Check out this amazing cover! 😍 The pink side is the front cover, the orange side is the back cover. The story is such a cool concept. It’s two intertwining stories that you can choose to read one after the other, or in alternating chapters. Here’s a synopsis:
Summary: The overly handsome boss, Lee Taemin has always put his work first. It cost him his marriage to his supermodel which he didn’t mind, his ex-wife wasn’t his favorite person. But put a stress on his bonding with his baby daughter. Which might truly not be his thanks to his ex-wife’s naughty habits. He finds himself getting more and more attracted to his adorable, hard working, sometimes cocky, and savage secretary/nanny who had always been by his side since the company went big.
Y/N L/N the overworked but optimistic with everything works for Lee Taemin and even got on a first name basis with her boss. He always seems kinder to her than his other workers. She’s stolen the heart of her handsome boss who wants to make her more than just a worker in the future. They bonded more over his daughter to the point he wants to fight for full custody after his ex injures their daughter and asks her to quit her job to help raise his daughter switching her payroll from secretary to nanny.
Walking into the building the noise from the outside seemed to be cut off and the sound of classical music filled your ears as you looked around the grand hotel it was being held in. You were drawn away as Taemin’s hand slid into yours and pulled you along “so you invited me to this to watch your daughter right? I don’t have to do much more than that?” you asked as you stuck your hands out for him to let her into your arms. He rolled his eyes “no you’re going to stand next to me like the little assistant you are, you’re going to be my arm candy for the night. You’re going to pretend to be my…girlfriend basically” he said clearing his throat. “Alright this is far too outside of my job description” you say putting your hands up “do you still want a job description? Shut your sassy little mou-” “Taemin” he hears as he turns away. Hajoon quickly clings to him in shock from the sudden movement.
His eyes slitted as he began to glare at the scene in front of him. Yeoeun with his business competitor and former best friend Kim Jongin. “I see you like overused women” you stated moving forward as all their eyes drifted to you. “Isn’t that your little assistant. You can’t even leave the perimeter of your actual office to find something to bang” Jongin jokes as he and Yeoeun start to laugh. “That’s pretty funny because you couldn’t even leave your friend group to find a decent woman to sleep with” you say with a fake laugh before dropping into a serious tone. He quickly shut up “what give you the right to talk to him like that?” Yeoeun’s voice boomed loudly as she wanted nothing more than to be the center of attention.
Your head tilted to the side a bit as you looked her over “the moment he decided to sleep with his BEST FRIEND’S wife. Of all people, he slept with the woman who’s been with more men than I have fingers and toes and probably even more than mine and Taemin’s put together. It’s pretty low in more than one way, it’s not even a win win situation. It’s a should be badly beaten and should have made you wear a biohazard suit before you entered a temple explored by many other’s” you continue “okay I get it she’s a whore” Jongin groans “hey!” Yeoeun glares at him before looking at you. “Why don’t you leave you’re an ape that doesn’t belong at a event like this-” “I’d wave my hands but I’m scared it might blow you away” you say giving her a wink. “By the way is Hajoon even Taemin’s child?” you then ask as Taemin shoots a glare at you.
“Who else’s child would it be?” she hisses “I mean there’s a pretty good candidate standing next to you” you say as Jongin scoffs. “That baby’s much too ugly to even be my bad sperm” he said as Taemin hands you Hajoon before glaring at Jongin and giving him a harsh shove. “Don’t even call MY baby ugly again. I’ll make sure you’ll never have a freaking heir to your company” he threatened as Yeoeun turned to you “this is what poor trash like you does. Ruins everything that- “ “just shut the hell up, will you? Your voice I have to deal with it too often as it is. Just go find another god damn rich man to bang” Taemin says annoyed as she stomps her feet.
