#abdominal aorta

[primitiveside]

@priceforeverything arrives.

"The stop after this shipping lane," his eyes, uncovered and unmoving from the page, relay nothing beneath the cool silver. "Place has got live butchers. Not the kind you hunt to keep your lights on." Present company included. No, not killers of men. "Not a lotta heat. And they sell, night or day." The book sags to his chest. Riddick reads the ceiling as he orchestrates his thoughts silently. And looks, finally, at Johns. "Route's clear." His being away from the pilot's chair suggested that much.

#priceforeverything. 「 johns 」 #the abdominal aorta. 「 verse 」 #i am worth twice as much alive. 「 thread 」

[wilddogsdivorce]

as much as i try to not view my body and my self-concept as two completely separate entities somehow conjoined, i probably will never not get weirded out when i'm both feeling AND seeing something move under my skin without my will. why do you feel the need to do that .

#this post has been brought to you by (probably) my abdominal aorta doing its thing

[tchaikovskym]

Realized ultrasound pics have and always will be borderline gibberish unless you're the one making the exam squishing the tissue and looking at how things move

#i made a pic of abdominal aorta and its more like. a wishful thinking in the pic #but i know its there bc there was a pulsation #also breathing changes so much urrghh

[blakbonnet]

Call it morbid curiosity but I've wondered a lot about whether being stabbed on the left really is basically fine and misses all the important organs.

I say this as a med student, who's had their hands in plenty of cadaver abdominal cavities. I've come to the conclusion that you coulllddd probably survive a good few stabbings if they really were truly in the left lower area (the so called left iliac region). You'd miss the spleen, the aorta and the kidney.

Most of what's there is bowel. Perforating it could kill you, as could a buildup of scar tissue causing an obstruction if you survived the perforation. But I mean I think it's do-able? If you're lucky enough.

If you're unlucky you might hit the testicular artery or vein. That could mean bye-bye balls (well, just the left one).

There's also a nice big nerve plexus (massive fuck off cobweb of nerve fibres) coming out of the lower back. Depending on the angle, you could sever a few of those if you ran someone all the way through. That could lead to anything from pins and needles in your toes to total leg numbness or even incontinence.

In conclusion- yeah you might survive it. It deffo isn't harmless though and this makes me sad af bc it's so badass just being able to get stabbed like that :(

What about the exact spot where Ed got stabbed? Is that one of those danger ones or a regular one?

#asks #anonymous #I love this ask and I love you anon

[lunalillyhbhb]

Lea's Home

Chapter 8 pt.2

The twins stand in front of me, eyes darting everywhere, looking scared. My heart starts racing a bit, excited.

"Care to explain yourselves?" I ask, my voice deepening. My eyes flicker to their chests before I can stop myself, noticing the faintly visible carotids bounding in fear.

"Please! You can't tell anyone!

"It's just that exams have been really stressful-"

"-and we haven't had time for each other-"

"We couldn't wait to go back home!"

"Please don't chase us away! We really need these jobs!"

Their voices plead, almost desperate... yet not mentioning the fact that they were kissing each other, like they didn't see anything wrong with that.

"Just how badly do you need this job..." the words escape my mouth very quietly, and immediately they reply in high pitched voices- "We'll do anything, please!"

Anything...... anything. Dangerous words.

"Anything you say...." It's finally time to test my twin theory. Let's see how far this actually goes.

The twins gulp and freeze in place, suddenly realizing the severity of those words. I walk toward them slowly, studying their facial features, their physical structures, their posture. I stand so close in front of them and slowly trace my fingers along their arms, from their wrist to shoulder, feel them shudder under my touch. Each hand slowly makes their way to their carotids, nestling in the nook of their necks. Roughly a steady 95-100 bpm. Slightly out of sync with each other, yet still thumping with the same intensity and vigor. Check out.

I remove my hands and feel the twins breath out a breath they were unconsciously holding in and before they can settle down, i press my hands in gently but firmly on their abdomen, palpating their abdominal pulse. The sudden action jolts shock from them, and their hearts spike almost simultaneously, their aorta pulsing strongly under my fingertips. I trace my way up to their tricuspid point and I almost immediately locate their PMI, so clearly begging for attention..... Attention I will soon give. I allow my hands to cup their breast, hand perfectly encompassing them. Arielle closes her eyes and tilts her head back and a tiny moan escaping her lips, almost like she's starting to enjoy this. Arianna's eyes are squeezed shut, biting her lip. She's trying hard not to loose herself, but I am starting to. I give each one a gentle squeeze and Arielle's knees shake under her.

"Remove your shirts" I order them, and without a second thought they slide it off and throw it aside, eyes looking at me fervently. Their chest in full display, stunningly curvy and voluptuous, held together with matching bras, pink on Arielle and black on Arianna, alluringly call me.

"Kiss each other. Now." They look at me confused. "Do exactly what you were doing before I interrupted." Their faces are painted with uncertainty, but they nonetheless look at each other, both clearly aroused and in desperate need of tending to. The hesitations lasts for only a second before they let their arousal consume them, and they start kissing with passion and heat. I watch them, the way their faces display the same look of lust, the way the red heat lingers on their cheeks and on their ears.

