chest drain


I know I haven’t updated in a while, but we would really appreciate everyone’s good vibes/wishes/thoughts/prayers right now.

Our Scoutie girl is likely headed for an emergency lung surgery this afternoon.

We rushed her to the e-vet last night because she was having difficulty breathing. They admitted her and we discovered that she has fluid in her chest. They drained 200 mL of fluid around 2 am.

We picked her up from the e-vet early this morning and were told to see our primary care vet for a follow-up. Our primary vet suspects it’s a lung lobe torsion. She has been referred to a specialty vet for surgery and treatment going forward.

Additional chest x-rays and ultrasound shows she has more fluid and a mass on her lung. We should have more information this afternoon.

We are beside ourselves with worry.

vorpalgirl  asked:

Character gets stabbed or shot in a spot "not immediately lethal, BUT CONCERNING" (suggestions for wound location?); she rejects the hospital option, but her buddy has medic training, access to basics like gauze/antiseptics + a shot at getting "proper supplies" within 2-4 hours - what should Buddy be asking for, assuming "anything a person could sneak out of a hospital" (e.g. drugs, tools) is on the table for this otherwise austere treatment - and can Character ultimately survive, do you think?

Hey there @vorpalgirl! Interesting scenario, and pretty common in fiction! 

I’m going to suggest the chest – not in the middle, not right under the clavicle, but maybe a puncture that goes into the lung – as an injury. The reason I say that is that there are both immediate things that can be done in the field by any competent medic, and advanced things that are risky but could very well help. 

So I’ve talked before about a tension pneumothorax, but it’s going to  make a reprisal here. It’s what happens when a lung collapses – the chest wall is punctured, the lung might be bleeding, but air also builds up in the space around the lung, which keeps the lung from inflating. It’s a great piece of drama, and it can be fixed by any idiot medic (coughcough I have done the thing). 

Your medic character will need to acquire: A chest tube tray (with a pigtail), a scalpel, some Betadyne (iodine), some sterile gloves. They will also need, in the moment, a Big Honking Needle (a 14ga IV needle will do) to decompress the chest immediately. As for medications, a prophylactic course of antibiotics (a bottle of pills from a pharmacy would be great, IVs are less ideal but still fairly easy) and – you knew this was coming! – a bottle of ketamine. (Putting in the pigtail is going to hurt, and an injection of ketamine enough to space her out and manage her pain will be quite useful for putting it in.) Alternatives would be some other controlled substance, like midazolam or diazepam, to keep her calm during surgery, or a little fentanyl or morphine to ease the pain. (Ketamine does both sedation and pain control.) 

So let’s walk this through in stages. (I have quite a bit of info coming at some point on the Phases of Injuries in Fiction, but for now we’ll just use them and I’ll explain them later). 

Injury: Your character is stabbed in the chest and immediately starts having real trouble breathing. 

Immediate Treatment: The medic covers the stab wound with a piece of plastic, taped on three sides, which can be “burped” to let air out. If that doesn’t work, they take a needle and poke them to deflate the air built up around the lung. 

Definitive Treatment: This character is getting what’s called a pigtail. A chest tube tray and tubing is what they’ll need, along with a drain to water. (I suggest the Thief character brings a BIG shopping bag, like an IKEA bag, to go visit their friends in the ER with.) They’ll also need a scalpel. And the Medic might want to spend some time on YouTube learning exactly how to put this sucker in. (Basically, there’s a cut made in line with the armpit at the 4th or 5th space between the ribs.) The tube goes in, when air comes out, the tube gets stitched into place, and the end of it goes to drain, which is sealed with water. 

Rocky Road to Recovery: These are the complications. Your character is basically chained to a chest drain. But they also need to be walking as soon as possible. How does this affect their life? What can go wrong? What’s going on in the world that your character can’t do, or has to do differently, because of their current state? 

Big Test: How does this affect your plot? Does your wounded character have to accomplish a big task before they’re ready? (This is really useful for heightening drama, if they have to do something at the story climax while still recovering.) 

New Normal: After about a week the pigtail can come out and the  wound sutured, and in a few weeks they’ll be back to normal. (No airplanes for six weeks after the pigtail comes out.) They should get back to full functioning and lung capacity after this time. 

As for survivability, yes, your character can survive this A-okay-no-problem. 

I hope this helped!!! 

xoxo, Aunt Scripty


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i understand it’s infuriating to think about but posts that go on about remus and sirius with baby harry and fail to say anything about peter with harry undercut the impact of his betrayal 

anonymous asked:

WHAT IS THE NEW ENGLAND VAMPIRE PANIC IT SOUNDS AMAZING PLEASE ENLIGHTEN US also i lov gothic lit more than i love anything else so please dear goodness is it in any way related to vampirism in lit / dracula's affect on the general public ANYWAY IT SOUNDS WILDE



this is less of a panic actually and more of a sustained belief that the outside world became more aware of all at once so it seemed like a condensed event

belief in vampires was a Thing in much of the world for a really long time, including rural New England (mostly Connecticut, Rhode Island, and Vermont). during the 19th century, tuberculosis was also a very big, very bad Thing as @queenofairandsnarkness pointed out. it’s transmitted through microscopic aerosolized drops of infected saliva when the victim coughs, and highly contagious, especially among families or other people who live in close quarters. in a time when people commonly shared beds for warmth, quarters could be very close. one case usually became an outbreak

a wasting illness that slowly drains the energy and strength from its victims…sound familiar? 

the word “vampire” was seldom if ever used, but stories spread of the consumptive dead- the consumed, I guess you could say -rising and stalking the village. often they were said to prey specifically on their own family members. it’s a bit dicey in these accounts whether the villagers believed the vampires spread the disease or it was a vampire instead of the disease

the body of the suspected vampire would be disinterred and examined. if the hair or nails seemed to have grown (a common misconception with fresh corpses, since the scalp and nail beds draw backand make nails and hair look longer) or the mouth was bloody (decomposition. fluids. enough said), the corpse would be staked in the grave. 

or decapitated 

or have a brick stuffed in its mouth

or all three

overkill was very big in rural 19th century New England. but that wasn’t the most gruesome part. often, the vampire’s organs would be cut out and burned on a gravestone or in a forge. the ashes would then be mixed in water and given to a victim to drink

why they kept doing this cure even though it had literally a 0% success rate is beyond me. maybe everyone knew a “friend’s cousin’s sister” it had worked for. maybe chain emails would have been huge in 1860s Vermont. go figure

anyway, the most famous face of the New England Vampire Panic was Mercy Brown, a 19-year-old girl who died of consumption in 1892. shortly thereafter, her ailing brother claimed that Mercy came and sat on his chest, draining the life from him. the obligatory mob dug up her grave, found her corpse well-preserved, and assumed not that being buried in January in Rhode Island had frozen the corpse but that she was a vampire. they gave her brother her heart to drink. her brother still died. this is my shocked face

the press got ahold of some of these stories and regarded them with a curious mixture of classism and Victorian morbidity. these were country people, after all- superstitious yokels with backward beliefs alien to a new age of enlightenment. (can you feel the extreme sarcasm there) 

never mind that the medicine of the time only accepted germ theory near the end of the century and had no more idea what caused TB than a Connecticut farmer burning his neighbor’s liver on an anvil. people have always loved to feel superior to someone

anyway, as for influence on literature, it’s possible. authors get their information from varied sources; I’m sure any vampire lit that existed at the time was fair game for Stoker to read. it’s been suggested that Lucy Westenra is based on Mercy Brown, but honestly I think she’s too common of an archetype to cite any specific inspiration. other people have argued that there hadn’t been time for the newspaper reports to reach Stoker in England when he wrote the book in 1897. one way or another, I guess you could argue that the NEVP influenced him in the sense that all vampire lore did

H.P. Lovecraft references the exhumation of Mercy Brown in his story “The Shunned House” as does Caitlin Kiernan in “So Runs the World Away.” There are also a few movies that draw inspiration from her story, I believe, but I’m not sure which ones they are.


here is an excellent article about it

Under The Weather

Fandom- The Outsiders. (Two-Bit X Reader)

Warnings- Nope. It’s cute.

