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sobeautifullyobsessed · 9 months

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Of Magic, Miracles, and Moonlight

a Stephen Strange x OFC Romance

genre: pre-Infinity War, slow burn romance, older man/younger woman, teacher/student to friends to lovers characters: Stephen Strange, Wong, Teyla of Hadeeth (OFC), Moraine of Hadeeth (OC), additional OCs as Kamar-Taj staff rating: general audience to begin with, later chapters contain 18+ material

Ngl - I'm really hoping some of the authors in the Doctor Strange x Reader community will be kind enough to give this a read.🥺🥺 Even more so, a reblog - because I'm quite proud of my writing in this work, and I believe it deserves some love. Maybe some love could see me on my way to updating, even finishing, this WIP. It's lain fallow for far too long!

Chapter One

“Stephen, it’s nearly time.”

Wong’s voice pulled him from his scrutiny of the thick, weathered tome that had become his latest project. Since the passing of his mentor, the Ancient One, Stephen Strange was one of very few left in Kamar-Taj who made a regular practice of studying the advanced manuscripts, spell books, and obscure histories, which she had amassed during her centuries of service as the Sorcerer Supreme. His eidetic memory served him equally well in this pursuit, as it had in his previous vocation; as one of the world’s most talented and successful neurosurgeons he had learned the lesson early on—that knowledge was power—though the power he sought now he would wield for a even nobler purpose than those of his previous life.

“Remind me, Wong…it’s nearly time for…” Stephen let his voice trail off with the question, focusing just a few moments more on the script marking the page before him.

“For the arrival of the emissary from Hadeeth, Stephen,” Wong replied, “As well you know. Need I remind you that our alliance with Hadeeth goes back nearly four hundred years?”

“Not at all, Wong. I’m acutely aware—down to the smallest minutiae—of the terms of our accord the with the Hadeethans, having familiarized myself with every scrap of parchment the Ancient One left behind, detailing the particulars of our relationship.” Strange closed the leather-bound book before him, stretched a mite, and then rubbed thumb and forefinger upon his closed eyelids. “I’ve got a rotten case of eyestrain in the process, but I suppose I’m as ready for this as I can ever be,” he grumbled, “Although I’m not entirely certain why I have to be the one to meet with their envoy. A Master with years of experience—and not one with barely twelve months--would surely make a better representative of Earth. Let alone Kamar-Taj.”

Refusing to be pulled back into the ongoing debate, Wong remained impassive. “Of the Masters left in Kamar-Taj, you are the best qualified by virtue of your life experience. And in the absence of a Sorcerer Supreme, a Master of one of our Sanctums is the best that we can offer.”

He clapped Stephen on the shoulder, “Accept that you’re destined for this bit of diplomacy, Stephen. It can’t be anywhere near as complicated as navigating your way through the human brain to excise a pin point sized tumor.”

Strange rose to his feet, favoring Wong with a scowl, “As usual, Wong, your vote of confidence is underwhelming—but I will do my best not to provoke a diplomatic incident with an ally that has had Earth’s back for hundreds of years, and in some hairy situations.”

A young attendant placed the tray with fresh-brewed tea and a sampling of Nepalese delicacies on the low table before him. Without a word, she filled a cup with the hot liquid, and set it down beside the pot, before sliding a plate of almond honey cakes closer at hand to him. Stephen nodded, murmuring his thanks—though he was a little too nervous to partake of one of his favorite dishes. Instead, he stirred a bit of honey into his tea, briefly reflecting on the first cup of honeyed tea he had partaken in this very room, barely more than a year ago. With a shock to his system, he had been quickly educated as to how very much he did not know about the world, the universe, and the human mind and spirit; and since then, he had learned much more than he would ever had imagined of things he’d never even entertained as plausible. He considered himself a work in progress, truly humbled for the first time in his life, when he took into account how much he still did not know.

Yet, he had earned the respect of his peers here and—just moments before her death--the Ancient One had appointed him Master of the New York Sanctum. Strange took that responsibility ever seriously, having seen and experienced for himself the sort of assaults from other dimensions which Earth would be prey to were it not for the ancient protections provided by the band of sorcerers, bound in service to mankind.

The man he once was—before the accident that had deprived him of his livelihood, and the purpose by which he defined himself—Doctor Stephen Strange had the hubris to consider himself the best his specialty had ever known, and the ambition to pursue the loftiest positions of influence and power in his field. Now, as he split his time between New York and Nepal, he was in a constant quest for knowledge that would enable him to do this job to the best of his ability, while never seeking glory for himself. He would not—could not, in fact—allow himself to aspire to the title of Sorcerer Supreme…although more often than not these days, he was given--by some silent agreement (to which he was no party)--the deference and the responsibilities that came with that designation. Today, he would prefer to be a mere rank and file mage—but he could not turn his back upon the service that was asked of him.

Stephen rose when Wong appeared in the entrance way, ushering a stately, robed woman into the room. “Master Strange, allow me to present Mistress Moraine of Clan Kayolo, member of the Hadeethan Ruling Council,” Wong gave her a nod of respect, before moving to Stephen’s side.

Following the formal protocol which the Ancient One had chronicled, Strange bowed at the waist before speaking. “Welcome to Kamar-Taj, Mistress Moraine of Hadeeth. We are honored by your presence, and offer hospitality and friendship to you, and any others under your protection, for however long you sojourn here.”

She bowed in reply, and recited her opening remarks smoothly, her rich voice that of a woman accustomed to oratory, “The honor is mine, Sir. On behalf of my people, and in the name of our alliance, I accept your hospitality, Master Strange.” Moraine paused, studying him closely, before adding, “May the worlds we serve continue to benefit from our partnership.”

Strange motioned her to take a seat, then sat himself, while Wong moved forward to pour tea for the Hadeethan woman; the ensuing silence enough to allow Stephen an observation or two. She was definitely dignified (royalty was the first word that came to his mind), aloof and otherworldly; she wore her thick, silver hair loose and unadorned, for surely nothing could flatter her more than it’s natural glory; and the only subtle sign of age he could discern, were small crinkles at the corners of her pale grey eyes--but since he knew the average Hadeethan lifespan was upwards of 150 Earth years, they gave no clue regarding her actual age. There was a palpable feel of strength of will about her, as though her spine were made of steel. Moraine appeared—in short—to be a power to be reckoned with. He vowed to tread carefully regarding whatever topic she had arrived to discuss.

She sipped her tea, then nodded her approval, “Ah…it’s been far too long since I sampled this welcoming taste of Kamar-Taj. Though I regret I shall never raise my cup with the Ancient One again.”

“Her loss remains a heavy one for us to bear, Mistress Moraine,” he replied, a truth he felt most keenly every day, “And nothing would make me happier than for her to be here in my place.”

“I bear the condolences of my people for the dread passing of a wise leader and constant ally,” she told him, “And for myself, I share in your grief; for I had known the Sorcerer Supreme from my youth—as a teacher, then a mentor, and at the last, a friend.”

“I envy you that,” he admitted, “We all miss her guidance—but we have done our best to go forward as we believe she would see fit.”

Moraine narrowed her eyes, looking for the truth in his reaction, “And you do not seek to guide in her place? To bear the mantle she wore for centuries?”

Stephen shook his head vehemently, “I assure you, I am not that man. And honestly, I can’t think of anyone who could fill her shoes.”

She nodded, pleased with his reply, than raised her cup. “It is always so with the best of leaders. May we all do her proud in the service we provide to our worlds.”

“May we indeed,” he echoed, drinking from his cup as well.

Formalities now aside, Moraine was swift to reveal the surprising purpose of her visit. “I come on a personal matter, Master Strange. ‘Tis my hope you will entertain my request, if not for the sake of relations between our worlds, but for she whom we both miss.”

“I am certain we can accommodate you, Mistress Moraine. The resources of Kamar-Taj are at your service.”