I can't wait any longer. I pull out my stethoscope and push the diaphragm into Arianna, who moans at the sudden cold sensation. Immediately her music fills me, I can hear how clearly her heart yearns for her sister, irregularly beating hard and fast as lust takes over her-

Thump thump thump thumpthump thump thump thump

Arielle feeling left out, unhooks her pink bra and pushes her subtle pink nipple now hard and erect, towards me and I let my tongue explore every area of her. Under my tongue I feel her heart thumping wildly inside her ribcage, impatiently waiting its turn. It's clear my tongue had an effect on her....will it be the same for Arianna?

I hastily unhook Arianna's black bra, letting it fall messily to the floor and start playing with her rock hard nipple, also the same shade of pink as her sister. I twist and pinch with my fingers with my tongue still focused on Arielle, who's heart is racing faster and faster, as if showing me it's potential. As expected, Arianna's heart suddenly spikes, matching pace and intensity as it's sister, both fighting for my attention.

What about inside.......

From her nipples, my hand slips inside Arianna, already a sopping wet mess, and roughly massages her clit in time to her sister's heartbeat, my stethoscope long since abandoned. The second my finger grazes her clit Arianna moans loudly, begging for more. As my finger explores her, I pick up my steth and order her to hold the diaphragm firmly. As I gently rub around, all of a sudden her heart skips and I can feel her so close. So this is her spot. I let my fingers linger in that spot, and slip inside Arielle, fingers sliding in easily with how wet she is. I order her sister to steth Arielle. My fingers make its way to the same spot and again I hear it: that beautiful skip. These twins are alike in every matter, down to the exact spot. Having found both their G spots, I look at their faces and look at how even in this state, panting and a sweaty mess, their aroused face expressions are the same. They look into each other's eyes, almost like I am not in the room. I can't have that. I force my head in-between their breasts, and they instantly understand that I want them to press their hearts into my ears, let their pumps surround me. I increase the pace of my fingers, rubbing harder as I feel their hearts roar as they reach climax. The twins, absolutely lost in the arousal continue kissing each other fervently, squeezing me between their hard working hammers. I feel as their hearts squeeze hard with little time to relax, too busy with being in the moment, fighting desperately for the other. As if they wanted to merge and become one.

In that moment of heat and passion, moans loud and hearts thumping louder, the waves of pleasure take over them at the same time.

Finally, they fall limp against the wall, weak and absolutely satisfied. My hands go back to their tricuspid and I feel as their hearts, once a irregular fluttering mess, slowly stabilize and return to normal. Both synchronized, beating in time to the other.

"You get the job" I add, as steadily as I could manage and the twins beam at me.

"Of course, I will still need to hold a few more tests, if you don't mind".

They look at each other and then to me, nodding eagerly. Looks like twins really are alike in almost every way possible, I guess it wasn't just some movie cliché.

My list of hearts continues to grow.... and yet, the one heart for me is still so far away.

I miss Lea.

#female heartbeat #cardiophile #fast heartbeat #stethoscope #heartbeat fic #cardiophile story #wlw

[tiramegtoons]

“WOoooW,

I CAN HEAR YOUR HEART BEATING FROM DOWN HERE.”

“IT SORT OF SOUNDS LIKE A “THUMP” WITH A “SWOOSH.”

“That could be the abdominal aorta.. and or the one artery I forgot the name of, but it���s on the tip of m-Ehehee-“

“Snaha-atcher..!”

“QUIET NERD, IM TRYING TO LISTEN.”

“Hee-heh- Alright, alright.. fine.”

[Sigh]

Do you ever miss being alive?

“LET’S SEE… HMMMMMMMM..

NOPE.”

“Not even a little?”

“NAH.”

“Well, you seem to enjoy it when I let you borrow my body.”

“WELL UH THAT’S-

“THAT’S DIFFERENT AND COMPLETELY UNRELATED.”

“Sure it is~” /sar

#a nap uwu #oh snatcher you big tsundere #the snatcher ahit #the snatcher #snatcher x self ship #dialogue #sketches #t-t- #I refuse to say the t word #Jdjdjfjfj #man how long can I get away with being this self indulgent #I wonder

[lamaenthel]

You know I wrote this big ass rant about lightsaber stabbies on another post but I deleted it because the OP didn't deserve that level of vitriol, they were just the fiftieth post I'd seen that day whining about Qui-Gon dying and Sabine surviving so I'm just gonna make it it's own post

See this? Do you see where the saber is exiting Qui-Gon's body? QUI-GON JINN DIED BECAUSE MAUL SEVERED HIS FUCKING SPINE, NOT BECAUSE HE GOT STABBED IN THE GUT. The fact that he didn't instantly die is the real mystery here honestly.

Y'all see what is NOT being severed here? Sabine got stabbed in her gallbladder, not her fuckin abdominal aorta.

Now people keep bringing up Reva, too, which is valid tbh! Because the only full view we actually have of her impalement is from the side!

