anonymous asked:

I've seen people are talking about periods, so I have 2 cents to way in! When I was younger I got spend-a-week-in-bed type cramps, and just dealt with it for years. But I did eventually go to my doctor, and he put me on mefenamic acid and tranexamic acid, which are magic drugs that more people should know about.

That sounds scary but cool


Prompt: I got a wonderful prompt from @previouslyonfanwars but I decided not to answer through the ask because I want you guys to be surprised a little bit. The gist of it though is that this is set before 12x01, when Owen and Amelia are still friends. And someone takes Viagra instead of painkillers, because dammit interns. And that someone needs help. And I’ll let you all figure out the rest :D

P.S: In a way, I guess you could also forgive me for not updating Reason no. 2, yeah? Also, it’s not proofread because… I don’t know who to ask to beta these. So if there are volunteers for these, let me know. Lol.

Warning: Well, I mean really, the title. It’s not like I’m going to talk about the sanctity of anything with this.

He had asked for mefenamic acid. Panadol. Biogesic. Ponstan. He could list a thousand more common brand names and pharmaceutical terms to describe the medication, but this was just unbelievable. Even someone without much medical background could identify Panadol in a room full of pills. It wasn’t that hard, really. You told your doctor you had a headache, and he gave you a pain killer for it. Simple. (He could also think of a list of other things that could cause headaches on a person eventually leading to death, but that was a whole other ball game).

The point was that he could not, for the life of him, explain how Cross could have been able to mix up the prescriptions. It was as simple as picking up the right set of pills and handing them over to him. He knew the kid had a lot to learn, but he’d expected more than this.

I mean really, who confuses Panadol with Viagra, anyway?

So here he was hiding in the examination room, lying on the bed with an ice pack, trying to wait out the effects. And they had some serious effects, these things. Making sure that he had not overdosed after checking the labels on the tray, he figured he had around 4 hours to kill, 3 if the ice worked. The last time he’d had to remember how to get rid of an unwanted erection fast was way back during his residency days, and that was only to treat another patient. The process involved needles sticking onto his package, which he’d rather not do. The last time he had to kill an unfortunate erection for himself on the other hand… Well, let’s just say he hadn’t had the need to resort to needles for those to disappear.

Checking his phone, there was already another consult lined up. He’d only told Kepner he had an “emergency” and asked her to take over, but he couldn’t keep on delegating his work to her. Soon enough, things would get too busy in the pit, and she would need his help. Besides, this situation was getting more and more ridiculous the longer he stayed here hiding.

Taking a leap of faith, he finally threw out a message in a bottle out there to anyone who would answer his 911 page. This situation couldn’t get any worse, right?

Wrong. A couple minutes later, the door to the examination room opened.

“Someone paged 911?” Amelia asked, a little out of breath as she came in. She’d answered his page at a run, tablet still at hand with fresh scans from another consult. “Where’s the patient? How bad is it?”.

His face blanched. Of all the people in the whole damn hospital, it had to be her. He almost didn’t knot know what to do with himself – Hide? Make an excuse? Run? Make a crack on the floor so that the earth could swallow him whole? He desperately wanted the last option to come true. With almost ninja-speed, he turned himself over on to the other side, using his lab coat to cover some of the lower geographical areas.

“A-Amelia. Uh, w-what are you doing here?” he stammered out to her while facing the wall.

“There was a page, so I came,” she answered. Amelia tilted her head, slightly weirded out by the situation. “So what do we have here?”

If he could’ve hit himself over the head and given himself a concussion, he would’ve. At least that way, Amelia would have something else to examine that did not involve his genitalia. There were far more suitable circumstances in which he’d pictured her with his penis, and this was not one of them.

“Uh, nothing actually, false emergency!” he lied. This could not be more embarrassing if he tried. 

“Really? Owen…?” she asked, her tone now with a hint of worry. He could hear her steps as she came over to him and he practically jumped half a meter away from her.

“Don’t, Amelia. Stop!” he exclaimed, one hand holding his labcoat in a bizarre way, the other in front of him like she was about to butcher him with a knife. He tried to walk away from her as best he could without inflicting too much pain on his genital area, while she followed him around. 

“Owen, seriously, stop moving. What are you doing?” her face amused at the game he was playing. She was practically chasing him around the bed. Owen kept his lab coat up front all the while, allowing some space between the fabric and his proud erection, elluding her all over the room.

“Please don’t come any closer. Just… Stay there… Please?” he begged her, flinching at the fact that the effort he was making while standing up was making his member much more unconmfortable.