“Even as I had anticipated,” she asserted, wearing a small relieved smile, “As you may know, Hadeeth has a good share of practitioners of the mystic arts. And in our culture, this is a thing well-known, even aspired to. In fact, by long standing tradition, the majority of those who sit on our ruling council are skilled in magic.”

Strange nodded, having gleaned those facts from the Ancient One’s notes, “Magic being the primary reason our worlds are well-suited as allies.”

Moraine bobbed her head in a brief acknowledgement, then continued, “On Hadeeth, we have found that the aptitude for magic, and the strength to wield it properly, are most prevalent in certain bloodlines. As a result, it is not uncommon for a particular clan to hold a council seat for several generations.”

“I take it that is your own experience,” he inferred.

“It is, Master Strange. But seats are not granted automatically—and those aspiring to them must pass a series of tests, unique to the individual.”

“And these tests involve the use of magic?”

“Exactly so—and thus arises my need for your assistance,” she admitted.

A bit perplexed, he might’ve asked, but Moraine had anticipated his question. “Not for myself, Master Strange—for my daughter, Teyla.” And then surprising him, she added, “A daughter of both our worlds.”

Not having known such a mingling of their races was even possible, it took a moment for him to respond, “You’re asking that we train her here, in Kamar-Taj?”

Moraine’s face took on a pleasant sort of softness, clear sign of the depth of her feelings for her child. “She has ever been my greatest treasure, and from the moment in which I discerned that she possessed aptitude for the mystical arts, I had planned to entrust my own best teacher with her tutelage.” She lowered her eyes, her voice become sorrow-tinged, “Who could have anticipated that such a plan would go unrealized?”

Stephen remained speechless, moved by her quiet show of grief. In the months since the Ancient One fell, he had learned things about her he had never expected—always making him long for the fruits of the wisdom she might have shared with him.

Having set aside her sorrow, Moraine looked to him again, firm of purpose, “Teyla’s skill--her strength—lies in the healing of body, mind, and heart. And though this ability is a miracle in itself, it does not suit well the sort of trials she is likely to face in the fullness of time.”

The doctor in him wanted to ask more of Hadeethan healing magic, but the situation would not allow for it—though he made a promise to himself to learn more of their practices when possible, with an eye towards the exchange of knowledge that might enable him to fulfill again that purpose of more than half his lifetime. “What training would best prepare your daughter for these future trials?”

Moraine looked please at his show of willingness, “She will need to develop defensive skills, for both her own safety, and for those who may someday fall under her protection.” She paused, gauging his reaction, and then concluded, “Teyla also possesses a small degree of prescience, although she is not yet capable of employing it at will. She dreams, yet cannot tell when the images may come to pass; she has strong, yet unpredictable, flashes of intuition, which she finds difficult to interpret. This gift is useless to her until she can cultivate the proper wisdom and discipline.”

“There are no teachers on Hadeeth that might guide her?” he asked, “Seers are rare, even in Kamar-Taj. I can’t guarantee our knowledge is enough to guide her beyond the most rudimentary training.”

“They are rarer still, on Hadeeth,” Moraine shrugged, “So rare they come but a handful of times in each generation. Though I am her mother, I haven’t even a touch of that gift.”

Stephen nodded, considering her request a moment. “We will do our best, Mistress Moraine—but in this case, I can make no promise.”

“I understand, Master Strange. And with this understanding, I will entrust you with Teyla’s further education. For the sake of our alliance,” she reminded him, “And for all the hopes a parent has for their child’s safety and happiness.”

They had concluded their meeting by settling upon three Earth days as the interval until Teyla would arrive at Kamar-Taj. “Of course, we’ll need to see what magic your daughter is already capable of, before we proceed with any training plan,” he cautioned her, as he and Wong escorted her back to the courtyard for her departure. “Please be sure she understands what lies ahead.”

“Oh, she is already more than prepared for that,” Moraine told him gratefully, “And she has spent a share of time on Earth--living with her father for several years--so you should find she will easily acclimate to your world.” With that, she drew on her sling ring—the magical tool which the Ancient One had shared with the Hadeethans, in consideration of their partnership—and conjured a portal back to her home world. Stephen could discern very little of what lay on the other side; a room half lit with what could be daylight, vague shapes that were likely Hadeethan furniture.

Moraine turned his way, and bowed low, and then rose to meet his eye. “Please keep in mind, Master Strange, that some of the tests Teyla may come to face are dangerous. I beg you to see she is properly prepared to survive, beyond the training I have already given her. I will be in your debt, and Earth’s, for the remainder of my days—and look forward to the day when I can be of service to your world, in return.” She stepped into the portal, and raised her hand in farewell, closing the circle before he could utter a word in reply.

“Well, this should prove interesting,” Wong observed, “How much experience do you have dealing with teenagers?”

“Barely to none,” Stephen confessed, “And I hadn’t counted on being asked to play a schoolmaster to a rookie sorcerer.”

Wong chuckled, amused at Strange’s befuddlement, “I’m thinking diplomacy will turn out to be child’s play, compared to the task you have ahead of you.”

“Yes,” Steven agreed grimly, heading back to the library to continue his studies of earlier. “And I’d much rather be navigating my way through the human brain, then babysit an angsty adolescent.”

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deludedfantasy · 9 months

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Trimax Vol 7 Ch 1-3

Sooooo, the first half of this volume might have destroyed me. I spent a lot of time staring into space between panels because the horrors were getting to me. Prepare for lots and lots of yelling. Here goes.

Ch 1

With a story like Trimax, I get incredibly nervous when an entire volume is named Happy Days. I know I am being lied to.

The way the crew comes out of their pods really reads like people clawing their way out of coffins. Very ominous.

Wow, this guy is rude. Rem hasn’t talked to anyone but Plant children in a whole year and the first thing that happens when the crew wakes up is that one of them harrasses her. Ugh. He could’ve stayed asleep for another three years if that’s how he was gonna be.

Argh, there are way too many people in this chapter and I can’t tell who’s talking when the whole crew is together.

I don’t know what to make of it, but Rem’s eyes are completely white when she lies to the crew. I know someone pointed out that Wolfwood’s eyes are white when he’s in an incredibly emotional state so I wonder if this is something similar?

Knives just messing around with the thrusters because he was curious. So not only do Independent plants grow quickly, they’re apparently incredibly smart. But also still kids because he absolutely messed something up.

Ah, young Conrad meeting the twins for the first time. I like that Tristamp made him a more important character because of what happened to Tesla.

Knives is so concerned with what humans think of him! Having him be so drastically different as a child really makes you wonder what happened to make him hate humanity as much as he does.

Oh no, baby Knives is crying! He just wants to be loved and accepted. Both of them love Rem so much too. Oh my god, I just wanna cry. This chapter is the sweetest, nicest one we’ve had in a while.

Pages that make me wanna sob because of dramatic irony. Little Knives is so hopeful…he’s so full of love and understanding and naivety. I don’t wanna watch it break.

Ohhhh. Now that I know what’s going on, this part makes a lot more sense to me. Knives and Vash think they see one of the people in cryo chambers awake, and they follow her. I think this is actually a telepathic Plant thing. Tesla is still alive, so she’s projecting herself into their minds and leading them to her.

She shows up right after Knives’s revelation about working through their differences with humanity. I wonder how much she hears and is aware of, because it seems significant that she shows up then, like a vengeful ghost that wants to show him how wrong he is.

God, I hate reading the report notes. They’re so chilling and dehumanizing. They keep calling her a “subject” but what we see is a little girl. And she looks so small and scared. Man, I really shouldn’t be reading this late at night. I’ll be up all night thinking about this.

“Trouble over a question of ethics.” Well, that’s a fucking understatement! Question of goddamn ethics, you scanned her so often you gave her cancer! Because you were treating a living thing—no, a child—like an inanimate object that could take as much abuse as you threw at it.