But, if you notice, the light is on only one side of her face. She was stabbed on the left, not through the human power cord. Vader is a petty bitch. He'd want it to be slow for some upstart little shit who thought she could outplay him. It wouldn't surprise me if she died a horrible death in the desert after wandering off the Lars homestead though, unless she found that one dude who can build cyberguts that saved Fennec Shand.

Listen, the abdomen is objectively the most stabbable part of the human body. I am begging all of you to please stop bitching about how it's so wild that Qui-Gon died of a gut stab when everyone one else survived. He didn't die because it was through the gut. He died because it was through the spine.

#qui-gon jinn #reva sevander #sabine wren #darth vader #ahsoka #ahsoka series #sw meta

[mandana-the-service-pup]

I’m just going to ignore how physically grueling yesterday was and get to the point:

Rheumatologist wasn’t interested in ordering the abdominal ultrasound. I was hopeful but not surprised. I’ll have to wait until the end of October to meet with my GI doctor for the first time and go from there. She also thinks it might not be SLE/Lupus but she’s going to leave that as a possible dx bc it opens up more treatment options for me.

The Rheumatologist thinks I’m in too much pain and wants to put me on Methotrexate which is a low dose of chemo once a week. It could be revolutionary for my quality of life but it’s got a lot of side effect so I’m going to have to jump through a bunch of hoops before I can start it.

1) Skin biopsy is at the end of this month. Methotrexate is a risk factor for skin cancer so definitely need to be cleared by the Dermatologist before taking it.

2) GI doctor is at the end of October. Need to check on abdominal aorta stuff but also figure out the stomach pain, nausea and appetite issues I’m already having. Methotrexate mainly causes GI problems so I need to be as stable as possible going into it and have a game plan for dealing with the side effects with my GI Dr.

3) Try to get a handle on the oxygen stuff. I still haven’t received my sleep apnea test so hopefully that will show something. I really need to catch these episodes during a Pulmonologist apt so they can put me on supplemental oxygen to see if that will help. Methotrexate can cause really serious lung problems so I have to be completely cleared by the Pulmonologist before I can start it. She’s also the one who wanted me to look into the abdominal aorta inflammation stuff so idk if she thinks that is having an effect on my oxygen or if it’s just something she thinks I have that needs to be followed up on.

4) Wisdom teeth removal. I’ve been putting it off bc I wanted to get my oxygen more stable, in my situation it’s not super necessary and EDS can make dental procedures difficult due to less effective numbing. The problem now is that Methotrexate can cause mouth sores, makes you immunocompromised and can’t be used with some anasthesia due to increased toxicity. So I need to be stable enough for the surgery but it needs to be done and healed before I can start the medication.

My next Rheumatology apt is in December. I don’t think I can get all of this stuff done (and move!) before then but I guess it’s worth a shot

I also taught myself cross stitch last night and for a cheap sick-in-bed activity it’s not bad 🥲

#bad health day #health flare #doctors appointment #rheumatology #pulmonology #cardiology #gastroenterology #tw healthcare #methotrexate #dysautonomia #postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome #gastroparesis #ehlers danlos syndrome #hashimoto thyroiditis #inflammatory arthritis

[stormyoceans]

losing my mind like. sorry i know i never shut up about dark pete burning the whole mafia world down to save vegas and macau but. i've seriously been losing my mind over it like

give me vegas and macau being late home after vegas went to pick macau up at school on his bike and not answering their phones and pete immediately knowing something is wrong. give me pete calling chay to ask if he saw them actually leave together and then, at chay's affirmative answer, calling arm all business-like: "i need a favor, but you can't tell anyone about it. if you won't help me just say so right away, i don't have time to waste." give me pete asking arm to hack into the security cameras on the way from macau's school to their home and watching all the footages until he spots a van cutting vegas' bike off and then taking vegas and macau away.

give me pete figuring out it's not a ransom situation but a personal vengeance. give me pete manipulating, bribing, maiming, and torturing people, promising them not to kill them if they give him the information he needs and then killing them anyway because whoever was behind this can't know pete is coming and dead men tell no tales. give me kinn and porsche eventually finding out what’s happening and asking pete why he didn’t go to them for help. give me pete answering, cold and detached, ‘frankly, i haven’t ruled out the involvement of the main family in this, yet. nor of the new minor one.’ give me porsche’s indignant ‘ai’pete!’ before trying to stop pete from leaving. give me pete pointing his gun at porsche because yes, porsche is his friend and pete loves him dearly, but that’s pete’s family they’re talking about and no one – NO ONE – is gonna tell pete how he has to go about saving it, if someone was stupid enough to think they could mess with vegas and macau now that they don’t hold the title of heirs of the minor family anymore, well then pete has to show them just how fucking wrong they are and bring them as an example for everyone else.