Note- Requested by anon! Thank you! :) (I used pronouns in this one. :\ )


  You smiled, tossing your head back in laughter. Soda and Steve were trying their damnedest to beat Dallas in an arm wrestling competition. Dallas was feeling extremely playful today, and was even nice to you. You’d arrived at the Curtis house and he held the door open for you. Granted, he probably watched your ass as you passed him, but you’d take what you could get.

  Soda clasped Dallas’ hand in his own and they placed their elbows firmly against the table. Soda licked his top lip and Dally merely blinked. It was tense for a second. You called ‘go’ and they began pressing against each other’s force. It seemed like milliseconds before Soda’s arm was against the table. Dallas grinned and leaned back in his chair victoriously.

  “How are you doing that?!” Soda demanded. At least with Steve he lasted a minute. Steve and Soda seemed weak in comparison to Dally. They looked pissed about it. Dallas grinned mischievously. You’d caught on to what he was doing earlier on. You laughed harder. Soda and Steve seemed to notice and shot you weird looks.

  “What’s goin’ on, Y/n?” Steve asked. You laughed harder then winced. Your stomach had been cringing up at random. It could have been your period, but it was a strange cramp. It felt like sharp pins being pushed through your skin. It was hurting on your lower-right side. You were sure it was nothing. The last time you were actually sick was when you were seven and had the flu. Nothing, not even a cold, had appeared since then. You were going to get through this, just like everything else.

  You looked up at Steve and Soda with a smile on your face. They were both right handed. It was easy for them to arm-wrestle each other. Dallas, however, would be difficult to arm-wrestle fairly. He’s left handed. You laughed softly. You glanced at Dally and he gave you a small nod. You were allowed to tell them.

  “Dallas is left handed. You two are arm-wrestling with your left hands. Your left arms wouldn’t be as strong as your right ones. Dallas’ left arm is dominant, so he’s stronger in that arm. It’s a completely unfair game.” You stated. Soda’s eyebrows knit in confusion and Steve sighed loudly. What idiots.

Keep reading

A Super Help (Fem!Reader)

@jackie-sugarskull This prompt moved me so much. I don’t think my heart can take this any longer. The Captain interacting with children is my absolute favorite thing ever.

Hope you enjoy!


There! That should be the last of them!”

The Captain clapped his hands together, brushing off the dirt. Your ten year old daughter and her little brother watched in awe as the superhero helped load the last cage onto the animal control van

“Who knew gophers could grow that BIG!!!” Your daughter threw her arms up in wild emphasis, while your five year old son began to play pretend, growling as if he too were a rabid gopher.

“Thank you so much, Captain! You really saved the day!” You eagerly threw your arms around the trouser-less wonder.

Haha! It was no trouble at all, Ms. Y/n!!!” The Captain beamed, tightly wrapping his arms around you in return. “Trapping them was easy once we found out they were magnetic mutant gophers! Just open the hatch to the metal cage and they zip right in!”

The gophers snarled and rattled in the van, stuck to the sides of their metal cages. The Captain released you, and your two children came running to cling to your legs.

The Animal Control workers slammed the van shut, and soon they were driving off, taking the reactive rodents far, far away from you and your children.

Captain Underpants let out a proud exhale, placing his fists on his hips.

“Well, it was a pleasure seeing you all again.” He said tenderly, playfully tousling your son’s hair.

“Huh? No, don’t go yet!” He reached up to grasp at the Captain’s cape.

“Yeah!” Your daughter piped. “Can’t you stay just a little longer, Captain Underpants?”

He could swear his heart was ready to shatter to pieces. He bent down to their height and placed a hand on each of their shoulders.

“I really wish I could but I’ve done my duty, young ones. I don’t want to overstay my welcome.” He brought your children in for a warm embrace.

You couldn’t bear to see your son and daughter in such disarray. It isn’t every day their favorite superhero comes for a visit. Actually this was only the third time they had ever seen him in person. Apparently he had saved their school on more than one occasion.

One of those occasions being in the middle of your class when the school was being overtook by an invasion of stink-spewing skunk cabbage creatures thanks to the work of a new garden-themed villain.Three of the creatures had you entangled in their vines, forcing you to inhale their toxic fumes.

That is, until Captain Underpants swooped in, tearing you from their creeping foliage and whisking you, along with the rest of the school to safety.

The other time was when a dastardly fiend attempted to swarm the school with hundreds of tiny android insects, which you had to admit was pretty cool at first. They were actually pretty cute, and the kids loved playing with them, especially your two.

But when you saw that vile man attempt to attack your son when he accidentally crushed one under his sneaker, that’s when you drew the line. Your daughter tried to step between, arms outstretched to defend her little brother, but to you horror she had taken a swift kick to the side, knocking her clean to the floor.

But before you could react, that brief-clad hero quickly intervened, scooping up your daughter and son in one arm, then delivering the evildoer a swift uppercut to the jaw.

You gazed in awe at the strange bald hero as he clobbered the villain to the ground, then gently lowered your children into your arms.

“Take care of them. I’ll have an ambulance on the way for your daughter, Miss Y/n.” He said to you before returning to finish off the creepy-crawly creep.

You held your children close. “Th-Thank you, Captain… Wait! How did you know my-….”

But it was too late. He and the villain were gone, and the mechanical bugs were all scurrying out of the building. And in an almost second, an ambulance siren wailed around the corner of the elementary school for your daughter and whomever else was in need of assistance.

So you did technically owe him three times for his valiant efforts.

You tapped at your chin.

“You know, I was planning on baking a pie tonight.” You grinned amusingly.

It was almost as if you had revealed the Holy Grail.

PIE?!” Your children exclaimed with stars in their eyes.

You nodded contently. “Mm-hm. It would be a shame if you couldn’t join us for a slice.” You flashed a playful wink at the Captain.

“Oh…? Well, I do believe it would be rather rude of me not to partake, now wouldn’t it?”

The Captain passed the wink to the kids who in turn, clung to the hero in delight.

You couldn’t help but laugh as the waistband wonder soared into the sky, twirling your two children in his arms.

“Alright, you three!!!” You shouted up to the sky. “Come on inside and I’ll start making the crust!”