110 days is just over 3 months. I’m raging. How many times did they use radioactive scanning equipment on this little girl to give her tumors??? I had to get one CT scan done and they were extremely reluctant to do it because I was young and they weren’t sure it would show what was wrong with me.

My brain is only capable of producing screaming noises right now. These last pages are brutal and gory and…yeah, really messed up.

All the notes have to say is “Project is closed.” PROJECT??? PROJECT????? That was a little girl you experimented on so much that you basically killed her! I’m gonna throw my laptop out the window.

I’ve come back a little calmer and actually, I can’t tell if she’s alive or not. In Tristamp, it seems like she was put into cryo sleep to preserve her while she was technically alive. But here, I can’t tell. Thing is, she wouldn’t be able to do her Plant telepathy otherwise. Hmmm.

Ch 2

Oh no no no no, little Vash’s dead eyed face is too much for me right now. He’s had his doubts about humans, sure, but this is too much for him to handle. This is the revelation of humanity’s evil that he’s far, far too young to be able to handle.

Oh God, and he’s alone in there with Tesla’s dissected body because Knives fainted. He can’t look away, he’s never been able to look away, and all he can see now is how different he is from humanity. Right now, he doesn’t see any way they can reconcile their differences.

This page, where Vash looks like he’s floating curled into a ball while tormented by those staring eyes, is a nice juxtaposition to a similar panel in the last volume. There, he was peacefully floating in zero-g and feeling safe. Here, is the exact opposite. Here, it’s the loss of his innocence.

Vash is so angry. Rightfully so! What was done to Tesla was horrible and what proof does he have that the same won’t be done to him? Rem has been lying to him his whole life. He’s found out just how cruel the world is. It’s so easy to forget (and honestly not always easy to see) with adult Vash, but at heart, he is driven by anger. And I don’t think that’s necessarily a bad thing, because in his case, his kindness comes from that deep-seated anger. Remind me to write a longer post about that later.

Still, it’s so interesting to see that anger and realize it’s always been in him, from the very beginning.

But this is also the start of something worse—Vash’s suicidal ideation comes from here. He doesn’t see a point in living if the world would treat beings like him with such cruelty, forever leaving him marked as other and inhuman. He doesn’t want to live in a world of only humans. How does he become the man who will do anything in his power to defend humanity when all he has right now is fear and hatred?

Vash refusing to eat because he just doesn’t see the point and doesn’t want to live—I see where Tristamp got Vash’s feelings about deserving to eat from.

Oh my God??? OH MY GOD???? Vash was gonna stab himself. Like yes, I’ve read this before, and yes, I know he’s actively suicidal here, but just—this is the first time we’re seeing it exposed like this, the very depths of his despair. The past few pages, the way he’s been drawn, with his cheeks hollowed and his eyes without expression or emotion, it’s A Lot and I’m not okay.

And Rem just fucking grabs the blade to stop him. She’s willing to hurt herself to keep him from dying. He learned all of this from her, every part of his ideology, and it wasn’t in abstraction. He saw it and, not only that, it was what Rem did to save him. He really becomes her continuation.

Vash has this moment where he becomes very unhinged and actually sounds a bit like future Knives when he hurts Rem by pulling the blade away from her. He learns how powerful violence is, the relief and catharsis it can bring. But immediately after he has these thoughts, he sees how he hurt Rem and that snaps him back to himself, to the little boy he is who just loves his mother.

He has her blood on his hands and that’s too much for him to take. She might be one of the humans that hurt Tesla, but he still loves her and it scares him to see her like that.

He patches her up and gets something to eat….my heart is breaking. He’s just a little baby, why does this have to happen to him?

The blank ticket story is going to make me cry. There’s so much hope in it, especially when you consider the situation Rem had that dream in. She was depressed as hell, she’d lost someone she loved and probably didn’t see a point in going forward either. And it’s a reminder that there’s more to the world than evil and darkness. There’s kindness and goodness too and that’s what Vash needed to hear.

I also think he needed to see Rem’s tears and remorse to remind him that he knows her. She might have made a mistake with Tesla but she never did anything to them. She’s trying to make up for it, with everything in her being she’s trying.

Also, “If you hadn’t stopped me then, I never would have known that when you cry, Rem, you look like you’re laughing.” WOW, Vash you really picked up all your best and worst qualities from your mom, huh? You learn to do the same thing.

Knives wakes up with a dead-eyed look and then says he doesn’t remember anything. Yeahhhh, no, I don’t think so.

Ch 3

The chapter titles in this volume are going to be the death of me. I don’t know if I can handle reading something called “King of Loneliness” after that last chapter. Send help, I’m doing it anyway.

“She hung her head low.” What happened weighs on Rem so much and you just know she ended up taking care of Knives and Vash as some kind of penance. I don’t think she expected to love them as much as she did by the end. But she also never intended on telling them any of this and just forging ahead with them into the new world, disappearing without ever having to face up to what she did.

I can’t blame her though. Is there a good way to tell a child a truth like that? But it would have been better if she’d told them all of this rather than Vash and Knives finding out on their own. Much like it would’ve been better if Vash was honest about who he was and what his mission was with Meryl, Milly, and Wolfwood from earlier on. Hiding things from the people you love rarely ends well.

“There’s so much we have to do to make sure it never happens again.” Now that’s what I call foreshadowing and dramatic irony. We all know what Knives means by that.

But Vash knows something’s wrong with Knives. And we see it too. This is the first time in these chapters his face is obscured in shadows, just like it was when we were first introduced to this younger version of him volumes ago. This is the first moment where Vash feels like he doesn’t know his brother.

Knives is losing it. He’s painting himself in his own blood as he no doubt plans the Big Fall. His descent into fear and darkness here is masterfully done and so unsettling.

The juxtaposition of these pages too, with his fearful face covered in blood and tears and the triumph as he watches the ships fall from the sky. This was an act of evil, yes, but it was driven by fear and helplessness.

Knives claims all his decision making as rational, but these last few pages have shown that to be untrue. Certainly, there was logic behind it, but most of it was driven by emotion.

Ohhhhh, I finally understand this bit! Knives merges with the Plant! He asks her for help and shows what he’s feeling, his anger at humanity and, ultimately, his plans. Last volume, he realized he doesn’t have the power to achieve his goals alone and this is how he plans to fix that.

At the beginning of this chapter, I thought the King of Loneliness was going to be Vash, but really, it’s Knives. He pushed everyone away and destroyed the colony fleet. He pushes away the Gung Ho Guns and merges with the Plants to achieve his goals. Ultimately, he is still a scared lonely boy who never processed the terrible things he witnessed and learned. His trust was broken so completely, he never recovered.

#trigun #trigunbookclub

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caspersickfanfics · 3 months

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Post-adrenaline puking

For @monthofsick day 6

Prompt List | AO3 | Ask | Rules

Warnings: Vomiting, near death experience, nightmare reference, imagined death (?) (thinking about "what if [character] died")

A/N:

No ask for this one, just my own brain thinking it'd be great if Cyno and Tighnari were fighting together and then Cyno almost died and he's totally fine but Tighnari is horrifically shaken up by the whole experience.

There was something uniquely exhilarating about fighting with Cyno. Although Tighnari was more than capable of handling The Withering on his own or with his team of forest rangers, something about teaming up with the person Tighnari was closest to enhanced his own strengths. As a general rule of thumb, Tighnari didn’t much like fighting, but this… he would never admit it out loud, but fighting alongside Cyno felt more like play.

They took down the last ruin monster together, and despite the energy-sucking effects of The Withering, Tighnari felt like he could fight ten more as he moved to destroy the tumor. A single shot should do it, now the they’d destroyed the monsters and the branches. And yet… It didn’t. Tighnari frowned. Had he missed? A sense of foreboding rose in his bones, but he brushed it off as he heard Cyno laugh.

“Tighnari! What does an archer say when he misses his target?”

