bench more. And then I’m really getting off the bench a lot, and finally, in the last game of the regular season, Coach starts me. And then we go to the playoffs. And I’m starting! I’m starting, Doc, that’s never happened to me. And you know, I’m thinking, well, sure, I can’t sneeze… ever, but… I’m starting. And we get all the way to the playoffs, all the way to State, and ah… at the State game… that’s when things went… off…

We had to drive down to this dinky little college town, like four hours away from home, and… the closer we get to this town the more my nose starts… itching. Like really itching, like… I mean not as bad as when they cut the grass on the field, but… different, like a slow-burning kinda thing that just tickles more and more and more and… I’m not sneezing I’m not even doing the little chew-toy sneezes, the little squeaks. But the itch isn’t going away. It started out so tiny but the closer we got the more that itch grew, and grew… and I felt like… I wanted to start doing those hitching breaths like I used to, when I got hit with the grass smell but… I didn’t want folks to worry that I was losin’ control of my sneezes, like I used to. So I just… didn’t. And it itched, more and more and more, but I didn’t sneeze, didn’t even breathe like I was gonna sneeze. You know, none of the “huh… hehhhhhh… hiiiiiiiihhhhhhhhh…” kinda business. Nothing! I’m on nose lockdown, nobody even knows what’s happening in there but doc, inside my nose it’s just like… like a trampoline party for like… super tiny ants or something, right on the sneeziest part of my nose.

So my nose is already on fire, right doc? Like it’s tickling so bad, probably worse than I can ever remember, ‘cause you know what I was used to was just… you know, getting the urge and blastin it out, right? Okay anyway… we finally get there and we’ve got a night in the hotel before the game right? So you know, I get outta the bus and doc, I gotta tell you I nearly lost it then and there. That tickly feeling got like three times worse all of the sudden, soon as I got outside. I couldn’t see straight I hadta sneeze so bad. But I couldn’t let anybody see it. I blew my nose a little but that didn’t really help. And in my head I’m wishing, oh god, I’m wishing I could just sneeze, however big or loud or hard I had to sneeze, I didn’t care, whatever it took to get that itch outta my nose!

And I still can’t show it to nobody. I mean I froze when I got outside and they’re like, “Are you OK?” and I’m scared to talk, doc! I’m scared to open my mouth cause if I say anything it might make my nose tickle and either way I just know they’re gonna hear the sneeze in my voice, so… so I keep holdin’ it off.

I finally get to the hotel room when my willpower just gives out, just like… I’m in my hotel room, my roommate’s gone out for a sec and it’s not like the walls can hold my sneezes—I know the rooms nearby will hear me—but maybe, just maybe I can let one out, full force, and maybe that’ll get the tickle to where I can stand it at least. So I let the tickle take over and I’m huffing and puffing and I’m sure it’s gonna be a monster but then… the dude who I gotta share a room with walks in and… I couldn’t help it, I just shut it all down and sneezed a little chew-toy sneeze. Only I couldn’t stop. I just kept going with these little squeaky tiny sneezes. All night. Even at the point where we’re trying to get to sleep, and okay I’m lucky the guy I’m rooming with is a decent dude so he’s like, “At least you’re not blowin’ my eardrums out… just… try to knock it off as soon as you can.”

Well I do the squeaky sneezes til I drift off to sleep, a good two hours after my buddy in the other bed has called it a night. And then I wake up, stretch, yawn, take a great big breath of air… and start in with the squeak sneezes again, the little stifle-y sneezes. The other guy in the room just rolls over and gives me a look before he drags himself into the shower. And even while he’s in the shower, I’m all opening the window, looking into the sunlight, trying to get a real sneeze off so I can get some relief, but… nope, no such luck.

So I’m still doing the squeak-sneezes, and they’re just going and going. They’re going while I shower. They’re going while I get dressed. They don’t stop when I get on the bus, just winding up and then another squeezed-down squeaky stifle sneeze, the exact opposite of how I used to sneeze. And they barely give me any relief, almost none at all, and as soon as I get outside, leave the AC in the hotel, whatever it is that got to me about this town just gets about a thousand times worse. And the squeak-sneezes start coming even more often, until it feels like I’m constantly squeaking and it keeps going and going all the way until we’re back on the bus and we’re practically at the field.

