#and also no food or water. after a while they brought me like 3 saltines and some ice water but I basically also haven't eaten since 3am | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

araiz-zaria · 3 years

Text

The Fantastic Union Four™ — Road Trip AU

n+1st part 👀👀👀

So now three of the fantastic union four™ have to nurse Grant back into sobriety or is it lucidity?. Starting with getting some grocery (for their own meal and whatnot), they still have to figure out how to nurse him exactly. They read information about it on the ponderous volume that is known only as the internet, trying to figure it out, but the more they read, the more confused they feel about it (”...really? just feeding him is enough?” ”...but if he’s still sleeping all the time, do we have to wake him up or something?...” “...but what if he refuses to eat? Do we need to force feed him?” “No other kind of medicine needed??”). Sheridan tells Thomas and Sherman that at any rate, Grant needs to eat something(”...guys, remember that Ulyss hasn’t eaten anything since our last stop at that roadside attraction!”), so they decided to just stick to their initial plan of feeding him once he wakes up. As has also been decided, after having some breakfast they cleaned the car and, afterwards, watch by Grant’s bedside, waiting for him to wake up.

They wait, and wait,

and wait,

and wait...

...and there are a few times where Grant drifts back, almost waking up, only for him to just (sleep)talk drowsily and drifts back into sleep (”Huh, false alarm”). While waiting for him to wake up, Thomas reads the maps and rechecks their route plan again, Sherman paces around in the room, especially after sitting by the bedside for quite a bit. His pacing around is occasionally broken by him responding to messages he got. He almost always replies only when standing up, and that concludes his cycle of twiddling about while watching by the bedside. Sheridan stares worriedly at Grant, and then at Sherman (when he paces around), and then at Thomas, sitting at a small coffee table by the room’s window. He felt bad for inadvertently making things worse for Grant back in the car when they were on the ride (like holding him down just for Grant to wail and flail about), but now there is only one thing they can do...

When lunch time comes they take turn taking lunch while someone stays keeping an eye on Grant. Thomas and Sheridan eat quite a considerable amount for lunch, and after they finished they offer Sherman to have some lunch. Sherman refuses, saying that he isn’t hungry (and he doesn’t really take lunches). Sheridan and Thomas look at each other, Sheridan shrugs, and Thomas taps Sherman on the shoulder, meaning to talk to him about the route plan and other things related to it (so that Sherman could get a break of sorts anyway), while Sheridan sits by the bedside.

They keep watch on Grant until it is close to dinner time (this is around 7 pm), when finally Grant drifts back into waking up, awake enough to have a coherent enough conversation with the other three, even though he is still visibly so drowsy.

Grant: (squinting, gazing on the people sitting by his bedside) “...how come we are not hitting the road again?”

Sherman: “Are you kidding me? We are not leaving until you sober up and eat something.”

Grant: (groans queasily) “...I don’t wanna eat anything...” (turns sideways, trying to get to sleep again)

Sherman: “I say we are not leaving until you eat something!”

Sheridan: “Ulyss, please, you have to eat something. Eating will also help you sober up...”

Grant: (trying to hold off feelings of nausea, curling down) “...Phil, I am not an eater like you are...” (closes his eyes, trying to sleep again)

Thomas: “Ulyss, please, just eat something, even for a little bit. You haven’t eaten anything since we stayed here.”

Sherman: (leans toward Thomas, whispers) “...I say we force feed him some cracker and water...”

Thomas: (sighs) “I guess we have to do that.” (pulls Grant by the shoulder gently towards his own side) “Ulyss, please, you cannot keep on sleeping, it might just make you stay queasy.”

Grant: (heaves a long sigh) “...I...really...don’t...wanna, eat... anything...”

Sherman: (lifting Grant at the shoulder, moving him together with Sheridan on the other side of the bed so that Grant is on a seated position)

Thomas: “Please, Ulyss, just a bite or two, and then you can go back to sleep again...”

Grant: (dejected, sighs) “...alright...”

After seating Grant at the head of the bed, they are able to feed Grant two and a half saltine crackers and a half glass of water. Afterwards Grant goes to sleep again, and the other three feel slightly relieved. That is, until Sheridan asks this...

Sheridan: “Guys, do we need to tell Julia about this?”

Sherman glares at Sheridan for having asked about that, Thomas is slightly startled when that question is brought up (”Huh, yeah...come to think of it...”). Earlier in the afternoon Sherman messaged Ellen about how he is doing on the trip, and he messaged her about Grant’s condition (not something he intended to do, but since he had to explain why he stays at a place longer than he planned, he ended up telling her about it anyway). He also told her in the message not to tell Julia about it (he doesn’t want to cause unnecessary panic, esp. on Julia’s part, since he found out from Ellen that Julia has been fretting about Grant’s emotional wellness on the trip, so he tried to not make Julia go into full-blown panic (so that Grant wouldn’t be so panicky in return, or so he thinks...)), but now that Sheridan has broached on this topic (he planned to just keep Julia out of the loop until Grant is recovered and Grant himself can communicate with her again) and the prolonged recovery situation they are now in, they’d have to eventually tell her about it.

Thomas: “So, who wants to tell her about this?”

Sheridan: “Anybody got her contact?”

Sherman: (lies -- cuts in curtly) “No.”

Sheridan: “So I guess we’d have to get his phone then.”

Thomas: “Sure” (reaches into Grant’s pocket and pulls out his phone) “So who’s gonna call her?”

Shit, Sherman curses in his own mind, now we are really going to tell her about it?!??. Thomas checks the screen, there are notifications on so many unreplied messages from Julia. Oh dear, Thomas mutters inwardly, there are some missed calls too. Thomas is fiddling with the phone notification until it rings. It’s Julia calling.

Sherman: “You take the call!”

Thomas: (side eyes Sherman in a slightly bemused way) “...alright.” (sighs) (takes the call) “...hello?”

Julia: “Oh Ulyss I can finally reach you out... Wait, who is...”

Thomas: “...It’s me, Thomas, George Thomas.”

Julia: “...is anything the matter there? I messaged him but he didn’t reply to me at all, I tried calling him too and still no response... Is Ulyss alright??”

Thomas: “Well, you see, Julia...We had to stop longer at our current place than we planned and it is all because there is something happened to Ulyss...”

Julia: “...oh No! What happened to him??”