Taemin lightly laid his daughter down on one of the couches as she had managed to pass out during all the drama earlier before he turned to you, the fire clearly burning in his eyes. “Your freaking mouth. I never heard you say more than 30 words a day for most of the time you worked for me. The past 3 weeks I’ve want to do so many things to you-” “today was the first time I’ve acted out so I have no idea why else you would wanted to do me” you tell him as he pins you to the wall. His breath fanned over you in a minty fresh layer seemed to cover your face. “I want you to behave, be the good shy girl you were and don’t step out of term again” he hissed “then don’t see me outside the office because I honestly don’t want to deal with your drama more than I have to” you tell him as you shove him out of the way.
“Where are you going? Huh? You rode here in my freaking limo-” “you know my mommy and daddy gave me two very magical and very dear things called legs. I’ll use them” you tell him as you started for the door. You shoved the diaper bag from your shoulder and started leaving.
Taemin stood there for a moment before putting his back to the wall and sinking to the ground. He used to be an extremely happy man, oblivious to all things but what his company needed. Then he met Man Yeoeun who he seemed to fall for, he couldn’t claim it was love. Just an over fueled lust that ended in the first pregnancy scare which made them marry out of fear she was just that, pregnant. Neither of them rushed to divorce either, enjoyed the fact they had someone they could come home to and just relieve stress onto and finally she really was pregnant with his child. A month afterwards she had been busted by paps leaving the bachelor pad of Kim Jongin. Which quickly brought the marriage to a complete halt and made Taemin divorce her to save himself from the scandals that were to come with her ways.
Very few goods came out of being with someone of that kind of level of self destruction. Well the only goods were, the knowledge of not to rush into a marriage because a woman threw the I’m pregnant card at you when you were ready to end it in the first place and the fact he had a perfect little girl passed out on the couch over there.
His eyes drifted over before guilt came to him, he’d angered you, the only person who seemed to be on his side to the point to leave the hotel and walk god knows how many miles back to your apartment building. What if you got attacked by a man? Or hit by a car? He wasn’t sure if you could fight but seeing how sharp your tongue was he was guessing you could handle yourself. But a car? That’s a hard thing to fight. His head hit the wall as he stood up, he made his way over to his daughter slowly picking her up and taking her as quickly as he could to the limo, he stopped quickly turning around and picking up the diaper bag before he continued on his mission.
Yeah but they could have avoided the whole alien-aaaah-almost-everyone-dies situation if thEY WOULD HAVE FOLLOWED STANDARD FOREIGN-PLANET-WE-DON’T-WHAT-MIGHT-KILL-US PROTOCOL AND WORE FUCKING BIOHAZARD SUITS AND HELMETS
Just because there is breathable air doesnt MEAN THE PLANET IS CLEAN OFF DANGEROUS BACTERIAAAAAAS
You’re gonna say that the Alien particles could still enter the ship by sticking to these suits. They could have sterilize the costumes before entering the ship.
The WHOLE fucking movie wouldn’t have happened if they followed standard safety measures.
Don’t these people watch Vsauce like really?
Warnings: Mentions of death, injury, medical procedures, needles, and blood. Fluff. Slow burn. Smutty smut smut. Sir kink.
A/N: ***PLEASE READ: I have worked in the medical field and in the ER for almost five years. Every patient situation here is taken from personal experience. There is mention of being able to find the lighter side to emergency situations. I don’t say this or bring it up to sound callous or anything, but working in the medical field is heavy enough as it is without learning how to build walls and find something good to focus on despite situations. If you are not okay with this viewpoint, please do not read any further. I promise it is not meant to diminish what patients and families go through in these devastating circumstances.*** All statistics, uniform colors, locations and places mentioned are accurate to the best of my ability. Code names are mentioned and are taken from my own hospital experience.
PS: Title taken from the the song When The Right One Comes Along by Striking Matches. Listen HERE
Tuesday. 0450. Neat ponytail. Navy blue scrubs crisp, clean, and wrinkle free. School patch on the left shoulder emblazoned with the letters ‘JHUSON.’ Name pin on the left breast, right above the school logo. Stethoscope around the neck. Favorite pen in the right pocket.
