#will i cough like a tuberculosis patient?

[torgawl]

me going to a job interview with hay fever is gonna be fun

#the question is will they think i do drugs based on my red eyes? #will i cough like a tuberculosis patient? #will they think i have covid? #we may never know..... #✌️

[i-cant-sing]

godfather hawks with a sick reader, pls queen 💖💖💖

Yandere Godfather Hawks x sick Todoroki reader

Alright, so reader being sick is an opportunity that the Todoroki clan wouldn't miss because its one of the few times where they can coddle you unconditionally without you rebelling against them because you're too tired and weak to do so. Plus, they'd never let Hawks know that you're sick, no no, they don't need him meddling in and stealing away your attention (because you so very clearly prefer him over them).

So, it's gonna be one the very rare times when they've let Hawks to babysit you. It could be perhaps because Enji and Rei had to go to another country (Enji had to go for a mission, Rei left because she wanted to get some new clothes for you, but she doesn't trust the world to not hurt you), and Dabi's busy being villainy, Shotou is at his dorms preparing for exams, Natsuo has work at the hospital and Fuyumi had to go on a field trip with the school students, so you now have to be left in the care of your dear godfather Hawks for ten days.

You wee just as excited as Keigo for this week, because now you'll be able to do all the things your family, mostly Rei, wouldn't allow you to do. And the great thing is that Keigo was happy to let you do most of these things too. (Going to the carnival? Allowed! Going to the carnival with Katsuki? Denied!)

"Honey, I'm home!" Keigo yelled as he entered the Todoroki house, hoping to be greeted by you. But he didn't get a reply.

Worried, he kept on calling for you as he searched room after room until he finally found you in your bed, sleeping peacefully.

Keigo was about to jump on you, but decided against it when he saw how comfortable you looked with your cheek smushed against the pillow, making your lips pucker up like a fish.

He smiled. "So cute." He whispered, as he poked your cheek, brows immeadiately furrowing at how warm you were.

"Y/n?" He shook you gently. "Honey, wake up- there you go." You groaned, weakly opening your eyes. "Kei? When did you get here?"

"Just a few minutes ago. You're burning up, what happened? Are you okay?" He asked, sitting on your bed, brushing your hair away as he continued to rest his hand against your forehead.

You shrugged. "I don't know. I was fine last night." You yawned before sitting up, taking a huge breath in. "I'll get ready. Do you wanna eat breakfast here or out? Mom made sure to prepare some meals before leaving." You said, before getting off the bed only to get dizzy as you stumbled back a little, Keigo catching you and bringing you back to bed. "Woah! Where are you going?"

"Well, I didn't wanna go to KFC, out of respect to you but I guess-"

"No, you're not going anywhere. You're too sick."

You rolled your eyes. "Am not. It's just a cold. Now, let's go-"

"No." Keigo stated, crossing his arms across his chest. "You can barely move, you're too weak to stand your own weight, you're sick. And since I am in charge, I'm telling you that we're not going out."

You glared at him for a minute before getting under the blanket with a huff. "Way to sound like Rei." He heard you mumble.

You're comparing him to Rei? Keigo sighed. Kids say the most hurtful things when they're sick. Rei would've had you strapped to bed in a strait jacket-

"I'll get you some food and medicine." Keigo said, walking out of your room. "We can go out when you're better."

You did not get better. In fact, you became way worse than before. What was supposed to be a day or two of slight fever turned into a 6 days of you puking your guts out, coughing up like a tuberculosis patient while running a high fever.

"Ara ara-" Keigo said sympathetically as he held your hair back while you emptied your stomach out. "There we go, there we go. That's it, rinse your mouth now and then we can go back to bed." He led you back to bed, you shifting much of your weight on to him because you're too tired to be moving without getting dizzy.

"Alright, I'm gonna call a doctor."

"What for?" You weakly asked, letting Keigo put on a cold rag on your forehead.

"Well, clearly you're not getting any better with home remedies, so it's time to get some professional help-"

"No, I know its because I'm sick. I'm not stupid." You said, and Keigo liked that your sarcasm didn't go away with your health. "I meant, why call a doctor when you can call Natsuo. He does all my medical checkups anyways, he knows me better than any doctor."

Keigo stared at you before humming. "That is true. Okay, I'll call him." He said before leaving the room.

An hour later, Keigo returned with a doctor- not Natsuo, who diagnosed you with pneumonia. The doctor prescribed you with some highly potent antibiotics and gave Keigo some general measures to take to relieve your symptoms.

When he returned, you'd sat up in bed, resting against the headboard.

"Why didn't you call Natsuo?" You said, just before our coughing fit began. Keigo ran over and covered your mouth with a tissue, heart dropping as he saw specks of blood in it.

Pouring you a glass of water and giving you the new medicines, he replied. "I did call him, but he was busy so I called this guy." He sighed before sitting on the bed. "Did you talk to your dad today?" You nodded. "Was only able to get a few words in before mom took the phone from him. She said that she's missing me terribly."

"You didn't tell her about your health?"

You scoffed. "And what? Have her freak out about it and let her rush home so that she can smother me with her affection while going on a whole lecture about how it's all my fault because I didn't listen to her when I ate a burger from outside a year ago? No, thanks." Keigo snickered. "There is no use worrying her, not when I have you to be my nurse." You groaned as you rubbed your legs.

"They still ache?" He asked, concerned. You nodded. "Dad or Sho would warm up their hands and I'd use it as a warm compress on my muscles."

"Well, we don't need them. Scoot over, pooch. Let your beloved godfather show you his magic." Keigo said before moving away your hands and replacing them with his own. He began massaging your legs with just the right amount of pressure, and it helped the ache. Perhaps it was because of the medicine or maybe it was actually because of Keigo's hands, but you fell asleep soon, and Keigo continued to massage your muscles for another hour or so, only leaving to make you dinner, not feeling guilty for lying to you about calling Natsuo.

He didn't need him meddling in with his time with you.

-

"It looks like I'm the only who's eating all of this." Keigo grumbled, eating more of the food that Rei had cooked and froze for you. He only had to defrost it and it was ready. As much as Keigo would've liked to eat takeout or something with you, he can't risk you getting any sicker. So, mom's food it is.

You shrugged before putting more food on his plate. "You should eat more. Mom will check and if she finds out that I skipped meals because I was busy vomiting, she'll just- combust. So, eat up." Keigo caught your wrist and playfully glared at you. "Then perhaps you should eat more instead of dumping it all in my plate. God knows you've puked half your weight." He exaggerated as he gave you more servings, ignoring you whining about not being able to eat more.

"I just wish we could go out and have some fun. This is- ugh I just hate being sick!" You grumbled. Keigo nodded. "The timing is unfortunate." Actually, the timing was perfect. If you ever got sick in front of Rei, no less than with something like pneumonia, oh boy, you'd never see the light of day again because the outside is no longer safe for you. "But we can have fun at home too."

"Yeah? Like what?"

-

"I have literally never ever been happier before!" You squealed as you scored at the machine again. While you took an afternoon nap, Keigo took the liberty of surprising you with an arcade machine- specifically, the Pac Man one.

Then for dinner, he had hired a magician, a circus, and a mariachi band, and they all performed one by one in your massive garden, all for you and Keigo, so it like a super cool birthday party but only you and Keigo as the attendees.

Not only that, but the next day, he had set up a whole projector and comfy seats to make a "movie theater at home" kind of situation, and with all the movies that Rei thought were too gorey or scary or violent for you to see (they were not, she just won't allow you to watch anything above PG 12). He also had a chef fly in from Italy, all just to make you some very authentic pizzas with your favourite toppings.

As the week came to an end, your health got better and Keigo gave you one last surprise.

"Oh my god." You couldn't believe your eyes. This- this is literally what dreams are made of.

Keigo chuckled, ruffling your hair. "I know it's something special that you only do with Enji, but I thought that since you've been such a nice patient, I should give you a parting gift."

By parting gift, Keigo meant the ice cream van he had hired and parked outside your house. He knew you and Enji had those cute "father-daughter" ice cream dates, so he brought one. Hopefully, Enji won't take this as Keigi trying to replace him as a father.

"Enjoy-" you cut him with a bug hug.

"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" You screamed, and Keigo kissed your forehead. "YOU'RE THE BEST FATHER EVER!" You wanted to say "godfather", but you accidentally said "father" instead.

"Y/n?" Uh oh.

Enji stood there, along with Rei, although Rei looked like she was gonna enjoy the roast chicken that her husband was about to cook.