give me pete finally finding out who’s behind it and where they are keeping vegas and macau and getting ready to bring down an entire building full of people armed only with a gun and a knife. give me pete being smart about it, using stealth and smoke bombs to conceal his attacks, preferring the knife over a gun he would have to reload over and over again, putting into practice his experience as a boxer and all of chan’s teachings: circle around the target rather than move in a straight line; forgo the heart and target the abdominal aorta that sits unguarded at the top of the abdomen at the meeting of the ribs; if the opponent is guarding their vital targets well, strike at less vital areas to make the defender move and then go for the carotid in the neck, the brachial artery in the arm or the radial artery in the forearm, the femoral artery in the leg, the abdomen. give me pete finding macau locked alone in a room and macau not caring about the blood covering pete from head to toes and just hugging him tight because pete really came for them. give me pete handing the gun to macau because there’s no way he’s leaving macau behind and the two of them fighting their way to wherever they’re keeping vegas. give me vegas tied to a chair, half-high with whatever drug they injected in his system to keep him from fighting back, a constellation of cuts and bruises all over his body. give me vegas never seeing something so beautiful as pete, covered in blood and knife in hand, killing the dudes assigned to keep guard to vegas' room and then dropping on his knees in front of vegas to gently cup his face and put their foreheads together.

and the fucker who did this? give me pete dragging him in front of vegas and macau and not killing him right away, but slowly cutting him up and tearing him apart for every wound he can see on the two brothers: a tooth for macau’s split lip, an eye for the bruise blooming on vegas’ cheekbone, all of his fingers for vegas’ broken arm. and then, finally, give me pete bringing vegas and macau home and the three of them piling together in the same bed, holding each other all night, their little family of three that no one is allowed to touch.

#feeling some type of way tonight #who am i kidding i always feel some type of way about them #also i firmly believe pete doesn't enjoy torturing people like vegas does but as soon as someone touches vegas and macau? #well that changed everything #just as 'i will always love and be loyal to the main family' means fuck all to pete as soon as he suspects them #because he will never love or be loyal to someone as much as he is to this little family he found #also when pete finds vegas they obviously kiss too and vegas (even if he's drugged and hurt) is like #'if my little brother weren't in the room with us i'd fuck you right here and now' #and pete laughs and is like 'so macau being present is the only issue you see here? not like.. your general condition? you look like shit' #vegas actually THINKS about it. 'you could ride me' #pete just shakes his head utterly amused. 'i don't think that would satisfy either of us.' #and it's TRUE because what vegas actually wants is to spread pete out on a bed and take his time to worship every inch of pete's body until #pete is a sobbing shivering mess just begging for release #anyway.. #i miss them every day #m: txt #vegaspete

[buckttommy]

Chimney bleeding profusely from an abdomen wound makes me so uneasy. If his abdominal aorta is nicked... jail. Jail for whoever wrote the episode, jail for FOX for airing it, jail for Kenny for being born and becoming an actor and making me experience feelings, just jail for everyone all the way around

#jack.txt #tv: 911 #911 spoilers #911: 06 x 18

[primitiveside]

digital paint over of Malcolm Liepke

#priceforeverything. 「 johns 」 #the abdominal aorta. 「 verse 」 #he's gonna choke him to death i swear (miserably lying) #sweet spot. 「 dynamic: johns and riddick 」

[practically-an-x-man]

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit, c’mere.” and/or “You did so good. Don’t worry, you-you did so good.” with Ophelia? :)

Oooh thank you! Ophelia's great for angst and injuries lol (though she's not the one getting injured this time)

____ Bloodstained

Word Count: 2.1k Content Warnings: graphic injuries, angst ____

Her actuators tangled with the beast, claws locked on tight as it thrashed in her grasp. She felt a little unbalanced, ready to topple - half from sheer exhaustion, half from the brace immobilizing her left knee. Normally, she'd keep one actuator at her side, to steady her. Now, she needed all the help she could get.

"Peter!" she shouted, swearing as the monster in her grasp tried to wrestle free, "I need webs! String him up!"

There was no response but a fierce snarl from the creature caught in her claws. Ophelia grit her teeth, and her actuators shifted their grasp in another effort to immobilize the beast.

"Seriously, Spidey, I need a hand here!" she tried again- and was very nearly whipped across the chest by the beast's great tail as it twisted around. The creature roared, writhing in her grip with renewed fervor. One paw slipped free, and talons drew sparks as they scraped across the metal of her actuator tentacles.

A burst of webbing hit it straight in the face, followed quickly by several more. Within moments, the monster had been immobilized in a sinuous cocoon, and Ophelia disentangled her actuators with a low sigh of relief.

"Sorry I'm late," Peter said from behind her, his voice as joking and familiar as always. Ophelia found herself smiling as she turned to face him.

And then she saw the blood. The way he swayed on his feet. The sharp spear of metal jutting out of his abdomen.

"Shit." she hissed, already launching herself towards him, "Shit, shit, shit, c'mere."

She caught him just as he began to sway. She didn't slow down for an instant. Her actuators clamped down on the ends of that bloody metal blade and cleanly snipped them off, leaving only the piece embedded in his stomach. She didn't dare remove that. If it had managed to nick his abdominal aorta, he could bleed out in less than a minute.