Check, check, check, you thought, surveying yourself in the mirror as you went down the list of things required for your uniform.
It was the first day of your first Clinical Rotation. How you had managed to not only get into Johns Hopkins School of Nursing on the first try, but then to get your preferred choice of practice as your first clinical? Nothing short of a miracle. Glancing at your watch, 0455, you realized with a start that you had five minutes till you needed to leave.
Lunch, keys, phone, backpack with necessary books and study materials, lab coat, water bottle, and out the door, just to rush back in and grab a banana and granola bar for breakfast.
Prompt: The pool of acid was boiling. That wasn't the concerning part; the pool of acid was supposed to be boiling. What was more concerning was the fact that the pool of acid was on the ceiling, far from any heat source.
“It’s a class five,” the man in Agatha’s living room says. He’s wearing a biohazard suit pulled down to his waist where the arms are tied to keep it from sliding down past his rubber boots. Under the suit he’s wearing a dress shirt and tie, both in an off-putting shade of green. He doesn’t look up when he speaks, instead staring at the pool on her ceiling and then to his clipboard.
Agatha looks from the man to the bubbling mass on her ceiling and does not remember inviting either in.
“‘Course with new department regulations, that doesn’t mean much,” the man continues. He jots another note on his clipboard and sighs noisily. “Class five wouldn’t even touch an old level two, if you ask me. You don’t need to worry, ma'am, I can have this cleaned up by sundown.” He frowns darkly at his clipboard. “If it’s not finished by then, there is an emergency number you’ll have to call.”
“I see,” Agatha says, stepping cautiously into her living room. The edge of the pool bubbles alarmingly above her but not a drop of the hissing acid falls far enough to touch her. “I don’t think the emergency number will be necessary, mister…?”
“Brown,” the man says. He finally turns to look at her, tucking the clipboard under his arm. “And I assure you it is entirely necessary. Why, just last week we had a class three turn into a class seven! It’s the ley lines… something about the moon…”
“You misunderstand,” Agatha says. “I don’t mean that emergency services are unnecessary. I mean to say the number is because it connects to my phone.” She pulls a small red cell phone from her pocket and dangles it from two fingers.
Mr. Brown stares at her. “Ah.”
Agatha allows some of the rage to break through her poker face. “This, of course, could have been avoided if you had waited for an official request.”
May 21, 1960: Jeffrey Lionel Dahmer was born at Evangelical Deaconess Hospital in Milwaukee. According to Jeffrey’s father, Lionel, his mother suffered bouts of partial paralysis during the pregnancy. Doctors were unable to find any reason for the paralysis. She was given “injections of barbiturates and morphine, which would finally relax her.” Later she was given phenobarbital as well.
1962: The Dahmers moved to Ames, Iowa, so Jeffrey’s father could work on his Ph.D in chemistry.
1964: Jeffrey was diagnosed with a double hernia in his scrotum. Surgery corrected it. Extreme pain suffered by the child both before and after the surgery could, conceivably, have influenced later feelings of sexual inadequacy or insecurity. Lionel claimed that it was from this time on that Jeffrey began to become more and more withdrawn and introverted.
November 1966: The Dahmers moved to Doylestown, Ohio. There were several other moves over the next year as they searched for just the right place to bring up Jeffrey and his brother David, who was born on December 18.
1968: The family moved to Bath, Ohio.
Late 1970: Jeffrey’s mother was hospitalized twice for psychiatric problems. According to Lionel she had been taking drugs to deal with her extreme nervousness for years, but they didn’t work well. Thus, she was not a stabilizing influence in Jeffrey’s life.
June 4, 1978: Jeffrey graduated from high school. By this point he was living alone. His parents were going through an extremely bitter divorce and had each moved out. Because Jeffrey at 18, was legally an adult, the law did not allow for anyone to have custody of him. Therefore, no one took custody. Instability and a lack of emotional support continued.