Tighnari ignored this, taking aim for a second shot. As he did so, he heard three things:

The complete silence of the wind

Cyno’s carefree voice saying, “Oh, bow”

A creak that comes not from nature, but machinery

He whipped around just in time to a final infected ruin monster appear behind Cyno, already charging up. He didn’t know how it had gotten past both of them, but he knew without a doubt that it could take his partner from him forever with a single strike.

“Cyno!” Tighnari’s stomach flipped; he felt felt the blood drain from his face and with it went any sense of fun. For a moment where time was frozen, Tighnari saw snapshots of Cyno, making unfunny jokes to lighten a tense mood, playing TCG with the highest degree of intensity, returning to their home weary to the bone but full of love after months of nonstop work. He saw him helping Collei through panic attacks, reminding her that her illness did not define her or make her weak, tucking her in after a bad dream and staying with her the better part of the night, teaching her tracking and spatial awareness to ensure she’d be able to sense when danger was near. He saw Cyno as he was years ago, awkward and uncertain in the early stages of their friendship, recalled the wonder in Cyno’s face as Tighnari taught him how to brush his tail. He saw Cyno asleep in their bed, peaceful and entirely relaxed and safe.

Then he saw Cyno, cold and stiff. Lying flat, but not sleeping. Entirely unmoving. This Cyno he had seen before, too, many times since his dreams had returned, but only ever in the worst of his nightmares.

And then the hands of time began ticking, and Tighnari lost track of himself. He had a thought that he’d need multiple shots to take it down, and then he was moving. Two shots from a distance, running closer before the second one hit. The machines weapon went off, its laser beam striking too close to Cyno for comfort, but Tighnari’s body continued to move. Positioning himself in close quarters and knowing that he could hit its weak point up to five times in succession if he got lucky.

He did get lucky, but it didn’t feel that way. There was no immediate sense of relief as the ruin monster fell to the ground. Tighnari wasted no time destroying the tumor. The Withering cleared, but his chest stayed tight and painful, and oxygen felt just out of his grasp. He heard Cyno whistle and then speak as though he were a mile away.

“Wow, that was kinda hot. I had no idea you could–” Cyno’s breath stuck in his throat the moment he caught sight of Tighnari. Ears pinned to his head, tail quivering weakly, eyes wide. A single glance and he could tell something was wrong. He just didn’t know what.

Then Tighnari doubled over and vomited, and Cyno was at his side assessing the damage before a single thought crossed his mind.

“Are you hurt,” he demanded. No response, just a moan and a shuddering back, and then a hand clasping Cyno’s arm, tight. “Tighnari.”

“‘m fine,” the forest watcher mumbled, voice hollow and still thick with nausea; decidedly unconvincing. A harsh heave brought another wave of puke splattering across the uneven forest floor. Cyno held his companion steady with his free hand on Tighnari’s shoulder. When the retching stopped, the matra took it upon himself to conduct a quick but thorough examination, only breathing a sigh of relief after he confirmed that Tighnari had sustained exclusively surface level injuries.

“Right,” Cyno spoke with an attempt at confidence. “You’re okay.”

Except Tighnari did not look okay at all. His skin was washed out and covered in beads of sweat, and his ears stayed pressed into damp hair. The way he gasped for air made Cyno’s chest hurt. Most concerning were his eyes: unblinking and dilated, red-ringed but dry, they traced all of Cyno’s movements as if tied to him by invisible strings.

“You–” Tighnari started, only to be cut off with a retch. His grip on Cyno’s arm tightened impossibly further. Cyno didn’t mind; he simply moved closer and rubbed firm circles onto the ill forest watcher’s arched back until he threw up again and his airways cleared. Cyno was rattled, impatient for an explanation and reassurance, but not enough to rush Tighnari into speaking. He took a slow breath before speaking again.

“Let’s sit." The matra’s voice was deliberately soft with the suggestion, and his movements as he guided Tighnari to rest on a fallen tree were gentle. He was still clearly feeling unwell. He curled up, one arm wrapped around his knees, feet pulled close to his body, looking much smaller than he was. Even his tail had curled closely around him. Every so often a wet burp would bubble out of him, but Cyno doubted there was anything left in his stomach. Since he hadn't brought any extra supplies, Cyno used his own bare hand to wipe the area around Tighnari’s mouth clean. He tried not to think too hard about what it meant that Tighnari, who was usually so insistent about taking care of himself, expressed no resistance to this action. He still hadn’t let go of Cyno’s arm, though his grip eased somewhat over time. As Cyno eyed the place where their skin touched, he thought about how scared he had been at the idea of Tighnari being hurt; he thought about the number of times Tighnari had examined him for injuries, and the intensity of his gaze just minutes ago.

“Ah,” Cyno said quietly. It was so obvious. “I’m okay.”

The words, simple as they were, clearly meant a great deal to Tighnari. His tail twitched and unraveled, brushing Cyno’s shoulder and falling to rest nested between both of their thighs. Tighnari’s eyes, which had been staring blankly at the ground in front of him, drifted to Cyno’s face.

“You almost died,” Tighnari croaked. A shiver ran down Cyno’s spine.

He didn’t know if Tighnari was right, though he trusted the forest watcher’s judgement. He wanted to deny it. He knew, really, that it didn’t matter exactly how close he had come to fighting his last. If he had scared Tighnari to this extent… He didn’t know how to fix it.

“I’m sorry,” he said, both helplessly and genuine. “I didn’t mean to.”

Tighnari’s eyes crinkled at the corners, his nose twitching. His mouth quirked up slightly, like he wanted to laugh but was too tired to muster up the energy. “I know.”

Cyno nodded. There was a much bigger conversation to be had, he knew, but now was not the time. Tighnari’s complexion had improved somewhat, but he was still incredibly shaky. His grip on Cyno’s forearm had weakened, and he had slumped against Cyno’s side. It was… disconcerting, seeing how steady he usually was, and Cyno wanted him to rest and feel better as soon as possible.

“Do you still feel sick?”

Tighnari took a moment to answer, and Cyno knew he was taking stock of his body. He waited silently, comfortable with this familiar process, until Tighnari shook his head. “Not sick, just tired and weak. I–” He hesitated and Cyno offered when he hoped was an encouraging expression. Tighnari’s cheeks flushed pink. “I’m not sure I can walk, to be honest.”

This was not surprising to Cyno. “I’ll carry you.”

The blush darkened. Cyno stood, facing away from Tighnari, and nodded at his own back. “Get on.”

Tighnari scoffed audibly, and then there was a soft “You’re ridiculous,” but soon a weight settled against Cyno and he smiled slightly.

“What did the forest ranger say to the fox?” He asked. Tighnari groaned, Cyno’s smile grew, and together, they set off towards home.

–––

Send asks here!

#my writing #tw emeto #tw vomit #tw near death experience #tw imagined death #tw nightmare mention #sick tighnari #genshin impact emeto #genshin impact #novemetober #novemetober rescheduled #sickfic #cyno genshin impact #tighnari genshin impact #genshin sickfic #my writing: genshin

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worms-unstrung · 1 year

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may is brain tumor awareness month

the 5 year survival rate for people with malignant brain tumors is only 35.7%. an estimated 1 million americans are living with a brain tumor. nearly 20,000 americans are expected to die from malignant brain tumors this year. for those with a gliomastoma the average life expectancy after diagnosis is only 8 months. although glioblastomas have been known about since the 1920s, there is still no cure. this may, spread awareness and consider donating in the hope of finding a cure.

#brain cancer #in may we wear gray #go gray in may #gray may #glioblastoma

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shannendoherty-fans · 5 months

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Shannen Doherty Wants to 'Embrace Life' as Cancer Has Spread to Her Bones: 'My Greatest Memory Is Yet to Come' (Exclusive)

The 'Beverly Hills, 90210' star opens up in PEOPLE's latest cover story about her Stage 4 cancer diagnosis and how she hopes to inspire others by focusing on her future

ByDanielle Bacher

Updated on November 29, 2023 09:29AM EST

Shannen Doherty doesn’t mince words.