Thomas: “Well, he felt slightly unwell, so much so that we couldn’t go on the trip with his current condition.” (stares at Sherman) “Sherman will tell you what is his condition exactly.” (shoves the phone to Sherman)

Sherman: (receives the phone from Thomas) “...uhm hello...yes, it’s me, Sherman... Well Julia, how do I say it...it seems like Ulyss was intoxicated... no, no, not due to alcohol, we don’t drink even a drop on our trip, we are not sure what caused it...that and food poisoning too.”

Julia: “Oh dear, what a dreadful situation! Is he still feeling ill??”

Sherman: “...yes but it seems like he’s on the mend now...”

Julia: “Can I talk to him now?”

Sherman: “He’s currently sleeping, he needs his rest to recover. I’ll tell him to call you right away once he’s recovered and sober enough...”

Julia: “Oh right, sorry, I just realized that. By the way, thank you for taking care of him and to take the call...”

Sherman: “It is no bother to us all.”

Julia: (hangs up)

They all heave a sigh of relief. Now onto keeping a watch on him still, after they all have dinner. As the night goes on they plan to take turns watching by the bedside, but it doesn’t go as they planned because they all insist to keep watch on him. Sherman then realizes that Grant might just continue sleeping anyway, so he decides to go to bed first (though he first offers Thomas to hit the bed first. Thomas declines, says that Sherman can go to sleep first). Sheridan is a bit restless (since he inadvertently drank too much coffee during dinner), and he offers both Sherman and Thomas to take over watching by the bedside. Thomas says that he can still keep a watch too for a bit longer.

Thomas eventually slumps on his chair, dozing off into the dreamland. It is down to just Sheridan keeping watch on Grant. Sherman is on the other bed, lying down sleeping. Sheridan wants to get up from his chair for a bit, going out of the room for a little change of scenery, but now with him the only one left keeping watch on Grant he cannot really do it.

At 3:50 am Sheridan goes to the bathroom to relieve himself. Thinking that it might still take Grant some more time to finally wake up he decides to also go around for a bit of walk after he goes to the bathroom.

After a little walk for fresh air Sheridan goes back into the room to continue watching by Grant’s bedside. To his delight he finds out that Grant has waken up, and now he’s sitting on the coffee table eating some slices of white bread and drinking a glass of water.

Sheridan: “Ulyss, you have waken up! Finally!”

Grant: (shushes Sheridan down, half whispers) “...yeah..” (continues on munching on the white bread sheepishly)

Sheridan: “Hey have it with some jam, we got it for the bread too, you know. Here, strawberry jam.” (slides a jar of strawberry jam to Grant’s side)

Grant: “...sure, Phil.” (takes on the jam and spreads some of it on his new slice of bread) “...never thought I’d feel this hungry after some sleep.”

Sheridan: “...heh, some sleep. You’ve been sleeping for so long too, almost a full day if you really count it I think?? Anyway, this is good news, we can finally continue our trip!” (raises from the chair, walks over to Sherman’s bedside) “Sherman, wake up! We’ve got some good news!”

Grant: (slightly flustered) “Hey, don’t just wake him up like that??”

Sheridan: “So rich of you to say that after such a long slumber...” (shakes Sherman on his shoulder) “...hey Billy..”

Sherman: “...what NOW?” (winces annoyedly at Sheridan)

Sheridan: “Ulyss has just waken up!”

Sherman: “Huh...” (looks over at Grant sitting by the coffee table while still lying on the bed) “...oh there you are Ulyss, finally waking up.” (breathes a sigh of relief, looks at Sheridan again) “What time is it now?”

Sheridan: “...around 4 am I think?”

Sherman: “Hm...still some time until we start driving again.” (looks at Grant again) “Anyhow eat up, Ulyss. That should help you feel better...”

Grant: “...yeah...” (continues munching on the bread)

Sherman: “...and oh, by the way, Julia called while you were sleeping. You should call her back as soon as you can.”

Grant: (startled, gasps) “Julia??!? Oh NO! What did you tell her??”

Sherman: “I told her that you were intoxicated and we took care of you. We also told her not to worry too much. But now that you have finally sobered up, she shouldn’t worry so much anymore I think...”

Grant: (reaches for his phone hurriedly) “...I should really call her!”

Sherman: “Maybe you can just message her for now, it’s still quite early in the morning...”

Grant: “Ah right...I’ll message her first.” (types up a message for Julia quickly) “By the way, thank you Phil, Billy, for taking care of me, and Tommy...” (looks at Thomas slumping off to the side, sleeping on his chair) ”...oh Tommy is sleeping too...”

Sherman: “Don’t mention it. Well, I guess we can start getting ready for another drive now...”

After munching the bread and messaging Julia, Grant receives a call from her -- she talks to him in a frantic tone, almost verging into panic yet again, but Grant is now able to calm her down himself, he tells anything that he could remember from his situation to her (while repeating that he is now feeling completely fine, if slightly hungry). Julia is now finally feeling some relief, and they continue talking for a while. Sherman, not going back to sleep, starts packing up and loading his baggage into the car, and so does Sheridan. While the two are heading out to the car, Thomas wakes up and finds Grant talking on the phone. Thomas feels relieved, and after the call he asks Grant about how he feels (and on where Sherman and Sheridan are). Grant says to him that he feels rather fine now, and offers if he can drive again for the trip. Thomas says that he can just sit back for now -- for this leg of the trip he (Thomas) will start driving first again. Grant feels slightly bad about it (for holding them back during the trip due to him being intoxicated and for not being able to drive right away when they finally start going again). Thomas assures him that he doesn’t need to feel bad about it -- it is the safety of everyone that matters the most (besides, they need to see if he’s really feeling fine now during the car ride before they let Grant drive again). When Sherman and Sheridan enter the room they find Grant talking to Thomas and Sherman says that they can finally start getting ready for the trip again. Thomas agrees, and he tells everyone to get ready.

After an early breakfast they finally set out of the motel and hit the road again...

ーーー to be continued ーーー

#roadtrip au #the saga goes on #the fantastic Union four #writings #this is quite a long one I think #fanfiction #lol #ulysses s grant #william t sherman #george h thomas #philip sheridan #not art #now that has become such a clunky tag #I meant it for the posts that are not my own artwork y'know but yeah...#also I wanted to tack a bit on the drive after their extended stay #but now that it gets this long I guess I'd better write that part separately :p

4 notes · View notes

stonyiscanon · 5 years

Text

Love At Fifth Sight (Tony Stark x Avenger! Reader)

Requested: haha no I’m so sorry for ignoring all the asks in my inbox I’ll reply to them right after this!