She eased him down to the ground and peeled off his mask, haphazardly tossing it on the ground beside him.

"Ol's-"

"No. I need to see your face." she insisted, her voice coming out sharp and clipped. Peter's eyes were dazed, foggy. More blood streamed down the side of his face, stemming from a cut on the side of his head. Ophelia swore. The amount of blood pooling on his abdomen only grew.

"Take it-" Peter stammered, trying to twist around and steal a glance at the wound on his abdomen, "Take it out."

"I can't. You'll bleed out." she muttered. It wasn't exactly encouraging, but that was the last thing on her mind. Her only focus was keeping him alive.

"Have to. Otherwise I'll just... heal around it."

Shit. He was right. If he started to heal with the spear still embedded, that only meant another, riskier surgery later to remove it.

Her head was spinning. She fought hard to keep her focus. There wasn't a hospital nearby, they were on the wrong side of the city. He wouldn't manage the ride across town - it would be too rough, too tumultuous, might make things worse. So what then?

Remove the spear. Cauterize the wound - not ideal, but better that than bleeding out. Pack the wound. Antibiotics and painkillers. Pray his healing factor held him steady until she could get him back to her lab- closer than the hospital, but still a bumpy ride.

Was that worth the risk?

There wasn't much of an alternative.

Peter's eyes had begun to slip closed, and Ophelia was snapped from her thoughts.

"No, no, Peter, stay awake." she said, cupping the back of his head as if she could physically pull him up to wakefulness again, "I need you to keep your eyes open. Look at me."

"Sleepy." he mumbled, brown eyes drifting lazily over her face. Ophelia swallowed hard.

"That's blood loss. You're not stupid. You know that's blood loss. Stay with me, alright?" she told him, having to force the words out of her throat. Her mouth was dry. "I'll tell you when it's okay to sleep, but not yet, okay?"

"Hm. Okay."

"What the hell happened?" she asked, spurring herself to move as she spoke. She reached around her back and found the handle of a knife, strapped to the backpack-like device that held her actuators. She cut his suit away from the wound in just a few strokes. Peter groaned in protest, but Ophelia paid it no mind. He could make another one.

"Had three arms." Peter muttered, "Didn't notice. Got me good."

"Yeah, he really did..."

With his clothing out of the way, the wound was harsh and ragged, drenched with blood. The spear had gone straight through his stomach, just under the base of his ribcage. It canted ever-so-slightly off to the right, missing his spine by a centimeter at best. Ophelia's hands were already slick with his blood.

"She."

"What?"

"She. 'S a girl."

"Okay, then she got you good." Ophelia agreed, half-distracted as she used her knife to cut strips off the hem of her coat. She could always get another one. She pressed the makeshift bandages into the wound, hoping to clear away a little of the blood. She needed to see what she was working with. Her coat, dark blue, quickly blackened as it was soaked through with blood.

Again she reached around her back with bloodstained fingers, this time finding a vial of cloudy liquid. Her fingers fumbled for a second vial and found nothing but air.

"Shit." she hissed. Peter's eyes cleared, just for a moment, and his eyebrows knit together in concern.

"That bad?"

"I've got the nanobots but not the activator." she explained, quickly scanning the buildings around her. There- a bodega on the corner. They'd have something.

"Hey-" she called out, but stopped herself the moment later. There was nobody around. All the bystanders had fled during the battle. Blessedly silent to protect Peter's identity, but-

But she'd have to leave him. Just for a moment. Nobody else could get her what she needed.

She took hold of Peter's hands, guiding them down to the mess of blood and fabric on his stomach. His skin was cold. It made her wince, panic bubbling up from deep within.

"Press down." she instructed, voice sharp, "Hard. I don't care if it hurts. I'll be back in a second."

"Olly..."

"Just do it, okay?" she insisted, forcing the tremor out of her voice.

"I love you."

"Don't you fucking start with that. You're gonna be fine. Just- just give me a minute."

She pressed his hands into the wound, enough to make him wince and hiss in pain.

"That hard. Push down hard." she said, "Don't be a wuss. It'll only be for a moment."

With that, she pushed herself up from the ground - grimacing at the sudden twinge of pain in her bad knee - and ran for the bodega. Her actuators launched her forward, moving so fast the world blurred in her vision. She crashed straight through the front window, generating a shriek from the woman behind the counter.

"Orange juice!" she blurted, scanning the coolers along the back of the shop, "Vinegar, lemonade- something acidic! Or a man is going to die!"

She was sure it made no sense to the woman running the shop. It didn't matter. One actuator claw slammed through the glass of a cooler and plucked out a single-serve bottle of orange juice. The cooler hissed as cold air escaped, and the shop's owner let out a chain of swears in a language Ophelia didn't understand.

"Denarii will pay the damages." she muttered, already ducking back out the window. Just as she turned to leave, a second claw snatched a cluster of rolled gauze bandages from a basket by the front counter.

Her actuators all but threw her back across the street, and she dropped to the ground at Peter's side once again. His eyes had fallen closed again, his hands resting limp and blood-drenched on his stomach.