“I don’t want to die,” she asserts as a sliver of Los Angeles sunshine falls across her face on the set of her PEOPLE cover shoot four days before Thanksgiving.

The actress — who is best known for her roles on the hit ’90s TV show Beverly Hills, 90210 and later, Charmed — is characteristically candid, upbeat and dry-witted as she opens up about her Stage 4 breast cancer that has spread to her bones.

As she continues to receive treatment, the 52-year-old is more determined than ever to keep moving forward. “I’m not done with living. I’m not done with loving. I’m not done with creating. I’m not done with hopefully changing things for the better,” she says, cracking a smile. "I’m just not — I’m not done.”

Doherty’s eight-year journey with cancer has led her to reflect on the big picture of her life, a theme she will explore on her memoir-style podcast, Let’s Be Clear with Shannen Doherty, premiering Dec. 6 on iHeartRadio, where she plans to discuss everything from career highlights and past relationships to the numerous stages of her illness and health regimens.

After her initial breast cancer diagnosis in 2015 that she first shared with PEOPLE, Doherty had a mastectomy and underwent chemotherapy and radiation.

In April 2017, she revealed on Instagram she went into remission. But by 2019, the cancer returned — and she announced her diagnosis of metastatic stage 4 cancer the following year.

“When you ask yourself, ‘Why me? Why did I get cancer?’ and then ‘Why did my cancer come back? Why am I stage 4?,’ that leads you to look for the bigger purpose in life,” she explains.

She hopes to raise awareness and funds for cancer research — while showing that people with terminal cancer still have plenty to contribute to the world. “It’s insane to me [that] we still don’t have a cure,” she says.

In June, Doherty shared on Instagram that the cancer had spread to her brain and that she had undergone surgery five months earlier to remove a brain tumor. With dark humor, she named it Bob.

“He had to get removed and dissected to see his pathology,” she explains. “It was definitely one of the scariest things I’ve ever been through in my entire life.”

Right now, Doherty hopes to get into clinical trials as new treatments are developed. (It is estimated 168,000 people are living with metastatic breast cancer, according to the Susan G. Komen organization.) But she is most driven by her desire to prove that she can work despite her cancer diagnosis. And it's that deep-seated sense of discipline that helps her carry on.

“People just assume that it means you can’t walk, you can’t eat, you can’t work. They put you out to pasture at a very early age —‘You’re done, you’re retired,’ and we’re not,” she says. “We’re vibrant, and we have such a different outlook on life. We are people who want to work and embrace life and keep moving forward.”

Never miss a story — sign up for PEOPLE's free daily newsletter to stay up-to-date on the best of what PEOPLE has to offer.

Each morning, the actress feels grateful for another day with her friends, her family and her German shepherd Bowie.

"My greatest memory is yet to come," she says. "I pray. I wake up and go to bed thanking God, praying for the things that matter to me without asking for too much. It connects me to a higher power and spirituality. My faith is my mantra.”

As she explains, when you have cancer, everything is more poignant, and the sky is bluer.

“I know it sounds cheesy and crazy, but you’re just more aware of everything, and you feel so blessed. We’re the people who want to work the most, because we’re just so grateful for every second, every hour, every day we get to be here.”

For more on Shannen Doherty's cancer journey and how she's finding moments of joy amid her diagnosis, pick up the latest issue of PEOPLE, on newsstands Friday.

#shannen doherty #2023 #2023 shannen doherty #article #people magazine #Dec 11 23 people #2023 article #2020s #2020s article #2023 people #2020s shannen doherty #magazine #2023 magazine #2020s magazine

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nameless-brand · 8 months

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One month ago:

The three kids - Charles, Wendy, and Eve - went back their home to sleep for the day, Charles in particular needing to handle affairs in his mother's place.

She still doesn't get how she ended up becoming a babysitter, but she's finally accepte-

"She is not supposed to be alive," her charge said, interrupting her thoughts. The girl's gaze stared straight through the door.

---

She knows who she's talking about. Wendy. The one with the brain tumor that was resected a couple months ago - a clean bill of health so far. But back in the past timeline, Charles and Eve were the only kids that made it to the Inn after the Dream's Descent - Wendy died from some unknown disease - in retrospect, it was likely the brain tumor that was brewing in her head - growing too large.

Something intangible arose from Chi's careless comment - as if events began to be set into motion to fulfill a child's unknowing decree. It would be so easy to fulfill too - because Wendy shouldn't be alive in the first place.

This won't do.

"But you're happy that she's around, right?" Sato quipped quickly, belying the anxiety inside her chest.

"Yes," Chi replied and then paused as if thinking there's more she should say - maybe unconsciously aware about the nature of her powers- "I am happy she is around."

And like a tapestry unwound, the creeping Doom she could feel dissipated like it was never there.

She stared at the younger girl, not quite sure what to say. Not quite sure how to explain that she probably nearly killed her friend with some carelessly said words. She knows what would happen if she told Chi directly: she'd shut up entirely - perhaps too afraid to talk to ever again, even though the younger girl's probably the most thoughtful person she knows with her words.

"Oh, Chi," Sato patted the younger girl's head, "You need to think twice about saying things like that. "not supposed to be alive" or like wishing someone was dead or some other misfortune. "

"Words have a way of coming true. And you'll regret it if it happens and you didn't mean it, got it?"

She was waiting for the "that's unscientific" from Chi, her usual and normally hilarious counter for all things superstitious from Chi. But instead all she saw was apprehension.

"Does that I mean I did something bad to Wendy?"

"It's okay. You backtracked fast enough. But backtracking might not always work. If you want to wish ill will on someone out loud, think twice about whether you really want that bad thing happening before saying it. Okay?"

"Okay," Chi nods determinedly, "I promise."

#not visible ic #cancer //#headcanon ;;

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yourgoldengirl · 8 months

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Grief. I don't wanna feel grief.

Isn't it funny how someone that once made you laugh, smile, and sigh in contentment now causes you to cry and wail?

Now all the honey-like moments are so bittersweet and you don't want to remember them anymore?

It hurts, it hurts, it hurts.

It hurts right where the pain is hidden. Where the tears form, and the heartache comes alive.

I don't like it. I don't like going through tumultuous processes, I hate letting go, I hate having to live life lessons and carry them with me for the rest of my life.

I hate feeling like I've felt it all and I've made peace with it when I haven't yet.

I hate loving and then have that love taken away from me. When I've done everything within my power to keep it with me.

Nobody prepared me to see my little heart with four paws pee herself and fall on her own pee, nobody prepared me to have my mom see that scene and start crying cause she couldn't take it and I had to scream at her to be strong and help me clean my dog while I carried her to stop her from getting even dirtier, nobody prepared me to have sleepless nights taking care of her because my baby dog couldn't sleep and kept walking everywhere, then stopping at a wall (which the Dr said it was a way of dogs to display pain) and crying cause she was scared and couldn't see well anymore so she would get stuck in front of walls and couldn't see where to move, I then would have to go and guide her and carry her to her bed, I'd have to caress her and ease the pain from her hips in the hopes that she'd feel well enough through the night and I wouldn't have to put her to sleep the next morning, that of course, didn't go my way.

Nothing of what I did mattered, nothing made an impact strong enough to keep her here for a little longer. Not waiting to go to her vet, who's shifts would start at 11:00pm, because he knew all her history and knew her well, because he was the most capable of the vet clinic, and have him see her every time she'd have some pain, some new health symptom, getting her all the vitamins, the food, her foot splint, her blood tests, then taking her to the neurologist and have him diagnose her a brain tumor.

Me fighting with a broken heart didn't make her stay for a little longer.

And I know that having her for a little longer would hurt me more, if that is even possible.

Not even knowing that, we took her to the cliché visit to the park, so that she could have one last wonderful sunset at a massive park for her last outing, giving her ice cream, tacos, and all of the spoiling treatment, made her feel better.

