doctor drain

You'll Miss Me When I Go

Part 3:

Sitting in the hospital waiting room, while doctors were draining the fluid from Lance’s lungs, was one of the longest and worst 2 hours of Keith’s life.
Since the parimedics arrived Keith had been on auto pilot.
He kept hold of Lance’s hand all throughout the ambulance ride trying not to listen to the driver and passenger whispering and trying to figure out just how many times they had picked Lance up.
They had wheeled Lance away as soon as they arrived saying something about emergency surgery.
Keith had tried to follow only to be stopped by a nurse that told him to take a seat.
It was almost an hour before he could bring himself to actually even consider texting Coran to explain their absence.
It was another 30 minutes before he actually did it.
Keith ran his still shaking hands through his hair.
He just couldn’t get the image of Lance covered in blood and gasping for breath out of his head.
“Keith!” Hunk yelled barley giving him a chance to look up before he was tackled with a hug.
“Where’s Lance? What happened? Is he ok? Are you ok? What did the doctors say?” He asked panicked.
“Calm down my boy, give the lad a chance to speak.”
Keith looked over his shoulder to see a softly smiling Coran.
He seemed older somehow, like he was drained just being in the hospital.
Hunk nodded sheepishly as he released Keith and took a step back.
“Is it bad?” Pidge asked hovering by the door way. She looked pale and on the verge of panicking but somehow was able to keep it together.
Keith looked down at his hands.
“I don’t know what happened… I just found him in the closet coughing and covered in blood…”
“A closet? What was he doing in there?” Hunk asked exchanging a look with Pidge.
“I… I think Lotor put him in there.” Keith suggested awkwardly.
Hunk went very very still, a dark expression crossed his face.
“Pidge.”
“Y-yes Hunk?” She asked a little hesitantly.
“Remind me, when we’re done here to go and have a little chat with Lotor. This is something that’s been a long time coming.”
Keith shuddered at the cold unforgiving tone of the kindest person he had ever met.
“There will be time for that later.” Coran placed a calming hand on Hunks shoulder, but he too looked furious.
“McClain?” A nurse asked.
Hunk quickly forgot his anger, it now replaced with concern for his friend.
“Here! I’m his emergency contact, is he ok?.”
The Nurse was quiet for a moment.
“I’m afraid not. His Lungs have deteriorated much faster then expected. It would be best if arrangements for a hostel could be made.”
Keith felt cold dread settle in the pit of his stomach. “W-what do you mean?” He asked already knowing the answer.
“I’m afraid Lance doesn’t have much time left, there is nothing more that can be done other then making sure he’s comfortable.“
The words hung in the air.
Pidge started to cry and Coran hugged her but seemed close to breaking as well.
Hunk stared numbly into space his mind unable to process the information.
And Keith couldn’t help but think about their first meeting and how pretentious he had thought Lance was for grieving for himself.
He had been wrong about Lance.
So very very wrong.

Night on the town, part 7

Pairing: Leonard McCoy x Reader

Word Count: 1947

Warning: Language, implied sex, fluff

Part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6

You settled into life easily aboard the Enterprise.  During alpha shift, you worked alongside the medical staff as though you had known them all your life.  Working beside Leonard, you learned all his quirks and ignored when his temper flared. Honestly, you found the grumpiness adorable and made sure you told him whenever he directed it towards you. That usually made it worse then he would huff and walk away.  The crew let you know of the positive influence you had on Leonard.  While he still had his moments, his whole demeanor was altered.  There were far more smiles and less of the attitude, especially if you were near. It all blended together with what was now your life.  You were happy plain and simple.

It had not taken long for you to move to share quarters with Leonard.  Just over a month, really.  Your nights had consisted of making love as though the galaxy would end in the morning and sleeping between whose ever quarters were closer at the time.  It got rather annoying after a while and it was Leonard who actually made the suggestion first.  The pair of you were lying in his bed, curled up, with you just moments from falling asleep.

“Move in here with me.” He had whispered into your ear. You were still in that in between place of almost asleep but not quite there yet.  So you were not sure you had heard him correctly.

“Mmmm?”