And that’s when I realize, doc, like… it don't matter how many chew-toy sneezes I do, this itch isn’t going away. And I can’t play if I’m chew-toy sneezin’, now can I? Coach sees what’s happening, starts rollin’ his eyes and then… I see ‘im and I can’t even blame ‘im, I wouldn’t start me either, popping off with a squeaky little sneeze every two-n-a-half seconds but damn if it didn’t get to me. I mean my nose can’t get any relief, I still don’t get to start, I’m damn near blowing my brains out every time I do one of those squeaky sneezes and most of all doc, most of all there’s this itch, this itch is like… like I just huffed on every flower in the whole hemisphere while staring into the sun on a fresh cut field a grass. And speaking of which…

I start to smell it. Oh no. The field, they…

It was a whole field of freshly cut grass.

Doc, I don’t know how I held on another second, but I did, but I… I mean what happened next I… I wish I’d just… I wish I’d let go before we got out on the field but I… I’m still doin’ the chew-toy sneezes until… until… until… it happened… but anyway I held back for a while longer. I held back the whole time we got dressed, didn't even so much as do a chew-toy squeak. But my nose was on fire. It was like it itched too much to sneeze! But I made it through the warmups and through the Coach’s speech… and after all those chew-toy sneezes I’d done he was sure relieved to have me looking normal. And yeah, I looked normal but inside my nose… was a different story.

And then uh… doc you gotta… well this is why I’m here ‘cause… well okay. Coach is done talking, we’re all warmed up, it’s time to go out on the field right. And my nose…  my nose has never felt like this before, right? It just feels like… I’m gonna go nuclear at any second. But I’m looking fine, right, nobody can tell the difference. And it’s driving me crazy but… you know, people have played through worse than a tickle in their nose, even if it’s like… the worst tickle anybody’s ever felt in like a billion years. I can do this, right? Well… that’s what I thought.

So the other team’s already done their whole run out on the field bit and they’re just standin’ there right? Like they’re gonna do some announcement or something or sing the national anthem or whatever… so they want both teams out on the field. And then, we run out and doc, doc, you gotta believe me I tried real hard but… when we ran out on that field… with that grass ticklin in my nose, something just… something snapped and the sneeze I’d been holding for so long… I mean it was like… it was like a year’s worth of sneezes just… I tried to hold it but… I just couldn’t, I didn’t, I had to…

I started sucking in air. Now right away, I knew, even for me, this was gonna be a big one. I mean Coach might drop me from the team right there, during the game but… that tickle in my nose! It was so bad, doc, I didn’t even care anymore. I didn’t give a damn about football or starting or Coach or the whole damn team or the state championship I wanted that itch OUT! I needed to SNEEZE a real, massive, full-size, tornado-strength Jimmy Ackerman AH-CHOO… and besides, whether I wanted to or not, it was coming…

I was gasping. The whole team’s turning around to look at me, even while we’re supposed to be running out onto the field. I’m standing right on the field, right in the end zone, and I… I can’t move. It starts real low, like a “huuuhhhhhhh… huuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhh…” but I’m feeling… doc I know it’s crazy but I’m feeling like… like there’s a wind rushing towards me, and my eyes are tearing up and all but I blink down and I’m looking at the grass and it’s… doc the grass is swaying a little…

And then it just keeps coming and now I’m really gasping it in like, “HHHHHHHHHHHUUUUUUUUUUUHHHHHHHHHHHH… HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH…” I mean my chest is swelling and I know I'm not imagining it now… people’s hair is blowing around in the breeze, there are clumps of grass that are just come out of the ground altogether, people are just… they’re just confused, they don’t know what’s happening any more than I do, and Coach is… Coach is walking over and he’s lost it he’s just screaming like, “ACKERMAN! You get that damn nose under control, or I swear… never seen a perfectly good player get so damn sidetracked by sneezing, I mean…”

And, doc… I… I knew it was gonna be a big sneeze, right? But I mean I didn’t know, I couldn’t have known how massive this sneeze was gonna turn out to be. I mean I was used to making people jump with how loud they were but this felt like… well… anyway Coach was right there, in my face, and I was trying… you know I tried to signal as much as I could… tried to get him to move, to get out of the way but… he just kept getting in my space, and I could hardly think about anything… anything except the sneeze, and right when he put his finger in my face, his face is right near my face… I just loose it, doc.

“HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-CCCCCCCCCCHHHHHHHHHHHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!”

I mean doc I’d never sneezed like that… ever, and it… well… I felt all that air blowing out of my nose and my mouth, I felt how much force I was blowing out, how much air I still felt in my lungs as I just kept blasting and blasting… I mean you know my eyes were closed while I was sneezing but I just knew… I was almost afraid to open ‘em you know? And when I did…

Doc I… you’re never gonna believe me but… Doc, I blew Coach halfway across the field. Not just that, I blew most of our team down… ten, fifteen, twenty yards? Doc, the goal post on the other end of the field was swaying. There were banners all around the stands that had blown clean away in the blast, even folks in the stands looked like they’d fallen on top of each other, and… and the worst part was… I wasn’t done.

Doc, I fired off like… ten more of those monsters. I was out of control, I just couldn’t stop. And they never went back to normal, they never got smaller. Just sneeze after sneeze after sneeze. At a certain point people just started running for cover, trying to get away, it was like there was a storm coming but… doc, I was the storm, my nose, my sneezes. Man it was so… embarrassing! And I just kept going and going and going. By the time I finished sneezing, the stadium was basically empty… and basically wrecked. And since then… Doc, my sneezes… they aren’t going back to normal.

I mean they didn’t even want to let me into the hotel room when I got back… and when I did, I totally lost it again, blew out a few windows, totally wrecked the room. I just… I couldn’t help it, it’s like every single sneeze I’d ever held back was just… built up, waiting to get out. And I’ve never had another one quite like that fit at the football field but…

I walk out into the sunlight, get a tickle? Forget a fifty-jump sneeze, it’s liable to be a fifty-foot sneeze, as in people get sneezed fifty-feet away. I mean I haven’t hurt anybody, yet… Coach was a little banged up but he was OK… and the guys were wearing pads… and now everybody knows when I get the sneezes they gotta steer clear. But it’s gettin’ to the point that I’m scared to walk outside! I try to keep my eyes down to the ground but that sun gets to me every time.

And the sneezes in class? I gotta sneeze out the window so I don’t blow nobody through the window! Everybody just leaves a seat by the window for me… and of course I just get more pollen in my nose so I end up sneezing half the class… and I’ve already blown out like ten windows…

And fresh-cut grass, well… let’s just say I don’t get within a hundred feet of anybody’s football field. Hell, my neighbor was mowing the lawn the other day and I was lucky I didn’t blow down his house like the Big Bad friggin Wolf! Doc, it’s crazy! So… so that’s why… I can’t sneeze. Ever again. So uh… will you help me?

--- Dr. Brown was… impressed? Since roughly the midpoint of his story, Dr. Brown had deduced why Mr. Ackerman was so distressed, but he’d searched 13 out of his 79 consciousnesses, and he’d yet to find any situation similar to Ackerman’s. But, he was THE Dr. Brown, the single greatest atemporal, species-agnostic, interdimensional, intergalactic ENT the world had ever seen! If anyone could conquer Ackerman’s admittedly impressive sneezes, it was Doc Brown.

“Well, Mr. Ackerman… I can see now what the problem is… and I have to admit to you, I’m still searching through my multiple consciousnesses and…”

Ackerman made that sour face again. Stupid OldWorlders.

“I mean… I’ll have to finish searching the ah… oh god what did they call it… the um… the inter…”

“Oh you mean searching the internet, doc?”

“Yeah, right, the internet.” Doc Brown barely controlled his eyeroll at that. 21st century technology. “But yes, I’ll have to search the internet, but I haven’t come across a problem like yours in the past.”