“I wanna put the filling in!!!” Your daughter exclaimed.

“I just wanna lick the spoon after!” Your son giggled.

“Alrighty then! To… YOUR KITCHEN!!!

And with that being said, the Captain swooped down with your children, racing into the house while you happily sauntered behind.


“Mmf-… Thiff if a luffly place you haff here, Miff Y/n!” The Captain attempted to speak through a mouthful of your favorite pie.

“Thank you, Captain. It’s an old place, but I think we spruced it up rather nicely, the three of us.” You replied, sitting down on your sofa next to him with your own plate.

“Captain Underpants, look!!! I like superheros too!!!” You smiled as your son came running into the living room with an armful of crayon drawings, haphazardly spreading them on the floor in a personal gallery for the Captain to view.

The Captain’s eyes lit up. He swallowed and leaned forward to get a closer look.

“Wow, son! Those are amazing! Is this you?” He picked up a drawing of a boy in a bright green cape flying and saving a cat from a burning building.

Your son pumped his arms excitedly. “Yeah!!! When I grow up, I wanna be a superhero just like you, Captain!!!”

Meanwhile your daughter sat in the back corner in the recliner, scribbling away in her writing notebook.

“I’m sorry bro, but you’re gonna need superpowers for that to happen.” She scoffed.

“Superpowers?! HA!!!“ The Captain set down his plate on the coffee table. “They do help quite a bit, but you don’t need superpowers to be a hero! Why when I first became Captain Underpants, I didn’t even have powers!”

REALLY?!” Your son put his hands on the Captain’s knee, his mouth open in shock.

“Mm-hm! But I knew deep down in my heart I wanted to do something good for the world.” He reached under your son’s arms and plopped him down on his knee. “If you really want to be a superhero, you need to ask yourself one thing and one thing only: …. Do you want to do something good for the world?”

YEAH!!!” Proclaimed your son, pumping his fists in the air once more.

“Then, my boy, you CAN be a hero!!!!” The Captain lifted your little boy in his arms, holding him high above his head.

It was a beautiful sight, seeing your son so overjoyed. You knew he was going to remember this moment for a lifetime. Even your daughter was enthralled in the excitement. It almost felt like the moment could last forever.

“Well, I am sorry to say this, but I think I need to be heading home.” The Captain glanced out the window, noticing the sun was just about to set for the day.

“Aw, really?!?!” Your children moaned as he lowered your son back to the floor.

“It is getting rather late. You two need to be getting ready for bed!” You felt like a sword was being driven through your chest watching the happiness drain from your children’s faces, but you knew it had to happen eventually.

“Can you come back tomorrow, Captain?” Your son asked, tugging slightly at his cape. You reached down and scooped him up in your arms.

“Honey, Captain Underpants has to keep an eye out and protect the city. That’s his job! He’s got to make sure no weird robot gophers come back to take over Piqua!” You bounced him in your arms, making him giggle. You turned back to the Captain.

“But please, don’t be a stranger, will you?” You smiled graciously.

“Only if there’s more of that delicious pie!” He winked, then turned to your daughter who was back in her chair, still writing away.

“You’ve been rather quiet back there, Little Lady. What are you working on?” He asked.

Your daughter quickly folded her notebook shut and pointed to the cover.

“I’ve been writing about all the times you saved us! I never want to forget them!!!” She beamed proudly.

The Captain chuckled and ruffled her hair. “Be sure to keep those safe and sound. And who knows? Maybe someday you’ll become Piqua’s next ace reporter!”

A wide, toothy smile spread across your daughter’s face. And with a leap off her chair and a tight hug goodbye to the Captain, she bolted up the stairs to her bedroom.

“Thank you, Captain Underpants!!! I won’t let you down!!!” She yelled as she darted into her room.

You and the Captain shared a laugh as you lead him towards the door.

“Will you be safe heading home, Captain? Er-… I mean I know you’re a superhero, but it is getting dark and I-…. Ugh, I’m a mother, what do you expect?” You shook your head, wanting to kicking yourself.

“Not a problem, Miss Y/n! I appreciate the concern!” The Captain wrapped his arms around you and your son one last time. “Thank you for such a wonderful time!”

You nodded. “Yes, please do come again! I’m sure the kids would love seeing their favorite superhero again someday.” You gave a small kiss to the side of your son’s head.

The Captain saluted and clicked his heels. “You have my word!!! And now I must bid thee, farewell and goodnight!!!”

And with a bend of his knees, the Captain soared high in air. A triumphant “Tra-la-laa!!!” echoed through the evening sky as he zoomed off into the night.

Your son let out a long, heavy yawn, which contagiously made you yawn in return.

“Let’s get you up to bed, then, shall we?” You cooed, taking him back inside.

The sleepy boy rubbed his eyes. “Mommy, do you really think I can be a superhero like Captain Underpants?”

You smiled, bringing him close in your arms.

“Yes. Yes, I do, sweetheart.”

anonymous asked:

I have a character who gets shot, in the chest. It does not pierce the heart, it just nicks it, leading to blood filling the pericardium (i probably didn't spell that right) how long would it take for the heart to be too squished to beat? Also if this isn't feasible any suggestion for an alternate wound site? Thank you so much!

Hey there! You’re actually correct: the pericardium can indeed fill with blood after being nicked!

For those unfamiliar with this effect, this is a condition called pericardial tamponade (or cardiac tamponade).  The heart is enclosed in a sac called the pericardium. When fluid – sometimes pus or chyle, but typically blood–builds up in the pericardium, it puts pressure on the heart itself. That pressure eventually overcomes pressures tha the heart is able to generate on its own, and the heart stops being able to get blood out into the circulatory system (and especially over to the lungs for oxygenation).

Here’s a visual, courtesy of :

The rate at which blood builds up in the pericardium is dependent on the rate of the bleed.

Note that this is actually more likely if the shot hits not just the pericardium  but the ventricle itself. The ventricle, especially the left, can sustain a GSW and bleed into the sac. You need a source for the bleeding. What you don’t want is for the wound to penetrate into the actual ventricle; you want the muscle wall to be nicked, not completely perforated.

I would give your character some time, but not a huge amount. A pericardial tamponade due to trauma should really be dealt with inside of half an hour, and survival beyond one hour is extremely limited.

So long story short, dearest nonny, your situation is realistic, and it’s a surgical emergency.

This character needs a trauma center, and they need it right now. Someone has to crack open this chest, put in a drain (a pericardial window, basically a flap cut in the pericardium to let it drain), and suture the ventricle shut.

The character can live or die, it’s up to you!

Best of luck with your tale.

xoxo, Aunt Scripty


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anonymous asked:

whats been your experience with top surgery? did you like your doc and all

Yeah! Top surgery went well for me!
I mean, I would have liked a friendlier doctor - the guy I went to was pretty dull and quiet and was all business so at times I felt kind of uncomfortable with him. But he knew what he was doing. He seemed shady when I asked him to show me pictures of past patients’ results, but I realized that the reason he was hesitant was because almost all of the photo comparisons he had were of patients who had far more complicated chests than mine so it wouldn’t have been an accurate reference for me anyway. A couple of them had previous damage from improper binding so their results didn’t look too good but it was not the doctor’s fault, it was their fault for binding with tape.