"Peter- shit, c'mon, stay with me," Ophelia stammered, feeling a swell of relief when he stirred. He let out a low groan, eyelids fluttering wildly but not opening. Her fingers found the vial again, uncapping it in a single brisk motion.

"Hey, drink this." she instructed, drizzling the cloudy liquid into his mouth.

"Bitter." Peter mumbled, swallowing the liquid with a grimace.

"I know. This'll be better," she responded, twisting off the cap of the orange juice and pouring a generous swallow into his mouth. He almost choked on it, but managed to get it down. His abdomen spasmed, and fresh blood oozed from the wound.

Trusting that the nanobots would begin doing their work, Ophelia returned her attention to the spear still embedded in his body. She pushed the bloodstained fabric away from the wound, then turned to glance at her actuators drifting over her shoulders. By only a thought, one claw opened, and a thin metal rod extended from the center of it. It drifted nearer, a thin line of smoke drifting up from the metal as it continued to heat up.

"This is going to hurt like hell," she warned him, inwardly wincing at the thought. Peter managed a shallow nod, more acknowledgement that he'd heard her than anything else, and Ophelia placed her hands on what remained of the blade. She paused only long enough to take in a single deep breath, steadying her hands, then pulled the foreign body out of his abdomen.

Peter screamed in pain, muscles locking up all down his body. Blood immediately began to well in the wound, flowing concerningly fast. The actuator claw drifted in, pressing that heated rod delicately to the inside of the wound. Smoke rose, along with the nauseating scent of burnt flesh. Ophelia ripped open one of the gauze packs and pressed the bandages to the wound. The blood flow had slowed - hopefully enough.

The wound was long and deep but shockingly thin in diameter. If she peered closely, she could already see the nanobots beginning to do their work, stitching his flesh back together little by little. Peter's breathing had gone tight and shallow, his face covered with a sheen of sweat. Ophelia passed her hand over his forehead, brushing a bit of hair out of his face.

"You're gonna be alright." she assured him - though at this point, it was still more of a hope than a fact. Peter's hands, stained with his own blood, fumbled until he found a loose grip on her arm. Ophelia took his hand and squeezed it once, "Hang in there, babe."

"Hanging in there." he mumbled, a shadow of a smile crossing his face. Ophelia almost returned it, though she was forced to draw her hands back and reach for another roll of gauze. She wasn't finished yet.

She wrapped the wound as well as she could, though she winced at how much blood had already begun to soak through the bandages. But she'd done all she could manage. Everything else was left to Peter's tenacity and a good deal of luck. It was a terrible feeling, having the situation pulled from her hands.

She stayed there with him for a long time, waiting for the nanobots to do their work. She needed to make sure he was stable before she dared to move him to her lab. For a while, she wasn't sure they'd done much of anything. His hands were frigid, trembling, and his breathing was still so horribly shallow. He still hadn't opened his eyes, though the weak grip his fingers had on her was enough to tell her he wasn't fully unconscious.

"Peter," Ophelia whispered, frightened with the silence, "Hey, you still with me?"

"Mm. Still... yeah." he tried, struggling for words. At least it was something. His eyes finally drew open, though they were cloudy and unfocused. A faint grimace fell across his face - though Ophelia noticed that the cut on his temple had begun to clot. Peter shifted slightly, but his pained expression only deepened. "Hurts."

"I know, baby. I'm gonna take care of that too." she promised. She had painkillers back at her lab, as soon as he was stable enough to be moved. Peter managed another loose nod.

"Did I- did I do good?"

She could see him beginning to drift now, sinking back into unconsciousness. She ran her hand over his hair again and felt him lean faintly into the touch. His grip went slack on her arm. It left a bitter taste in her mouth, copper and blood.

"You did- yeah, Pete, you did so good." she stammered, though by now his eyes had fallen closed, "Don't worry, you- you did so good."

#my friends!!! #answered asks #my ocs #ophelia octavius #my writing #catch and release fic #oneshot #ficlet #angst #whump

[macgyvermedical]

Hi hope you’re doing well!

in The Last of Us episode 5, Joel gets stabbed in the gut and immediately pulls the blade out.

Obviously if you get stabbed, the best thing to is leave the weapon in place and get to a hospital immediately, but I’ve heard some people argue that in this circumstance (zombie apocalypse, with enemies pursuing them) that Joel did the right thing, since there was no hospital/surgeon he could go to anyway, and the knife would get in his way if he needed to fight or ride on a horse.

I was wondering what your thoughts on this were because I’ve been thinking about it a lot haha. I don’t think his survival in the show after that stab wound was particularly realistic but, what’s typically the best course of action in such a low resource environment? (I understand you can’t give medical advice obviously)

anyway thanks for your time and have a good day!

The reason you're leaving an impaled object in is because you want to take it out in as controlled an environment as possible.

The most controlled environment, in the case of a gut stabbing, would be a fully staffed operating room with blood products standing by, IV antibiotics hanging, and anesthesia/paralytic agents on board.