Ackerman looked devastated. But Dr. Brown always found a solution! “However… I would love to work with you personally on developing a system to mitigate the effects of your symptoms… ah, you might think of it as a sort of ‘Sneezing Reduction Therapy.’ With any luck we’ll have you back to your old self, just terrifying your fellow humans with your sneezes, rather than blowing them across football fields! Doesn’t that sound great?”

Ackerman brightened up considerably. “Doc! That sounds perfect!”

“Yes… yes… I’m sure it does.” The wheels in Dr. Brown’s head were already turning. (Literally, although the wheels were sub-nano-sized and really only were used for the robo-limbic system, the process for long-term thinking was totally different and involved a great deal more atomic fusion, to say the least…)

--- A few days later, the following ad appeared on advertising media across the galactic center (Doc Brown even sprung for DreamVertising, and you’d think twenty thousand years of marketing experience would get you a better name but, advertisers as always were rather lazy…):

Having issues with your sneezes? Nose causing you dismay? Never fear! Dr. Brown has solutions for sneezing problems of all shapes, sizes, kinds, manners, species, and orders of sentience. Particularly for those having trouble with especially… powerful… sneezes, Dr. Brown’s therapies are a sure-fire success!

Now all that remained was to sit and wait for the clients to roll in…

#snz fic #snz story #male allergies #dr browns interdimensional time travelling sneeze clinic #gigantic sneezes

[thewrongjackpot]

I hit the wrong jackpot. *Spoiler alert, it’s cancer.*

[Originally written 1/3/20]

Warning: There may be a fair amount of sarcasm throughout this post coupled with some dark humor. Also, if you’re new to this channel, please disregard a lot of the other ramblings here, unless one dares to be bored.

“What jackpot did you hit?” you may ask. I hit the cancer jackpot. You read that right. C-A-N-C-E-R. This fun-loving 26-year-old has been diagnosed with Rhabdomyosarcoma and of a newer subtype called Sclerosing. Take those words in. I had to have Google repeatedly tell me how to say it before I got the hang of it. It’s a jackpot because to say it is uncommon in adults is an understatement. A friend told me I need to get my butt to Vegas with all this rare luck.

“Wait, what? How did this all happen?” asked no one. Here’s a fun “little” deep-dive into everything that’s been going on the past few months, and how I’ve been dealing with it. Remember, you chose to continue reading this long post from here on out.

Well, let’s take it back to early-mid August. It started with what I thought was just TMJ issues because I was stressing some and clenching my teeth, so my jaw and temple started off sore. It then progressed to limited range of motion with my jaw (opening/closing), a small protrusion along my temple, and some numbness on my face. The urgent care doc essentially told me it’s TMD, the muscle is swollen, to chill, and it’ll go away. Well, that was extremely off. I saw my primary doctor, who then referred me to an ear, nose, and throat (ENT) doctor. Now, we’re at the end of November, and I had to take some MRIs and then was referred to another ENT doctor. I had a biopsy, and the doctor said it looks more mild-moderate than severe like he was initially thinking, but he was pretty sure it was malignant with how quickly it has been growing. Christmas Eve morning, I get a phone call. The final pathology came about, and it’s an intermediate grade Rhabdomyosarcoma. I was referred to a hospital with a Sarcoma specialist and saw her just after the new year began. She doesn’t know staging yet because she doesn’t know if it has spread anywhere else yet. I only had MRIs done and that was over a month ago now. So next week I get the joyous pleasure of more MRIs, a bone scan, a lumbar puncture, and a bone marrow biopsy. EXCITING. They’re also going to need to start chemo soon, so they’re working on getting that set up in the background. As of right now, the oncologist was saying it’ll be about 5 months of chemo, radiation and/or surgery, and then more chemo. More will be known in the coming weeks, but at least there’s finally a real start and direction to this all.