So here’s the story of the actual surgery:
My surgery was done at around 7:30 AM on October 3rd 2016. I was honestly pretty relaxed going in there. It wasn’t too busy or noisy at the little surgical center I went to (which was connected to a larger hospital) so I didn’t have to lay there on the cot waiting and waiting and waiting to go in. I went in the little curtained room thing, answered some questions, they had me change, the doc marked up my chest, they hooked me up with an IV, sat for a couple minutes, and then they pumped that happy drug in and rolled me through the doors. I remember getting into the surgical room. I was too high off that relaxant at that point to even be bothered by the fact that they’d already started strapping my arms down like Jesus on the cross. I remember looking around and seeing like 20 people which was not what I expected at all.  Then I was out like a light. 
The surgery took about 2 hours, and I woke up high as a kite in the same curtained room. There were two nurses. I remember being so fucking happy looking down at my chest and seeing it bandaged up. I lifted up the lip of the bandages and honestly couldn’t see anything underneath because it was so tight but I knew my chest was flat as a board. Nothing hurt (yet). I didn’t even notice the drains. I was just chilling there all loopy and I kept waving at people when they passed by the open curtains. Pretty sure I asked the same nurse how the surgery went like 10 times. Then my doctor came in and said everything went well and that he did need to put drains in (he told me to plan for them but it was never a promise that I’d need them.)
At that point, I was awake enough that they moved me over to a big chair, switched me from the johnny to my flannel shirt + sweatpants, and gave me some water. I wasn’t nauseous, thank god. And I wasn’t loopy anymore either. I could feel the drains now that the hospital-strength pain meds were wearing off.
Then I was literally ECSTATIC when I saw my Mom, Dad and (surprise) Grandma coming towards me. (Yes, Grandma was a surprise. I did not know she would be visiting. I guess my Mom and Dad went to hang out with her at her house nearby until I was done, and so she figured she’d come visit.) I was so excited and showing them how flat my chest was even with the bandages on and showing them how weird the drains looked. 
I’m really chill with my family. They were nervous about me getting the surgery, obviously, but there was definitely a good vibe in the room now that I had made it past the ‘big’ part. My Grandma impulsively bought my family the biggest party tray of cookies I’ve ever seen. 
After my Grandma left, the nurse showed my parents and I how to empty the drains and measure the drainage. They gave the little drainage chart and a little study guide about how the drains worked. Every 12 hours I would have to empty the fluids from the drains into a little measuring cup [PHOTO - blood warning]
Then my parents helped me get my sneakers on and the nurse wheeled me out to the car. I was given my cell phone back at this point, of course, so I spent the whole ride home messaging my friends that I survived, lol. 
One unusual thing that happened though is that my seatbelt was too tight on the external portion of my right drain. About 5 minutes away from home, my right side started feeling very warm. And then I didn’t note anything of it until we were parked in the driveway and I unbuckled my seatbelt to find a gigantic patch of blood on the bandages. I went into panic mode thinking I broke the drain (I didn’t think something was wrong with my chest because there was no obvious pain). But after figuring out that nothing was actually wrong and that the blood was just unable to travel downwards through the drain (therefore traveling back into the drain port and leaking out from there), I was fine and just mildly pissed off that my ace bandages had a blood stain. [PHOTO] Thankfully, my Mom had foot surgery 3 months before and she had extra ace wraps that I just used instead. Be careful with seatbelts, guys.  

So once I was in the house, I basically stayed there for the next 5 days. I was upstairs 24/7 pretty much. The only time I went outside during that time was when my rat Ozzy died 3 days after my surgery and I went with my Dad to bury him in the yard. That fucking sucked. But aside from the dead pet, those 5 recovery days were aesthetic as fuck. Since it was October, I made sure to decorate the shit out of my room while I could still lift my arms. I had Halloween lights up every where [PHOTO], and I had a bunch of Halloween candy to pig out on [PHOTO]. I ate like a fat ass when I was hungry, but I wasn’t very hungry due to to percocet (oxy) that I was prescribed for pain. I actually ended up losing 5 pounds in 5 days due to not eating big meals (plus my high metabolism) even though I certainly ate a lot of cookies, candies, and Frostys (my aunt kept calling me and insisting she come visit and bring me Wendy’s, lol. She’s an occupational therapist and so she was very intrigued by how I was recovering and visited almost every night to talk with me).
I’d also bought a new TV a few days before the surgery too. So I had my TV and PS4 set up right in front of my bed so I wasn’t ever lacking entertainment. I watched Breaking Bad during the day and then Bob Ross before going to sleep. The pain meds made me so sleepy so I usually would just pass out watching Bob Ross, haha. I made a habit of it too. 10/10 would recommend passing out while watching Bob Ross. Usually the end credit music would wake me up and remind me to turn the TV off, haha. 
Also, @xrdpan gave me this very cute little guy as a gift - [PHOTO]
And yeah, this is getting a little off topic. But I definitely had a memorable week of recovery. Sometimes I wish I could do it again for another day or two. Cause despite how uncomfortable the drains were and how much weight my scrawny ass lost, I was so relaxed and got to watch a LOT of TV.

So back to post-op care -
I was not given a binder after surgery. I had to use the ace bandages while I still had the drains in, and then I was given a prescription for a compression tank top (that i literally had to go to this lingerie store to get) once the drains were out. That was kind of annoying. I had hoped for a decent surgical vest like what most people get, but yeah. 

My drains were in for 10 days. They were uncomfortable, but I didn’t have any bleeding complications or any complications at all so they definitely did their job. It didn’t hurt when they came out either. It felt awesome once they were out and I could really get a good look at my chest. The drains caused snake-like lumps all throughout my chest and it looked weird.
Drains in - [PHOTO]
Drains out - [PHOTO]

And as for sensation, my chest was very numb for about 1 month including the nipples, and then was half-numb for another couple months. But after the 3 month point (which was around the time I didnt have to wear anymore compression), the sensation was coming back on it’s own very well. I’m 7 months post-op now and have all sensation back except for my right nipple which isn’t 100% numb but doesn’t really react to touch. I have a couple small fleshy spots, mainly on the left side, where they almost have too much feeling and are tender if pressed down on. It feels like a muscle thing. 

Uhhh so that’s an essay if I ever saw one! Hope you got something useful from it! I’m always down to talk about my experience and make everything more clear and possibly less scary for everyone who’s interested in top surgery. I had a good experience overall! No complications! 

Here’s some recent pics if you’re interested!

2 months - [PHOTO]
4 months - [PHOTO]
6 months - [PHOTO]

Blood – Kim Wonshik

Pairing: Ravi x Reader

Genre: smut

Word Count: 314 words

Drabble request: Not sure if this is where I’m suppose to put them, but I really like your work! Can I request some vampire!au fluff/smut?? with Ravi in which he gets a lil embarrassed from drinking blood during sex? “What? I like your shoulders.” “Say that again you little shit.” Thank you! I hope you have a good day

“What? I like your shoulders” and “Say that again you little shit”

Just a side note, Ravi is daddy as fuck (even though Hongbin’s my bias lol) hope you enjoy and I hope this made sense ( @storiesingold )

“You’re such a pussy.”