The reason for this is that there are a lot of things in the abdomen that can cause severe problems when stabbed. If i'm interpreting the gifsets correctly the stab was in the upper right part of his abdomen. It doesn't look quite high up enough to have hit his liver, but that would be a concern depending on the direction and length of the impaling object. Livers bleed a LOT when stabbed. And pulling a blade out generally does more damage, as well as preventing that blade from putting any pressure directly on the source of the bleeding.

Not only that, but Joel's intestines are probably in the way of the blade as well- they're really packed in there, and it's exceedingly difficult to stab someone without hitting intestine. The intestine, of course, is full of poop. And the sac holding the intestine is otherwise sterile, so if you spill poop into that sac you generally cause a massive, massive infection called peritonitis (the same thing you can die of if your appendix ruptures). Pulling the knife out here would spread the poop around a little more, and again possibly done more damage to the intestine, which also needs to be intact to later digest food.

There is also an aorta, which would have caused Joel's death pretty immediately if stabbed, and some other smaller vessels that he probably could have survived getting severed, assuming they did not serve something he needed later, like a stretch of intestine.

Now, as you mentioned, Joel will never have access to a controlled operating room with trained staff. So while he might be making things worse by pulling out the blade, he know's he's either definitely going to die now because he can't fight/escape or probably die later because of damage that really has already been done, so he chooses the latter, which still gives him the best chance of survival.

Now, his absolute best-luck scenario here is something like this account of low-resource surgery taken from Improvised Medicine by Kenneth V Iserson:

Along with this description of a low-resource abdominal surgery, being sure to flush as much as possible of the poop out of the abdominal cavity with saline as possible- called peritoneal lavage- can help decrease the bacterial load in the abdomen and decrease the risk of sepsis.

Probably the second-best thing he could hope for would be something like the attempt to save Malachai in Alas, Babylon by Pat Frank (fictional prep for an abdominal trauma surgery, but very well described):

[Dan] crawled out and said, "He's in shock and shouldn’t be moved and ought to have a transfusion. But we have to move him if I'm to do anything at all. On what?"

There was a discarded door in the toolhouse. They moved him on that.

They laid Malachai on the billiard table in the gameroom and then massed lamps and candles so that Dan would have light. Dan said, "I have to go into him. Massive internal hemorrhage. I've got to tie it off or there’s no chance at all. How? With what?"

"My hunting knife, the one I shave with? It's sharp as a razor, almost."

"No, Too big, too thick. How about steak knives?"

"Sure, steak knives." The short-bladed steak knives even looked like lancets. The Judge and Randy's mother had bought the set in Denmark on their summer in Europe in 'fifty-four. They were the finest and sharpest steak knives Randy had ever used. He found them in the silver chest and called, "How many?"

"T’wo will do."

From the dining room Helen called, "I've put on water to boil-a big pot." The dinner fire had been going and Helen had piled on fat wood so it roared and Dan would soon have the means of sterilizing his instruments. Randy put them into the pot to boil. After that, at Dan’s direction he put in his fine-nosed fishing pliers. Florence Wechek ran across the road for darning needles. Lib found metal hair clips that would clamp an artery. Randy's six-pound nylon line off the spinning reel would have to do for sutures.

There was enough soap to cleanse Dan's hands. Dan went into the dining room, fretting, waiting for the pot and his instruments to boil. It was hopeless, he knew. In spite of everything they might do sepsis was almost inevitable, but now it was the shock and the hemorrhage he couldn’t lick. He wondered whether it would be possible to rig up a saline solution transfusion. They had the ingredients, salt and water and fire; and somewhere, certainly, rubber tubing. He would not give up Malachai. He wanted to save Malachai, capable, quiet, and strong, more than he had ever wanted to save anybody in his years as a physician. So many people died for nothing. Malachai was dying for something.

In the gameroom Helen was at work, quick and competent. She had found their last bottle of Scotch, except what might remain in Randy's decanter upstairs, and was cleansing the wound with it. Randy and Lib stood beside her. The pool of blood in the round hole ebbed and did not rise again. The water was boiling in the big iron pot when Randy walked into the dining room and touched Dan's shoulder. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm afraid it's all over."

Third best is probably to pack the wound, since sewing or otherwise closing the wound would trap everything inside. Hopefully there's not a ton of damage to the intestines (a couple of very small nicks might scar back together without needing surgery if he was really lucky).

#whump reference #writing reference #abdominal surgery #low resource medicine

[er-cryptid]

Aortic Aneurysm

-- bulging or ballooning of the aorta

-- caused by:

atherosclerosis

hypertension

COPD

smoking

trauma

congenital anomaly

-- commonly found in the abdominal aorta

-- abdominal aortic aneurysm is abbreviated as AAA

-- tends to run in families with Marfan’s Syndrome

-- types:

fusiform

saccular

dissecting

-- may be asymptomatic until it ruptures

#medblr #studyblr #notes #my notes #medical notes #medblr notes #med notes #anatomy and physiology #anatomy #physiology #anatomy notes #physiology notes #biology #biology notes #bio #bio notes #aaa #aaa notes

[askpokeeosin]

Clinical Quiz 8/10

First - Previous - Next- Last

In frame 4, it's specifically the edge where the pulsations start to diminish on both sides. For the record, the normal size (specifically diameter. I apologize if that might not have been clear from the frame) of an abdominal aorta is less than 3.0 cm. Higher than that is considered an aneurysm. This is, of course, the normal size for a Human abdominal aorta.