“Just move in here with me. This goin’ back and forth between places and not havin’ all of your stuff in one place.  Plus, I love you, damn it.  I want you with me all the time.”  The speech had woken you fully.  Rolling over to face him, your surprise was apparent.  

“You mean that?  I’m not going anywhere, Leonard, I promise. I’m yours.  We don’t have to rush it if you aren’t ready.”  His past haunted your mind often.  Not that you talked about it with him much, but you did not want to scare him away.

“Darlin’ it isn’t rushing. We haven’t slept a night apart since you got here.  Well except when we get stuck workin’, but you know what I mean.  It would make things easier just bein’ in one spot.  As I said, I love you.  I want this to last with you.  Someday on an even more permanent basis.”  You understandably agreed after that.  The mere thought that he wanted to marry you someday caused you to crawl on top and show him how happy you were.  Of course, he did not mind in the slightest.

It took the Enterprise six weeks to get back to fully functional after the damaged caused when the ship had been out of communications.  There had been many long shifts of repairs and for you treating injuries sustained during those repairs.  One evening when Leonard was pulling a double shift to help M’Benga, you were sitting alone in the mess hall, contemplating how you would stay vertical if you were to stand now and head back to your quarters.  Exhaustion had seeped into every fiber of your being and you truly just needed sleep.

“You look awful.”  The voice causing you to look up with half lidded eyes.  Nyota took a seat in front of you with her dinner tray.

“Thanks.  It’s a new look I am going for.  I call it ‘drained doctor.’  Think it will catch on?”  She laughed as she took a sip of her tea.  Truth be told she did not look much better.

“I think it already is. The whole crew is running on fumes now. We need a break, badly.”  Nyota sighed as she began to eat.  You winced as you tried a bit of your coffee, it was ice cold.  Damn, how long had you been sitting there in your delirium?  

“Did I hear someone say needing a break?”  Jim took the seat beside you.  The aroma of hot coffee hit you.  In one quick motion, you stole his coffee cup, setting your cold one on his tray in trade.  “Hey, that’s mine!”

“Sorry, I need hot coffee if you want to live another day without ending up in the sickbay.”  Jim frowned but started on his meal.  Since you had come aboard, you and Jim had become fast friends.  Leonard thought he would hate the two of you joking or drinking together on a regular basis. However, it had the opposite effect. His two best friends had become friends and it made him smile.  While many times you and Jim would joke about Leonard, far more were the times you would gang up on Jim.  “What were you saying about a break?”

“Oh yeah that…”  Jim finished chewing the large mouthful before he continued.  “We have to dock at Earth anyway.  The ship has to be evaluated to make sure everything is running perfectly and within regulations before we are allowed back to deep space missions.  Seems it’s going to take several weeks or so.  I think it’s time we actually get a shore leave.  A real one, not the abbreviated one, like last time.” Both you and Nyota looked over at him, excitement on your faces.

“Are you serious?  Or are you trying to see if we break and mutiny?” Nyota asked wide-eyed.  Jim laughed as he finished another bite.

“I’m serious. Everyone is a mess.  The crew needs it.”  In your excitement, you downed the rest of the coffee, kissed Jim’s cheek and ran off towards sickbay to tell Leonard.  A whole month off on Earth would be wonderful.  Leonard could meet your grandfather and maybe you could meet his family as well.  Leonard was not quite as excited as you were but he was happy at the prospect.  He messaged his mother then Jocelyn and Joanna to make sure everyone would be around.  Begrudgingly Jocelyn said Joanna could spend the time in Georgia.  His mother was ecstatic and promised there would be endless peach cobbler for everyone during your stay.

You made contact with your grandfather and he said he would have the house ready for you and Leonard the latter half of the trip.  He was happy to finally be able to meet Leonard and to have some time with you.  All the plans were falling into place.  You and the crew would just have to make it another week without major incident.  

The patient load had lessened since the completion of the ship’s repairs.  Far less injuries, which made for an easier time for the medical staff. Now there was actually time to write up the reports, take stock in what the sickbay needed, and straighten up the mess that had accumulated since everything had begun.  By the time the ship had made it to Earth, the entire crew was on edge with excitement.  The last night before leave, a party was planned, since most everyone would be scattered across the planet.  You had never seen so much alcohol on board a ship.  Obviously, the crew had been able to hide their stashes in craftier ways but had brought them all out to enjoy.  