Needless to say, it’s been a crappy holiday season and last several months.  Here’s a list of what this jolly (not green) giant growth in my head/neck has caused:

Swollen temple/face

Limited ability to open my mouth (~1.5cm)

Misaligned jaw

Numbness along half my face

Sharp shooting pains throughout my head/neck

Impacted breathing out of my left nostril

Fluid in my left ear (impacted hearing)

Trouble swallowing

Fatigue

Body aches

Pressure throughout the entire left side of my head

Large growth(s) inside my mouth encompassing cheek/mouth real estate

Accidentally chewing on said growths, which I think is the reason there’s blood in my mouth periodically

After my first meeting with the oncologist the other day, some topics hit home harder than others.

One of the points that almost made me cry on the spot was when I was asking about fertility. She was saying that she could recommend me to a fertility clinic to harvest my eggs. However, that could take 2-4 weeks, and we might not have that time to spare. I know that there’s so much more at stake, my health and well-being  taking spot numero uno. I also know that there are other ways to still have kids, but it’s still such a depressing feeling and thought. Along with hearing that 2-4 weeks is not time that can be spared, it begs the question, “How bad/serious is this really?”. Having my own child is a choice that may never even be mine to begin with.  I just always had this picture in mind about how life would be never thinking this is the luck I would be dealt. Then again, I don’t think anyone ever envisions something like this happening to them… Although, my vision of six dogs at any given time could become more of a reality. *shrug* (Honorable mention goes out to my brother who was cheering me up big time on this one.)

Next, the fear started to really set in when talking about all these tests that needed to be done. I’m absolutely terrified of pain, and the thought of all these huge needles makes me want to cry, throw up, and pass out. It’s not just the pain and needles I’m afraid of, it’s everything that comes along with the actualization of what this really is. Since we don’t know the full extent of this, my mind can’t help but think the prognosis is possibly more grim with all these tests needed and how quickly this tumor has dominated my face. I’m scared about having to go to treatments, having to feel sick, fatigue setting in, and withering away. I’m scared about losing my hair because, boy, let me tell you, I’ve always had long thick hair my whole life. There are only two occasions I can think of where my hair was shorter than mid-back. I’ve broken down crying several times in the shower while washing my hair; it was always a safety blanket for me. Although, I said I should jump the gun and get a bowl cut already haha. On a more serious note, I’m absolutely mortified that I’m not going to make it through this…but being a fighter and a survivor is in my blood, so I’m trying to not let that run my mind too much.

On a more physical and literal level, one of the most debilitating aspects of this is the limited range of motion with my mouth because I can barely eat. Eating has become almost a punishment because after a few bites of something, it hurts everywhere. It’s hard to swallow at times; it’s just all-around depressing. At this point, I’m closing in on having lost 30 pounds in about three months. I’m eating maybe 1000 calories a day. I try to force myself to eat, but it’s difficult. Some days everything makes me nauseous. I’ve mostly been drinking smoothies, eating soup, and other soft foods like mashed potatoes. Even when I am eating something, it’s extremely defeating when I wipe soup off my chin because the little piece of potato couldn’t fit in my dumb mouth and caused soup to drip down, and I couldn’t feel it because my face is too busy being numb. Moments like that are extremely disheartening. Stupid mouth.

Also, another difficult aspect of this is sleeping. I haven’t gotten a good night’s sleep in months. No matter which way I lie, there is either uncomfortable pressure or some sort of pain. I’ve literally woke up crying like a fussy baby because it hurts so much, and all I want to do is sleep.

DESPITE ALL OF THIS, I’m down, but I’m not out. I still have so many things to be grateful for. My husband continues to be amazingly strong, knows how to comfort me when I need it, and has been picking up my slack. Some of my family members have seriously stepped up in ways I could not have imagined that genuinely caught me by surprise. For those family members who have been with me on this so far, they have been so supportive and simply there for me when I need them. My parents are doing whatever they can from wherever they are to help me, e.g. my mom is flying up next week to be with me. I have some solid friends, and even my husband’s friends have been amazing. Work is working well with me through this, and even my old boss and coworkers have been checking up on me. Side note: I saw this lady at work today (whom I rarely interact with) only to find out her brother got treated where I am by the same set of doctors, and she said his experience was great as was the staff. That was an unexpected nugget of good vibes I did not expect today or ever.