In regards to aneurysms, most nonmedical people tend to think of aneurysms when they burst. An aneurysm is more of the actual increase in diameter and not the rupture itself. Abdominal Aortic Aneurysms (AAA) are especially bad because if those rupture and the patient is not already in the hospital, survival is close to impossible due to the massive internal bleeding that occurs into the abdominal cavity.

#my little pony #my litte pony friendship is magic #mlp fim #mlp g4 #mlp oc pony #year 1 #pony ask blog #ask pony blog #ask blog #askpokeeosin #based on a true story #medical student #medicine #medical school #earth pony #unicorn

[lunalillyhbhb]

Lea's home

Chapter 3

Tonight was a simple night. After working hard all day both at college as well as in Lea's home, I was exhausted. My heart was pattering fast like the rain, light, quick and steady. I knew just the medicine I needed: Lea. Thankfully, Lea was home early that day.

I run up the stairs in an attempt to make my heart beat stronger but the same light pattering continues, telling me that it only wanted something cozy. A cuddle session, then.

I knock on her door and enter habitually without needing to wait for her approval. I quickly unhook my bra and unbutton the top 3 ones on my maid's uniform and slip into her sofa and dim the lights, letting the day's exhaust take effect on my body. I start to relax, slowly wriggling my toes, loosening my thighs, letting my arms fall and my head plop back into the cushion. From the corner of my consciousness I hear the bathroom door open and a surprised small gasp from Lea. Without saying a word, she opens her drawer, grabs her steth and sits by me, positioning herself between my legs. Placing the earbuds into my ears, she leans into my chest, hear breasts pushing into my torso, and lets out a beautiful sigh. I can feel her own pump reacting in time against my chest, still beating strongly from the hot shower, trying to liven up for me. After finding a comfortable position she finally places the bell on her mitral valve position, knowing it's my favourite spot.

My heart skips a few times, playing alongside hers. I wrap one arm around her head pushing it towards my breast and another around her small waist, and feel her slender frame cuddle up to me. Her head bounces slightly off my chest with my rythm. Her legs straddle me. I feel my heart slowly falling in sync with Lea's and in this moment our hearts beat as one. I am calm. Whole. Content. I breath in her scent.

In a soft gentle voice, she begins talking about her day. I love hearing her talk, especially through the steth. I love hearing her lungs work and find solace in her steady breathing. She trails her fingers along my torso, letting her hand bounce off my pulsating abdominal aorta, and I relish in the feeling it leaves on its trails. I feel her fingers grow itchy, slowly inching towards my boobs. She lingers around my boobs, and stops before going any further. She stops speaking and I know she's waiting for my permission to continue.

I've trained her well. I smile and nod, letting her play with my nipples. I lose myself to the feeling of her long fingers pinching and gently twisting them, making them slightly hard, making my pattering heart skip more. I know she's enjoying this reaction as well.

We stay in this bubble for a while relishing each other's hearts. The day's exhaustion is washed away and I feel recharged for the next day, all thanks to my first muse Lea, who will always hold a special place in my heart, literally. We both call it a day, looking refreshed and ready for bed. As I put my bra back on and button my uniform and straighten out the details, let my fingers lingers a little bit on Lea's apex, and exit her room.

I head to the maid's quarters where my belongings are stored and see Mirin enter in after me, looking tousled up. Tough day for her too I guess.

"Hey Mirin! Rough day huh?" I say off handedly, removing my uniform. I see Mirin sneak a peek at my breasts which I'm sure are still visible from my cuddle session with Lea, but pay it no mind. Non-cardiophiles usually just find my visible heart interesting, and nothing more.

Mirin is a recent recruit, a young blithe 19 year old with a small frame, small enough to fit in a tight hug easily. She seems innocent and naïve, her doe like eyes earnest with the will to do her work thoroughly and eager at any chance to learn. Her small breasts, barely a B cup, aren't able to do much to contain her hard working pump when she's deep in chores, making itself known when she catches small breaks and arches her back while standing. I've seen it cutely pulse away, begging for anyone to notice it. But I'm sure she doesn't think about it that way.

She seems lost in thought, her breathing uneven and in short pants. Her eyes linger longer on me even after I slip my shirt on. That extra attention sort of makes my heart more visible.

Mirin snaps out of her trance and looks at me weirdly, and mumbles a 'yeah...' and makes her way inside the changing room.

Huh. Strange. She's always been friendly with me. I guess today must be a hard day.

I head on home, not realising what I had coming to me soon.

I should've known: Mirin is not who she seems.

#female heartbeat #cardiophile fic #heartbeat fic #wlw #visible heart #fast heartbeat