The cargo bay had been cleared and then set up like a makeshift bar.  Loud music heard from the comm system and many bodies packed tightly dancing in the middle.  Nyota found you first, dragging you across the room towards where Jim and Spock were standing.  Spock looked unimpressed by the gathering but his face relaxed a bit when Nyota wrapped her arm around his waist.  Jim handed you a cup of something purple lifting his cup at you as he downed it.  “What the hell is this?”

Jim shivered as the drink went down. “I don’t know.  I probably don’t want to know but it will get you drunk.  Where is Bones?  He actually let you out of his sight longer than five minutes?  He better not be in sickbay.”  You shrugged at him, downing the drink just as he had.  It tasted awful at first then left you with a sweet twist as an aftertaste.

“He said he had something to do real fast and he would meet me here.  He has been acting weird all day.  Maybe he is just exhausted or needs a moment without me around.  Being stuck with me all the time has to be draining.” Jim moved close and put an arm over your shoulder squeezing lightly.  

“That man loves you to no end.  I know for a fact, he wants you around all the time.  Bones is just Bones and he does things in his own special Bonesy way and time.  Like chasing me around with the fucking hypoes.  He enjoys it a lot more than any man should.  But it’s just him.  So don’t worry so much.”  You laughed as he drunkenly tried to make you feel better.

“Hands off my girl, Jim.” Jim removed his arm on your shoulder, as you turned to look at Leonard.  He leaned down to kiss you lightly brushing a piece of your bangs out of your face.  “Told you I wouldn’t be long.”  You smiled brightly up at him wrapping your arms around his waist, before looking back to the group.  The rest of the night went on without further issue.  Leonard had refrained from drinking so it was no surprise when he had to throw you over his shoulder to get you back to your quarters without a fight. You giggled the entire way about how hot his ass looked, even pinching it a few times for good measure.  He settled you into bed with a hypo to help prevent a major hangover in the morning.  That man loved you.

In the morning, the ship had docked on Earth.  Leonard had to kiss you awake so you could shower and pack up for the month shore leave. Thanks to his care the night before you felt just fine and it did not take you long to prepare.  The whole time though he was acting odd.  He would look as though he needed to say something then stop or stare at you for several minutes before looking away quickly. When you asked him about it, he brushed it off saying it was just his distracted mind, and it was fine.  You let it go and went about your morning. Later when were about to step off the ship, Leonard grabbed your arm stopping you.

“[Y/N], can I ask you something?”  You looked back at him with a smile.

“Of course.  What’s going on?”

“I’ve been trying to talk to you since last night.  It just wasn’t a good time or I felt like the words wouldn’t come out or you just flat out dazzled me with that smile.”  His tone was difficult to gauge and a group had started to gather around you.  

“Leonard, what’s the matter?”

“Nothing is wrong, baby. It’s right actually, very right. I didn’t want to go back home without asking.  And now here we are about to step foot back on Earth and I haven’t gotten to ask you.” The group had grown larger now; you were feeling weird with all the eyes staring at you.

“Come on Bones, you are rambling.”  Leonard ignored the remark from his friend as he continued.  However, now he had gotten down on one knee.

“It’s been seven months today that I met you.  Seven months of me being happy and wanting to spend every moment with you.  You are the star in my life that keeps everything bright. I don’t want to go another day without you being mine.  [Y/F/N Y/M/N  Y/L/N] will you marry me?”

Part 8 


@feelmyroarrrr  @bolontiku  @aquabrie   @malindacath  @mysteriouslyme81

@supernaturallymarvellous @ryverpenrad @imaginativefanatic  @newhappiness430 @hellhoundsandunicorns  @martinawalker  @pinkamour1588  @infinite-exist-ence   @thesummer-rain  @swiggityswagness

anonymous asked:

A blurb where you an Harry have been trying to have a baby for a while, and it just doesn't happen, and one day you are showing the symptoms so you decide to take a pregnancy test and as you wait for it in the bathroom he is just outside the room waiting for the good news, and it comes out positive and you go outside and just nod at him and he knows, and you just share a big hug and grin

“Harry…are you sure?”