Looking down at his awkward stance, Amelia’s face brightened up in realization. “You’re the patient!” she exclaimed.

“Yes, I am the patient.”

“Hah!” Amelia blurted out in triumph at figuring it out. “I knew it! Okay then, Mr. Hunt, I will be your doctor today, so please lie down so that I can properly examine you,“ she smiled, taking in the tone of a jolly good doctor.

“Uh, I’d rather not?” he countered. He would be more amused at her playfulness, but he was dying of shame right now. “I think we need to call someone else.”

“What, you don’t believe in my skills as a doctor?”

“No, no, it’s not that! I didn’t say that. I mean… It’s just that… I’d rather it not be you. You’re probably going to laugh at this and it’s already embarrassing enough,” he admitted to her.

“Oh hey, come on! I swear I won’t laugh! Besides, we’re friends and I can totally keep a secret!” she said, persuading him. The skepticism on his face didn’t leave though so she tried a bit more. “Also, I am a professional doctor! What more do you need? Completely professional. I’m the picture of professionality.”

“I don’t think professionality is even a word,” he called out, trying to divert the already inevitable situation somewhere else.

She arched an eyebrow and gave him a stern look, obviously pointing out that his attempts were futile. Sighing in resignation, he nodded and opened up his lab coat to uncover the front of his pants. The horizontal tent his penis had made had not even lessened in length at all.

Amelia’s eyes almost bulged out of their sockets when she saw.


“Wow?” he chuckled. The very male ego part of him was proud she found this impressive. The previous playfulness in her face was suddenly replaced with something else.

She blushed, realizing she’d just practically been gawking at his erection. This was definitely not what she had been thinking about when he said embarrassing (maybe a rash?). But this was… This was… All she could think of was that he was big. Bigger than she had remembered from a year ago. Not that he hadn’t been big back then, but seeing it all now, in it’s full-blown glory, well… It brought back memories. The heat on her face was probably giving it all away, but she cleared her throat trying to have some semblance of the professionality she’d been boasting about before. 

“Amelia?” he called her name, snapping her out of her reverie.

“Oh right! Yes… Uh, okay!” she yelped, a little startled. Moving around to get closer, she set up the tablet to get ready for the consult, “Lie down…?”

He grinned, and did as instructed. Seeing her blush this furiously was actually making the whole situation a little worth the embarrassment. 

“So, h-how long has this… um, it… been going?” she asked. What was wrong with her? What even was that question? “It”? She was turning into such a complete idiot, she couldn’t even say penis properly.

“About one hour now, I guess,” he said looking at the clock. 

“… and I assume this was due to…” 

“An intern mixing up viagra with painkillers,” he stated.

Looking up from the tablet, she shared a brief moment of amusement for the situation with him. Whoever had done this would be doing scut for the rest of his internship. Trying to concentrate on the medical aspect of this though, she desperately tried to avert her eyes from his groin. But to be honest, the last time she remembered his penis being this big had been when she had been riding it to absolution on his trailer bed. The memories flashing through her head pumped a little bit more blood to her already beet-red face, and increased the pooling heat between her legs. 

Going back to the assessment, she finished every single work up she could possibly think of, and taking into account any of the alternate actions he may have taken (bag of ice included), without asking him to physically remove his pants yet. Five minutes later, there wasn’t really any other choice.

“W-well, I guess, I just need to check one last thing before I decide exactly on what to do here…”

Knowing this of course, he lifted up his hips to pull his pants and his boxers down. His salute was proud and tall, and it didn’t look like it was going down any time soon. For a moment, the doctor within Amelia took over and reached out to touch him and examine the specimen further, looking for any signs of unusual swelling or ruptured veins. Swirling her dainty fingers around him and moving it slightly to the side, she did not notice the silent hissing sounds Owen had started to make with every move she made. She was brushing him gently with just the tips of her fingers around the base of his shaft, moving the softness of her touch up to right under the head of his cock. Each brush of skin against skin, like a whisper on his shaft, echoed heat throughout his body. It was so faint, he almost thought she was doing it on purpose to torture him. The movements had sent his eyes rolling to the back of his head, making his breathing a little heavier. She probably didn’t know what she was even doing to him, but it was all Owen could do not to move and stay still. Amelia was oblivious to any of these things as she fully concentrated on her check up, but when her nails accidentally scratched him in the lightest of ways, Owen’s silent resolve to keep still was broken. He eventually let out the most guttural moan, hips bucking lightly against her hand.

Amelia was startled by the sound, whipping her head to face him. The scene had his head tilted back, facing up at the ceiling, eyes closed in pleasure. He was so lost in the feeling he did not realize Amelia had suddenly taken on a completely different demeanour. She was now applying slight pleasure to her touch, not by accident anymore but with purpose. Her thumb and forefinger slid up and down his length slowly but intently, adding one finger with every slight downward motion. The viagra had made everything more sensitive, and her soft ministrations were affecting him more than the usual. Soon after a few more pumps, her fingers were joined by the palm of her hand, fully engulfing him in warmth. She used the little drops of pre-cum that had escaped the tip of his cock to spread all over his length and add to the slippery heat of her hand. At this point, she had managed to secure a slow and steady rhythm.

Owen who had been thoroughly enjoying this so far suddenly realized the fact that he was enjoying something. The thought brought him back down to reality, and opened his eyes to see Amelia’s face looking intently at him and her hand working up and down his length. She was not supposed to be doing this.

“Oh god, Amelia…” he brought his hand over to hers, trying to still her movements. “Stop, you’re going to–”

She squeezed him slightly, speeding up her pace, effectively cutting him off through another groan she got from him. He couldn’t believe it. It wasn’t that he didn’t like it (if he could, he would practically beg her never to stop), but he cared a lot more for her than just this. He hadn’t even told her how much yet. Her movements though, she was making it so much more difficult for him to think.

Amelia was determined to see the whole thing through, the friction coming from the motion on that single part of his body, spreading to the rest of his extremities. Knowing that she knew exactly what she was doing to him confused Owen, but also turned him on even more. He didn’t know what they were yet exactly, but the way she was looking at him right now, with all the intensity of her darkened blue eyes made him realize he couldn’t think about anything else. At this point, all he knew was that he was at her mercy and that he was willing to let go any little self-control he had left, by thrusting in synch to her rapid pumping. His grip on her wrist became impossibly tight, and she figured she would probably have a bruise there later, but she didn’t care right now. Knowing she was giving him immense pleasure was turning her on so much, her own panties were soaked.

Sweat breaking across his brow, his breathing erratic and his other hand on a fist digging hard on the mattress, she knew he was close. Bringing it up a notch, Amelia decided to add a little twist to her movements as she pumped him down. Owen’s eyes widened up at the sudden change, earning her another groan. She felt a little sense pride knowing that she could do these things to him and worked him up even harder. The light squeezing and twisting, her hands coming down hard on him every time - the whole ensemble was getting a little bit too much for him to handle. He didn’t think it could get even better until it did.  He knew that at the rate they were going, he wasn’t going to last very long.

“Amelia! Stop, I’m going to–” he gasped between breaths. 

Instead of stopping, she quickened the pace even more and with a few more pumps, he uttered the deepest groan, the pleasure of his orgasm making him reach out to her as strings of white come came shooting all over the place. Amelia kept her movements going throughout his high only slowing down when he finished riding it out.

Owen slumped back on the examination bed, out of breath. He couldn’t believe what had just happened. 

“Amelia…” he called out to her again in his blissful exhaustion. “That was…”

“…effective?” she said, grinning at him. Apparently, he was never going to finish any of his sentences today. Following her gaze, he noticed his penis had finally taken a rest and deflated after all their activities. She wasn’t wrong, he had to give her that. The satisfaction he felt was like finally falling off onto a bed of clouds after being on the edge for days. 

“No. Amazing,” he smiled sheepishly. She was amazing.

“Well you know, just glad I could help,” Amelia laughed. Standing up, she walked around the bed intending to grab some of the towels to start cleaning up the mess they’d made. The movement made her hips squirm with how wet she was down there and she had to stop for a bit to adjust herself underneath the scrub bottoms.

Owen watched all the while, and noticed her squirming.

“I think you’re the one who needs a little help now,” he grinned, knowing full well what he could do to make her feel better.

When I turned 16 what was supposed to be a euphemism for a casual inconvenience became a dreaded dark period repeated each month. “That time of the month” meant a hellish 7-8 days, steeped in excruciating pain, heavy menses, headaches, diarrhea, vomiting and the sensation that my abdomen was literally leaving my body with as much force as possible. I thought this was normal; the doctors I saw at the time merely prescribed brufen for 2 days, and reminded me that this is normal. But as I grew older, my menses got worse, lasting longer and longer, till by the time I was 18, I was bleeding 14 days of each cycle, and spotting in between. Still, I was told this is normal.
When in University, I once walked out of class, thinking that I would just vomit, hoping to make it to the bathroom but I collapsed right outside the classroom, and my clothes immediately got blood soaked. I ended up in hospital that day, with a burst cyst. The doctor told me I had an “abnormal” fundus – at the time he did not diagnose Endometriosis despite my history.

By 20, I had a normal pregnancy and delivery, and I thought that this would mean the end of the excruciating pain, the irregular periods the nightmare of all the accompanying symptoms. Instead, my condition got worse, with symptoms now occurring daily, the pain coming consistently and peaking to unbearable levels during my periods. In 2007, I finally got diagnosed with endometriosis – actually, the doctor was hazarding a guess since endometriosis doesn’t easily get spotted on an Ultra sound. Rather he noted that the “abnormal fundus” was adenomyosis, a form of endometriosis where the disease spreads into the muscles of the uterine wall. By this time, I had already begun taking pain killers on a daily basis, and slowly developed tolerance. I went from popping one or two ponstan (mefenamic acid) to doing 4 pills at a go just to get relief for a few hours. The psychological effects of the nausea, headaches, excruciating pain and being told “its normal” was costing me sleep, insomnia and anxiety became a part of my life.

By 2013, my condition had vastly deteriorated – I was bleeding continuously, and taking several pain killers combining drugs such as tramadol, ponstan, buscopan – anything to relieve the pain. I was trying drugs like danazol and a gonadotrophin inhibitor, I did thyroid tests as well, having been told that the condition could be as a result of a thyroid malfunction or something.
I got no comfort from the doctors – as the endometrial implants spread into my intestines, they caused severe discomfort, and one OB-GYN even suggesting I see a physician for my stomach complaints. I got sicker, and sicker, so anemic that I was dizzy at work. Slowly, the condition affected my ability to walk, sit or even carry my laptop on my back. Psychologically, this condition sunk me behind a thin wall of depression, and my world view was consistently through a veil of extreme pain. I was trying my best to cope, trying my best to be a “normal” 30 something. I tried dating, but couldn’t stand the idea of sex, the pain and the sickness that accompanies sexual activity is totally off-putting. I avoided hanging out with people, stopped going out to social gatherings because it just hurt to put up appearances and to keep trying to push the agony to the back of my mind. Besides, I was getting easily aggravated, and hid my tiredness behind sarcasm, and sometimes I just snapped at people coz the pain would overwhelm me. I felt, and I still feel, that people have no idea what one day of endometriosis is like, and how bad the pain can get.

My doctor finally told me that the only recourse would be to have a hysterectomy to bring an end to all the symptoms and ease the condition. So in August 2013, I had a hysterectomy, removing uterus and cervix but retaining the ovaries. I thought this is the end of my suffering, the end of the consistent pain. But instead, I found that I never fully recovered from the surgery, and steadily the pain returned, now spread all over my pelvic region, shooting down to my feet and escalating during my cycle.

Last year I changed doctors again, after reaching a point where none of the drugs I was using were working and being incredibly ill for weeks on end. My new doctor went through my medical history and then he candidly informed me that a hysterectomy was unlikely to work in the case of endometriosis. I lost my womb, and that surgery didn’t work.

I am not really grieved over that particular loss, what grieves me is the years of suffering I have endured and the pain I continue to endure and the coupled expectation to function normally when every step I take is painful. My doctor tells me that I will likely need extensive laparoscopic surgery in my pelvic region, because the disease has now progressed to become deeply infiltrating endometriosis. This means that there are nodules and implants all over my pelvic region affecting my vagina, bladder, rectal area, intestines and possibly affecting my sciatic nerve which is why I have pain walking.

I read about women in other parts of the world and their experiences with this condition, and it’s shocking to find out that my case is neither unique in its mis-management nor the unnecessary surgery. It’s also not unique that women around the world are expected to function normally despite such severe symptoms, and it is not unique that doctors will be more concerned about my “possible addiction to pain killers” rather than a pain management regime.
I have help now, and I have decent medication, although it’s very expensive coming to about 15-20 thousand per month. I have support from my family and from friends in this, and I hope Insha’Allah to soon have enough resources to do the laparoscopic surgery.

But I also know that so many women out there are going through a similar hell and because this disease isn’t visible they look fine, but are far from fine. I think for me, it would be a great step if society stopped dismissing women’s reproductive problems and stop dismissing women’s pain. It’s not normal to bleed for months on end, or to live in excruciating pain, to vomit and have diarrhea and recurrent headaches. It’s not normal to be sick during your periods. Being in pain is not a normal part of womanhood, and ignoring disease just leads to deterioration of the person’s condition and quality of life.