June 18, 1978: Dahmer picked up nineteen year old Steven Mark Hicks hitchhiking. They went back to the house for a few beers. When Hicks tried to leave, Dahmer clubbed him with a barbell and strangled him with it. Over the next couple of weeks he methodically stripped the flesh from the bones, smashed the bones and disposed of the few remains in the back yard.
December 24, 1978: Lionel remarried.
December 29, 1978: Jeffrey was sworn into the Army. After failing to become an MP he was trained as a medic and assigned to Baumholder, Germany. This was far from a plum assignment. It was also a very few years after the humiliation of Vietnam, when morale and discipline in the armed forces were poor and drug and alcohol abuse wide spread.
March 26, 1981: Dahmer was discharged from the Army before his enlistment was up because his drinking had reached the point where he simply didn’t function any more. Back in the U.S., he went to Florida where he slept on the beach for a few months before returning to Ohio.
October 7, 1981: Dahmer was arrested for disorderly conduct and resisting arrest and paid a small fine. He was drunk.
August 7, 1982: Dahmer was arrested again for disorderly conduct. He dropped his pants in public. By this time Dahmer was living with his grandmother, in part because she seemed to be the only person he responded to with anything like affection.
September 8, 1986: Jeffrey was arrested when he deliberately exposed himself while urinating in front of a group of children in Milwaukee. Another version of the story has it that he was masturbating.
September 15, 1987: The murder of Steven W. Tuomi, age 24. Dahmer claimed he woke up in a hotel room and found the victim dead, with no memory of doing anything to him. He bought a big suitcase, transported the body back to his grandmother’s house, and proceeded to dispose of it much as he had the body of Steven Hicks.
January 1988: James Doxtator, 14, killed. Dahmer offered him money to pose nude for photos, took him back to his grandmother’s house. After sex Dahmer drugged and strangled him. By now his pattern of using acid and crushing force to destroy the remains was practiced.
March 24, 1988: Richard Guerrero, 25, came back to Dahmer’s grandmother’s house for nude photos. Again, after sex, Dahmer drugged and strangled the victim.
September 25, 1988: Dahmer moved into his own place. He offered $50 to a 13-year-old to pose nude, gave him drugged coffee and fondled him. The boy escaped. Dahmer was arrested.
From here on the pace of the murders picked up significantly. Once he had his own place, Dahmer seems to have lost most of what little control he had.
January 1989: Jeffrey was convicted of 2nd degree sexual assault and enticing a child for immoral purposes. (See above) Sentenced on May 23 to five years and three years, sentences to be served concurrently. Actually served ten months, then began five years probation.
March 25: Anthony Sears,24, was last seen alive. Dahmer met him at a club, took him back to his grandmother’s house. After sex, he drugged Sears and murdered him. Sears’s painted skull was recovered from Dahmer’s apartment after his arrest in 1991.
May 29: Ricky Beeks, 33, was last seen alive. Dahmer met him at a club and offered him money to pose for nude pictures. He drugged and strangled him and had sex with the body. The victim’s painted skull was recovered from Dahmer’s apartment after his arrest in 1991.
June 1990: Edward W. Smith, 28, killed. Dahmer met him at a bar and offered him money for sex and pictures. After sex, Smith was drugged and strangled. Dahmer took some pictures during the process of dismembering the body.
September 2: Ernest Miller, 24, was last seen alive. He met Dahmer in front of a book store. Dahmer offered him money to come home with him. After sex, Dahmer drugged him and cut his throat. He took pictures of the body and dismembered it, putting the biceps in the freezer. He bleached the skeleton and painted the skull, which was in his apartment when he was arrested in 1991.
September 24: David C. Thomas last seen alive. Dahmer met him on the street and offered him money to come home with him. Dahmer drugged Thomas and murdered him without sex, taking pictures as he dismembered the body.