Your voice was a soft croak as you looked up at your husband from over your shoulder, the cold tile of the bathroom pressing against your bare thighs.

You had just spent the past ten minutes throwing up into the toilet bowl, with Harry holding your hair back behind your shoulders as he pressed soft kisses to the top of your head. It had been four days now that you’d been getting up in the early morning to throw up—you knew what it possibly meant, but you didn’t want to get your hopes up. Not again.

You and Harry had been trying for almost half a year to get pregnant. The countless negative pregnancy tests, ovulation strips, and trips to the doctor had just about drained you of all hope of having a child naturally—the two of you had the money to go through artificial means, but that didn’t stop the sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach.

Your body had failed you.

It had taken you weeks to finally feel like yourself again—to be able to look at a baby in the street and not feel like someone had punched you in the gut.

Which is why when Harry suggested taking a pregnancy test, you really didn’t want to get your hopes up.

“m’sure…” he murmured, nuzzling his nose into your tangled locks. “It’s your choice…but I think we should, love.”

Your lower lip trembled a little as you nodded your head, holding back the bit of nausea that resided in your stomach.

Despite yourself, you felt a small ray of hope.

It’s four a.m. and you wait for Harry as he runs to the twenty-four hour pharmacy, not knowing that he’s just about breaking all the speed limits and runs about three red lights on the way there and back. In the meantime you’re sipping on a glass of water that he’s left for you. 

Ten minutes later he’s back, and you hear him stumble a little bit as he went up the stairs before appearing in the doorway of the bathroom. 

 The look on his face was filled with hope, and that’s when you realized that despite your reservations, you were as well. He steps outside of the bathroom as you take the test, giving you some privacy. A minute later you set the stick on the counter and set the timer on your phone, staring at yourself in the mirror.

It was the longest five minutes of your life. 

Your eyes scanned your body as you waited, and they narrow in specifically on the slight bit of pudge on your belly that wasn’t there a month ago. It’s so small that it could literally be a food baby, or just a little bit of weight gain. 

But it could also be your baby. 

Your hands fly instinctively to your belly as you sucked in a breath, and everything didn’t quite fall into place like it used to. Your heartbeat was pounding in your ears as you kept your hands against your stomach, as if it was their new home. 

Five minutes go by and your breath catches in your throat at the sound of the timer go off. 

You tap your phone screen quickly and it takes you a good thirty seconds because you can will yourself to look down at the little stick that had your fate in its hands. Once you do, tears spring to your eyes. 

Seven minutes after he leaves you in the bathroom you emerge to look at Harry—his eyes are wide and he’s standing in the middle of your bedroom, obviously having been pacing the entire time. His hands are in his hair and he’s looking at you like you’re the center of the universe. 

Your lips immediately spread into the biggest of smiles, and he swears that he can see a nod of your head. 

He covers his mouth with his palms suddenly, his own eyes shining with tears. He takes a small step backwards, almost as if catching himself from a fall—his shoulders rise and fall a little bit as his eyes lower to your belly, where your hands now permanently reside. 

And suddenly, he’s rushing towards you. 

His arms wind around your body and squeeze you tight, you and the new love of his life. His features bury in your shoulder and you nuzzle against his hair, sniffing quietly. His tears are staining your shirt but you couldn’t care in the slightest, and you tangle your fingers in the soft locks at the back of his neck. 

You stand there for what seems like ages, holding each other and occasionally swaying side to side. It was the moment that the two of you had been waiting for for so long. The challenge of getting pregnant had only made your relationship stronger—Harry had never been more understanding, kind, and empathetic to your worries and your insecurities. Where some couples might have fallen apart, the two of you had found solace in each other.

But this was the greatest gift you could have ever received at the end of that incredibly difficult tunnel.

Eventually Harry’s hand finds its place at your belly, his voice a soft murmur. 

“We’re gonna have a baby,” he exhales almost in disbelief, his voice shaky yet confident all at the same time.