Notes: ALL THAT GOOD FLUFF AND ENEMIES TO KINDA LOVERS STUFF. IF YOU ARE LOOKING FOR AN OVERDOSE OF CLICHES YOU’RE IN THE RIGHT PLACE

Words: 2.3k

Warnings: Swearing

Summary: Tony Stark is an asshole. Well, he’s an asshole until he isn’t.

When Steve had introduced you to the whole team, they all seemed nice enough. Wanda waved with a small smile, most people gave you a nod, and a ‘Welcome to the team!’ You were also invited to dinner with them that night, which was nice, considering you had just met them.

Even Clint had poked his head down from the ceiling to say Hi, which scared the shit out of you, but you appreciated it nonetheless, and smiled back up to him. Sam had stopped chasing and screaming at Bucky enough to give a greeting and a smile, then continued running after Bucky, shouting something about how ‘You need to watch where you put down your fucking dumbbells!’

The first time you had met Tony Stark was, pretty memorable, to say the least.

You saw the suit-clad man with his signature glasses and smirk on his face, and immediately identified the man as the infamous Tony Stark.

“Hey, Cap.” He quipped, slapping a hand onto Steve’s shoulder. He also shot you a nod and a charming smile with one of the mundane greetings you already heard thousands of today.

“Tony. You didn’t show up at the briefing yesterday. What’s that about?” Said Steve, clearly annoyed, brushing off Tony’s hand with a roll of his shoulder.

“Oh yeah!” Tony, said calling out, already walking away, not even looking back to address him.

“It was an emergency!” You barely even heard what he said as he skipped up ahead, already escaping from your view as he turned into a corner, waving a goodbye. Steve shook his head, and slightly rolled his eyes, turning back to you, shooting a smile.

“Don’t mind him. That’s just Tony, you’ll learn to live with him. Should we continue?” He carried on with the tour, showing you the gyms, where Thor was training, advising you that when Thor and Wanda were both in the training rooms, it was probably best to stay away. There had been a few ‘incidents’ that he didn’t talk any more about.

Your first impression of Tony Stark was ‘What a lazy, narcissistic dick!’

Okay, so maybe the second time you met Tony Stark, your judgement was just a little clouded. But, in your own defense, the circumstances that you saw him under weren’t the best.

Needless to say, you were not a morning person. But apparently, pretty much all the other avengers were, and this pissed you off more than words could describe. After a few weeks, everyone pretty much learned not to talk, do, or- dare god- smile at you from 5AM-7AM.

The only thing that saved you from insanity was the insanely expensive coffee machine stationed in the kitchen that you rushed to every morning. Tony was never in the kitchen when you were there, and when you asked Bucky about it, he replied with a laugh.

“Tony might hate mornings even more than you. He keeps himself locked up in his room until he’s needed, or when Pepper drags him out of his bed.” He paused, thinking, and continued.

“I don’t think he really ever, um, sleeps.” He left after that, leaving you more confused you were in the first place. One particular morning when you were stabbing the espresso button on the coffee machine with a fork, Tony entered, yawning and rubbing his eyes, grumpily fixing his hair and glaring at everyone.

“Oh, would you stop gaping and looking surprised?” He snapped at everyone. “I can kind of function before 8AM.” Tony looked up, still seeing everyone’s skeptical faces, he muttered, “Okay, fine, my coffee machine broke down.”

He rubbed his hands together, murmuring, “Daddy needs his caffeine.”

Hearing this, the entire team simultaneously rolled their eyes. Wanda stepped inside, smiling at everyone, and almost immediately left when she saw Tony and you.

“Nope. I can’t deal with both of them at 6:30, I’m having breakfast in my room.” Almost five people followed her, grabbing some sort of food and heading back to their rooms.

“Good.” Tony, said, running his hands on his face. “The less the fucking merrier.” He noticed you, still stabbing your fork at the machine, angrily muttering, “Espresso, goddamnit.”

“Sweetheart,” Tony gave you a lazy smirk and nudged your hand. “That’s the latte button.” He took your finger and moved it to the right. “That’s the espresso. Someone’s a little sleep deprived, huh?” He then snatched your mug, and took a sip out of it.

“Well, this works out anyway. I drink lattes in the morning.” You were too stunned to say anything back, so instead opted to glare at him, silent screams coming from your mouth.

“Jerk!” You called after him, as he walked away with your own mug in his hand, calling back,

“I’ve heard that one before, princess!”

You stomped back to your room, espresso be damned, all while muttering, “Coffee thief.” You went back to sleep, forgetting all about your responsibilities, only getting up an hour later when Nat spilled water on your pyjama shirt, screaming at you to get ready for training.

The third time, you have to admit, Tony Stark is kind of tolerable. It was a Friday, and the entire team camped out on the couches in the rec room, all refusing to get up, considering how much the mission before had tired them.

What a sight it was, too. Pepper had already came in three times to try and get them all off their asses, and for the first time, none of the avengers listened, and instead stayed, despite how much everyone was deathly afraid of Pepper, some on the couches, some just sprawled out on the floor, all except Steve, who was trying to give a mission debrief and congratulate everyone, while the others all just threw pillows at him, telling him to ‘Shut the fuck up, Steve’.

Well, everyone except Sam, who was holding an ice pack to his chin, and only managed to shout, ‘Shut the fuck up, Stoob!’

Everyone just spoke quietly to each other, most of them holding ice packs to some part of their body, bandaging up, and for the first time in God knows how long, resting. Eventually Steve gave up too, bandaging up his hands, speaking softly to Bucky.

Tony and you sat in the corner of the rec room, ignoring each other for a while, before Tony spoke up.

“Hey. I bet you can’t throw a piece of carpet lint in Clint’s glass of water.” You narrowed your eyes, before replying. You weren’t going to let Tony Stark, Coffee Thief win a bet against you.

“Watch me.” You glared at him, mirroring his smirk. You scratched off a piece of lint from the carpet next to you, and after only two tries, a little splash, and it popped right into Clint’s mug.

“Fuck you.” Clint said, very well aware of what you had done, but way too tired and lazy to actually do something about it, and just deciding to stay dehydrated. Nat let out a snort and closed her eyes, trying to nap.

“I bet,” You mused, “You can’t throw a piece of cracker in Natasha’s mouth while she’s sleeping.”