March 7: Curtis Straughter, 18, last seen alive. Dahmer picked him up at a bus stop, offering him money to come home with him. He drugged Straughter and strangled him after sex, taking pictures of the dismembered body. The skull, unpainted, was recovered from Dahmer’s apartment after his 1991 arrest. This is at least the third sequence of events Dahmer experimented with. Earlier, it had been sex, drugging then murder. At least once he tried drugs, murder, sex. This is drugs, sex and murder.
April 7: Errol Lindsey, 19, last seen alive. Dahmer met him on the street and offered him money to come home with him. He drugged Lindsey, strangled him and had sex with the body. The unpainted skull was recovered from Dahmer’s apartment.
May 17: Dahmer met 14-year-old Konerak Sinthasomphone in front of a mall and offered him money to pose for nude pictures. After the pictures he drugged Konerak, then went out for beer. The boy escaped, naked into the street. Neighbors called police, but Dahmer convinced them that he and the boy were lovers who had merely had a little quarrel. Police, aparently unconcerned that Sinthasomphone was still too drugged to confirm or deny the story, returned him to Dahmer, who strangled him as soon as the police were gone. Dahmer had sex with his body, took pictures and dismembered him. His skull was recovered from Dahmer’s apartment.
May 24: Tony Hughes, 31, last seen alive. Reportedly, Hughes and Dahmer had known each other for two years. By writing (Hughes was deaf and mute) Dahmer offered him $50.00 to come home with him and pose for nude pictures. Hughes was drugged and murdered without sex. His unpainted skull was recovered from Dahmer’s apartment.
June 30: Matt Turner, 20, last seen alive. They met in Chicago at the bus station after a Gay Pride parade. Dahmer offered him money to pose nude, drugged him and strangled him with a strap. After cutting the body up, Dahmer put the head in the freezer and the rest in a barrel of acid he had obtained.
July 6: Jeremiah Weinberger, 23, last seen alive. They met in Chicago at a gay bar, where Dahmer offered him money to come back to Milwaukee. This murder is very unusual in that the victim was not murdered until the day after he came home with Dahmer. When he indicated that he wanted to leave, Dahmer drugged him, strangled him, and dismembered him, taking pictures of the process. Like the last victim, his head went into the freezer, his body into the acid.
July 15: Jeffrey was fired from the Ambrosia Chocolate Co. for bad attendance.
July 16: Joseph Bradehoft, 25, last seen alive. They met at a bus stop, where Dahmer offered him money to pose for nude pictures. After sex, Dahmer drugged him and strangled him with a strap. He dismembered the body and, as before, put the head in the freezer and the body in the acid barrel.
July 22, 1991: Shortly after midnight, Tracy Edwards, 32, escaped from Dahmer with one hand in a handcuff and flagged down a police car. He lead the cops back to Dahmer’s apartment. They found photos of dismembered victims and body parts in the refrigerator and freezer. Shortly, the sight of crews in biohazard protection suits taking evidence out of Dahmer’s apartment was televised all over the world. The suits were necessary because of the smell of decay in the apartment and because of the acid in the barrel.
January 14: Dahmer entered a plea of guilty but insane in 15 of the 17 murders he claimed to have committed.
February 15: By 10-2 majority vote, a jury found Dahmer to be sane in each murder. Testimony from defense and prosecution experts took weeks and was extremely gruesome. One expert testified that Dahmer periodically removed body parts of his victims from the freezer and ate them. Another testified that this was a lie Dahmer told to make himself seem insane. The jury deliberated slightly more than ten hours.
February 17: Dahmer was sentenced to 15 consecutive life terms. At the sentencing, Dahmer read a prepared statement in which he expressed sorrow for the pain he had caused.
I’ve done it. I’ve finally done it. I have officialy built the world’s first time machine, conveinently looking like a basic digital watch, displaying the time of the destination and the time it had arrived from. It works by taking 2 points in time, bringing them close, and allowing me to step into the other time. Unfortunately it only joins together the present and things that have already happened, so no going into the future. Also it requires tremendous amounts of energy to keep you in the past, so you only stay back for a few seconds.