A soft hiccup of a sob escapes your lips at his words. It didn’t really hit you until then, until he said the words out loud and you realized that your lives would be forever changed. 

“You’re gonna be a daddy,” you sighed contently, exhaling a soft giggle. You pull away from your embrace only enough to look at his features, and the both of you are grinning ear to ear—he presses his palms on either side of your face ever so gently, leaning in to pepper your cheeks and your lips with kisses.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he murmurs repeatedly, and he’s suddenly kneeling in front of you, nuzzling his nose against your belly. It makes a fresh set of tears appear in your eyes, and you reach down to gently massage his scalp through his brown curls. 

You had never been more in love.

8

Listen to me, whatever you want, if it’s life or form or consciousness or voice, you don’t have to steal it. You can find it without hurting anyone.

before you go,
we’ll hug on stairs
as blank as my pages
as torn as our faces,
bloodshot by the goodbyes
we’ve tried to hide
since the day a doctor drained
your blood
like a flood
—  @thefias-co

victorypanda  asked:

If its not too personal can I ask about the cancer treatments like what kind and when it start showing and how are you dealing with it?

Oh nah, not too personal at all. Take a seat, I’ll spill my guts.

Now in June of 2015, I was at my local xsport. I was resting between sets, and I happened to glance at my right knee. And fuck if there wasn’t a gumball sized bump directly above my left patella. I was understandably unnerved, but I finished my workout, headed home and opened up Google.

Tangent: if you can, always go to a doctor. The Internet is generally wrong and unhelpful.

Anyways, I google bump on the knee and I figure I have fluid collecting in my bursa. A little water on the knee is all. So I grab a knee wrap and continue on with my life.

And over the next couple of months, it grows.

From gumball to golf ball to racquetball.

And in September, I get cast in a musical. I was so excited. So fucking happy. But I’m gonna be wearing short shorts in the production. So I head to general practitioner, she pokes it, calls it bursitis and refers me to a local orthopedic doctor to drain. I make the appointment, get some x-rays, chat with the doc, and he pulls out the biggest fucking syringe and jams it into Frankie (I’ve named the bump) and drains…

Nothing happens.

No fluid comes out.

The doctor stops. Removes the needle. Carefully applies a band aid to the tiny spot of blood. He tells me that he’s going to schedule an MRI for me tomorrow. He says not to worry. Sometimes lumps happen. It’s not attached to anything, so removing it won’t cause much damage. But they’ll biopsy it afterwards. Just to be sure.

I get the MRI. I schedule the surgery. October 17th. I go under, I come out. I’m able to walk out of the hospital, albeit with crutches. And I heal. Pretty quickly actually. A week later, I’m practicing the riverdance number, and it’s great! The next day I head to my post op appointment.

“It’s Cancer”

That’s what she says to my question ‘what’s a sarcoma?’ It’s cancer. And I’m being referred to RUSH university medical center, an orthopedic doctor who specializes in soft tissue tumors. It’s cancer. I get scheduled for another surgery, October 22nd, less than two weeks from the first. It’s cancer. They need to excise more tissue, skin, muscle, tendon, bone, make sure they get EVERYTHING out. It’s cancer. They lay out my treatment plan. Surgery, recovery, tests, radiation, recovery, tests, chemo, recovery, tests, chemo, recovery, tests, chemo, recovery, tests, chemo, recovery, tests, recovery…

It’s cancer and I am so angry. This is a betrayal on a level I can barely comprehend or not even begin to explain.

I go in for the second surgery. It, at least, goes well. I have to drop out of the musical, because even lying perfectly still hurts so much. I’m pretty much confined to bed while my body heals. It hurts so much I can’t sleep. I think for that first week after the surgery I may have gotten 4 hours of sleep total. I couldn’t use the bathroom without help. My leg was wrapped in a bandage, wrapped in a Bledsoe brace. After 3 weeks,(maybe 4? 5? It’s all a blur really) I’m able to move enough to start physical therapy…

JESUS FUCKING CHRIST.

It hurt. And I was always exhausted. But it worked. I learned to bend my knee, learned how to walk again. I’m not so great with time, so bear with me. It was a little before Christmas 2015 that I finished therapy. And met with the radiation doctor.