"Enji- Endeavour! This- this is not what it looks like!" Keigo tried to explain, but Enji was already storming towards him. His thunderous steps, the rage in his eyes, all were proof of Keigo about to die.

"Daaaad! I just accidentally said "father"! You're the best father-" but you were cut off by Rei hugging you to her chest, effectively muffling any words you had to save Keigo.

"Aww, I missed you baby!" Rei smiled, eyes twinkling in anticipation as she prayed hard that today was the day that bird was out for her life forever.

"Endeavour-!" Keigo barely managed to escape the fireball that Enji threw his way, instantly going in the air and flying away.

"I'll see you later, Y/n!" Keigo said as he flew away.

"Okay-"

"No, you won't." Enji and Rei said simultaneously, with Enji joining in on the hug, petting your hair as he asked if you were okay, quickly pulling your hand down that was waving at Keigo.

It's been a while since I wrote for Todoroki clan or godfather hawks🤧🤧🤧

#yandere hawks #yandere hawks x reader #yandere godfather hawks #yandere keigo takami #yandere keigo #yandere keigo x reader #yandere bnha #bnha headcanons #yandere mha #bnha imagines #yandere todoroki clan #yandere endeavor #yandere todoroki family #todoroki family #rei todoroki #yandere rei todoroki #yandere rei #yandere todoroki

[ladymariayuri]

Funny thing happened to me in my video game that I want to post to my twitch channel aka my tumblr blog but I cant because im literally coughing like a dying tuberculosis patient laughing at it and its nasty horrible. Like straight up bordering on werewolf noises. Being sick is awful

#My mic needed to stop randomly turning the fuck on

[canyonkingdom]

love i share

(robocar poli oneshot)

(tw: illness, depression, assisted $u|c|d3)

It's the dawn of my creation. The moment I opened my eyes, the world felt otherworldly.

The first faces I saw were of shock,

but they were basking in unmasked love.

They were my family. Poli and Roy served as my older brothers full of responsibility dare they take up. Amber was my mentor, my undying platonic strewn over. (And whenever leaking spur, my mind was all about her uncontrollably.)

I had been the cheery little brother my team, my family, had grown to see. We were happy on our own, but felt happier ruling over the town. Superiority at its finest is when we plead our strength. We have arms and legs while the inept citizens have wheels to compensate.

We were cars, robots, robocars living until the day we rust hundreds of years later. And there was our leader, our stunning, intelligent, beloved leader. She was a human, unlike all of us superiors, but we grew to love her as part of our team.

"I promise," the sweet dripping from her voice, "I will never leave you." Her love bloomed.

She called me Helly. I was the most loved, yet most hated. Childlike and preserved I show, her tiny hands roaming my metal frame as she looked for imperfections.

She was a mother.

Only pure sweet I felt, none drenched in bitterness. A holding hand reaching me out, tenderness when I touch.

Us four do her every bidding. Independent we are, yet dependent on love. She nurtured us despite her lackings. Every rescue, a fresh coat of paint. Every accident, kisses goodnight. We were grown and we cherish a mother's love dearly.

One dawn in October, I scurried to the control room like a lost rat. My mind didn't fathom any activities yet I felt energetic. I was halted by a ear piercing scream.

Mother woke up. I snuck to the door, peeking slightly. Breathing so fast she did, her hair unkempt. Her hand wavered to the air, looked like she was touching something.

Or someone.

"Is it my time now?" she asked bewilderingly.

Slowly, she nodded, I could feel tears running through her. She sighed, yet a big grin flashed on her face. Light through the dusk basking in the headquarters. I felt confused.

I brushed it off soon after.

I should've come back to it.

It deeply hurt us when October came.

"Tuberculosis." I wish I could unhear the doctor's stern words.

How couldn't we notice? Her frequent coughs, fevers, tiredness; Smart us robots are, we aren't devoid of knowledge when in need.

"It has spread outside of her lungs." I forced a sob. "There's a chance she may survive, but I believe it's by a wide margin."

Doctor's appointments mother always missed, as she never came, seeing herself perfectly fine. She didn't care about her deteriorating immune system, even if she couldn't stand up no more. I should've suspected something when she always tightly gripped her chest, wheezing in clear out of breath state, yet I failed to see her pain amidst.

"How much is treatment gonna cost?" Amber asked. Her eyes glowed with hope despite the previous words.

"It's three thousand dollars for the medicine, and if the patient wishes to be confined, it's twenty three thousand."

"That's pocket money!" Roy bellowed a laugh to lighten the grueling mood. "We'll do it-"

"No."

She was smiling.

"I refuse to take the treatment." She repeated in a longer statement.

The doctor was impaled with sympathy.

Arguing aroused at home. Once a happy household drowned in bickering.

"Why would you refuse treatment, Jin?" Amber asked devastatingly. Her voice cracked every cry and her anger chilled me inside. Laidback once now fuming.

Comfortable in her orange pajamas, "I would still die in a few years even if i take the treatment." her voice was small, weaker than of Ambers.

"But you would still live longer..." my voice quivered when I said that statement. I wanted her to live yet I wished for her death.

"My decision." she simply said. A small smile she wore. Her tired eyes extenuated her frail body.

Poli and Roy didn't talk to her out of anger, only when there are rescue missions. Amber frequently tried to get her to reconsider, yet she stayed true to her word. Mourning was pain in their vocabulary.

But I only wished her best.

She still ran the rescue station beneath her crumbling health. Rescue missions continued, the town blissfully unaware of her sickness. Her pain left ignored. Countless pleas made; yet she never complied.

"Please, Jin. Poli and Roy only want you to get better." Amber tried hard, downward spiral ensues.

"They should respect my dying wish." her lips were chapped as forced a smile.

Nothing was the same.

Arguments erupted about her illness I tend to stay sway from. I cower every shout, I fly away when glass breaks. My fingers touch the outskirts of town, where I banter with the inferior townsfolk.

"Wanna play ball, Helly?" Annoying voice Bruner used, I refused instantly. I'm weeping in my own sadness.

I stood at the edge of the cliff, admiring the stars above. I saw her eyes glowing in the stars. Her smile a million stars I felt.

I felt her love.

Yet I can never feel it.

The undying pleasure where love once shined basked in underlying darkness. Depressing environment I flew in, blooming flowers wilting.

Poli and Roy became distant. Sad glares chipped up their frames, dipped in hatred. They didn't speak with her (I didn't understand how they could leave her love untouched.) and came to the headquarters less and less. I worried for them, but I didn't care.

They left her.

Amber stayed, health deteriorated. Her tears made her rust, bright paint once ladled in sad rustic orange. I kept her bright, painting over the scars. Yet they still persisted. Her pain leveled with the tuberculosis.

They couldn't take care of themselves no more.

Thankfully, the missions died down. I became Amber's nurse, ironically. (Mother didn't want a caretaker watching her every move.) Calm her premature tears, engine oil leaking, I become despondent seeing everyone lose hope in my eyes.

I was in the repair center, she looked me dead in the eyes. I didn't feel love pulsating from her veins.

It's sad.

It's been months. Mother's health is down the drain. Amber was getting better, her mental state didn't. Her days spent by looking over the port, finessing the sea. She shouted at me when I disrupted her peace of mind (which it wasn't, she went insane). Amber long ago stopped convincing mother to take treatment.

I have been on her side since illness shown. Making small talk, and didn't rush her need to get treatment. I only wished her wish to come true, live her best life as I serve her day and night. But her love never bloomed once again, like a wilting flower, bits chopped.

It was a cold October night, I finished my patrol immediately going back to her side. I'm greeted by Amber in the door, her eyes sunk, her metal rusting once more. I smile at her dearly, and she smiles back. I make my way to her room.

"Helly," she says bluntly.

I open my mouth to speak, yet interrupted. "Meet me at the garden, strictly midnight." her frail voice reminds me.

This was going down a dark path, but I trust my guts, trust her mind. Her body was of thin breadsticks and a orange bonnet she wore, lost of all her hair. Yet one sweet smile still remained on her face, though pale and wrinkled.

Midnight came by. I spot Amber in the race track. She was sobbing. She was always like this and I leave her be. I fly to the garden solemnly, spotting her amongst the array of flowers.

I retract my propeller as I land. It was so peaceful. She was looking at the sky above, twinkling stars and the glowing moon. I love seeing mother happy.

She looks at me. She smiles. "You came."

"I always will." I reply.

"Helly, do you know why I didn't want treatment?"

I sigh. "Why?"

"I wanted to die, Helly."

My eyes widen with that answer. Never did I see her as suicidal, she showered us with her affection and never showed herself her own. I felt terrible, rust crawling through my metal frame.