Before I could test it, there was a flash and suddenly a man wearing what appeared to be an improvised combination between a biohazard and radioactive suit, a backpack with tin cans of food, a pistol, and a gas mask appeared before me.
This shocked me, and before I could run he stepped infront of me, and said two words: “PREPARE NOW” and then disappeared in another flash.
I was confused at what I had just saw, but that quickly turned to shock as I realised whoever it was, he had a digital watch bearing a striking resemblance to my time machine, and it’s origin date had stated he had arrived from one year from now.
*cleans ask box while wearing a biohazard suit* -anyways the most noticeable part of your artsyle would be the lines/the way u use them and if this was ur old RusAme ask blog I would say the cute chins. And the his u draw r cute but the old ones were v distinct
They manage to walk in circles together for three hours, hand in hand, before Ahsoka collapses.
“I can’t,” she pants, baring her teeth - she’d been leaning on him more and more heavily for at least thirty minutes as they tried to keep their blood moving, chattering away all the while about how much she fucking hates this fucking virus and coming up with ever more-inventive plans about what she’d do to it if she met it in a dark alley, and it hasn’t been enough. She’s in a cold sweat and slipping closer to a temp of 93, well past hypothermia, as she clutches the stand of her IV drip; they’d bagged each other, forcing an oxygen-rich slurry into their arteries, but the whole point was that their cells couldn’t take it up - and now her pretty, pale face is turning blue at its edges, cobwebs of blood vessels creeping darkly across her skin.
“One more lap,” Rex says, trying to ignore the bustle outside - Cody has given all the orders he can, and there are nurses and doctors running to and fro, shouting, not able to do a damn thing - as he clutches her forearms, feeling his own head start to lighten. There’s no mirror in the containment unit, thank the gods, because he thinks he’d lose it if he saw the same insidious darkness in himself. “Come on. One more.”
“Can’t,” she says again, breathless, and then she sits heavily on the edge of her bed and just wheezes. “You keep going.”
“Nah,” he says, trying to grin, and settles clumsily next to her, readjusting his own IV. “It takes two to tango.”
“Ugh,” she says, and wobbles, and her cheek comes to rest on his shoulder. “No tango. I’ll take you ballroom dancing.”
“Deal,” he says, and chokes, and it takes a worryingly long time for his breathing pattern to normalize (not being able to breathe fucking hurts, and it makes waves of incredibly rational panic beat at his throat, closing it just when he needs it the most).
When he next becomes aware of anything much, there are black spots dancing in his vision, and he’s curled fully around Ahsoka as she shakes through her chills, his hands around her wrists. When he tries to say something, garbled and low, she doesn’t respond.
There’s a tap on the glass, and he forces himself upright, and holy fuck, so cold -
“I need you to hold on for two more hours.” It’s Cody, Rex just about recognizes, and this is the worst of it, this is the worst thing of all - the fact that he recognizes his brother is out there and is watching him die, and he can’t muster up the energy to try and alleviate his grief. “We have an experimental treatment being flown in.”
A pause. “I need you to do this for me, Rex.”
No emphasis on any particular word, of course. Cody wouldn’t put that burden on him, and it’s a common enough phrase, one they use all the time to urge their patients through one more surgery, one more round of chemo, telling them to open their eyes and focus and tell them where it hurts.
It hurts everywhere, Rex thinks, and then he blinks, and wakes up on the floor. When he gets a hand under him and manages to turn over, he sees that it’s almost entirely blue.
Fuck this, he thinks - or maybe he says it out loud - and when he staggers to his feet, totally oblivious of whatever might be going on outside, the only thing he’s able to do is check and make sure Ahsoka’s still alive - she is, just, piled over with blankets (did he put them over her? he must have done) and her thready pulse weakly beeping - before he falls again and crawls, unashamed and totally uncaring, into the little bathroom attached to the unit.
If he’s going to die he’s not going to fucking do it on camera for the CDC to gawp at, that’s for fucking sure.