“Are you kidding me?” Tony hissed. “She’d end me!” But meeting your competitive smirk, he grumbled and snatched the saltine out of your hand. He spent almost a minute trying to aim for Nat’s mouth, finding the best moment to shoot. You were almost going to tell him to admit defeat, but after just three tries, he hit a piece of cracker straight into her mouth.

Tony scrambled behind you right after, hiding from Nat. But she apparently, was also too tired to do anything just yet, but she chewed and swallowed the saltine that landed in her mouth, giving Tony the best death glare she had produced in years, as he sheepishly smiled back.

“I thought you might be hungry.” Tony said in a small voice.

Then she took a pillow and threw it at Tony’s head.

“Ow!” He said, grumbling and rubbing his head. “How the fuck did you throw a pillow so hard?” She shrugged and went back to sleep as you laughed your ass off, watching Tony eventually smile too.

You also watched him hiding from Nat when she woke up from her nap and regained her strength. He managed to evade her for just about 3 minutes before she pelted him with hard candies to the best of her ability, playfully slapping you every time you brought up the fact that he just had his ass kicked by milk duds.

Okay, so maybe Tony Stark is a little more than kind of tolerable.

The fourth time you interacted with Tony, he was drunk. So, maybe this didn’t count as an actual interaction, but you had talked, so this counted in your book.

He was hosting one of those charity galas again, sometime in the weekend, where everyone got all dolled up and made small talk with other rich people. How stupid, you had thought. So, naturally, because you refused to go to this one, Wanda had dragged you to your wardrobe, thrusted you a dress, and told you to meet her outside.

Sometimes, you hate your teammates.

You moped your way downstairs, where Wanda and Nat both looped an arm on either side of your body, pulling you inside the massive ballroom. After you greeted some people, danced with Thor, and absolutely slaughtered Steve in three games of poker, you were absolutely done for that night.

You grumbled, snatching those incredibly tight, scratchy heels off and dumping them God knows where, and threw yourself face down on the covers, until you heard rustling and giggling from outside.

You only knew one person who giggled like that.

“Go away, Tony!”

“Ooh,” You heard from outside. “First name basis.” He said in a sing-song voice, his words slightly slurred. You furrowed your brows as you peeked up from your pillow and dragged yourself to the door.

Sure enough, a very giggly Tony stood, the smell of vodka fresh on his breath, and he was holding some sort of alcohol in his cup.

“You’re drunk.”

“And you aren’t? Pshhhht.”

“Tony,” You said, rather annoyed. “I just want to go to bed, Tony. Want me to call Rhodey?”

“Nuuuuu.” He said, hiccupping.

And as you started to close your bedroom door, he stopped it with his arm, smiling sheepishly at you.

“Wait! Wait, wait, wait. I’m sorry.”

“For what? Other than knocking at your door at midnight for no apparent reason?”

“Oh, yes, that too, I suppose.” He said, thinking hard. “And I just wanted to see you, princess. But, I’m sorry. You know, for stealing your coffee mug that morning. I’m not really that much of a dick, I promise.”

You softened a little bit. How sweet. You knew almost no men who would actually apologize for something that was their fault. Although, maybe it was just the vodka speaking, but you swooned nevertheless.

“A gentleman never leaves a door without properly saying goodbye to his lady.” He announced with a dazed look on his face, finger in the air. You were just about to ask what he meant by that, but you were too scared to say anything without stuttering when he pressed a small, chaste kiss on your cheek.

Clearly he couldn’t see how your cheeks flushed in the darkness, thank Christ. Oh god, no. It’s just a friendly kiss. Brotherly. Besides, he’s drunk. Then you began wondering when the hell you started caring about how Tony Stark saw you.

Almost tripping over himself, he waved his hand and left without saying a word. Checking to see if anybody saw that, you looked back and forth in the hallway to find nothing, shut the door, and squealed.

How cute.

Wait, no.

Rolling your eyes, you went to bed.

The fifth time was quite special indeed. Tony approached you after lunch, holding up some Star Wars movie as a peace offering. Something about his protégé begging him to watch it.

“Sorry about last night, by the way.” He said, in between mouthfuls of popcorn. You froze. Did he regret anything? He probably saw me blush. He probably thinks I’m a fool, oh my gosh. He’s probably going to tell me how he didn’t mean what he did. Oh my gosh, do I like Tony Stark?

Everything was moving way too fast. You had pretty much only met the man, and he hated him, and now suddenly you were ready to start a family? That made no sense at all. You’re just not thinking straight. You told yourself. You’re confused. You reassured yourself.

“Showing up at your door, drunk, unannounced, in the middle of the night, that was really rude.”

“Oh,” You said, a bit relieved, and just a bit disappointed. “It’s alright, Tony. You were drunk anyway.”

“Yeah,” He said, also sounding relieved. “Hey, um, I didn’t do anything weird in front of you that night? Like, anything I’d be embarrassed about?” He asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

“No,” You said, chuckling, “Since when have you cared about what people think of you, Tony?”

“Since I met you.” He replied popping popcorn into his mouth.

You frowned. “Why?”

“Because- you’re smart, beautiful, clever, and funny, and you get my humor.” He said that like it was nothing, shrugging it off nonchalantly, eyes glued to the TV screen, occasionally throwing kernels at this one green dude on the screen, acting as if nothing had happened just now.

And you stared at him for just a little bit before looking back at the screen, pretending to pay attention.

Did he just say that? That I’m beautiful? Oh my Jesus Christ. How is he acting like nothing’s happened? Am I dreaming?

Oh, God, you realized. You like Tony Stark.

A few inches away, Tony panicked the same way you had.