"Don't think about it the wrong way," she sighs heavily, "I love all of you, Poli, Roy, Amber, and especially you. But-" she paused.

"Why?" I blurt out painfully.

"They're calling me, Helly. Heaven." angelic tears, "My dad, he's calling me. I've got to leave this world."

Her dad has been a controversial topic. Like her, he had gave her love, looking up to him. Yet he died, sadly.

"Why?" I repeat, more sincerely.

"I miss his love, Helly."

Her painfully stupid but passionate decision shot daggers through my running engine. Death called her attention and was willing to sacrifice it just to feel love.

I forgot she was a real human, one that was amazing.

"I'm sorry," I say,

"I love you," I mutter.

She died, her glow fading in my arms. Her skin as pale as snow. Amber wailed so hard, cursing the world. I felt tears streak my frame.

Mother was a joy.

"I promise," the sweet dripping from her voice, "I will never leave you." Her love bloomed.

Lies.

For once, I hated her love. Selfishness engulfed her being. We wanted her to be okay, and she didn't consider our feelings in the matter. All she wanted was to feel love.

Love.

Poli and Roy returned for the funeral. Awkwardness ensued when we sat together. Though they were deeply cracked inside, they found a way to smile. All of us. Amber's rust didn't show.

"How are you?" Roy asks, his voice husky from crying.

"You left us." Amber mutters harshly.

"I'm sorry." Roy sobs, "I- i'm sorry, I was angry a- and I didn't- I didn't fucking- fuck!"

Poli kept his cool, weeping in silence.

Her dark umbre casket lowered down and covered in dirt. Flowers dumped at the grave. Poli on his knees, begging for forgiveness. I stood there blankly.

Life never returned to normal, for me. Poli and Roy wiggled themselves into Amber's forgiveness, yet I enver forgave them further. They were stupid for even returning after leaving her for a simple misunderstanding of decisions.

Yet the only reason they returned was because of,

me.

Their stupid asses will never know. Never further looking at the autopsy report. They will never know her smile when I wrapped my arms around her neck, the crack of her bones, how I sobbed on her body throughout the night. When Amber found it, she was speechless. Thought she died of her illness.

I hid the autopsy safe in my room, none suspecting a single thing.

That night, she was persistent.

"Kill me, Helly."

Her love blinded me.

I felt it.

Her love, shining once more.

I watched Poli, Roy, and Amber hug each other goodbye. I watched the consequences of my decision thrive.

-///-

I cried a little while making this and that says a lot

pls don't cancel me /j

#robocar poli #oneshot #robocar poli oneshot #i love me some angst #robocar poli helly #helly loves mother #no one abandons mother #robocar poli amber #robocar poli roy

[transjudas]

i’ve been thinking about what the horniest version of live destroya moans is since the band reunited (this came about because i know very strongly and adamantly what the number one horniest version is we’ll get to that). here’s my top 4:

oct 15th 2022 at the forum. while i do think this is a very sexy version, in a mark me down as scared and horny way with the eye contact and the dracula of it all. but gerard himself isn’t giving me particularly horny vibes himself. 

detroit! i feel like there’s a little bit of horniness here with the hand on the face and that look they give at the very end there. but it’s like. giving me horny tuberculosis victim (nurse? nurse who got sick from a patient? idk. it’s the coughing). so it’s kind of niche horniness. horny mitigated by Illness. the struggle is real.

here we gooooo! eden destroya coming in so hot. runner up to the horny destroya moan crown, with the falling onto their knees, the heaving chest, the hair pulling. yeah. yeah. this is the shit i’m looking for. this isn’t about looking sexy, it’s about feeling the moanment. amazing.

DRUMROLL PLEASE FOR HORNIEST DESTROYA MOANS.

THAT’S RIGHT IT IS THE VERY FIRST SHOW OF THE NEW ERA. MCR RETURN 2019. god. god. the fucking facial expression, the head tilted back. the hand up and then when he pulls it down and pulls his fingers into his palm. the way he’s bending a bit, the fucking leg trembles??? holy fucking shit. i don’t know what came over gerard there. if it was just the thrill of being back, what. it doesn’t matter that we’ve seen him in dresses, skirts, short shorts with smooth smooth legs. nothing he’s worn or done since this have surpassed the absolute horniness dripping off this moment. Thank you Gerard. 

#mcr #mcredit #gerardwayedit #gerard way #my chemical romance #destroya #flashing cw #long post #i've been thinking about this for 24 hours

[placegrenette]

Longing for Dick and Laughing at Death: The Story of Diseased Pariah News

All right, Tumblr, gather round. This is not my usual style here, and I have missed World AIDS Day by a number of days, but I searched for “Diseased Pariah News” on this nonsense site and got all of two coherent hits, and that does not sit right with me. So let me tell y’all a story of black humor, porn, a pre-venture-capital-overrun Bay Area, lovingly photographed penises, recipe testing, friendship, and death. It’s all true but I wasn’t there; sources are linked throughout and compiled at the end.

Cover of Issue #3. This and all illustrations courtesy of the GLBT Historical Society and Calisphere, the online archives of the University of California. Support your librarians and archivists, kids!

“It’s My Party and I’ll Die If I Want To”

The short version of the story is: Diseased Pariah News was a zine that ran for eleven issues, all published between 1990 and 1999. It was edited almost completely by, and addressed pretty much exclusively to, PWAs, or People With AIDS.

To remind you whippersnappers: to know you were HIV positive in 1990 was to know that you were going to die a lot sooner than average, and probably not peacefully. As Jonathan Kauffman wrote in “Get Fat, Don’t Die,” a 2020 Hazlitt essay on DPN: “So many of the narratives of the time circled around two themes: memorializing the terror and adulterated sweetness of being alive as everyone they knew was dying, and shearing through the cordon of dehumanizing indifference that the public had erected around plague-struck communities. The experience of daily diarrhea or constant nausea may have been too visceral, too private, or simply too grinding to fit into the arc of a plot.” The diarrhea could go on for months, by the way. And that was separate from debilitating fatigue, potential blindness (from CMV retinitis), or constant prickly pain in your hands and feet (from peripheral neuropathy).

This was years before the development of protease inhibitors and “the cocktail” could prevent HIV-positive patients from developing full-blown AIDS; AZT could slow things down, but it came with nasty side effects. AIDS was not like the tuberculosis, or rather like the romantic conception of tuberculosis, in which one’s dying status could be signaled by paleness and the occasional discreet cough. AIDS was painful, and complicated.

So somebody had to have a sense of humor about all this.

Co-founder, original Serene Editor, and the guy who gets the credit for having the idea in the first place, Tom Shearer

Tom Shearer was a computer hardware engineer living in San Francisco, running a zine on the side called GAWK (it stood for Gay Artists and Writers Kollective) when a reader named Beowulf Thorne (more on him later) complained that GAWK looked terrible. Shearer challenged Thorne to do better; Thorne rose to the challenge; one thing led to another and the pair ended up collaborating on a whole new zine, this one focused on the experience of dealing with AIDS. Shearer got the title from an Advocate comic in which a flight attendant asked a passenger: “Would you like the smoking, non-smoking, or diseased pariah section?” (This was during a time when airlines not only had smoking sections but were occasionally refusing outright to transport PWAs.)

From the very beginning, Diseased Pariah News was meant to be funny, helpful, and obsessed with dick. Page 3 of the first issue lists a number of practical steps PWAs can take (“Call Pac Bell for low income phone rates”). There was also a Resources page, dedicated to advocacy groups, support groups, even mail-order pharmacies easy to work with, anyone whom the editors judged would treat PWAs fairly and not waste their time. In between those two was the debut of the column, “Get Fat, Don’t Die!,” dedicated to high-calorie recipes specifically designed to combat wasting disease, illustrated by a naked man in a come-hither pose; the debut of the column “Porn Potato,” which reviewed porn videos while keeping a much better sense of narrative than its subjects; a short-short story titled “I Fisted Jesse Helms”; and a contest to guess Shearer’s T-cell count. (Not included yet was the centerfold feature, which would include the model’s history of infections and T-cell count alongside his full-frontal glory; that would come in later issues.)

Shearer died in April 1991, as the second issue of DPN was going to press. (”Thanks to Mike for guessing optimistically high,” ran the conclusion to the T-cell count contest.) Issue #3 starts with Thorne recounting the aftermath of his death, including a visit to “Akbar and Jeff’s Cremation Hut,” and then, contemplating taking over DPN by himself, allowing himself a rare show of mourning:

Seriously though, the reality of Tommy's death isn't funny. But then, neither is it funny that the first President to preside over the age of AIDS couldn't make himself say the name of the syndrome. Or that a septuagenarian senator would obstruct prevention programs because he would rather see his nation's children die than "promote deviant sexual behavior" (all the while forcing us to endure tobacco subsidies and its retinue of smoking related deaths). Or...well, you know enough about this yourself, you fill in the blanks. What can I say about this situation? You can either laugh or cry, but crying gives you crow's feet.

Fortunately Thorne wasn’t alone for the rest of the ride: as “Cranky Editor,” he was joined by Tom Ace, christened “Humpy Editor,” and Michael Botkin, who already had a reputation around the Bay Area as a suffering-no-fools journalist and critic, as “Sleazy Editor.” DPN had found an eager audience to begin with--Shearer and Thorne had to double back to the printer when the first print run of the first issue sold out--but at its peak it had a circulation of 5,000 and could be bought in dozens of bookstores across multiple countries. The guys were dedicated and passionate without being self-important, and it showed.

Left to right: Sleazy, Cranky, and Humpy, in an undated photo (1994?), for a DPN Christmas card.

All eleven issues have been archived and can be read in PDF form courtesy of the Gay and Lesbian Historical Society and the University of California’s online archiving efforts. Highlights include “AIDS Barbie,” in #8; an interview with playwright and ACT UP co-founder Larry Kramer in #9; Thorne’s evisceration of And the Band Played On author Randy Shilts (who had himself just died of AIDS) also in #9; and the Opportunistic Infection Merit Badges (OIMBs), introduced by Botkin in #10:

The outcome will be an array of badges and ribbons which tell the educated viewer, at a glance, just how progressed your HIV disease is. It will be particularly useful for health care providers, who instead of taking lengthy histories will instead be able to briefly study a PWA's array of service ribbons, badges, etc.... a careful study of my OIMBs would quickly reveal my obscenely low T-cell count (17 at last testing), the fact that I've had PCP, peripheral neuropathy, MAC, wasting syndrome, cryptococcal meningitis, and herpes, and that I've taken every nucleoside analogue known to man. This would allow those who want to fawn over or avoid me to act accordingly, and avoid the frustration of mistaken acquaintanceship.

I can’t speak for you, but the badges were what stuck in my mind: humor black enough to communicate the bleakness of its source. It’s funny how history can seem incommunicable. Odds are you reading this are young enough that if I try to tell you what it felt like to look down Lexington Avenue on the afternoon of September 11, 2001, and see a great column of smoke and no cars, you can place the reference but probably not the devastation. People dealing with the aftereffects of COVID now are having a hard time gaining empathy for what it feels like to have their body betray them; the distance of a couple decades or so is not going to help. To take history at all seriously is to admit that the various horrors of the past are ungraspable. But the badges allow you a glimpse of what it was like to live in the midst of this particular horror.

Which is not to say that the DPN guys were particularly concerned with history. Hamilton-style musings about legacies would have left them cold. History had, in a sense, been stolen from them, and so they were going to embrace the present they had left. Especially Thorne, who would be the guiding force behind DPN for the rest of its run.

The Story-within-a-Story of Beowulf “Biffy Mae” Thorne, Writer, Editor, Graphic Designer, Illustrator, Cartoonist, Recipe-Tester, Critic, Know-It-All, and Horndog Extraordinaire

and also, a babe. I don't care what your gender/sexuality combination is, you would've been at risk of doing some pining.

Beowulf Thorne--no, that wasn’t his birth name, but it seems to have been the name he used exclusively during DPN’s run, so that’s what we’ll stick with--was born in 1964 and grew up in southern California, but fled to the Bay Area in 1983. I saw one source say he tested HIV-positive as early as 1986, which is to say before the term “HIV” was even in widespread use. Suffice to say, dude had to start contemplating his mortality far, far earlier than he should have. He was enrolled at UC-Santa Cruz for a while, studying biology, but that whole contemplating-his-mortality part led him eventually to focus on graphic design and advocacy: first with various condom-promoting organizations, such as the Condom Resource Center in Oakland, and then DPN.

If he hadn’t been doomed, Thorne probably would’ve been one of those guys resented by his acquaintances, just for the sheer number of things he was good at. He was not only DPN’s chief writer and editor but its layout artist and the designer of its related merchandise (not to mention the OIMBs). While working as a graphic designer for Addison-Wesley, he would occasionally piss textbook authors off by pointing out errors in their text, even though he wasn’t supposed to be factchecking: he just couldn’t help it. He did full-page, multi-panel “Captain Condom” comics for several DPN issues; that takes some time and effort now, never mind with Adobe Illustrator as it was three decades ago. He tested all of the “Get Fat, Don’t Die!” recipes. He was a gardener who specialized in orchids, cacti, and meat-eating plants, and beautifully detailed plant sketches are scattered in his collected papers.

1994 version of the Condom Educator's Guide, co-written by Thorne and Daniel Bao (who would later work on DPN issues) and designed by Thorne on "his trusty Macintosh."

And he could write. Reading him, you’d never guess the man wasn’t a trained writer, or is now twenty-three years dead: his voice is unstoppable. I’m not the type who laughs out loud at books easily, and while reading the DPN back issues, I found myself giggling repeatedly at the turns of phrase in Thorne’s porn reviews.

Oh, yeah: he also was Porn Potato. And just generally an unabashed horndog. He and Ace met when Ace saw Thorne’s personal ad: “Relatively stable 25-year-old design student seeks other adventurous good-looking men for mutual sodomy and oral copulation.” When a POZ writer asked Thorne about this in 1997, Thorne--who by this point was dealing with neuropathy and killer candida that ate his gums down to the bone--said cheerfully of Ace: “He’s quite buxom. I’ve always had a letch on him.” If Thorne and DPN stood for anything, it was the conviction that an AIDS diagnosis could not take away the right and responsibility to live, and living included being sexual.

But You Already Know the End of the Story

The hardest issue of DPN to read is the eleventh and last one, which came out in 1999, three years after #10. “In the eternity since DPN #10 appeared,” ran a note under the masthead, “66.67% of the editorial staff expired.” Botkin had died in 1996; that left Thorne and Tom Ace. By this point there was a new set of treatments available, but they worked a lot better if you hadn’t already been fighting HIV (plus the side effects of AZT) for over a decade.

One of the last DPN pieces Thorne wrote was on viatication, the practice of selling your life-insurance policy to be able to collect cash while you’re still alive. His health was failing pretty fast at that point--another of the last pieces is about CMV retinitis blinding him--but the article is practical, funny, and devoid of self-pity. It will break your heart nonetheless.

Deciding to viaticate my policy started with some soulful contemplation. The first thing I had to face was my own impending mortality. It was as though signing the paperwork obliged me to kick the bucket on some kind of schedule. For an obsessive taskmaster such as myself, there were some control issues....

Finally, there's a little roulette. The closer to death's door you are—on an actuarial basis—the more moolah you get. You don't want to cash in too early for a measly 50% (two-year life expectancy). On the other hand, if you wait for that 80% jackpot (six-month life expectancy), you might croak before you can enjoy it all. I was feeling pretty grim at that point, so the time seemed right.*

* For all you voyeuristic sickies, It was necrotic periodontitis.

He died on May 8, 1999. Reportedly his friends tried and failed to create a snowglobe with some of his ashes and Astroglide lube.

Tom Ace, miraculously, is still in possession of his mortal coil, or at least was as of 2010, when Vice interviewed him. Kauffman was able to talk to several of Thorne’s friends for his 2020 Hazlitt article. Beyond that I didn’t find a lot of easily accessible information about DPN’s survivors, either editors or readers.

Why Remember Diseased Pariah News

It’s not for everyone, I’ll grant you that. It never was. Even setting aside the sharp (necessary) line it drew between PWAs and HIV-negative onlookers, it was very much a product of a small, dedicated group with its own goals. If you are not a white gay cis man, you were not going to feel seen, as the modern saying goes, reading DPN. And if you don’t draw as strong a link between sex and vitality as its editors did, the repeated explicit celebration of dick might well put you off.

It’s still worth remembering, and celebrating. DPN is the kind of work that’s not easy to preserve. There were thousands and thousands of zines in the 1990s, and we’ve got no hope of learning from all of them, or even a good percentage of them. Eventually the people who can remember getting zines in the mail (my husband still sometimes uses the term “trib,” short for “minimum acceptable contribution”) will be gone. Our ability to communicate has expanded so much in the last three decades that it’s hard to archive and learn from all that communication--think of all the lost MySpace and Geocities pages, bulletin boards, emails. Preservation will be by definition selective, and later generations’ sense of what was actually happening thereby skewed, but we ought to preserve what we can.