The tile wall should be cold, but to his frozen skin it feels like a warm bath. He wedges into a corner, nudges his head upright, and waits.
It doesn’t take long - and it’s kind of a relief.
No tunnel, he notices idly. Liars.
Cody’s a fucking asshole. Cody is barely visible in a massive orange biohazard suit, his gloved hands thickened almost beyond use, but Rex can tell it’s him. Cody has a fucking enormous needle that looks very disconcerting indeed in Rex’s arm.
“Shit,” he gasps, and then he screams, because whatever the stuff is feels like lava coursing through his circulatory system, burning and frying in its wake. “What the fuck is that?”
“You were never great at chemistry, vod,” Cody says, tinny through his radio, and oh man, he sounds fucking great. Hearing anything at this point, as Rex twitches and whimpers through the corrosive agent’s effects, feels amazing. “Save your questions for when you regain full brain function.”
“Will I?” Rex asks, pathetically, blinking haze out of his eyes.
“We’ll see. That was syringe number one,” Cody says, holding up the remainder of his boxed kit, which is covered in all sorts of stickers which say that Rex is being treated with something Very Not Happy-Making. “There are ten. Ahsoka’s already had two, so you’ve got some catching up to do.”
During setlock we had already speculated that 102 (the first home above) was probably Mycroft’s home and that the white house (104) was probably the scene of a crime due to the biohazard suits, so this is just a post to confirm!! that we were right, and to show a comparison of the 104 garden to what was seen on film, along with a comparison of 102′s kitchen with the wallpaper remodeling Arwel did.
We were confused at the time why Mycroft was maybe at a crime seen and why they were filming at two houses (Ben, Rupert, and Mark were all seen in costume)…turns out they were completely different scenes but filmed on the same day, Ben and Rupert at one and Mark at the other.
Here’s an idea for a better business suit, if your business is fighting ebola or other deadly infectious disease outbreaks.
The suit’s designers, a team from Johns Hopkins University, say they built it to better protect healthcare workers from coming in contact with disease-carrying body fluids. It will also allow providers to work longer without needing to remove the garment by keeping them cooler and more comfortable.
Major problems have surfaced in emergency responders’ personal protective equipment since the world started mobilizing against the spread of ebola, which has so far infected more than 18,600 people and killed 6,900. According to the World Health Organization, 649 healthcare workers were known to have become infected with the virus as of Dec. 14. Of those, 365 have died.
Learn more and see a graphic showing the suit’s improvements below.
The man stood at the end of the street, dressed in what somewhat resembled a biohazard suit, his face completely obscured by a gas mask and opaque goggles. The hood of his rubber coat was pulled up, covering the rest of his head.
He slowly but confidently extended his arm toward the girl and beckoned her to come closer.
“I have some questions for you, miss.” He told her evenly.
can you explain ebola more? like maybe its structure and how its transmitted? and how you think the US will handle it???
Of course! Long post up ahead!
Oh, and disclaimer: I am not a virologist, so everything I know regarding Ebola comes from The Hot Zone by Richard Preston, and my own curious research.
Let me start off by saying that this current variant of Ebola being spread can not be transmitted through the air, like the flu virus. In order to become infected, you have to come in close contact with body fluids (blood, tears, saliva, semen, vaginal discharge, etc) from an infected, and symptomatic person.
So if none of your close family members or friends are infected, and you’re not touching their bodily fluids, you have 0% chance of being getting the virus. It can also be transmitted from the feces of infected animals… but unless you’re frolicking through caves in central Africa, that won’t be an issue.
Symptoms of an infected individual include: an awful headache that won’t go away, a super high fever, aches in joints and muscles, and chills. These initial symptoms last 2 - 7 days. Then, as the infection progresses, symptoms will evolve to confusion, vomiting and diarrhea (which will contain blood), red eyes, lack of response to touch (we’ll get to the reason why in a bit), bruising, and bleeding from every orifice of the body.