220 notes · View notes

maelaola · 4 years

Text

Away and Under the Weather: Part 3

This is it. My final and, in my opinion, WORST illness-related experience abroad. It actually involves a few different illnesses and was spread out over at least a month. It was painful, exhausting, and just bizarre. Enjoy! #1 It started with the flu... It started with the flu. Nothing special, just the flu. When you live in another country AND work with children, you're going to get sick now and then. It was around this time of year (April) in 2007. I don't even remember how bad a flu it was. I probably had a fever, some body aches and a runny nose. That's usually what I get. I taught lessons through it (as usual) and it was over. I didn't need to go to the doctor until later. The flu ended but the crap in my lungs never really went away. After a week or two of wheezing and coughing, I went to get checked out. At the hospital, I was shown around by my own English-speaking nurse to see two specialists and got an x-ray of my lungs. It cost less than US$50. (I miss Korea.) I had acute bronchitis. The flu had slightly inflamed my bronchial tubes and there was a little infection. They gave me antibiotics, pain pills, something for the mucus, and anti-inflammatory medicine. Getting treated in Korea by western medicine is different than at home. Korean hospitals also treated people using eastern medicine and I took advantage of that more after this experience. Eastern medicine is about treating the delicate balance that exists in your body and allowing your body to function at its peak potential. Western medicine works more like a band aid. You're hurt here; fix here. Western medicine in Korea takes this metaphor even further. Sick? In pain? Appendages double in size? Okay! What can we do to patch you up and get you back to work? On top of that, we really do blindly trust doctors a lot. Which is fine for the complicated stuff. But in Korea, you barely even know what medicine you're taking. They give me the list but there's a lot on there and it's hard to tell the pills apart. They prepare all the pills for you and separate them by dose in these long strips of vacuum sealed plastic baggies. Swallow the cocktail and get back to work. No need to wait for the effects to kick in. I can tell you that I took my first baggie on a Wednesday night or Thursday morning. I remember that because by Friday I was calling the nurse and taking the only sick leave I ever took in 3 years in Korea. I felt a little off on Thursday. Not sick, just off. So it took me (and my head teacher/neighbor who was walking home with me) completely by surprise when I randomly puked on the street Thursday night. I barely made it to the storm drain let alone even thinking about trying to find a toilet. Living abroad, I've had my share of food poisonings so the idea that my body was rejecting something was not foreign to me. But there was no food. It was like a hangover without the bliss of being an idiot the night before. Since it wasn't food, I assumed pills and called the nurse. I stopped taking all of them since I didn't know which was which in my poison cocktail. I didn't feel any better the next day as I started to have stomach problems come out the other end. Great. And remember how I couldn't have sick days? That was especially true my first year when our numbers were already small and there were teachers fleeing the country in the middle of the night every other week. Fortunately, though, through some luck--and a lot of pity from my head teacher and principal who watched me try to teach my 4pm-7pm elementary class from a chair when I wasn't running to the bathroom--my head teacher had her second three-hour slot free and taught my 7pm-10pm middle school class. So I went home and proceeded to have my worst weekend ever. I was supposed to be at a wedding. Instead, every three hours (like clockwork!) I crawled the three feet from my bed to the bathroom and then tried crawl back, dragging what was left of my tattered stomach on the floor. Eventually that was too much and I brought a pillow and blanket into the bathroom to sleep on the floor in between sessions. I didn't leave the house until Sunday afternoon. I limped across the street to get some saltines and electrolytes with some hope that I would be better before Monday. And, surprisingly, I was. My stomach was convinced everything was out that it didn't like and it stopped trying to kill me. On Monday, I was exhausted, soar, and really cranky but I was mobile enough to go down the hill to my work. I settled in my chair to be a white-faced, native speaker in front of 15 Korean kids for 6 hours. The kids were extra nice and the next few days went fine. Although, it still amazes me that the kids never viewed this behavior as strange. I could not stand most of the time and could barely speak but I was still there. Even now in Hong Kong, I often teach while wearing a doctor's mask when I have a cough or runny nose, and I have some kids come to EVERY class in a mask. Sick? Wrap it, cover it up, take a pill. But do it at work. In this case though, the pills were the problem. I talked to my mom on Skype later and she told me that it was probably the anti-inflammatory medicine. She used to work for a doctor and patients often called and complained of stomach problems when the doctor prescribed anti-inflammatory medicine. So that was it. The weekend was more than enough to learn my lesson. The body is connected, beware of pills, listen to your mother, work somewhere with sick days, bla, bla, bla... Teacher, finishee?? Anio. I got better and started to regale my friends with gross stories of the worst weekend ever. Around midweek, I decided that I was better enough to not cancel my rafting trip for the coming weekend. It was rafting in Korea, after all, which is only slightly more intense than floating down a lazy-river. It was mostly an excuse to drink somewhere else and also to watch a traditional Korean mask performance. Rafting was scheduled for Sunday so we watched the mask dance on Saturday. It was in a very cool theatre-in-the-round, and--despite not understanding a word they were saying--it was really funny! There was an ajumma character which is always a riot and at one point a guy pretended to cut off the fake bull's penis. It was an outdoor theater, and it was really hot, so most people sat in the shaded section. About 30 of us came on the trip and showed up late so a few of us sat in the sun so we could watch from the front row. It was really bright when I first stared down at my feet so I just thought I was seeing things. They felt a little strange and warm, but so did the rest of me. And I was wearing larger flip-flops so I wasn't uncomfortable. I felt a little stupid but I turned to my friend and said it anyway, "Do my feet look bigger to you?" I'm not sure if she could see or if she was just a little worried about the question I just asked but we needed a closer look. We walked around the edge of the seating and went outside to where it was shaded and we could see better. And there they were: cankles. I grew cankles in an afternoon! There was a weird fluster next as three of my friends and I tried to figure out what to do for a case of instant-fat-feet. I lay down on the ground and elevated them, someone put a cold water bottle on them, but mostly we just poked them a lot as if we were suddenly going to able to diagnose the problem. I freaked out for a while as they seemed to get bigger in the heat. Fortunately, they grew to certain size and stopped. They didn't hurt and I could walk. I didn't go to a doctor because I was where I usually was when stuff like this happens: in a village in a foreign country. The play ended and after some shopping we all got on the buses to go back to the place we were staying. A few more people got to see my exciting new development. Most of the theories tossed around that day had to do with the bus going up and down the hills and something with altitude. I kept them elevated and took some allergy pills or something. I even went rafting the next day. (Seriously, easy rafting.) I just kept showing people my fat feet hoping someone could tell me what was happening to me. Monday I went to work, fat feet and all. I got a kick out of freaking out the kids with my cankles. (It actually freaked out the other teachers and staff more.) They were still there a week later when my parents arrived in Korea. I'm sure it was a great sight for my mother, who hadn't seen me in nine months. Because that's what you want to see when your oldest child is all alone for the first time and on the other side of the world. That she's becoming deformed. My dad made me sleep in his special airplane socks that are supposed to give you even circulation and they started to really go down. Mom cleaned my apartment which was not in an acceptable state (is it ever?). I took my first real vacation since I arrived in Korea and relaxed in Jeju-do. It took some time but they went back to normal and I was all better. Finally, we sat down together with the Internet and tried to figure out why my feet blew up. (Mom is an experienced hiker and didn't buy the 'altitude' theory.) And there, at the bottom of the list, on some medical website under possible causes for swollen feet it said, "...may be caused by anti-inflammatory medicine." So that was it. I got the flu which gave me bronchitis that led to the worst weekend of my life followed by one of the weirdest. The lesson for all this is very simple and not at all original: Stuff happens. I did what I was supposed to. I was sick so I went to the doctor. Usually that's the end. Take the pills, drink some liquids, all better. Only this time the pills poisoned me, my stomach tried to kill me, and my feet doubled in size. The good experience that came out of this was that the next time I was sick, I was really willing to try acupuncture and Korean traditional medicine. Also, I try not to suck down pills like candy. My feet are big enough already. Unfortunately, I know this is not the end. Despite Hong Kong being more western than Korea and having more resources than Buenos Aires, I know it will happen again. You get sick, you fall down; drink your fluids, pick yourself up. It's just different when you don't speak the language.

**********

Again, this is old content I wrote about nearly 10 years ago for another blog (http://laurabusan.blogspot.com/). It’s time I start writing again and bringing everything together.

#cultureshock korea teachingabroad funnyillness

9 notes · View notes

gallbladderrecovery · 4 years

Text

Day of surgery!

I realized with my last post I probably should have put a break in. O well. Here’s what the day of the surgery was like. I’m likely to write a separate post about the first night because the first night was rough. I won’t lie about that.

So my surgery was scheduled at noon. This makes having no food or fluids before surgery not particularly easy. Luckily the nurse giving me some pre-op info said I had to have clear liquids after like 3 am and a hard stop on everything at 7-ish AM. That’s not so bad. Especially since I normally wake up at 5:30-6 for work. Per the normal I got up at like 5, took my omeprazole (ODT, so on water needed) I debated having a drink, but was doing ok. I never fell back asleep, which might have helped me. I was just really tired and everything felt surreal.

10 AM my dad picked me up, dropped off a bag with my sister (I would be staying with her for 2 days), visited with my mom and aunt for a little bit, went to the surgery center. Because of COVID, my dad was not allowed to stay in the building. Correction, he could stay in the office reception area with me until I went back, but couldn’t not go back with me. So he just dropped me off. I’ll be honest that I’m kind of glad the ones to see me wake up were medical staff only. If anyone I guess is curious, I was wearing loose-ish yoga pants, a tunic-style tank top, and a off the shoulder light sweatshirt over that. No bra because I wasn’t sure how high cut below the bust would be and I didn’t want anything causing problems. I was a little concerned about underwear because one of the incisions is at the belly button, and that’s where my pants sit. For the record, I did not have a single issue with that incision site. Glad I didn’t wear a bra because it would just be a pain. The incision under the bust is probably 2-3 finger widths below where my bra would sit, but you are swollen. So one less thing to worry about or put on while still having anesthesia wear off.

Here’s where I’m going to start possibly discussing all the things you might not want to know, and that will include menstruation because yeah. Of course that started day of surgery. (Why not?) But this is also really key in part of my recovery too. I’m not at all ashamed of my body functioning the way that it is supposed to, but if it’s something that makes you uncomfortable, you won’t like me. :)

I get there, meet the nurse, meet everyone else, you have to confirmed with every single person why you’re there because surgery for the wrong things happen. This helps make sure you know the staff has the right person and that you actually know why you’re there. It’s still weird to say with every person I’m here to get rid of my gallbladder.

My meeting with the anesthesiologist was interesting, but very assuring. I’ll tell you why: the only surgery I’ve ever had was to have my wisdom teeth removed. I was put under, but I woke up in the middle of it while they were drilling. That was scary. I also woke up absolutely sobbing after oral surgery not because I was in pain, but I tend to hold my stress in and sobbing is just one way I release that. This is also to reassure anyone who wakes up crying, that’s ok. The medical staff if used to it. The anesthesiologist assured me I would not wake up in the middle because I would be completely out just in case I had a little trauma from oral surgery. The anesthesia is different, but it was still something in the back of my head. She also confirmed that waking up and having a sort of let down of tears is normal. Please believe me it is. Especially if you’re a tension crier. lol I’m one of those that gets so angry I cry. Again, it’s not because I was in pain, but it was 100% just a release of tension.

So because my period had started that day, I wasn’t too worried about bleeding all over the place, but I let the nurse know because you should always be upfront with the medical staff. The only down side was that I could not have anything inserted during surgery. It made sense. They just put some pads down under me just in case (and again, good to let the medical staff know just in case they see blood). The weird part was the solution was just to use one of those bulky bulky pads and just let my thighs hold it in place. Again. First day. Wasn’t worried, but whatever makes life easier on everyone.

I get the IV hooked up, chat with everyone some more. Yes, I’m here to have my GB removed, etc. That weird like air-filled blanket was so nice and warm. They start the IV and start to wheel me down the hall. I mention that it kind of stings, and I’m out before we get to the OR.

Now for all the “fun” parts of post-op!

All the disclaimers: by no means do I wish to scare anyone. I had plenty of people tell me I’ll be fine within 3 days (not true), or the sore throat is worse than the incisions, I’ll be able to eat whatever I want within a day of surgery, etc. Please understand it’s still major surgery. They’re cutting through your abdominal muscles. It will take time to heal. Do NOT compare your healing to others. I had one friend run a half marathon 10 days after surgery, I had another friend not be able to eat much beyond bland foods for the first month or two. Again: DO NOT compare how you’re healing with others. Look for support, advice, but try not to get frustrated that day 5 post op you’re still in pain. It’s ok. It’s still major surgery. Take yourself to a limit or just before that limit, then stop. Check every now and then if that limit is more. Don’t punish yourself for not healing fast enough, well enough, etc. Just stop it. :)

I woke up from surgery. The whole surgery took about 40 minutes. I’m drifting in and out of sleep, but I’m nauseated as effffffff. My stomach also hurts and burns. Worst pain ever? I’m not sure, but it definitely hurt. I’m not sure if the first words I said were I’m nauseous, but it was pretty much one of the first things I was really aware of besides the pain. The nurse put an ice pack on my side, they gave me pain meds, but it didn’t really do what I wanted it to do. I was still in pain. I did end up crying a little. Not the giant sobs like after oral surgery. I also remember the nurse asking me if I knew someone named Kris while I was still waking up. Apparently she knew my aunt. I don’t have a common last name. One day I’ll remember to tell me aunt...oops. lol Aaaanyway. So I’m still in pain, I’m involuntarily shivering, and the nurse tells me that I should take the oral pain meds because it will last longer. Side note: I am absolutely horrible at taking pills. I can’t without food. If my brain knows there’s a pill I find it and half the time end up biting them. I’ve gotten better, but still. They give me a pill for pain, one of those little cans of ginger ale and saltines. My mouth is dry AF. My throat does not hurt (never did), but I’m a little dry and scratching from the oxygen tube. You cannot swallow saltines or similar crackers with NO moisture in your mouth. Don’t even try. But with a swish of ginger ale, it’s ok. Still not the pain relief, but I did notice that the two little saltines did help with the nausea a bit.

Eventually the nurses switch, the surgeon comes in stating it was a success and good thing we got that GB out because it had a few stones in it (understatement I would later find, but I was also still feeling the anesthesia, so I understand keeping the conversation short and to the point lol), blah blah. Eventually the new nurse takes me for a small walk around the wing. That was painful. I swore a few times, but moving is necessary and it did help. It brought a little more color to my face. She was great. She kept reminding me, I have two hands and two arms. Use them. Once around the block was plenty for me, I did feel a little dizzy and nauseated, but again. As painful as it was, it was necessary to move. It continues to be necessary to move. I wake up more, my sister is called, she picks me up, we go get my drugs. My sister has all the discharge stuff, she’s supposed to make me get up every hour, no drugs until this time, etc. I was also just SO tired on top of being sore. I shuffle around the pharmacy slowly, look at my sister and say I’m going to vomit. It kinda scared the lady next to us, I saw the look on her face. Poor thing lol. I do not vomit, but we get my drugs and run into one family member in the parking lot. I did not want to talk to anyone. I just wanted to sit in a chair or lay in bed and not get up.

We get home, my nephew is 2 and very mad he can’t sit in my lap. I’m pretty aware of my surroundings, I got up from the recliner a few times, I eat a few oyster crackers for dinner so I can take my pain meds, and eventually, and VERY slowly, go upstairs to bed. Yeah, that’s a separate post. lol I was ok as long as I wasn’t moving because you’re body gets stuck in this, as long as you don’t move we’ll make this work mode. But again, moving is important.

I’ll post about my first night later. Again, this isn’t to scare people, but it’s what happened to me. As “easy” of a surgery this was, it’s still a road to healing. It’s still surgery. Multiple incision sites in your abdomen. Be kind to yourself.

#gallbladder #get rid of that gallbladder #gallbladder surgery #surgery #post surgery #day of surgery

0 notes

scottrunsultras · 7 years

Text

Leadville 100 post-mortem

This is the email I sent to my coaches this morning. They wanted me to describe in detail everything I ate starting with the pre-race dinner to try to figure out how to not let this happen again. I know what I did wrong.

I'm pretty pissed off right now. As I replay everything in my head I can see all of the warning signs that I ignored.

Pre race dinner was chicken tacos, chips, salsa, guac. This was at about 5:00 pm. I think I had a chocolate chip cookie a couple of hours later. I ate two cinnamon crunch bagels the morning of the race. This has been my traditional pre-race meal for like 4-5 years. It's like 900 calories. I ran the first leg pretty fast and it was dark the entire time. So I didn't eat much. I had 1 honey stinger waffle in the two hours. But my breakfast was huge so it probably didn't matter. Didn't eat at the aid station. I had half a pb&j on the colorado trail section of the next leg. I had another half somewhere in that leg. Probably enough food. Again I don't think I really ate anything at the Outward Bound aid station. I had half of a bagel in the early part of the next leg and another half of a pb&j somewhere around half pipe i think.

I don't remember the timing of any of this. I think I had some watermelon at half pipe and every aid station after that. but no real aid station food. At some point before hope pass I choked down a clif bar and a z bar. I had probably 4 salt tablets by the top of hope pass. I think I had about 5 gu's total, 4 of them between Twin Lakes and Winfield. I had 3 on me at ate one at Hopeless. I ate my last gu at around mile 47.

I knew I was off target at the top of Hope Pass. And I was going to get some raman at Hopeless, but they were mixing it with mashed potatoes and that sounded awful. So I just kept pushing. I started bonking somewhat around 47 or 48 but I felt like I wouldn't be able to choke down anything I was carrying and I was out of gu. So I just pushed to Winfield and figured I'd take a break there to eat. So I sat with my crew, ate some cold pizza and drank a bottle of pink lemonade. I had my wife stuff my pack with gu since that was all I'd been able to eat in the last 4 hours. My stomach didn't feel horrible, but I definitely didn't want to eat. But my pacer forced me to try a gu after about 45-60 minutes. The second it touched my tongue I started puking. First time I'd ever puked in a race, but I figured it wasn't that uncommon. So I ate a bunch of cheddar sun chips (not actually a bunch, maybe 100 calories total) while my stomach was better from puking and kept pushing. But I was bonking pretty hard at this point. I tried to run a couple of flats and immediately got nauseous. So I kept power hiking. Once I got to the climb it was pretty much over. I was super nauseous and any time my heart rate spiked it got worse. So on the 20%+ first mile of the climb, I was basically going 50 feet at a time and then having to lean against a tree to keep from puking. I didn't have my watch on me anymore at that point but I'm sure it took at least an hour and a half to do that first mile. My pacer gave me some chews after a while of this. Again, as soon as they touched my tongue I puked. But I figured that was coming so I held onto them and forced them down after I stopped puking. The sweepers coming south came by as I was throwing up and gave me a waffle and watermelon. I ate all of that and forced my way to the top of the pass. I sat at hopeless for a while eating broth and trying to force down raman and saltines. By this time my race was over unless I had a miracle turnaround. But I puked it all up again about a quarter mile down the trail. At that point I knew I was done and I stopped trying to eat. I kept trying to occasionally drink water, but puked that up about half way down the climb. Then I stopped trying to drink water. I was honestly pretty afraid of hypothermia crossing the river at 10:00 pm. One of my pacers brought jackets and blankets to the other side of the river for us. I puked again about 100 meters from the trailhead in Twin Lakes.