Radiation itself? Not so bad. It itched like mad though. Daily doses to my knee. Slowly baking it, a terrible sunburn that never got the chance to heal. I’m pretty sure the skin on my right knee aged 20 years in the months I was undergoing radiation. The nurses and technicians at the radiation center are amazing and kind and made a scary thing bearable.

A couple of weeks of recovery, for the itching to subside. Then- Chemotherapy.

There’s a bunch of tests I need to undergo before chemo starts, just to get a baseline of the “healthy” me. So they can compare it during and afterwards. I have a port put in, because I’m terrified of messing up the picc line. Another surgery, simple, in and out. Two weeks later the actual chemo starts.

The nurse tells me stories as she accesses the pet with a wicked looking needle. “This goes almost directly into your heart” she says. “We get people who try to use them for recreational drugs”. I cannot fathom that.

Tangent: I am terrified of becoming addicted to any controlled substance- legal or illegal. After my surgeries, I maybe took 2 of the heavy duty pain meds they gave me.

Chemo was awful. In a way I can’t truly describe. You’re always tired. No matter how much you rest. Your mental battery never gets charged past 10%. You get mouth sores, and nausea, smells are overpowering and Jesus Christ you just want to poop! Seriously, there’s a whole regimen just to keep your bowels working correctly. Your bowels are super important to your health and we need to stop being ashamed of the fact that we piss and shit. Everyone does it.

But back to chemo. I had 4 rounds of it. 3 days of infusion, 18 days of recovery. Repeat. One of the medicines gave me constant hiccups, so I was prescribed a muscle relaxer. Every day begins and ends with a saline flush.

I can’t stand the smell of saline anymore. It and old fryer oil make me nauseated.

My hair falls out, of course. I try to shave it off my head, so I’m not surprised. But you forget things. Eyebrows. Leg hair. Stubble. There’s a big difference between having shaved hair and having no hair. I’m unearthly pale, because my body isn’t producing as much blood as before. I’m scared of getting sick because my immune system is basically non existent. I get nose bleeds because my platelets are minimal. And they take so long to stop. Tissue after tissue soaking with blood. Blood I don’t have to lose.

For 4 months, I get out of bed. Every day. I make my way through the day as best I can. I rest when I need to, and I need to, a lot. I eat what I can. I even manage to make it to the gym regularly. My blood counts are low, but surprisingly good for someone undergoing my treatment. I attribute it to my working out. My body has always worked efficiently, stupid goddamn slow metabolism, is actually working in my favor.

Tangent: that’s the funny thing about your metabolism. People with fast metabolisms run hot, burning through calories and fat like no one’s business. They’re the ones who can eat pizza everyday and still have a six pack. Is slow metabolism people? We run cold. Our bodies do everything with as little energy as possible and clings to fat like a lifeline. It’s why we struggle to lose weight. But it’s also why we survive the harsh winters and lean times.

After 4 months of being exhausted - I’m finally done. My last chemotherapy infusion was at the beginning of May. My recovery is going to keep going up now, and not immediately get knocked down by another round of chemo. I started to be myself again. To bake again. To sleep without nosebleeds. To actually rest.

Mine was not the worst case scenario. At the same time I was diagnosed, the mother of a friend of mine was diagnosed with luekemia. She underwent 24 hour infusions for 7 days straight. So no, my experience wasn’t the worst it could have been. But it was bad enough.

There was no reason for my tumor. No genetic defect( I got tested), nothing environmental, no fucking reason. I was told by multiple doctors “you got dealt a bad hand”. That’s all.

I am forever changed by this experience. Literally. I’m scarred in 2 places, and you can see where I’m missing muscle in my lower quadriceps. I will have to undergo regular tests and scans for the rest of my life.

But for the moment, all is well.

And that is enough.

Good lord that was long. Well, you asked :)

anonymous asked:

Patroclus has cancer and Achilles can't cope, especially because he can't fix this, there's no one to fight this time.