Being well aware that my selfishness was what kept me going, the thought of "If i do it all, she won't feel pain and i can have her for a few more months with me" didn't help.

Walking out of my house with my dog in my arms and coming back empty handed was one of the most heartbreaking things i've ever lived.

I don't even wish that pain and ever lasting sadness on anyone.

My four legged companion left me.

It pains me still to this day, almost a year later. And I know that this pain will live with me. It haunts me in the most beautiful way, in the fear of adopting another pretty creature to share my days with. To go on cute, fun and adventurous walks. To give sneaky treats every day. To hug and smother in kisses. To run after in order to give them a warm quick shower. To sleep with. To share my life and heart with.

I loved my small dogo with all of my heart. And she gave me a great 14 years. And I'll let her go one day, maybe the day I also leave this life.

Grief, is the absolute worst. And I'm not making friends with it yet. Not for a while.

#personal #love #thoughts #about love #my heart #happiness #grief #grieving #dealing with grief #loss #pet loss #dog loss #dog lover #dog mom #dog passing #death #sadness #dog #mourning

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forbidding-souda · 2 years

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Oh that’s amazing!

Can you do Byakuya Togami x Reader with Neurofibromatosis Type 1! Thank you again!

Byakuya Togami with a S/O with Neurofibromatosis Type 1 headcanons

wakka wakka woo I have got <3 you

I'm watching tiktoks on it rn

damn i wish I posted this in may tho that's nf awareness month isn't it god dmanit

currently watching: ASMR MOST POPULAR FOOD ON MY CHANNEL *Honeycomb Aloe Vera Seagrapes Octopus | NO TALKING | SAS-ASMR

-Mod Souda

❤ The tumors that are visible through your skin are things he doesn't consider anything shameful. He doesn't consider it anything unattractive, and he will skim over them if you'd rather him not mention them at all. He also finds no means of hiding them when the two of you present in public. If they are prominent on your face, and if it's something you're insecure about or something you don't want to be there, he will pay for the best doctor from around the world to help you (but it'll come in the form of him saying a snarky "do you want something done about that?" with a scowl). But if you don't complain about them and don't want the simple ones gone then he won't force you to do anything, it's your body and your disorder. He is not a doctor and he is not going to try and be one.

"It's like constellations," he points out abruptly, not trying to be romantic as he looks at medical photos your skin. You're surprised he could even utter a word with such affectionate undertones. "Yeah- okay." You pull the phone away from him. He looks at you from above his glasses as he tries to figure out what to say next. A million of rude things pass over his brain but it takes him a second to think of what a normal boyfriend would say. "It's a good thing. I think you look..." he takes a second to think of a sentimental word that conveys what he is alluding to, "...lovely." He says things like that a little more often than he did before. He has started saying "you can be a model" which you took as some exaggerated compliment until you realized he was genuinely offering.

❤ He would show the most graceful financial support as any single doctor's appointment or treatment you do is practically completely free, but that much is an obvious thing.

❤ If you get down after body-monitoring appointments or the scans then he is gonna get catered whatever food you desire in the moment, and it's gonna be so bomb. He likes gifting you in foods that'll keep your immune system rocking. He doesn't know mu[anything]ch about health, but he knows the immune system is something important, so that's what he is going with.

❤ He does take into consideration the fact that it might be passed down to kids, since his goal is to have the Togami empire expand. I think it matters on how confident you are in yourself and your disorder. If you exhibit the ability to have a life that's without fear and worry then he will realize that his child could also have the same mindset. The lack of moppiness is something that'll pursway him more than anything you can say, actions speak louder than words.

❤ The one thing he knows a lot about is café au lait spots and that's just because he likes the name.

❤ I don't think he would even tell you he's doing this but he 100% is giving to organizations and causes to help people with nf or similar birth disorders. He's gaining a sense of sympathy, which is a big deal, not because he usually doesn't, but because the usual 'sympathy' he feels is often a form of pity.

❤ He is determined not to 'fix' you but to instead make your life a bit more calm.

❤ Bro if you're nervous about something hospital related he can get you an emotional support animal that is literally any type of animal you want.

#byakuya togami imagines #byakuya togami x reader #byakuya togami #x reader #danganronpa #neurofibromatosis #neurofibromatosis type 1 #nf1

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mbrainspaz · 11 months

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Burn out? Not while I'm pouring gallons of diesel into the flames.

I want to spend this morning before work working on my comic, but you see, I am deeply upset about something. Is it something, or is it everything? Is my brain chemistry sabotaging me today? I have been kind of manic for a while. Not sure exactly how long. Time has really gotten away from me. Could it be that I've been working 50 hour weeks on the ranch in 100F heat? The thing about my uncle with the terminal brain tumor? Nobody wants to tell me what the hell is going on there. An old best friend untagging herself in one of my posts and not bothering to text me back for several days? I mean... she's probably fine. She's just busy. She probably doesn't suddenly hate me. If she does I guess it's a free country, especially for bigots. Could it be pride month being a constant reminder that most of my family never really loved me and thinks I'm demon possessed? I thought I was over that. Am I just exhausted from single-handedly training the new teen employee? Getting misgendered way more than normal because he insists on calling me ma'am even though I told him not to? I think I am socially burned out. There were a bunch of interpersonal conflicts I had to sort out for clients and coworkers on saturday and ever since then I can barely listen to my audiobooks. My temper is boiling and I'm falling apart except I'm not because I'm very much together, obviously. I do feel possessed whenever clients or coworkers talk to me. Possessed by the spirit of flawless professionalism and customer service. It's so creepy honestly. I can be standing alone in the barn on the verge of screaming and falling to my knees in despair and someone will walk in and smile and say, "Hey how's it going?" and I'll go, "Great! How've you been? How's your horse? What can I do for you?" And then go through the whole dialogue tree without a single negative emotion clouding my thoughts. Personality: Error 404. But it's cool it's great it's all good because nobody ever notices. I'm so good at being normal about it. Under it all I'm still viscerally aware that nothing I could ever do would actually make me less disposable to this company or this whole community I'm not really a real part of. I could've spent the last two hours working on my comic but there's all this harsh static fizzing in my head. I know something is bothering me but I'm not sure exactly what.

#nobody cares #personal problems #other other job #work work work #burnout #trauma tw #rant

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camp-counselor-life · 11 months

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It is the end of May. May is many things, including:

Asian American, Native Hawaiian, and Pacific Islander (AANHPI) Heritage Month

Jewish American Heritage Month

Mental Health Awareness Month

Mobility Awareness Month

Awareness months of: BPD, Fibromyalgia, Celiac, Cystic Fibrosis, Hepatitis, Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome, Huntington's Disease, Lupus, Lyme Disease, Asthma & Allergy, MS, Melanoma, Brain Tumors, Neurofibromatosis, and Apraxia

A lot happens in May. May is also a chaotic month in the world of camp, as it's almost go time and all of that prep work that makes summer camp possible is happening.

I want to leave you all with little reading as we wrap up the month, a few websites to peruse.

Jewish Camps: There is a rich history of summer camp in the Jewish community, since 1893. Check it out.

Diversify Outdoors has this list of API-led organizations in the outdoors.

ACA has this overview of Lyme Disease (and tick bite in general) prevention that's worth a skim.

Speaking of medical conditions with awareness month this month, check out this ACA article on tree nut allergies and camp. I also recently saw a post going around saying that allergens like pea protein (a legume like peanuts) and sesame (a top 10 food allergen) are often hidden in places you wouldn't' expect, so be sure to be vigilant this summer (in partnership with kitchen staff) to ensure safe food for your kiddos.

Lastly, I want to direct your attention to the mental health queue tag, as it includes many articles, suggestions, and resources for mental health, often with a summer camp emphasis.

I could not hope to provide resources on everything that May represents. I didn't even list them all out, even just months, let alone awareness weeks and days. But if you have a few minutes, even if you can only read just one, you might learn something that will help you or enrich your understanding of summer camp and the campers you work with.