Risk factors of getting the disease include: recent travel to Ebola-infected areas such as certain parts of Africa, and close contact with infected and symptomatic patients.
Now let’s get down to the fun part: the intriguing virus itself. The Ebola virus is a spaghetti-shaped and carries just one single strand of RNA as its genetic code. It contains only 7 proteins—3 of which are vaguely understood, 4 of which are completely unknown as far as their purpose. Some scientists suggest the Ebola virus was one of the most primitive living organisms, and quite possible just as old as the earth itself. It originates somewhere from the rainforests of central Africa, and is quite possibly carried by bats.
Just like HIV, Ebola first goes straight for the immune system, but does so with a bigger bang. It then infiltrates your blood like an army and you have 10 days to live. [KINDA GRAPHIC UP AHEAD] Ebola attacks every single organ in your body except skeletal muscle and bone, and does so by digesting every cell into slime. Blood clots start to form, and they are so numerous they actually block neurons from communicating with each other. This is why patients can’t feel any pain. The virus also loves attacking collagen, the structural protein that gives your skin its “firmness”. Your face sags. The skin blisters into something akin to tapioca pudding. Your internal tissues start to slough off, like your tongue, your throat, your intestines… For some reasons testicles and the labia swell and turn blue. Your heart basically bleeds into itself, and your brain becomes clogged with dead cells. This causes seizures near the end of life, and this uncontrollable shaking splatters blood around and contributes to the virus finding a new host. Every drop of fluid from the body is teeming with viruses–everything from blood to tears. And lastly, a cadaver of an Ebola patient is basically nothing but a bag of liquid—dead cells chewed up by the virus.
So! Is there a cure? Not yet. There’s an experimental treatment (ZMapp) that was in its phases of testing when it was given to the American doctors who were infected with the current virus from Africa. It’s apparently working quite well, but a) long term effects have yet to be recorded and reviewed and b) the lab that was making them has run out.
Is there a vaccine? Not yet. This virus is so dangerous only a few labs in the world are equipped to work with it, hence the slow research process. However, scientists are working very hard to create a vaccine that targets one of the viruses’s 7 proteins.
So how do we treat infected patients? First we quarantine them in hospitals to minimize spread of the virus, and then we issue them fluids and electrolytes, oxygen if needed, and treatments for any secondary infections. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t.
I have no doubt the US will be able to contain the virus, and widespread infection will not happen. We have the infrastructure and educational programs that central Africa lacks. We can put patients in their own rooms, with proper ventilation and clean fluid delivery. We can put our doctors and nurses in biohazard suits that minimize viral transmission. We can spend the billions of dollars if needed to thoroughly screen every airline passenger. We have the means and literacy rates to educate everyone on the virus and prevention strategies.
Now that brings up my next point: A cure and a vaccine would be great for central Africa, but so would advances in infrastructure and education. When dealing with global health, one has to think beyond the science in order to make a lasting impact.
There’s a interesting theory at the end of The Hot Zone I’d like to finish with. Richard Preston brings up a provocative thought:
“In a sense, the earth is mounting an immune response against the human species. It is beginning to react to the human parasite, the flooding infection of people, the dead spots of concrete all over the planet, the cancerous rot-outs in Europe, Japan, and the United States, thick with replicating primates, the colonies enlarging and spreading and threatening to shock the biosphere with mass extinctions. Perhaps the biosphere does not “like” the idea of five billion humans. Or it could also be said that the extreme amplification of the human race, which has occurred only in the past hundred years or so, has suddenly produced a very large quantity of meat, which is sitting everywhere in the biosphere and may not be able to defend itself against a life form that might want to consume it. Nature has interesting ways of balancing itself. The rain forest has its own defenses. The earth’s immune system, so to speak, has recognized the presence of the human species and is starting to kick in. The earth is attempting to rid itself of an infection by the human parasite.”
If you’d like to learn more about Ebola, I recommend checking out these websites/articles: