he's just an old country doctor

271: Axes

Axes, much like knives, have been used in Ozark folk healing as a method of symbolically “cutting” maladies like fever, cramps, or birth pains. They’ve also traditionally been employed by weather conjurers to “cut” through storms and cyclones. 

Under bed for chills – “Some families are accustomed to treat chills-an’-fever by placing an ax under the patient’s bed.” ~Randolph OMF 146

Under bed to cut birth pains – “Near Pineville, Missouri, I once sat with a neighbor out in a woodlot, while his wife was giving birth to a child in the house. This man had a regular physician in attendance, but one of the neighborhood granny-women had arrived ahead of the doctor. The patient screamed several times, and then the granny-woman came out to the wood pile and picked up the ax, which she carried into the house. I was horrified at this, but the husband sat unmoved, so I said nothing. After it was all over I asked the doctor privately how on earth the old woman had made use of a five-pound double-bitted ax in her obstetrical practice. The doctor laughed and replied that she just put it under the bed. ‘A common superstition,’ he said. ‘It’s supposed to make a difficult birth easier, and she saw that this was going to be a pretty bad one.’

“Later on I learned that this ax-under-the-bed business is practiced in all parts of the Ozark country. An old granny near Sulphur Springs, Arkansas, told me that an ax used for this purpose must be razor-sharp, since a dull ax may do more harm than good.” ~Randolph OMF 200

Under bed for fever – “An axe under the bed will break the fever.” ~Parler FBA II 2226

Under wash pot to stop rain – “Put an axe under a wash pot to keep it from raining.” ~Parler FBA XI 9617

To divert a cyclone – “When there is a cyclone coming, put an axe in the ground with the handle pointing in the direction of the cyclone, and the storm will go around.” ~Parler FBA XI 9698

“When a storm cloud threatened, and the folks of the village sought cellars for safety, she would grab an ax, rush into the yard, swing it in the air, calling out widely, ‘I’ll cut ye hyar, I’ll split ye thar.’ Through some kind of witchcraft or magic she would ‘cut the cloud in two’ and break the power of the twister.” ~Rayburn OFE A-13 “Axes”


Parler, Mary Celestia - Folk Beliefs of Arkansas
Randolph, Vance - Ozark Magic and Folklore
Rayburn, Otto Ernest - Ozark Folk Encyclopedia 

Dr. Leonard “Bones” McCoy x Reader

haloshornsglitter requested a Bones x Reader quickie where reader was injured on an away mission and Dr. McCoy provides some comfort.  I don’t know if this was what she was looking for, but I hope she enjoys it!

You just couldn’t believe your terrible luck.  It was finally your turn on rotation to go on an away mission, to visit a planet never before seen by humans, and what happened?  You’d gotten distracted by this alien flora and managed to trip, tumbling ass over teakettle down a rocky outcropping.  By the time you landed, you knew something was broken, maybe even multiple things, but at the very least your forearm which to your horror you found had an extra bend in it where one definitely should not be.  

To your shame, after first aid treatment including some pain relievers, you were summarily ordered back to the Enterprise by the team’s commanding officer, who made a bigger deal of it than necessary by sending a comm to the transporter room requesting someone to escort you to Sick Bay upon your return.  Apparently he thought you couldn’t even manage that without hurting yourself further.  It didn’t alleviate your frustration when you were met by a junior security officer and a nurse to usher you to the infirmary, the former of which not trying to hide his disdainful amusement at your failure.

Dr. McCoy was standing in the med bay, checking the calibrations on one of the sickbeds when you were brought in.  He was already prepared for you, equipment at the ready, obviously made aware of the situation.  When you were finally laid on the bed in front of him, he fiddled with some buttons while asking in his gruff voice “What happened down there?”

“I wasn’t paying attention,” you muttered quietly, feeling like an idiot.  "I stumbled and fell.“

"So much for any more away missions,” the security officer snickered.  And it cut you pretty deep.  Just about everyone on the ship knew how eager you had been to go, and now everyone would now you failed.

But Dr. McCoy’s eyes snapped up to him, hard set, angry.  "Nurse, get this guy out of my sick bay before he becomes the next patient.“

That startled him enough that the nurse, unfazed by the remark, barely had to do anything to get him to leave.  And you had to admit, it surprised you too.  The doctor had always had a reputation for being a bit of an abrasive personality with anyone besides his closest confidantes.  You supposed that’s just how old country doctors were.  So, him coming to your defense like that was a new experience.

"Damned jackass,” he grumbled under his breath.  McCoy went about a full body scan, though he did manage to quirk up the side of his lips at your scandalized expression.  "No one gets to insult my patients but me.“

Perhaps it was the pain medication, but you couldn’t help frowning deeply.  "He’s right though.  My first chance and I failed miserably.  I’ll never get to go again.  I’ll be a laughing stock.”

“Don’t let what he said get to you,” McCoy replied distractedly, keeping an eye on your read-outs.  "Looks like you managed to fracture both ulna and radius in your right arm.  And you broke a couple fingers, nothing serious.  You should count yourself lucky, kid.  Some people don’t come back from away missions at all.“

It was true.  There were a number of your colleagues that never made it back to the ship after being posted to the away team.  Still, at least they never made fools of themselves and lived to get ridiculed for it.  But that wasn’t a very nice thought to harbor in the back of your head as Dr. McCoy worked setting your bones.  He took his time, hands firm, but gentle, checking your pain levels from time to time.

"There, that should do it,” he finally announced, assisting you to an upright position and slipping a brace over your arm.  "You are gonna have to be on light duty for a while, but so long as you take it easy you should be all healed up in no time.“

"Thanks, doc,” you nodded, though his care had not mended how hard you’d be kicking yourself for the rest of forever.  He seemed to notice your downtrodden demeanor, because after a moment he gave a gruff sigh and ordered “My office, now.”

You followed behind him, expecting another reprimand.  When the doors slid shut, he pointed out a chair to you and you dutifully sat across from him as instructed.  The surprise came when he reached down into an unseen drawer and produced two glasses and a decanter filled with a dark amber liquid.

“I’m no ship’s councilor, but you look like you could use a drink,” McCoy explained, sliding a tumbler over to you before pouring an inch of liquid in the bottom.  "And as your doctor, that’s about as much as I’m comfortable letting you have after all those pain killers I gave you.“

Eagerly, you picked up the smooth glass and took a sip as he poured himself a drink.  It burned over your tongue and down your throat, setting the most delicious fire to your stomach.  "Thank you, Doctor.”

He took a sip from his glass, leaning back in his chair comfortably.  "Now, I’m just an old sawbones, kid.  And there are better people to see to help you through whatever you’re feeling.  But you’ve caught me in a good mood, so anytime you need an ear and a few fingers of bourbon, let me know and we’ll work something out, alright?“

"That’s very kind of you,” you blinked, somewhat surprised.  "I thought sure you were going to lecture me on how stupid I was.“

"I don’t think anyone could kick you as hard as you seem to be kicking yourself,” McCoy said after another sip.

You smiled a little.  "You’re probably right, Doctor.“

"Leonard,” he corrected, raising his glass slightly.  "You sit in my chair, you drink my bourbon, you call me Leonard, deal?“

"Deal,” you nodded, grateful grin growing wider.

I don’t really talk about football or footballers anymore despite it’s still being my life but.. I hate seeing people calling Messi  just a talent. He is the most talented footballer I’ve ever seen but calling him like that is a disrespect to sacrifices he’s made. We are talking about a boy who was diagnosed with GHD at 11 and didn’t even cry as his doctor said, he only focused on getting better so he could still play football. Can you imagine the level of dedication and passion? A 11 years old boy giving himself daily injections, not letting anyone else do it, said his mother. He left his hometown, his country, his continent to find himself a place in a European club so that his family wouldn’t have to worry about paying for his expensive treatment. At the age of 12-13, unlike other La Masia kids, Leo had to work his ass off to earn his place, because, as one of his teammates from Class ‘87 said, he wasn’t from Spain and back then young players from other countries (not even continents) wasn’t something you could hear everyday. Some people from the board were so against the idea of him that they tried to destroy his contract and get rid of him. Think about it, a 13 years old boy fighting everyday to prove himself to the board, coaches, other players and literally everyone while dealing with homesickness and GHD, not being able to see his mother or brothers & sisters because he wants to stay, because he has to stay.

So, don’t you dare you to come here and tell me he is a talented player who didn’t have any need to work hard which makes his success less great because this is the only thing you will say about him that I will never accept. Hate him, call him names, think he’s overrated etc. I don’t care. But don’t disrespect a man’s, a boy’s actually, bravery, hard work and fight especially when it went in a way that can be an example for all of us. 

Fic: Poem Without Words (25/?) (M)

Author’s note: It’s Christmas! Okay, it’s not but in the story it is. Remember when I thought this story would be 13 chapters? How times change. Only 2 chapters left, so enjoy!

Also posted: FF.net / AO3

Chapter 25

“Do you see her yet?” Emma asked, standing on her toes. The crowd at the Heathrow arrivals gate was insane, two days before Christmas. Emma spoke to her mother before she got on the plane in Boston; she and Killian were in Oxford. One last stop before returning to London for the holiday. It had been an incredible week alone with her boyfriend, but she was excited to see her mother. And a little nervous. The prospect of having their families under the same roof was a bit daunting.

“Not yet,” Killian replied for the fifth time. He was taller than her, of course, not that it gave him much of an advantage in the throng. It hadn’t been this busy when they arrived nearly two weeks ago. Ah, the holidays.

“I hope there wasn’t a problem.”

“Board says her flight was on time, darling. Perhaps she’s still getting her bags?”

Emma squeezed his hand. “I’m sure you’re right. I’m just…”

“Nervous?” Killian chuckled. “Now why ever would you be nervous?”

“It’s a big deal…our families spending the holiday together. Isn’t it?”

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