“You’re such a pussy, Y/N.” He repeated, a smirk on his ridiculously handsome face.

“Say that again you little shit.”

“You’re a pussy. You don’t have the guts to take control.” That lead to yours and Wonski’s bodies were flushed together, your hands on his chest and his hands on your waist as he guided you up and down on his cock, moans echoing throughout the room. “Fuck baby, please…c-can I drink f-from you?” he groaned out, slightly embarrassed by asking, but looking at you for permission, which you have gave as you muttered out a “yes”.

He moved closer to you and you gasped as Wonshik’s sharp teeth pierced your delicate skin on your shoulder. He looked at the blood dripping down your neck, groaning when the smell hit his nose, bringing his tongue to lick up the blood and then wrapping his lips around the two small cuts in your skin. A groan left your mouth as a flicker of pain rushed through you, quickly subsiding into pleasure. “Fuck Wonshik…” you moaned as started rocking your hips against him, making it easier for him to drink.

He moaned onto your skin, swiping his tongue over the two cuts, making them close up before growling slightly and pushing you down onto the bed, not wasting a single second before he was pounding into you roughly. Your mouth opened but no sound came out, pleasure rushing through all of your body.

It didn’t take long for your orgasm to flood through you, Wonshik following a few moments after with a low groan, falling onto you. “Babe…” you pushed his chest weakly, being drained from the feeding and the sex. “Ah, sorry.” He pushed himself off of you, laying down beside you. “My shoulder…?”

“What? I like your shoulders.” You laughed a little as he wrapped his arms around you.

Originally posted by arabmorgan

Congratulations: Reprise (Angelica-x-Jefferson)

“Congratulations: Reprise”
Series: Hamilton: An American Musical
Genre: Angst, [light] Romance (ish)
Couple: Jefferson/Angelica
Rating: T
Summary: Jefferson has to answer to Angelica for what he knew, and what he did.
First Published: 2/20/2017 at 2:21 PM on Tumblr
Written by: Brittany R./FoxieSango/Rikareena

A/N: In celebration of #Reneeappreciation week.  My first Angelica/Thomas fic!  I want to do another that I hope I can crank out later today.  But in the meantime, enjoy!  Rated T for language (as the entire play is).

For this piece, I imagine that Angelica and John Church (if you want to still acknowledge him) have had a divorce.  So she’s reeling from that, and has to come home and deal with what Ham has done to her sister because of Jefferson (just to add to the angst).

So, there ya go!

              “MY GOD!  You are the most ridiculously frustrating, ego-centric, high-maintenance, obnoxious, pretentious man I’ve had the honorable DISPLEASURE of meeting in my ENTIRE life!”

               “Aw, I love you too, princess,” Jefferson said, with a smirk.  He had his legs propped up on his desk, crossed at the ankles.  He was leaning back in his spinning, rolling chair with his elbow on one of the arm rests and his chin lightly propped on the back of his hand.  Angelica stood in front of his desk, clenching her fists at her sides in fury, and bit back a low growl.

               “Ugh!  You’re infuriatingly impossible!  No one told you to…to goad Hamilton into…into…”

               “Ruining his political career?”

               “DESTROYING HIS FAMILY!” she shouted, tears welling up. Jefferson’s own eyes bucked wide.

               Oh shi—

              He swung his legs down from his desk and sat up straight.

               “A-ange…Ange wait—”

               “Damn-it, you…you knew!  You knew he wouldn’t back down from a threat and you exacerbated the situation!  Did you even THINK about the repercussions?!  Of course you didn’t; you never think about anyone but yourself!” she said, knocking some papers off his desk.  “Well if you wanted to rip apart a loving family…MY family, then CONGRATULATIONS!  You succeeded!  I hope you’re proud of yourself!” She turned and immediately made her way for the door when he stood up and made his way in front of her, grabbing her by the arms.

               “Hey! Hey-hey-hey, hold on!  Now that’s not fair, Ange!  Hey!  Now listen, no one.  Told. Hamilton, to break his loyalty to your sister.  Okay?”

               “Oh, shut the hell up, Jefferson,” she struggled against his hold. “I’m not an idiot!  I already chewed Hamilton out for breaking my sister’s heart, but infidelity is not a foreign concept in this day and age.  What they DIDN’T need is for their names to be dragged through the mud and to be scorned by society BECAUSE of the scandal.  It just inflamed everything, and THAT I blame solely on you! You set everything in motion!”

               “N-now, now hang on!  We didn’t know about the affair, alright?!  We just suspected pecuniary speculation.  HE told us about the affair of his own free will.  HE was the one who was so insecure that he felt the need to defend himself by exposing everything.  We let it all go WAY before he did that!  C’mon, do you really think I’d do anything to hurt you on purpose?!”

               “That doesn’t make it fucking better, Thomas! You’ve been out to ruin his credibility since day one and you succeeded FAR beyond your expectations!  That’s why you’ve been so smug for weeks!  You didn’t even CARE about what the speculation charge would do to his family, to MY SISTER!  MY NIECES AND NEPHEWS!  And when you found out that the charge was much WORSE, OH-HO-BOY did you rub salt in the wound!  You basked in his demise!  You’re a fucking asshole, and you-you’re no better than he is!” she cried smacking his arms away.  

               That stung.

               There was an ache in his chest at seeing the seething despair overtaking her.  Hot tears flowing freely down her face, teeth clenched, a vein clearly visible on her forehead, arms folded tightly against her chest.  She was crumbling before him….he couldn’t take it.


               “Just…leave me alone…I must tend to my sister,” she tried to move past him.  It had been her in duties to try to pick up the fragile pieces of her dear Eliza’s heart while trying, and failing, to keep her own from shattering.  But Jefferson wrapped his arms around her from behind.

               “Damn-it, let GO of me, Jefferson!  Don’t TOUCH me!”

               “NO!  Listen, Y-you’re right…okay?  I’m an idiot. I’m a moronic idiot and I only think about myself. …But…but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.”  His voice was breathless, as if he was trying to grasp onto…something…anything.  There was a pause.  He turned her around again and softly pressed her head to his chest, wrapping his other arm around her waist.  She was stiff in his arms and pushed against him.

               “You—you mean the world to me, Ange.  I’d…never intentionally hurt you, or your family.  You…have to know that, right?!” he asked.  After about a minute, he leaned back a bit and cupped her face in his palm, thumb gently wiping away her tears.  Her hands rested lightly against his chest, drained from her attempts to push him away.

               “Thomas…” her voice was wound tight.  He kissed her forehead,

               “I-I’m sorry.  I’m so sorry.  This…it shouldn’t have gone this far.  We just…” he sighed, “the Federalist Party has been so…obstinate lately because of Hamilton and we haven’t been able to get anything done.  We couldn’t take it anymore; the administration was on the verge of imploding,” he said.  She frowned,

               “A weak excuse… ”

               “I know I…” he sighed and tightened his grip around her.  “Politics…are…a necessary evil…” he said.  There was a beat before he heard the tiniest of giggles escape her and she shook a bit in his arms, trying to stifle her laughter.  She buried her face in his shirt and a small smile played at his lips.