#mental health queue #ideab

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whitneyasif · 1 year

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My DP/DR story

I was diagnosed with Depersonalization(DP)/Derealization(DR) disorder a few months ago, although I've experienced it since I was in high school, probably around 2012. At that time, I had no clue what it was. I remember first experiencing it after smoking weed with my friends, and still feeling "weird" and high the next day, and the day after that, all for about a week. Eventually, I guess I just stopped thinking about it so naturally, it was gone. I never really smoked much weed after that, thinking I'd never ever wanna feel that weird again. Flash forward to 2015 when my grandfather (who raised me, and was basically like my dad) suddenly passed from a brain tumor, it sparked up again, but once again went away and laid dormant. I was doing good, I got married and had two sons. Then, one of the worst things that could happen to a woman, happened to me. My husband died. He was robbed and killed in March of 2021, and my whole world crashed...and burned...badly. My anxiety was at an all-time high. I was paranoid, watching out of my window all night and not sleeping because I was so afraid. After months into my healing journey for the next year, I was doing better. I got back to work, and things were seeming to go back to "normal" for me. October of 2022 comes around, and my younger sister had relapsed and called me for help, asking to come to my house to detox and get clean. I agree and pick her up, and she is withdrawing pretty hard. I left home for about an hour to go help my sister-in-law who had a flat tire and needed a ride, and come home to my baby sister who was 23, dead in my bed. Probably the most devastating thing that I have ever gone through other than losing my husband. After that, a bunch of new mental health issues started to arrive and wouldn't you know it, here comes the DP/DR, full force, the worst it has ever been. I suffered for a few months of going in and out of "reality" and dissociative states and finally called a therapist. Almost immediately I was diagnosed to have DP/DR and PTSD. Although I knew I had it, it was still a relief for someone to listen to me and not make me feel crazy when I described my symptoms. Quite frankly, if you have ever experienced DP/DR you know just how crazy it makes you feel. Now at this point, you're probably wondering "Well, what does it do to you? How does it make you feel?". It can quite literally alter your mind. My symptoms are severe and can last for days. How I know I'm going into an "episode" is easy for me now, remember that I said easy to recognize, not that they are pleasant. I will start to see and hear things differently. Hearing things can seem muffled, or like someone is talking to you from another room. Vision change can be hard to describe, but the best way I can describe it is, you start seeing things in a somewhat hyper-real state, or that the world seems "not real". I think this is one of the most common symptoms for people who experience this, which is less than 2% of the population, by the way. Another thing that happens that is related to vision is, you feel like you are viewing things from a third person or out-of-body. Looking at yourself in the mirror, your friends, and even your children can feel unfamiliar. I remember looking in the mirror and even questioning if I was real. It can be alarming, and scary. When I would tell people I felt crazy. But I realized that I am not crazy. I am hurt. I am traumatized. The way my body deals with it is just inconvenient, honestly. I look at it like this... My brain is trying to protect me from all the pain, all the hurt, and make me feel like things are not real so I don't feel the pain. Being self-aware wants me to tell my brain to fucking stop the charade and let me hurt because I would rather be sad than feel like I don't exist. I have been working with my therapist to try to find breathing techniques that work or grounding exercises. I was even prescribed Lexapro, which I will be starting tonight. It's been a long journey, and I am even in an episode as I type this, but I know one day I will get better.

#trauma #ptsd #lexapro #drug overdose #depersonalization #derealization #dpdr #mental health #therapy

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luc3 · 2 years

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[my] rabbit hole. (and the resulting hyper-vigilant-brain. )

Right now, there are a lot of dead people inside, and I don't know why I have this feeling of having to swallow them all again. I grow marigolds for my grandmother, I pick blue thistles for my grandfather, but that's not enough. Nothing probably ever is.

At work, I don't know if I'm experiencing what they all call "after covid", but in two years of graduation I can already see the difference. Before, it was hard, we were constantly understaffed, but I had the feeling that my colleagues still had resources, and we were still united.

Now, and frankly I can't believe it only comes from my feelings and my personal prism, I only work in pain. But such pain that I wonder how I will be able to continue.

The work is not done. We spend our time doing the work of the team before us. Who probably had to do the same.

We only manage the emergencies or almost. So we are doing double duty. We never leave on time. We see the patients abandoned. Especially the elderly. We are 2 to manage more than 40 beds, in services such as general medicine, therefore serious pathologies and people who all require significant care.

I finished my service at the public hospital in Oncology on the verge of a massive personal burnout. I've come back to work so many times on days off.

After that, I worked in the emergency department at night, in a private for-profit clinic, whose chief surgeons make 50k a month. My colleagues and I are at 1800. 2000 with overtime. I ran out of patience to continue. Emergencies are the Cour des miracles. People come for nothing. Those who really should come grit their teeth and stay home.

Emergency doctors (but others too) no longer touch patients and prescribe tons of check-ups (blood, urine, etc.) to be profitable and heaps of drugs not reimbursed.

Besides, in two years, I don't think I've ever seen a doctor touch a patient. Even in the hospital. We send the residents to do lumbar punctures; nurses or nursing assistants for all other technical actions. I'm even talking about laying electrodes for an electro-encephalogram. I'm even talking about taking a pulse, measuring a breathing rate, feeling a patient's stomach.

Thanks to morphine for allowing me to write this morning. I have never vomited so much as in the past few months. And I still want when I have an empty stomach.

I am so tired of seeing my fellow caregivers in such a painful situation. Too much suffering and fatigue does not create solidarity, on the contrary, it produces more mistreatment, more low blows, more pettiness. A doctor would say it's a symptom, however painful it is, it shows that the body is still alive. It's better than a clinically dead, even if that's what will inevitably come next.

The French health system is collapsing in silence, in the most total indifference, oh you assholes who applauded us two years ago, what contempt and what arrogance... As long as your tumor has not become dangerous you are no longer aware that we exist. The price of the latest iPhone is more important. The lack of sunflower oil too.

Frères humains, qui après nous vivez...

The world of health in France is collapsing and what to do if not follow the movement?

#Diary #Nurse with wound

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padawansuggest · 2 years

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IT IS SYRINGOMYELIA AWARENESS MONTH APPARENTLY!!! A few facts about the condition for those of you that wanna know:

I do not have Chiari Malformation (which is where the skull is too short to hold the brain so that’s why the syrinx forms) which is the main cause of syringomyelia in both humans and animals. I am in the very rare percentage of an already extremely rare condition.

This is a degenerative/progressive condition that is almost impossible to recover from.

It is caused when there is a fluid filled cyst inside your spinal cord. This pushes nerves out in all directions which causes nerve… it’s not quite damage, but it acts like damage. My nerves translate most forms of heat and warmth as painful, as well as causing extreme bowel and bladder pain that feels like ants in my bowels and a lead balloon in my bladder. It’s very painful.

I have this cyst/syrinx (the term syrinx is the term for a cyst in your spine itself) in the exact same spot that my brother had several tumors, except his were on the outside of his brain stem/spinal cord, and mine inside. This means that his was operable, while mine can only be operable under very specific circumstances. We both see the same neurologist and he is very intrigued about how both our conditions were formed in-womb and legit looked like he wanted to study us when I first met him lol.

The operable conditions are when I have a 100% chance of going paralyzed because the conditions is pushing on the right nerves and they stop reacting entirely. The reason that this is the operable condition to remove the syrinx (which isn’t so much removing it as… popping it… which also means it can grow back…) is because that surgery itself has a 50% chance of paralysis as well. So, 50% chance of keeping from being paralyzed vs a 100% chance of being paralyzed, means that in that case the surgery wins.

I take gabapentin 4 times a day, every six hours, 100mg for every hour of the day. Gabapentin is a nerve medication that peaks in usage around 2-4 hours in, and after 6 hours it starts to leave your system. Which is why I went from 8 hours for 800mg to 6 hours for 600mg. Because the meds always wore off before I could take the next dose and left me in pain again.