I had sprite and flat coke at Twin Lakes after I dropped and the medics did some half-assed check of me and told me I was generally okay. I puked all of that up again on the way to get my drop bag from may queen. I didn't bother trying to eat or drink again until the next morning. Looking back it's pretty obvious what went wrong. I was super focused on this. I was barely noticing time passing and wasn't sticking to an eating schedule. And you may remember me telling you a little while back that none of the things that I used to like while running sounded good to me anymore. Well, that was the case on Saturday. Literally nothing that I had on me and nothing at the aid stations looked good. Maybe it was some combination of the altitude and the effort level. My running consistency was terrible, but I was hiking fast. Even when I was bonking I was hiking miles in the teens. Even now I can't think of anything that I could have brought that I could have eaten more consistently. But what I should have done is sacrificed a few extra minutes at the aid stations and just forced down a couple of hours worth of food. Especially at Twin Lakes and Hopeless. I let things get away from me during the hardest part of the race. If I had some easy section to slow walk while I ate I may have been able to pull it back together. But Being in the middle of the climb back up the pass... My ankle held up fine. My right achilles hurts a lot now, but didn't slow me down at all in the race. My taping strategy worked great for blisters. My muscles were mostly fine even after going 8 hours without any food or water. My running ability was disappointing. Even minor hills were too much for me up there after 20 miles. But I had total confidence that i could fast hike/easy jog flats and downhills well into the night. I could have averaged 22 minute miles on the back half and made it under the cutoff. I obviously wasn't physically prepared for a sub-25:00. There still seems to be a huge gap between people that are actually good at this and where I am. But I know I could have finished. I don't know what to do at this point. I told my pacers and my wife that I was retiring while I was sulking back to the car. Then the next morning I looked to see if RRR was full. It's not, but that's probably way too much for me. I always joke about javalina being a junk 100 miler, but we were planning on going back to Tucson for homecoming that weekend anyway so now I'm having thoughts that my wife will probably kill me for. I hate to waste all of the training that I've done - it was hard to pull all of that together in the midst of all of my other responsibilities. And it's going to be hard to justify doing it again knowing what it took. I also hate to keep limping around on a bad ankle.

I don't know, maybe I need a few more days to progress through the stages of grief. But I feel like it's going to eat at me forever if I don't go back and finish this. I wouldn't have done this if it were easy and I definitely wouldn't have done it if success were guaranteed. But I still feel like this is the grandest failure of my life. My previous DNF I didn't care about because the race was stupid and I didn't want to do it. But I really wanted this. I guess not enough to eat on a proper schedule. I think I transitioned from anger all the way to depression in the process of writing this.

#Runner #running #runblr #runblog #ultra running #Leadville 100 #dnf

19 notes · View notes

victoryzen · 7 years

Text

Bug, Indeed

Ok turns out I've got a little stomach bug- I am very glad I scrubbed the toilet earlier tonight- was not anticipating this. Wiped down sink, counter, and toilet again w/ handy dandy Lysol wipes. Brushed teeth, splashed a bit of water on my face to refresh myself. A slice of dry toast, nibbled slowly; sipping cup of ice water. Took a Zofran anti nausea pill awhile ago leftover from an illness a few months ago. Glad I kept them. Interesting how my thoughts run before/ during a stomach flu for me. I noticed in the early/mid-2000s that I usually "see" (in my mind's eye) either dark spots in my energy field like those on a leopard, and/or I feel overwhelmed/attacked by negative, dark, chaotic forces - which feels like trying to stave off a dark wave 🌊 Closer to a physical manifestation of the illness (vomiting), I feel overwhelmed by disruptions in my internal narrative/s, and my cognitive ability to think becomes choppy & disjointed - this intensifies until my consciousness is necessarily shifted to an awareness of my body, and nausea can often be calmed then with relaxing, gentle/ measured breathing, until I can lay down and rest ,and hopefully allow my body & spirit to mend while I sleep. If, however, I get a particular sensation under my tongue & along the sides of it, I simply head to the bathroom or, etc., knowing the outcome is inevitable, and allow my body to purge what ails it. Often, like tonight, I feel better for 20 mins or an hour or more after, which gives me the chance to clean, disinfect, & set up on the bed, couch or wherever I'm planning to rest for the illness' duration, iPhone 📱, charging cable, ice water, any meds, saltines, etc. What a godsend. When I am sufficiently tuned in to my internal awareness, I can (& do) often avoid illnesses when I begin to see the dark leopard spots around the edge of my energy field in my mind's eye. Emergen-C, water, good rest, healthy foods, fresh fruit 🍉, sunlight and/or strolls / light walks, fresh air, avoiding stress, cleaning & disinfecting my environment all contribute to strengthening my immune system and fending off illness. Prayer helps me a lot. I visited a friend in the hospital on Monday- if I picked up a bug there, that would suck. (She is recovering from a stroke.) I also went to the grocery store last night - WinCo - so could've picked something up there. Not sure how long flus take to go from exposure/transfer to a vulnerable individual to experiencing symptoms... I felt a bit on the edge for a couple days- yesterday (Thurs) & the day before (Weds) now that I think of it. Wednesday I figured I'd just been alone in my house too long so I dropped by my mother's- she ended up heating up some dinner & D dropped by, my big sis, and we three enjoyed a nice impromptu visit & Mom's delicious healthy dinner. It was later that I went to WinCo. Still had a healthy appetite then & Thursday morning but I do recall thinking how great fresh fruit would be- I'd turned down watermelon 🍉 at Mom's since I was full. Only brought enough money to the store to purchase specific items, not including fruit or Outshine frozen fruit bars yum 👅 which were on sale there for like $3 ($6 full price). I regret that now- turning down watermelon 🍉 and not buying fruit & Outshine bars - one of which would be so yummy right now and help settle my tummy. Even more than blogging. I was journaling longhand earlier tonight / this morning (it's 3-4am as I write this on a Friday) and my thoughts were clashing, crashing up against one another like a tv 📺 that can't find any one station and keeps flipping around from one badly received signal to the next... I finally surrendered to free association- a much less satisfying form of writing for me than narrative chunks... Ok I'm going to wrap this up, sip more ice water & if I'm lucky, dream about some awesome California musician 👨🏻‍🎤 boyfriend I really like that's fun & UPLIFTING or some sweet Frenchman, who knows? I just hope this is over with soon... I hate being sick (of course). #complaints

#complaints #illness #flu #psychic #healing #peace #thoughts

2 notes · View notes