But also: these guys were trying to bring laughs, help, and comfort to a vulnerable population, and in 2022 we like to think we approve of that kind of thing. Meanwhile they themselves were vulnerable, far more so than they should have been, and they recognized the unfairness of their situation but they did not whine. They were brave in the face of death, which is hard, and physical pain and the deterioration of the body, which is even harder. And we still in these supposedly enlightened times don’t have a good mechanism for thinking of campy gay men as brave. They weren’t looking to be remembered. We should remember anyway.

Sources

All the back issues of DPN are archived on Calisphere, the archives of the University of California, with Beowulf Thorne’s papers. Direct links: #1 (1990), #2 (1991), #3 (1991), #4 (1991), #5 (1992), #6 (1992), #7 (1992), #8 (1993), #9 (1994), #10 (1996), #11 (1999). Some of the information comes from this collection of contemporary articles Thorne clipped.

Tom Ace, “Thorne on Our Side,” POZ, August 1, 1999

Mark Allen, “That’s Not Funny, Or Is It?,” Vice, December 31, 2010

Jonathan Kauffman, “Get Fat, Don’t Die,” Hazlitt, April 28, 2020

Greg Lugliani, “Last Laughs,” POZ, October 1, 1997

#diseased pariah news #aids epidemic #queer history #longer essay #america as work in progress

[your-interpol-agent]

How painful would dying of tuberculosis be? Would it be dangerous to carry/hug/touch a person that has recently died of TB?

Tuberculosis is airborne, which means that you'll get it if you breathe in the cough of an infected person. There is a risk if you embalm the body of someone who died of TB that you get it by breathing in the fluids of the body, but there is no risk by simply carrying a person who recently died of TB, shaking hands with a patient.

Tuberculosis is not always attacking the lungs, it can attack lots of other organs too. The final cause of death may be either multiple organ failure or internal haemorrhage (bleeding) in the lungs, which may happen when the advancing destruction erodes into an artery.

The symptoms include:

prolonged cough (sometimes with blood)

chest pain

weakness

fatigue

weight loss

fever

night sweats.

Infected people who are not ill yet don't transmit it. People with HIV are more likely to catch it and die from it.

If there's any medical professional in the room and what I said was wrong, please tell me.

#medicine #tuberculosis #4/10

[girlactionfigure]

In the fall of 1943, a group of Italian doctors (left to right)—Giovanni Borromeo, Adriano Ossicini, and Vittorio Sacerdoti—got together to come up with a fake disease called Syndrome K.

Their goal was to save the Jewish people of Rome who had fled to their hospital seeking protection by spreading rumors of a deadly, disfiguring disease that was so contagious that the Nazis would want to be nowhere near the vicinity of the patients.

Concocting a fake disease also allowed the Italian doctors and hospital staff to easily distinguish actual patients from the Jewish people who were seeing refuge. “Syndrome K was put on patient papers to indicate that the sick person wasn’t sick at all, but Jewish. We created those papers for Jewish people as if they were ordinary patients, and in the moment when we had to say what disease they suffered? It was Syndrome K, meaning ‘I am admitting a Jew,’ as if he or she were ill, but they were all healthy ... The idea to call it Syndrome K, like Kesselring or Kappler, was mine," said Ossicini in an interview with the Italian newspaper La Stampa in 2016.

"Kesselring" was a reference to Albert Kesselring, the Nazi commander who was in charge of the occupation of Italy. "Kappler" was a reference to Herbert Kappler, a Nazi police chief in Rome who was responsible for the killings of 335 hostages (including 57 Jews) during World War 2.

There were special rooms designated for those infected with Syndrome K and Jewish children were encouraged to cough to discourage Nazi inspectors from entering. “The Nazis thought it was cancer or tuberculosis, and they fled like rabbits,” said Vittorio Sacerdoti in an interview with BBC in 2004.

#WW2 #Shoah #Syndrome K

[multifandom-worlds]

Reincarnated Love: Chapter 1 - Love in the 40's

Genre: Angst and Fluff all mixed together

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: death, illness, angst, hits ya right in the feels

Author's Note: This idea came to me from this song so I figured I would write it! As it stands, this will be a 4 chapter story! Enjoy 💕

Chapter 2

Tagging: @hannahshattuck @otome-and-fanfiction @simplyholl @buckyalpine

September 1943

"Curse this bullshit war!" Viviana cursed as she helped her husband ready himself for Howard Stark's exhibition that he and Steve would attend. "Why must they take you away from me, Bucky? You're being taken from me not even three years after we married." 

Bucky wraps his arms around his wife, noting how much weight she's lost since they wed. Would there be anything left of her when he returned? He rests his forehead against hers, a soft sigh escaping his lips. "I know, Doll. I'll come back to you, I promise. I've only just gotten you; I’m not ready to return to a life where you’re not in it. Not now, not ever.” 

A soft, salty tear rolls down Viviana’s cheek, which she wipes away before Bucky notices. Now was not time for tears, not while he was still in front of her, even if he would be leaving for the evening. He steps back, breaking his grip, before taking one last look at him. She smiles with a subtle nod in approval at his appearance as Bucky’s best friend, Steve, walks into the house. Bucky pulls his wife in for a kiss. “I’ll be home before bed, doll. Don’t worry; I won’t be away all night, not when this is my last night with you for some time.” 

Viviana holds back tears as she listens to Bucky speak. She knows he’s drafted and leaves tomorrow, but does he have to keep bringing it up? She nods with a soft, sad smile before Bucky approaches the door to go with Steve when they hear a deep chesty cough from behind them. Bucky immediately turns back to his wife to see her doubled over, trying to catch her breath. She groans before standing up, coming eye to eye with her very concerned husband.

“You’ve been coughing like this for weeks, my love; perhaps I should take you to the doctor. You aren’t looking so good.” Bucky spoke, brushing his wife's hair away from her face. Viviana quickly shakes her head. 

“Absolutely not. This is the last night you can spend with Steve; you two go! I’ll be alright. One of my patients at work is ill, that’s all. I likely just caught her cough. Now go; you’re going to be late!” Viviana places her hands on her husband’s shoulders before spinning him around to face the door again before addressing Steve, “You make sure he doesn’t return home until the exhibition is over, you understand me, Stevie?”

Steve nods, “Yes, ma’am,” he laughs before continuing. “I’ll make sure he stays for a few hours. You get some rest, Viv; being a nurse is difficult.” Steve places his hand on his friend’s shoulder before they exit the house and walk to the exhibition.

Viviana neglected to tell her husband that the doctor had already seen her, and he suspects she contracted tuberculosis from her patients at the hospital. It was only a matter of time until she succumbed, just like all her patients had in the weeks prior. She didn’t want Bucky to know and risk him deserting; it was just easier this way; Steve didn’t even know she was actively dying, and that was how she wanted it to be. She didn’t want their last night together for who knows how to be spent worrying about her. 

The two walk down the street; Steve takes note of Bucky’s sour mood and sighs before placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “She likely caught something from her patients. I’ll take her to the doctor after you leave tomorrow, and I’ll write to you about her condition as soon as I know.” That only proves to make Bucky worry. “Steve, she works with tuberculosis patients. I hope she didn’t catch anything from them; she won’t survive tuberculosis. Please take her to the doctor,”

Steve agrees as they get to enter the exhibition hall. Bucky’s mood improves as the evening progresses. The pair walked through all the inventions, particularly interested in the flying car made by Stark Industries. Though the prototype itself failed, the audience was fascinated by the concept. What could the future hold? Would flying cars ever be a thing? 

Hours passed, and the expo was over before either of them noticed. As they left, the streets hummed with expo attendees talking about what they saw; Steve and Bucky were no different. For a time, it felt like they were young boys again coming home from a movie, but the reality of this being the last evening together slowly dawned on Steve. He wanted to enlist, but he wasn’t allowed. He failed to see the fairness in that - why should other men his age go and risk their lives when he wasn’t allowed? Why should Bucky have to leave him alone? He wanted to fight alongside his best friend, although he chose not to make his feelings known for the remainder of their time together. 

The pair arrive at Steve’s house, stopping at the front door. Steve starts an emotional goodbye to his best friend, but Bucky speaks first. “You better be there to see me off tomorrow. I know Viv will need you, Steve, and I know you will need her, and I want you two to lean on each other in my absence. Don’t isolate yourself, and don’t do anything stupid until I get back, okay?” 