One of the other biggest items I realized a few days ago that I am extremely grateful for is having moved away from Hawaii. Since moving, I go back and forth on whether leaving was the best decision, but now who knows what would be of me if I didn’t. If developing this cancer was an inevitable piece of my life story, being in Hawaii would have been one of the worst things for me. For one, there are doctor shortages, so being seen would have been dragged out so much longer than here. Secondly, Hawaii does not have the specialists to even treat me. I would have had to fly somewhere else anyway. As an aside to this, I’m even more grateful that we moved to the west coast because family is more accessible than in DC, and my husband and I have friends here as well.

Well, that’s about it for now. I like to talk/write, so I’m honestly going to post updates on here even if they fall on deaf ears. Just like this page says, I’m someone rambling lol.

If you’ve made it this far, I’ll give you a cake pop one day or something.

TL;DR

I have a rare form of cancer that’s been progressing pretty quickly. A lot of it really sucks right now, but there’s finally some real direction in getting me treated. Also, I am surrounded by a lot of love and dope people, and I still have so much to be grateful for.

#cancer #chemo #sarcoma #rhabdomyosarcoma #tumor #jackpot #rambling #long post #coping #cancer sucks #dying

[my-safe-space]

The Shadow following you

When working in a hospital, there is always the balance between life and death. To this day, there are more babies born than people dying in a hospital, what somehow gives hope. Because when you work in a specific division in a hospital, you mostly see the death, the babies are born somewhere else.

So death is the shadow following you.

There were a lot of patients who died while I worked, some unexpected and some expected. The ways they die is different as well, some need a long time to let go others let go very fast, some die painful and some peaceful. But until this stage of passing away is reached, there are a lot of other stages. Some we witness in our daily hospital life and others we don’t.

I will take one patient as a example. Mr Becker, he was a 55 years old man, he liked to go fishing with friends on his free weekends, drinking beer and smoking, otherwise he worked in a fabric, what exactly I can’t remember. He had no family, no wife or kids there for him, only his good friends who visited him a least every day of the week.

How I meet Mr Becker? He came into the hospital because of a huge abscess on his throat. It was as big as my fist, but before he came to the pneumology, my division, he entered the ENT. They examined the abscess, took xrays and more. Apparently what they found on the xrays was a shadow in the area of the lungs and they called our head of department of doctor for a case conference.

Our head of department said, that he will take over the case when they handled the abscess. The ENT did and Mr Becker found himself a day later in our infirmary, they gave us instructions on how to properly treat the abscess wound and from then on, we started the diagnostics.

That meant, Mr Becker got a bronchoscopy with biopsy of lung tissue, then more xrays, MRI, CTs and microbiological tests.

When the tests came back, it was clear, that Mr Becker had lung cancer and the abscess was the result of a exploded metastasis in his lymph node on his throat. When he first received the news about his cancer, he was positive about it because the doctors told him, they will immediately look into it about chemotherapy or radiotherapy.

But in truth, they were only buying themselves and Mr Becker some time. Because knowing that he already has metastasis in his lymph nodes only means, there will be even more found. So they made more specific xrays, MRIs and CTs and even sonographies to search for more metastasis.

When we were talking about the patients when new shifts came and we gave over the protocols, it was more than once mentioned how much we pitied this patient. He was still young for the normal human age, he was active, could take care of himself, had a job and a good life.

But since knowing his cancer disease, he wanted to fight it, but with every new diagnosis he lost hope. After all, they found brain, kidney, stomach and even more lymph node metastasis. And I will never forget how I met him on an afternoon near the exit of the hospital, he was out smoking because of his nerves, were I greeted him and asked him if everything was alright. He just looked at me and said, that they found liver metastasis as well. He looked so discouraged and heartbroken.

I mean, how good can someone handle a diagnosis knowing he is certainly going to die? No one can. He was in the beginning positive, until the doctor again talked to him about the therapy ways. And they told him, that there won’t be a cure for him, that they won’t be able to heal him and that the therapies they can do with him will be palliative.