Because of my condition I have degenerative muscles. I have a million things to fight here (top of which are a chronic fatigue and allergies that both get me down plus IBS if I eat something wrong oooof) but because of my conditions I can never hold a job outside of the house. I can barely attempt one in the house too. Im working on starting my own work with my preferred craft and my father supports me (in both love and finances but we live together so it’s not hard) because that’s probably gonna be the only way I have my own income in life. I work with fiber, wool mostly, making and using yarn. Mostly making. Mixing the fibers together on expensive equipment that i waited so long to save up for. I have a lot invested in it. It’s one of my special interests too, so it’s really nice to have that as work. Dad is disabled with special interests too, so he gets it.

Because of all of this, I’m actually in a program slightly more… intense, than PT. My town is a college town and in the college (the gym of which is DIRECTLY across the street from my apartment I’m super lucky with that) we have a program called Wellness Elevated. This is where you get a full semester’s access to the gym for the college/public (which is separated from the gym across the building which is for sports kids so there’s no fighting over room it’s smarter) where they give you a personal student trainer in the sports fitness program. These students are training to tailor a routine to each person’s needs. This program got me from low mobility and constant backaches to mid-low mobility. I can function and even leave the house at least half my days now. I’m even hoping to just. Go outside. During this summer. Bring a backpack with emergency meds and stuff and go to the park and stuff.

Sometimes (and I know this is connected cause other people with syringomyelia say this too) I have off days where I drop things CONSTANTLY. Like, there’s this weird ass signal in my brain that keeps opening my nerves or something. It’s strange and none of us know why it happens, but we all agree it’s like our brain isn’t sending the right signals that day. It’s wild. The muscles and such are fine, the hand just keeps opening to drop things.

I’m asexual and consider my libido to sort of be an annoyance more than anything. I am on several pills that destroy sex drive and that shit’s godly. Just wreck it I’m done, I’m bored, I’m over it. My pills are not for those that actively like and want sex. I am on so many pills and every new pill I get further from the norm and I love it. I know others hate it but I’m delighted not to be there anymore.

I also have autism, OCD, anxiety (which I was informed that OCD is an anxiety disorder itself which means that’s a given, and not that anxiety is a biproduct of OCD. Other way around.), ADHD, mysophonia, pica, and a few other scattered issues. I give the therapists my list, and they give me concerned looks.

Um. Idk what else. I have syringomyelia and this is a bit of what it’s like to be me.

#syringomyelia #actually disabled #syringomyelia awareness month #personal

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bowlinmarsha · 2 years

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October is Breast cancer awareness month. I appreciate it so much because it saved my life. Everyone knows that the symbol for breast cancer is the pink ribbon. That's because more women get breast cancer than men do, but they also can.

During awareness month, there is talk of checking your breasts and getting mammograms. This is important because the sooner a person finds the cancer, the less treatment they will need. If the cancer is caught real early, then the doctor can remove it during the biopsy. Although a biopsy is painful, still it's not as bad as surgery, chemo and radiation.

Of course, if the tumor has grown then a person will need the other options and these are hard. A partial or full mastectomy takes your breasts even tho it saves your life. Chemo has so many side effects such as feeling bad, losing your hair and neuropathy etc. Radiation is hard also on a person. If the cancer isn't caught early then it can spread to other parts of the body such as your liver or brain. This is called metastatic breast cancer. For metastatic breast cancer there are fewer options and often leads to death. That's why research is so important.

When I found my tumor, I really didn't think it was cancer. But because of the awareness, I wanted to get it checked out. I knew that lumps in your breast should be taken seriously. Even though most lumps aren't cancer, there is always that possibility.

Of course, if a person has insurance then it's easier to get a mammogram. If you don't have insurance, there are programs during the year to help. And during October there are more opportunities to get checked such as free or reduced mammograms.

In awareness month, there is more in the news and media about breast cancer. It can be easy to say " oh that's sad but doesn't affect me". It can affect you. Remember that one in 8 women get breast cancer. Although I don't have a family history of breast cancer, there are members of my extended family that have had breast cancer. They had treatment and survived. I don't want anyone to die from breast cancer. I don't even want people to suffer from it or the treatments.

In October, many companies do promotions with pink and the pink ribbon. I must admit, these caught my attention more than news coverage of breast cancer. I appreciate these companies promoting awareness and donating money to research.

So please do monthly exams (there are many resources on this on the internet) and schedule your mammograms. They are very important. You may not have risk factors for cancer, but it can happen to anyone.

I'm thankful that I'm a breast cancer survivor. God sure has blessed me. Treatment was hard, but I'm glad there is treatment available.

#breastcancerover50 #breastcancersurvivor #childofGod #marsha'smusings

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earthterri · 2 years

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Treatment for amnesia

To diagnose amnesia, a doctor will do a comprehensive evaluation to rule out other possible causes of memory loss, such as Alzheimer's disease, other forms of dementia, depression or a brain tumor. In this disorder, a person may lose personal memories and autobiographical information, but usually only briefly. Mild head injuries typically do not cause lasting amnesia, but more-severe head injuries may cause permanent amnesia.Īnother rare type of amnesia, called dissociative (psychogenic) amnesia, stems from emotional shock or trauma, such as being the victim of a violent crime. This is especially common in the early stages of recovery. Head injuries that cause a concussion, whether from a car accident or sports, can lead to confusion and problems remembering new information. Certain medications, such as benzodiazepines or other medications that act as sedatives.Degenerative brain diseases, such as Alzheimer's disease and other forms of dementia.Tumors in areas of the brain that control memory.Long-term alcohol abuse leading to thiamin (vitamin B-1) deficiency (Wernicke-Korsakoff syndrome).Lack of adequate oxygen in the brain, for example, from a heart attack, respiratory distress or carbon monoxide poisoning.Brain inflammation (encephalitis) as a result of an infection with a virus such as herpes simplex virus, as an autoimmune reaction to cancer somewhere else in the body (paraneoplastic limbic encephalitis), or as an autoimmune reaction in the absence of cancer.Possible causes of neurological amnesia include: These structures include the thalamus, which lies deep within the center of your brain, and the hippocampal formations, which are situated within the temporal lobes of your brain.Īmnesia caused by brain injury or damage is known as neurological amnesia. Any disease or injury that affects the brain can interfere with memory.Īmnesia can result from damage to brain structures that form the limbic system, which controls your emotions and memories. Normal memory function involves many parts of the brain. If someone you know has symptoms of amnesia, help the person get medical attention. False memories (confabulation), either completely invented or made up of genuine memories misplaced in timeĪnyone who experiences unexplained memory loss, head injury, confusion or disorientation requires immediate medical attention.Ī person with amnesia may not be able to identify his or her location or have the presence of mind to seek medical care.Additional signs and symptomsĭepending on the cause of the amnesia, other signs and symptoms may include: Dementia often includes memory loss, but it also involves other significant cognitive problems that lead to a decline in daily functioning.Ī pattern of forgetfulness is also a common symptom of mild cognitive impairment (MCI), but the memory and other cognitive problems in MCI aren't as severe as those experienced in dementia. They may understand they have a memory disorder.Īmnesia isn't the same as dementia. People with amnesia usually can understand written and spoken words and can learn skills such as bike riding or piano playing. Isolated memory loss doesn't affect a person's intelligence, general knowledge, awareness, attention span, judgment, personality or identity. Someone may recall experiences from childhood or know the names of past presidents, but not be able to name the current president, know what month it is or remember what was for breakfast. Recent memories are most likely to be lost, while more remote or deeply ingrained memories may be spared. Most people with amnesia have problems with short-term memory - they can't retain new information. Difficulty remembering past events and previously familiar information (retrograde amnesia).Difficulty learning new information following the onset of amnesia (anterograde amnesia).Regional Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (RNICU).Hospitalists & Internal Medicine Physicians.

#Treatment for amnesia

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