               “Damn it, Thomas.  That’s not the quote and you know it!”

               “Well, you would know.  I wouldn’t expect anyone who didn’t avidly dabble in Paine’s work to get it.  …It’s one of the things I love most about you,” he said.  

               “…Words can be empty, Jefferson.” she said.  There was a pause and he sighed, knowing she meant it in more ways than one—not only in him showing his genuine feelings for her, but also in his supposed support for what she stood for, what she believed in.

               “Besides, it sounds to me more like men just letting their petty pride and ambitions get in the way of diplomacy.”

              “…Heh.  I-I don’t know…if the world is yet ready for the powerful minds of women like you,” he said. And she frowned at the audacity of him to allude to another topic he’d been adamantly avoiding for months now.

               “But that doesn’t mean I won’t stop fighting for your voice, Ange.  Yours and your sisters,” he said, meaning her sisterhood, not just her family.  He placed his hand on the back of her head again, tucking her smaller figure just under his chin.

               “After all, your opinion is the one I hold in the highest regard; and the only one I really care about.” She tsked,

              “….You’re still an asshole.”

               “I know.”

               “But, maybe you’re not..entirely hopeless…” she said, absently fiddling with the ruffles at his neck.  “I’m still furious with you.”

               “I know.”

A/N: Reviews are welcome!

@iputmyselfintothenarrative, @a-schuylerr, @hamwriters

Medical facts and tips for your writing needs

Okay, guys. Here’s the deal. I have had too many fanfics and other stories just RUINED for me with terrible and painful inaccuracies having to do with basic medical processes and facts… and I just CAN’T anymore. Please, let me help you. PLEASE.

This is way too long, graphic at some points, and really, basically, please send me an ask if you want any basic info on what would happen in a certain situation. 

Keep reading

Dark Mark: Sirius Black

Originally posted by darkroomsuicide

hi! can you do a imagine with sirius, where reader stops talking to the marauders and lily (they share dorm) and one night she tries to drown herself in the bathtub bc her family made her take the dark mark during vacation and sirius saves her? thnkx

I tug on the sleeve of my sweater once again, hissing when the material brush over the sore skin decorated in the unique skull design. The material falls down to the ground and I quickly unhook my bra before sliding into the lukewarm bath, my frozen body melting and sinking down until the water level reached my chin. The bubbles shift and sway, covering my body, while filling the room with a lavender fragrance. The soothing atmosphere calmed my tormented soul until memories of this Summer began to flash against my closed eyelids like a picture show. I thrash around in the water, whimpers falling from my slightly parted lip, and it was as if I was once again brought back to the night my dark mark was forced onto my delicate paper thin skin. The ink contrasting against my pale skin, reminding me each day that I was forever burdened and tied to Voldemort.

When my eyes open up, the world seem to have gone black and white. The once warm water was now going cold and my tears mingled with the water. Taking a deep breath I begin sliding down into the water even more, I didn’t stop until my whole body was submerged and I was looking up at the ceiling. My lungs screamed for air but with my hands pressing against each side of the tub I release an angry shout, water rushing into my mouth and immediately filling my lungs. I could see everything fading from the corner of my eyes but I didn’t move, the pain would be over soon and then I would feel nothing. A small smile played on my lips as I take one last look at this world and allow my eyes to flutter shut.

“Would you like any refreshments ma’am?” A soft voice asks above me, I look up from the book I was reading and saw that the voice belonged to a sweet old lady dressed head to toe in a waitress uniform. I shake my head and smile before turning my eyes to the window, watching the scenery blur together as the train sped down the tracks.

“Come here often?” I brake my trance and once again turn to see who was disturbing my peace and saw Sirius casually leaning against the compartment door. He was dressed in a pair of black slacks and a white dress shirt with a couple buttons undone to show off his creamy dark complexion, his hair was sleeked back and the normal stumble shaved clean.

“What?” I ask, closing my book and setting it down beside me. He smirks and push his body up and swaggered over to my sitting frame. His cool fingers reached out and grip my cheeks, warmth suddenly pouring through my body and this heavy feeling on my chest.

“What’s a sweet thing like you doing here?” He mumbles underneath his breath, obviously unaware that I could hear him crystal clear. I frown, realizing that I didn’t really know what I was doing here or what here really was to be exact, the one thing I know for sure is that it feels as though a piece of me is missing.

“I don’t know,” I whispered and he smiles lovingly before dipping down and capturing my mouth in a surprise attack. My eyes widen in surprise and I stare at him as his mouth moves over mine effortlessly, it takes a while but I regain my senses and push at his chest repeatedly until he was sitting on the bench across from me.

“It’s time to wake up (Y/N). It’s time for you to wake up,” I was about to ask him what exactly he means but the surrounding starts to melt and mingle together until all remained was Sirius’s dark eyes. He winks and then a gust of wind blows away the last of the scenery until I was simply floating, not exactly moving until my body was lurched forward.

My eyes open up widely and I jump into a sitting position as I cough up the remaining water in my lungs. Soft hands rest on my lower back and I lean into their body as I gasp for air repeatedly, trying to fill my system with as much oxygen as I could. The room was spinning and I could hear people moving around me and see the outlines of their body. A towel was draped over my wet form and then a dry rag was used to dry my face and then move on to dry my damp hair. Sirius whispered soothing words into my ear and I could vaguely hear Lily say that she was going to get me clothes to wear. I shift until my face was buried into his neck and held onto him as my frame shivered and beg for warmth.

“I know why you did it,” He mumbles, giving Remus a small nod after the grungy lad finished checking you for wounds and internal damage. “Why didn’t you tell us? We would have figured out a way to keep you safe.”

“It was too late, they dragged me from my bed in the middle of the night and took me to the lair of you know who. I tried to fight but I wasn’t strong enough, I wasn’t strong like you wanted me to be Sirius!” I shout, my fist beating on his chest until I drained the small energy I had.

“I know sweetheart; I promise we’ll be here for you. Every step of the way, finding ways to cover the mark and to stop the pain, just promise me you won’t do that again. I can’t afford to lose you again,” His tears dropped down onto my body and I nod my head as his arms tightened around me.

“As long as you stay.”

“I wouldn’t imagine going anywhere else.”

anonymous asked:

Saizo for the possession prompt, please!!

[I actually got a ton of these, so I kind of piled on the angst– this goes out to all you lovers of Saizo who want to see him suffer- lol]

(Want to change the name? Use this!)

Saizo’s eyes were cold, and black, and empty. Dead. Devoid of any love he felt for you. His armor was dented and ripped, the mage’s blast he protected you from having taken its toll. But when you tried to help him, he responded with a kunai swung at your face.

You were still in shock. Saizo’s movements were lightning fast, barely giving you any time to react. His attacks were precise, centimeters from striking you. Those that did left you littered in cuts and bruises. You were losing steam, fast.

“Saizo-!” You choked on his name, swerving out of the range of his weapon. Saizo growled murderously, lunging at you. “Saizo, stop!!”

You knew he couldn’t hear you. You could see it in his eyes- black and soulless. Your husband had become a puppet of the enemy. He was going to kill you.