“I’ll take care of her; you take care of yourself and return to us,” Steve ordered. Bucky chuckles at Steve’s attempt and embraces his best friend. They say their goodbye’s before Bucky makes his way down the street to his place, silently hoping his wife is still awake. Opening the door, he sees his wife, bathed in soft lamplight with a book on her lap. She had fallen asleep waiting for him.

Guilt ate him inside - he planned to be home hours before this to spend as much time as he could with her, but he was engrossed in the expo, and now she was asleep. Despite the guilt, Bucky smiles. He was so fortunate to have this woman as his wife. 

Walking in, Bucky gently takes the book from her lap before noting the page and replacing it on the bookshelf. He returns to her, slipping his hands beneath her knees and underneath her back. He picked her up much quicker than planned, jolting her awake. She was so much lighter than he remembered her being. He frowned before her eyes met his.

“You’re home.” She smiled, her voice still saturated with sleep. Bucky smiles, kissing her forehead as he extinguishes the lamp. “I’m home, Doll. I’m sorry I was so late. I think you’d like that expo; you and Rebecca should go next year.” Bucky says, carefully carrying his wife up the stairs. Viviana chuckles sleepily. “I’m not thinking about next year; I’m thinking about right now, with you.” 

Bucky smile widens slightly as he enters their room, placing her down gently onto the bed before he strips himself of his clothes, leaving only his undergarments on. Viviana waits patiently for her husband as he slips into bed. Once he was comfortable, she fitted herself between his torso and arm, resting her head on his chest and listening to his heart's soft, rhythmic beat. 

“When you return, we should start a family,” Viviana said in almost a whisper. Bucky was not entirely sure he heard what he thought he heard.

“You… Viv, you want to start a family?”

She nods, burying her face in his chest. “We are at a good place in our marriage; I think the next logical step would be to try for a baby.” Bucky carefully lifts her chin to him, tucking a strand of ginger hair behind her ear. “We could always try for a baby now?” Bucky teases, running his hand down his wife’s body, but Viviana swats him away with a giggle. 

“Not now, you dummy. I’m not about to grow and birth a baby alone.” she laughs before her tone becomes more serious again. “What do you think we should name our child?”

Bucky chuckles, moving his hand back up to her waist, pulling her closer before pressing his lips to her forehead. “I think for a boy, we should call him Steven. Steven James, after his daddy and his daddy’s best friend.” 

Viviana rolls her eyes before smiling softly. She loved the thought of Steven James. “For a daughter, I was thinking maybe Sarah Rebecca. I know both are important women to you; this way, we can honour Sarah, and Stevie can still have his mother, in a way.” 

Bucky’s eyes water, thinking about it. His wife, who has her own family and people she could honour with their child’s name, decided to honour his sister and best friend’s mom. He will never be able to love anyone more than he loves his wife. “Doll, are you sure? I know you loved your grandmother and would have loved to name a child after her. Are you sure you want to name our daughter Sarah Rebecca?”

Viviana nods, wiping at her husband’s eyes. “Yes, but we can talk more about that when you return to me after this cursed war. I just want to fall asleep in your arms one last time.” She said, curling up into him, closing her eyes and letting out a shuddering breath. Bucky knew that sound all too well; she was trying not to cry. He tightened his arms around her frail frame.

“I’m not leaving you, doll. Go to sleep; I’ll be here when you wake up.” He whispers before pulling a blanket over their bodies. It didn’t take long for them to fall asleep together for the last time.

Steve and Viv stand on the dock, saying their goodbyes to Bucky. “Remember what I told you yesterday, Punk. Don’t do anything stupid until I get back.” 

“How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you.” Steve retorts, making Bucky chuckle before pulling him in for a hug, ruffling his hair and moving onto his wife standing beside Steve. 

He cups her cheeks, resting his forehead against hers. “You keep taking care of your patients, Doll. I’ll be home to take care of you before you know it. Until then, I want you to lean on Steve if needed. He loves you too, Viv, and you know he’ll do what he can to help you.” Viv nods before kissing her husband. 

“I’ll find you in every life, my darling James. Of that, I can promise.” 

#mcu bucky barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky barnes #bucky imagine #Reincarnated Love

[hollowslantern]

likely due to this arid winter i am coughing and dealing with slight nosebleeds altogether painting the picture of a tuberculosis patient

[tsunflowers]

these are the characters from my hit never to be written harem isekai novel "physician, heal thy elf"

main character, the physician. I couldn't decide on a gender for them so I just didn't give them one. they do have boobs though. their default expression is exhausted and bored but they do experience other emotions. in life they worked with patients who weren't being taken seriously by other doctors due to rare or misunderstood conditions and when they were isekai'd into a situation where they had to care for an elf with a rare untreatable illness they felt like it was a cosmic joke. unbelievably patient and kind despite a stern exterior. people they've helped become extremely devoted to them

the elf queen is a total milf who thinks only of her daughter and her kingdom. a little bit ditzy bc those are her only thoughts but she usually passes it off as being serene. I’m thinking of her like yor from spy x family if she didn’t kill people

the elf princess is like a sickly baby bird. often confined to bed and has tuberculosis cough. her condition is probably something that’s plagued the royal family for generations but no one knows what it is in spite of that and it makes the physician so mad. their predecessors were Not keeping good records. she’s your classic girl who doesn’t leave the house so she lives out her fantasies in romance and adventure novels. she’s always begging the physician and company to tell her stories of their travels and not leave out ANY of the details (she wants to hear the sex stuff). I picture her wearing a very sexy translucent nightgown all the time but these are the limitations of dollmakers

the male members of the adventuring party/polycule

the wolfboy is a big guy who's super chill and easygoing. there’s nothing to hate about him. except the other werewolves are all pissed off bc he goes around in his halfway form like a common beastman. but he’s a chef so he has to use his wolf senses to sniff out rare ingredients, which is why he wants to travel around with the physician looking for herbs

the catboy's mom is a renowned sorceress but he’s not particularly magically gifted so he has access to his family’s luxurious lifestyle but also a constant sense that he’s a disappointment. he wants to find something to make his mark in and become famous in his own right but he’s also profoundly lazy and only interested in get rich quick schemes. and he’s rude as hell

the female members of the polycule/adventuring party (the elf princess is part of the polycule but not the adventuring party)

the orc girl is considered a top class woman among orcs who’s very feminine and dignified but pretty much no other culture would feel the same. this doesn’t shake her bc in her own eyes she is already perfect and has everything figured out. she is the main character of her own life and is just on this journey to see what life is like for other people

the lamia girl is mysterious and quiet, revealing few details about her past. very “wouldn’t you like to know?” with a sly smirk. this is a persona she’s created bc she’s very shy and lamia are so rare that people seem to expect a woman of mystery. I’m thinking that she’s autistic and she loves to catalogue the world around her in a series of sketchbooks. but she’s worried people will think it’s cringe so she cultivated this air of mystery so she doesn’t have to talk about it

[sapphic-luthor]

how was your new years!

i have been deeply incredibly ill for about a week so it was spent on my couch coughing like a tuberculosis patient (but still having many a festive drink)

#tbh even if i wasnt sick that is more or less how my gf and i prefer to spend new years #bc my god christmas really wears a girl out #answered #anonymous

[hollenka99]

Highlights of my time getting surgery under general anaesthetic because yesterday was A Day for me:

There was just something inherently funny about my nurse, anaesthetist and surgeon all trying to speak to me one after the other then getting abandoned by everyone for 3 hours.

Won't say the day surgery name for privacy reasons but it sounds like 'half 11' so when I tried to tell my mum on Wednesday that 'oh btw we are now going to [Day Centre] for 8' it started an impromptu comedy routine that Abbott and Costello would be proud of.

While waiting to be called onto the ward, Mum kept trying to tell me all the gory details about getting the anaesthetic since she's seen it countless times as an interpreter, at which point I told her 'can you Not?'

Like obviously there were other patients to tend to and the doctors have their jobs to do but the '15 minutes of activity vs hours of nothing' is kinda funny in retrospect.

My mum complimented the anaesthetist on his prominent hand veins.

The nurse and I were talking about being certain about those mandatory pregnancy tests coming back negative and she told me about how one of her patients had just finished her period, therefore understandably believing there was no way she'd conceived, yet happened to get a positive test back. So uh congratulations to that woman then? Or my condolences idk.

Compression socks. Just compression socks. Bastards to put on but I now want more of my socks to have grips on the soles.

That high stakes pee because you don't want to get a bad grade in being a patient.

There was an amendment to my procedure because my condition deteriorated since my pre-assessment 10 months ago. As such, I was made to sign consent on these changes.

This in itself wouldn't be an issue if my surgeon didn't make me sign in a cluttered patch of his notes on the side of the page. This unconventional location would have Consequences multiple times throughout the day because none of my other care providers could find my signature.

When I finally got wheeled to the operating theatre, my porter got chatting with another porter about a recent match our local team played while I lay there like🧍‍♀️or I guess more like 🛌.

To be fair to him, it only lasted a couple minutes and he apologised as soon as we got moving again but I was still going 'uhhh...' in my head.

I know it's standard procedure but it will never not be funny to me that to find a vein, you have to slap the shit out of someone's hand while another person has a death grip on the arm.

Two things I remember from this part is being told what the scientific name for the elbow pit is (immediately forgot it) and being told I should take up powerlifting for a couple years so my veins wouldn't stay hidden.

I was kinda hoping that I'd recall passing out/feeling the drugs kick in but all I do remember is wishing someone would fix the oxygen mask that had moved up my face to an awkward position then gradually waking up elsewhere.

I never thought a presumably plastic tube would leave a woody aftertaste.

They also put a towel around my head in the recovery room for some reason? I don't think I was at risk of losing a ton of body heat through my head so who knows what that was about because I can't think of any other potential reason.

My body started acting like it wanted to kin a Victorian who dramatically realises they have tuberculosis as soon as I fully regained consciousness which was Fun. Thankfully no blood was involved, just tons of coughing.

"Why do you keep saying 24? It's the 11th today." "You're 24, aren't you?" "...Oh."

I sat there for an hour, not because of any issues I had but instead because literally every computer was capable of showing my discharge papers except the one by my bed.

And then when the lady looking after me finally tried another computer, my already prolonged stay was delayed further by there seemingly being no porters available for nearly 30 minutes.

Spent the hour fidgeting with my pulse monitor in a way that wouldn't get me in trouble and getting constantly annoyed at them activating my blood pressure cuff every few minutes.

I was completely useless at drinking water through a straw because my lips were swollen. How I managed to actually drink anything during that first hour of being awake is a miracle.

Not much happened after I finally got brought back to my mum downstairs. It was mostly hanging around, wishing they'd let me start the process of preparing to go home already.

Mum expressed surprise at how quickly I ate my yoghurt but my response was along the lines of "Shh, just because I can't feel the hunger at the moment doesn't mean I haven't eaten in around 20 hours. Let me have this."

If I had a nickel for every time I got complimented on how my blood was clotting-

When it came to removing the cannula, I was expecting it to hurt but honestly, I didn't feel the needle leave which was a nice surprise.

Also sidenote but, while I'm certainly not disputing that dehydration was one of the main causes of my borderline headache, you sure can't rule out 'getting bright lights shone in my face' playing its part in that.

What did hurt though was all the tape getting peeled off. Because ouch. At least when Mum ripped off my shoulder nodes as I got changed into my regular clothes, it was instant and only lasted a second.

Speaking of nodes, we both missed the one on the side of my torso which I didn't discover until about 5 hours after returning home. Didn't feel it at all until my hand happened to brush past it.

Got worried some kind of liquid was leaking from it because I couldn't figure out whether the glue just felt weird or not.

Generally just chilled for the evening then stayed awake way past what I would normally call a night.

Oh yeah and I learnt about OJ Simpson's death on the ride home which was Something.

#holly talks #long post #honestly I was just so mentally exhausted by the time I got home #the hours of just sitting around and feeling exposed without realising it all caught up with me by the evening #there's obviously the physical exhaustion too which I'm still feeling a day and a half later #I plan to take it easy this weekend but man will I be glad to not have my mouth and throat be so sore anymore

[chestclinicvns]

TB Doctor in Varanasi: Navigating the Path to Recovery

Tuberculosis, commonly known as TB, is a pervasive health concern that requires specialized care. In a city like Varanasi, where healthcare plays a vital role, finding the right TB doctor becomes crucial. Let's delve into the intricacies of TB, the role of a TB doctor in Varanasi, and the journey to recovery.

I. Introduction

Definition of TB

Tuberculosis is an infectious disease caused by the Mycobacterium tuberculosis bacterium. It primarily affects the lungs but can also target other parts of the body. Seeking prompt medical attention is crucial for effective treatment.

Importance of Seeking a TB Doctor

Early diagnosis and treatment significantly impact the prognosis of TB. A TB doctor, specializing in pulmonology, plays a pivotal role in guiding patients through the complexities of the disease.

Overview of Varanasi's Healthcare Scenario

Before delving into the specifics, understanding the healthcare landscape of Varanasi sets the stage for the importance of specialized TB care.

II. Understanding Tuberculosis

Causes and Symptoms

TB spreads through the air when an infected person coughs or sneezes. Common symptoms include persistent cough, weight loss, and fatigue. Varanasi, like many other regions, faces challenges in diagnosing TB promptly.

Prevalence of TB in Varanasi

Varanasi, with its unique demographic and environmental factors, experiences a notable prevalence of TB. This emphasizes the need for a comprehensive approach to tackle the disease.

Challenges in TB Diagnosis

Diagnosing TB is often complex due to various factors, including limited resources and societal misconceptions. This section explores the hurdles faced in accurate and timely diagnosis.

III. The Role of a TB Doctor

Specialization in Pulmonology

TB doctors are specialized in pulmonology, focusing on respiratory diseases. Their expertise ensures accurate diagnosis and personalized treatment plans.

Diagnostic Techniques

Modern diagnostic techniques, including chest X-rays and molecular tests, aid TB doctors in pinpointing the disease. The article explores the evolving landscape of TB diagnostics.

Treatment Approaches

From traditional antibiotic treatments to cutting-edge medications, TB doctors in Varanasi adopt diverse approaches. Understanding these methods is crucial for patients seeking effective treatment.

IV. Choosing the Right TB Doctor in Varanasi

Researching Doctor's Credentials

Patients can ensure quality care by researching a doctor's credentials, experience, and success rates. This section provides insights into the factors to consider.

Seeking Referrals

Recommendations from trusted sources, including friends, family, or other healthcare professionals, streamline the process of finding a reliable TB doctor.

Evaluating Hospital Facilities

In addition to the doctor's expertise, the quality of hospital facilities impacts the overall treatment experience. This section guides readers on assessing hospital amenities.

V. Patient Testimonials

Real-life Experiences

Personal stories of TB survivors and their journey to recovery offer a glimpse into the impact of effective TB treatment.

Impact of TB Treatment on Lives

Examining the transformative effects of TB treatment on patients' lives emphasizes the significance of early intervention.

Importance of Personalized Care

TB doctors who prioritize personalized care contribute to the overall well-being of patients. This section explores the role of empathy in healthcare.

VI. TB Doctor's Contribution to Community Health

Awareness Programs

TB doctors actively participate in community awareness programs, educating the public about TB prevention, symptoms, and treatment.

Collaborations with Local Health Authorities

Collaborative efforts between TB doctors and local health authorities strengthen the fight against TB at a community level.

Preventive Measures Advocacy

TB doctors advocate for preventive measures, emphasizing the role of vaccinations and maintaining good hygiene to curb the spread of TB.

VII. Technological Advancements in TB Treatment

Innovations in Medication

The article discusses recent innovations in TB medications, showcasing the advancements that contribute to more effective and tolerable treatment.

Role of Telemedicine

In the digital age, telemedicine emerges as a valuable tool for TB patients, facilitating remote consultations and monitoring.

Ensuring Accessibility

Technological advancements aim to make TB treatment more accessible, even in remote areas. This section highlights initiatives for wider reach.

VIII. Overcoming Stigma Associated with TB

Raising Awareness

TB doctors actively participate in raising awareness to debunk myths and reduce the social stigma attached to TB.

Community Education Programs

Educational programs targeting communities help dispel misconceptions, fostering a supportive environment for TB patients.

Destigmatizing TB

Efforts to destigmatize TB involve both healthcare professionals and the community. This section explores strategies for destigmatization.

IX. Importance of Regular Check-ups

Early Detection Saves Lives

Regular health check-ups contribute to early detection, significantly improving the chances of successful TB treatment.

Routine Screenings for High-Risk Individuals

Certain demographics face a higher risk of TB. Encouraging routine screenings for these individuals is crucial for timely intervention.

Nurturing a Healthier Community

By emphasizing the importance of regular check-ups, TB doctors contribute to building a healthier and more resilient community.

X. Challenges Faced by TB Doctors in Varanasi

Limited Resources

Challenges such as limited resources and infrastructure impact the ability of TB doctors to provide optimal care. This section sheds light on these challenges.

Societal Misconceptions

Addressing societal misconceptions surrounding TB is an ongoing battle for TB doctors in Varanasi. Strategies for change are explored here.