From the on our palliative division began taking care of him as well, they visited him while he was with us and talked to him a lot. Only days later, he began his palliative radiotherapy, he was always on clock and always had a smile on his face while taking his palliative chemotherapy.

He began losing his hair and he began losing weight. But still, he was friendly and stayed so long with us, he knew our names and talked to us. Those talks were sometimes happy and sometimes sad. When it was announced that he was allowed to go home and continue his therapy from there, I had a long talk with him where he cried a lot. He told me how scared and frustrated he was, that he would love to scream at us and violate things around him because he found it so unfair. Unfair that life was going to end whereas he wanted to do so much more than he did until now. He told me, that in the beginning he hoped life would give him a second chance, but in the end let him down, although he never did something bad. he always tried to be friendly, he always tried his best and often forgot to put himself first, why he probably was still alone without a family who could look after him. His parents were dead and he only had his friends and he couldn’t burden them like that. Letting them arrange where he will be buried and giving them the money for the funeral already broke their hearts.

He more and more isolated himself while staying with us, his friends didn’t come as often anymore and on the day he left us, he only nodded in our direction and I remember what he said to me while he cried. That his biggest wish was to give us the blame for his disease, to curse us to death and to scream at us, but we, the medical team, weren’t at fault at all. We just have the bad luck in being the ones to tell him and we are the ones suffering the behavior, but he could never blame us. Then he told me, that in the weeks he stayed with us, he felt like at home and he could never be mean to such lovely and friendly nurses who already have to endure the bad behavior of far less sick people than him.

A whole month went by and then one day we got a call. Mr Becker was back, he was down in the emergency and pleaded the nurses and doctors down there to come back to our infirmary. Why he pleaded? Because he didn’t belong in our division anymore, he should have gone to the oncology but he wanted to come to us.

When we went down to get him, he was laying in a bed, and unrecognizable. he was pale like a ghost, so unhealthy thin and he had no hair at all. He was not the man I knew a month ago. The cancer and therapies took every last life out of his body and showed us only the shell of a man. But he still could give us a weak smile and started joking with us again. If we had missed him, and he just wanted to be with his lovely nurses he so much loves.

We, of course, started joking with him as well and showed him that we appreciated his humor.

From then on, he was in the stages of passing away. He got an only room and the palliative division again came to look after him. They recommended a lot of medication to make his passing more bearable, because he had a lot of pain and fear. The fear was the worst, he often cried and told us how scared he was of dying alone, he didn’t want to die alone. He was always happy when someone was with him in his only room, when we came to check up on him.

At the beginning he was able to talk, at some point he wasn’t, he could only look and smile at us. Then he couldn’t open his eyes anymore. He became morphine in a perfusion continuously and oxygen, both against the shortness of breath he had. He became psychotropics against his panic attacks and the fear.

And at some point he was just lying there, he wasn’t reacting at all anymore, he wasn’t eating or drinking anymore. It was clear from the beginning that he came to us to die, out of fear of dying alone in his home.

We continued to take care of him and talking to him, even when he couldn’t respond. We told him to let go and told him it was fine. He did good and his journey was over now. And I could even now imagine how he would smile and joke at that sentence with us, but it’s something we had to tell him. He always said he didn’t know what his purpose was and why all this happened, and of course we couldn’t give him an answer.

After a week of coming back to us, he died. I wasn’t there that morning my colleagues found him, I was only told that he apparently just stopped breathing and was gone.

Mr Becker was a friendly and good man, remembering him was one of the most emotional cases we had in a long time because we witnessed everything, from beginning to end. We don’t often have such cases, because like I said everyone dies in another way. I really liked that man, he was funny and reasonable, he was a realist and open with his emotions.

I just hope he found his peace with everything and could also let go in peace, with no remorse or bad feelings following wherever he went.

I started crying a bit while writing this, I can���t describe every detail of that case because it would be too long then, but I hope I could bring it over properly. I will tell more of those stories some time, but this was the most emotional one I could remember and am gonna tell about. As always the names were changed.

Thank you for reading!

#nurse life #nurse experience #hospital experience #personal experience #nurse stories #hospital stories #death