Keep reading

Cold reality

My mind got clouded since the moment I saw you, for a moment I felt peace, for a moment I smiled as if it was real.
All of that happened in just a moment, and just like that, it went away when you left.
There I was again, feeling a void in my chest, feeling life being drained out of me, feeling the cold reality of being alone.
There I was again.

(Written and submitted by @shyly-romantic)

anonymous asked:

For the insert a prompt to be used in one of your current projects- first kiss

Ok so you get 3 and a bit! This is from a fun cheery project I’m in the process of writing:


Her lips pressed into his with a warmth that he couldn’t describe. As if all of the cold in his hollow chest was being drained from him, replaced by rays of light.

Leslie pulled away and her eyes widened, as if she wasn’t too sure what came over her.

Ben swallowed. Three months to live and he’d just had the best first kiss of his life.


Essays in Existentialism: Arkers II

modern clexa au: basically, clarke gets tired of the world asking her if she’s dating lexa so she announces the truth. lexa is more than pleased with this turn of events. [part 2 of this]

Previously on Arkers

“Never again,” Clarke groaned from the mat on the ground. “How did you convince me to do this?” 

“Pout,” Lexa explained through gritted teeth as she continued the exercises. “You’re a sucker for it.” 

“Never again.” 

“Really? Not even if I beg?” 

Keep reading


Even In The Darkest Places, I Think Of You (Part two)

Part one 

“Good, you’re awake. I was wondering when you would come around.” A robotic voice fills your ears as your eyes flicker open. How did you get here? You must have been knocked out, but by who? The last thing you remember is being out on patrol, trying to keep the city under control while Batman takes care of the bigger problem. 

“W-Where am I? W-Who are you?” You ask, struggling to speak. Your head still feels so heavy. The room around you is dimly lit, making it difficult to see anything. 

Keep reading

June 9, 2017

We had Enzo’s Post-Op appointment and he is cleared to resume life as usual. His bloodwork came back normal and he just needs a chest x-ray and some vaccine boosters.

So, what you didn’t know is that three days into our hospital stay Enzo had to have surgery. He had an infection on the outside of his lungs that they had to go in and clean out. They left him with a chest tube to drain all the remaining fluid for five days and once they saw improvement we were able to leave. Our total stay was 10 days. It was stressful and scary but we made it through and now he is back to normal, as normal as he can be. We got the bill that is being sent into our insurance and it made me start sweating. I’m thankful we have insurance even if it is shitty, I’m so very grateful.

Meanwhile I’m sitting here at 1am googling how to propagate aloe vera plants to keep from stressing out on everything I should actually be doing. Plantcrastination! I don’t have anything close to a green thumb so wishful thinking!


Russian Sleep Experiment

Depiction of the tragic events outlining initial and last runs of The Russian Sleep Experiment and the supposed use of the neurotoxic Nikolayev gas.

The following depicted events have been acutely documented by the remaining members of the original study (Researchers). Who fled the grasp of the NKVD (KGB) in the 1940-1950s. The accuracy can be argued but the depiction displayed below ↓ is based off on the journal entries and stow aways from the original experiment. The leak sources remain anonymous with whom I (The Webmaster) am corresponding with.

Nikolayev Gas: The original purpose of this gas was deemed to have soldiers stay awake on a battlefield for extended periods of time throughout war. This would allow the government to either use less soldiers or allow for that number of soldiers to become a greater force.

The gas was found to be named after Felix Nikolayev: A esteemed soldier with limited descriptions rendered from the remaining journal entries of the experiment.

Today there is evidence found that more refined versions of the Nikolayev gas is used today as a hypnotic catalyst and as a truth serum.

Below is whats considered The Original Predecessor of “Nikolayev” AKA. The Russian Sleep Experiment


The Russian Sleep Experiment


Soviet researchers from the late 1940s kept five people awake for fifteen days using an experimental gas structured stimulant. This was in term called “The Russian Sleep Experiment” They were kept in a sealed environment to carefully observe their oxygen intake so the Nikolayev gas didn’t kill them, since it was toxic in large concentrations. This has been before the existence of closed circuit cameras therefore they had only microphones and 5 inch thick glass porthole sized windows into the holding chamber to monitor and keep track of them. The holding chamber was stocked with various publications, cots to sleep on but no bedding, running water and toilet, and adequate dried food to last all five for upwards of a month.

These test subjects were political prisoners deemed as enemies of the soviet state during The second world war.

Protected Entrance to The Experimentation Chambers ↓

The First Five Days

Everything was running smoothly with the sleep experiment; the subjects hardly complained having been promised (falsely) that they would be freed if they submitted to the test and did not sleep for experimented days. Their interactions and routines were monitored and it was noted that they continued to discuss increasingly traumatic incidents they’ve experienced in their past, and the overall tone in their conversations took on a darker aspect following the 4 day mark.

After five days they started to protest concerning their circumstances and events contributing to where they were being held and all commenced to show signs of intense paranoia. They ceased conversing withone another and began instead to whispering to the the microphones and their one way mirrored portholes. Oddly all of them appeared to think they could win the trust of the experimenters by snitching over , the other subjects in captivity with them. At first the researchers suspected that this was indeed as result of the experimental gas itself…

The Ninth Day

The first of them started off screaming. He ran along the chamber consistently screaming at the top of his lungs for Three hours without pause, he continued attempting to scream but was only capable of producing infrequent squeaks. The researchers postulated that he had physically tattered his vocal cords. Probably the most surprising thing about this behavior is how the other captives reacted to it… or rather didn’t react to it whatsoever. They carried on whispering to the microphones up until thesecond of the captives started to screaming. The 2 non-screaming captives took the books apart, smeared page after page with their own feces and pasted them calmly over the glass portholes. The screaming promptly ceased. So did the whispering to the microphones. The Porthole windows have became un-viewable.

The Twelfth Day 

The researchers checked the microphones hourly to make certain they were working, since they thought it was not possible that no sound could be coming with 5 people on the inside. The oxygen intake in the holding chamber indicated that all 5 must still be alive. The fact is, it had been the volume of oxygen 5 people would consume at a very heavy amount of strenuous exercise. On the early morning of the 14th day the study did something they said to the prisoners that they would not do. In order to obtain some sort of reaction from the captives, they used the intercom inside the chamber, aiming to trigger any kind reply from the captives that they were afraid were either dead or vegetables. They declared: “We are opening up the chamber to test the microphones step away from the door and lie flat on the ground or else you will be shot. Consent will earn one of you your immediate freedom.” To their surprise they heard but a single phrase in a very quiet voice response: “We no longer want to be freed.”Debate broke out among the research workers and the military forces funding the study. Not able to provoke any more replies via intercom The Researchers had finally decided to open the chamber at midnight on the fifteenth day.

Fifteenth Day | Midnight

The chamber was purged from the Nikolayev gas and filled with fresh air and instantly voices from the microphones had begun to object. 3 different voices began pleading, as though they were begging for the life of loved ones to turn the gas back on. The chamber was opened and soviet soldiers sent in to retrieve the test subjects. They started screaming louder than ever before, and thus did the soldiers when they had the chance to see what was on the inside.

Brief Warning:

The Following details depicting the events that followed might be considered graphic in their details.