Collaborative Efforts for Improvement

Building collaborations with government bodies and NGOs is essential for overcoming challenges. This section discusses the importance of collective efforts.

XI. Government Initiatives for TB Control

National TB Control Programs

Government initiatives, such as National TB Control Programs, play a crucial role in shaping the landscape of TB care in Varanasi.

Local Support for TB Patients

Local support systems, including community centers and counseling services, contribute to the holistic well-being of TB patients.

Impact on Varanasi's Health Landscape

Government initiatives have a direct impact on Varanasi's health landscape. This section explores the positive changes brought about by these programs.

XII. Tips for TB Prevention

Hygiene Practices

Maintaining good hygiene practices is a cornerstone of TB prevention. This section provides practical tips for individuals to incorporate into their daily lives.

Vaccination Importance

Understanding the role of vaccinations in preventing TB helps in creating a more informed and proactive community.

Building Immunity

A healthy lifestyle contributes to overall immunity. This section discusses habits that support the body's ability to resist TB infection.

XIII. Future Outlook for TB Treatment in Varanasi

Research and Development

Ongoing research and development initiatives promise a brighter future for TB treatment. This section explores the potential breakthroughs on the horizon.

Global Collaborations

Collaborations between healthcare professionals globally foster the exchange of knowledge and resources, benefiting TB patients in Varanasi.

Advancements in Patient Care

Technological advancements and evolving medical practices promise better patient care. This section discusses the evolving landscape of TB treatment.

XIV. Conclusion

Recapitulation of Key Points

A brief summary of the crucial points discussed throughout the article reinforces the importance of seeking professional help for TB.

Encouragement for Seeking Professional Help

The conclusion encourages readers to prioritize their health, emphasizing that seeking a TB doctor's assistance is a proactive step towards recovery.

A Message of Hope for TB Patients

Closing with a positive note, the article provides a message of hope for individuals undergoing TB treatment, assuring them that recovery is possible.

XV. FAQs

What are the common symptoms of TB?

Common symptoms include persistent cough, weight loss, and fatigue. Early detection is crucial for effective treatment.

How long does TB treatment typically last?

TB treatment can last several months, depending on the severity of the infection. Adherence to the prescribed medications is vital for success.

Can TB be completely cured?

Yes, with prompt and proper treatment, TB can be completely cured. Regular follow-ups with a TB doctor are essential for monitoring progress.

Are there any side effects of TB medications?

TB medications may have side effects, but these are typically manageable. Close communication with the TB doctor helps address any concerns.

How can one support a family member diagnosed with TB?

Supporting a family member with TB involves understanding the treatment plan, providing emotional support, and encouraging adherence to medications.

[eileennatural]

I actually don't hate winter that much but the cold makes me cough like a victorian tuberculosis patient so that kind of puts a damper on things especially ever since covid

#like its less acceptable to be out in public with a cough like mine :/ #the coughing thing has gotten worse i think ever since i got sick my freshman year. like sicker than ive ever been in my life #definitely sicker than both times i had covid

[medrechospital]

Defeating Tuberculosis: Understanding, Preventing, and Overcoming Challenges

I. Introduction

Tuberculosis, a disease caused by the bacterium Mycobacterium tuberculosis, has been a persistent global health issue for centuries. In this comprehensive guide, we will navigate the complex terrain of TB, exploring its origins, modes of transmission, symptoms, and, most importantly, strategies for prevention and treatment.

II. Understanding Tuberculosis

Tuberculosis Basics

At its core, TB is an infectious disease that primarily affects the lungs, but it can manifest in other parts of the body as well. Understanding the basics of TB is crucial for developing effective prevention strategies.

Causes and Transmission

TB is primarily spread through the air when an infected person coughs or sneezes. We'll explore the conditions that make transmission more likely, such as crowded and unsanitary living conditions, and delve into the factors that make certain populations more vulnerable to infection.

High-risk Populations

Certain groups, such as individuals with compromised immune systems, those living with HIV/AIDS, and people in poverty-stricken areas, are at higher risk. Understanding why these populations are more susceptible will shed light on targeted prevention efforts.

III. Symptoms of Tuberculosis

Early Symptoms

The early symptoms of TB are often subtle and can be easily mistaken for other common ailments. A persistent cough, fatigue, weakness, and unexplained weight loss are common indicators that prompt further investigation.

Advanced Symptoms

As the disease progresses, more severe symptoms may emerge, including chest pain, coughing up blood, and excessive sweating, especially at night. Recognizing these signs is vital for early intervention and successful treatment.

IV. Diagnosis of Tuberculosis

Tuberculin Skin Test

One of the primary diagnosis for TB, the tuberculin skin test involves injecting a small amount of fluid (tuberculin) under the skin. We'll explain how this test works and its significance in identifying TB infection.

Blood Tests, Chest X-rays, and Sputum Tests

Beyond the skin test, blood tests, chest X-rays, and sputum tests play crucial roles in confirming TB diagnoses. We'll provide a detailed breakdown of each method, discussing their accuracy and how they contribute to the overall diagnostic process.

V. Treatment of Tuberculosis

Overview of TB Medications

Treatment of TB with a combination of antibiotics, and we'll provide an overview of the common medications used. Understanding the mechanism of these drugs is essential for patients to actively participate in their treatment.

Importance of Completing the Full Course of Treatment

Incomplete treatment can lead to drug-resistant strains of TB, a significant global health concern. We'll stress the importance of adhering to the prescribed treatment plan to ensure successful recovery and minimize the risk of resistance.

Potential Side Effects of TB Medications

Like any medication, TB drugs can have side effects. We'll outline these potential side effects, empowering individuals to communicate effectively with their healthcare providers and manage any challenges that may arise during treatment.

VI. Tuberculosis Prevention Strategies

Importance of Infection Control

Infection control measures, both at the individual and community levels, play a critical role in preventing TB transmission. We'll discuss practical steps individuals can take to minimize their risk of exposure.

Avoiding Close Contact with Infected Individuals

TB is highly contagious in close quarters. Strategies to avoid close contact with infected individuals, especially in high-risk settings, will be detailed to further reduce transmission risks.

Good Respiratory Hygiene Practices

Simple practices, such as covering one's mouth and nose when coughing or sneezing, can significantly reduce the spread of TB. We'll emphasize the importance of good respiratory hygiene in daily life.

Importance of a Healthy Lifestyle in Preventing TB

A robust immune system is a powerful defense against TB. We'll explore how maintaining a healthy lifestyle, including proper nutrition, regular exercise, and adequate rest, contributes to overall well-being and lowers the risk of TB infection.

VII. Tuberculosis Vaccination

Overview of the BCG Vaccine

The Bacillus Calmette-Guérin (BCG) vaccine is a key tool in TB prevention. We'll provide an in-depth look at the development and mechanism of the BCG vaccine, offering insights into its effectiveness in different populations.

Effectiveness of the BCG Vaccine

While the BCG vaccine is widely used, its effectiveness varies. We'll explore the factors influencing its efficacy and discuss its role in global TB prevention efforts.

Who Should Get the BCG Vaccine?

The recommendation for BCG vaccination varies by country and population. We'll outline the groups for whom the vaccine is particularly beneficial and discuss the considerations behind vaccination decisions.

VIII. Challenges in Tuberculosis Prevention

Drug-resistant TB

The emergence of drug-resistant TB poses a significant threat to global health. We'll delve into the factors contributing to drug resistance and explore ongoing efforts to combat this challenge.

Social and Economic Factors Contributing to TB Spread

TB disproportionately affects marginalized populations. We'll discuss the social and economic factors that contribute to the spread of TB and explore initiatives aimed at addressing these underlying issues.

Global Efforts to Combat TB

International collaboration is essential in the fight against TB. We'll highlight global initiatives, partnerships, and research efforts that aim to eradicate TB and improve outcomes for those affected.

IX. Conclusion

In conclusion, this comprehensive guide has provided an in-depth exploration of tuberculosis, covering its origins, symptoms, diagnosis, treatment, and prevention strategies. As we recap the key points, the overarching emphasis remains on prevention as a powerful tool in the battle against TB.

X. Additional Resources

For those seeking more information, we've compiled a list of reputable organizations dedicated to tuberculosis prevention. Additionally, a curated selection of further reading and references is provided for readers interested in a deeper exploration of this critical health issue.

Armed with knowledge and a commitment to proactive measures, individuals and communities can contribute to a TB-free future. It's not just about understanding and treating TB; it's about collectively working towards eradicating this ancient disease from our modern world.

#TB #tuberculosis #how to prevent tuberculosis