It started with a cough. Patroclus insisted that it was nothing, but Achilles could not stop the worry that curled around him when he heard the wet, labored breathing when he rested his head against Patroclus’s chest. It was just a cold, he had insisted, a bit of sickness that went along with the weather steadily heading towards the winter.  Achilles should have known better, Patroclus had never fallen ill before.

The coughing steadily turned into gasping breathes and hacking at all hours, shaking Patroclus’s body with worrying intensity.  It kept getting worse until blood and mucus started blending into one.  Patroclus was so tired he could hardly get out of their bed, he said he was fine.  Achilles held him close as the tremors shook his body in the night.

They waited, months spent wrapped around each other in comfort as they waited for the sickness to pass.  It never did, it simply grew worse.

Keep reading

Regenerations.

  • First Doctor: ‘Wearing a bit thin’ while in Mondas.
  • Second Doctor: Forced by the Time Lords.
  • Third Doctor: Radiation Poisoning from the Great One’s webs.
  • Fourth Doctor: Fall.
  • Fifth Doctor: Spectrox toxaemia.
  • Sixth Doctor: Got fatal a head injury during the Rani’s attack after having his energy drained.
  • Seventh Doctor: Failed open heart surgery.
  • Eighth Doctor: Activated by an elixir after being on a crashing ship.
  • War Doctor: Old age from fighting in the Last Great Time War.
  • Ninth Doctor: Absorbed massive amounts of time vortex energy.
  • Tenth Doctor: Absorbed massive amounts of radiation while in the Vinvocci glass room.
  • Eleventh Doctor: Old age and a new life was granted to him from the Time Lords via the cracks in time.
Early Dissmissal

Imagine: The Doctor coming to get you in the middle of class

Fandom: Doctor Who

Warnings: None

Also- leaving out any description of the doctor so you can imagine it as your Doctor :)

-

You sit drained or all logical thought and energy, but you were not attacked by a cyberman, you were just sitting in senior science class. It’s times like these you hate that the Doctor brought you back here to graduate high school, listening to some teacher babble on about theories. You are doodling a little dalek on the margin of your notes when you were startled by a loud noise.

“Y/N” the teacher yelled.

You’ve faced aliens and evil monsters but nothing more terrifying than Mrs. Moore “Yes?” you asked

“Would you like to contribute to our discussion about the existence of aliens?” she asks

You smile and think of the doctor, “Yes I do”

“Why?” Mrs. Moore responds.

Just then a man bursts open the door “Y/N” he says, you recognize that voice!

“Doctor?” you say, it was him! Your Doctor! Standing in your classroom!

“Y/N, come with me” The Doctor says

Excuse me, but who are you and what do you want with one of my students” Mrs. Moore asks

The Doctor pulls out an ID paper and holds it up for Mrs. Moore to see, “I’m Dr. Doctor, from the University of Roxocoricofalipitorious” he says

Mrs. Moore takes the pad and I’m already packing my bag to go, psychic paper has never failed on a teacher.

“Where is your University… Doctor?” Mrs. Moore questions handing back the psychic paper.

“Wales” he said

I get up from my desk, “Wait there Miss Y/L/N, what do you want with her?”

“Just a quick adventure, I’ll bring her right back” the Doctor shoots you a subtle wink.

You walk across the room, you peers completely confused, “And by the way” the Doctor says before you and the Doctor leave

“That’s wrong” he points to the board behind Mrs. Moore.

Mrs. Moore turns to look at the board but when she turns back around you are gone. Off to see another planet, another world, another species or another time. Mrs. Moore may teacher space, but you live it. You live it with the Doctor, your best friend.

4

these idiots 

-’And I suppose… if it’s my last chance to say it…’

-‘Since it’s unlikely that we’ll ever meet again, I might as well say it now…’

k/c dollhouse au - happy (very) belated birthday, jenn!

You see someone running incredibly fast, the first thing you gotta ask is, are they running to something or are they running from something. The answer is always both. So these personality imprints, they come from scans of real people. Now, I-I can create amalgams of those personalities, pieces from here or there, but it’s not a greatest hits, it’s a whole person. Achievement is balanced by fault, by a lack. Can’t have one without the other. Everyone who excels is overcompensating. Running from something. Hiding from something.