The Russian Sleep Experiment: Part II


Four of the five subjects remained alive, despite the fact that nobody could rightly call the state of the test subjects as ‘living. ‘ The food rations past day 5 hadn’t been so much as touched. There was chunks of meat from the deceased test subject’s upper thighs and chest stuffed into the drain down the middle of the chamber,obstructing the drain and allowing 4 inches of water to amass on to the floor. Exactly how much of the water on the floor was actually blood never was determined.

All four ’surviving’ Russian Sleep experiment subjects also had significant portions of muscle tissue and epidermis torn far from their bodies. The destruction of flesh and exposed bone on the subject’s finger tips revealed that the wounds were inflicted manually by hand, not with teeth as the research workers initially considered. Closer study of the position and angles of the wounds revealed that most if not all all of them were self-inflicted. The abdominal organs underneath the ribcage of all four test subjects have been removed. While the heart, lungs and diaphragm stayed in place, the skin and the majority of the muscle tissue attached to the rib cage had been ripped off, exposing the lungs in the ribcage. All the arteries and internal organs remained intact, they had just been removed and laid on the floor, fanning out about the eviscerated but still living bodies of the subjects. The digestive tract of all four could be seen to be working, digesting food. It quickly became apparent that what they were digesting was their very own flesh that they had ripped off and eaten throughout the course of days and nights.

Most of the soldiers were Soviet special operatives in the facility, but still many refused to revisit the chamber to remove the test subjects. They carried on to scream to be left inside the chamber and alternately begged and demanded that the gas be turned back on, lest they fall asleep… To everybody’s surprise the test subjects put up a fierce fight while being taken out of the chamber.Among the Soviet soldiers, one perished from getting his neck punctured by a test subject, another was gravely injured by having his testicles ripped off and an artery in his leg severed by one of the subject’s teeth.

In total: 5 of the soldiers, following the incident took their own lives after being witness to their comrade’s deaths. In the struggle one of the four living subjects had his spleen ruptured and he bled out almost immediately. The medical researchers tried to sedate him but this proved impossible. He was injected with serum DMT using more than ten times the human dose of a morphine derivative and still fought like a cornered animal, kicking to breaking the ribs and arm of one doctor. When heart was seen to beat for a full two minutes after he’d bled out to the point there was more air in his vascular system than blood. Even after it stopped he continued to scream and flail for an additional 3 minutes, struggling to attacking anyone in reach and just repeating the word “MORE” repeatedly, weaker and weaker, until he finally fell silent.

The remaining three test subjects were heavily restrained and transferred to a medical facility, the two with intact vocal cords continuously begging for the Nikolayev gas demanding to be kept awake…By far the most seriously injured of the three was taken to the only surgical operating room that the facility had. In the process of preparing the subject to have his internal organs placed back within his body it turned out that he was effectively immune to the sedative they’d given for him to prepare him for his surgery. He struggled furiously against his restraints once the anesthetic gas was brought out to put him under. He managed to tear the majority of the way through the 4 inch wide leather strap on one wrist, even with the bodyweight of a 200 pound soldier holding that wrist as well. It took merely a little more anesthetic than normal to put him under, and the instant his eyelids fluttered and closed, his heart stopped. In the autopsy of the test subject that deceased on the operating table it was discovered that his blood had triple the normal level of oxygen. His muscle tissue which were still attached to his skeleton were badly torn and he had broken 9 bones in his fight to not be subdued. Most of them were from the force that his own muscles had exerted on them.

The second survivor was the very first of the group of five to start screaming. His vocal cords messed up he was unable to beg and resist surgery, and he only reacted by shaking his head violently in disapproval once the anaesthetic gas was brought near him. He shook his head yes when somebody suggested,hesitantly, they try the surgical procedure without anesthetic, and did not react for the whole 6 hour operation of replacing his abdominal organs and attempting to cover them with what remained of his skin. The surgeon presiding stated repeatedly that it should be clinically feasible for the affected prisoner to be alive. One terrified nurse assisting the surgery stated that she saw the patients lips curl into a grin several times, whenever his eyes met hers. Once the surgery ended the subject looked over at the surgeon and began to wheeze loudly, attempting to speak while struggling. Assuming this must be something of drastic importance the surgeon had a pen and pad fetched so the patient might write down his message. It was simple. “Keep cutting.” The other two test subjects received the same surgery, both without anesthetic as well. Although they had to be injected with a paralytic for the duration of the operation. The surgeon found it extremely hard to execute the operation as the patients laughed continuously. Once paralyzed the subjects might only follow the attending researchers with their eyes. The paralytic cleared their system within an extraordinarily short period of time and were soon looking to escape their bonds. As soon as they could speak again, they were again requesting the stimulant gas. The study attempted at asking why they had seriously injured themselves, why they had ripped out their very own guts and why they wanted to be given the gas again. Merely one response was given: “I must remain awake.”

The three subject’s restraints were reinforced and they were placed back into the chamber awaiting conviction in regards to what ought to be done with them. The researchers, facing the wrath from their military ‘benefactors’ for having failed the stated goals of the project considered euthanizing the remaining subjects. The commanding official, an ex-KGB instead saw potential, and wanted to see what can happen if they be put back on the gas. The study strongly objected, but were overruled.

In preparation for being sealed in the holding chamber again, the subjects were connected to an EEG monitor and had their restraints padded for long term confinement. To everyone’s surprise the three stopped their struggling as soon as it had been let slip that they are to be going back on the gas. It was obvious that at this point all three were putting up a great struggle to stay conscious. One of subjects that could talk was humming loudly and consistently; the mute subject was straining his legs against the leather bonds with all his might, first left, then right, then left again for something to concentrate on. The remaining subject was holding his head off his pillow and blinking rapidly. Having been the first to be wired for EEG most of the researchers were overseeing his brain waves in surprise. They were normal more often than not but sometimes flat lined inexplicably. It looked as if he were repeatedly suffering brain death, before going back to normal. As they focused entirely on the paper scrolling out of the brainwave monitor only one nurse observed his eyes slip shut at the same moment his head hit the pillow. His brainwaves immediately changed to that of deep sleep, then flatlined for the last time as his heart simultaneously stopped.

The sole remaining subject that could talk started screaming to be sealed in now. His brainwaves showed exactly the same flat-lines as one who had just died from falling asleep. The commander gave an order to seal the holding chamber with the two subjects on the inside, as well as 3 researchers. One of the named three immediately drew his gun and shot the commander point blank between the eyes, then turned the gun on the mute subject and shot his as well… He pointed his gun on the remaining subject, still restrained to a bed as the leftover members of the medical and research team fled the area. “I will not locked in here with these things! Not with you!” he screamed at the man strapped to the table. “WHAT ARE YOU?” he demanded. “I have to know!” The subject smiled. “Have you forgotten so easily?” The subject asked. “We are you. We’re the chaos that exists within you all, begging to be free at every moment in your deepest animal mind. We have been that which you hide from in your beds every night. We’re what you sedate into silence and paralysis when you go to the nocturnal haven where we cannot tread.” The researcher paused. Then aimed towards the subject’s heart and fired. The EEG flat-lined whilst the subject weakly choked out.