missing sleep for the last 24 hours or so

anonymous asked:

how would severe sleep deprivation manifest? Like, if a character was continuously woken up every time they tried to sleep, or given a chemical that makes it so that they can't fall asleep?

It depends on how long they’re kept awake.

Missing a single night of sleep can result in mood swings and a marked drop in alertness. On a physical scale, you get muscle cramps, headaches, lightheadedness, and nausea.  24 hours of wakefulness can lead to cognitive impairments on par with being drunk.

After a few days, the fun really starts. You can begin to experience “microsleeps”, which are short periods of sudden sleep lasting just a few seconds at a time. During these, you can remain sitting or standing, but your awareness blinks out.

Your oxygen intake is also lessened, which limits your athletic potential and coordination.

Prolonged sleep deprivation can even cause symptoms of psychosis, hallucinations, paranoia, etc.

– August

I’m a paramedic, but nobody taught me how to sit an 86 year old gentleman down to tell him his wife of 65 years has died in her sleep. Nobody taught me how to watch as the desire for life leaves his eyes the moment I break the earth shattering news that would change his life forever.

Nobody taught me how to accept a torrent of abuse from a complete stranger, just because they have been drinking all day and want a lift home.

Nobody taught me how to reason with the aggressive patient I’ve just met; overdosed, but needing my help to breathe.

Nobody taught me how to talk to someone so depressed that they have just slit their own wrists, panicked and called for help. Nobody taught me how to respond when they turned to me and said “I can’t even get suicide right”.

Nobody taught me how to bite my tongue when I went 2 hours over my finish time for someone who’d been ‘generally unwell’ for 24 hours.

Nobody taught me how to accept that I would miss out on things other people take for granted; birthdays, Christmas day, meals at normal times of the day, sleep.

Nobody taught me how to hold hands with a dying person as they take their last breath, how to hold back the tears because it’s not my grief.

Nobody taught be how to keep a straight face whilst a young man explains exactly what happened to the end of his hoover.

Nobody taught me how to act when a patient pulls a knife on me.

Being a paramedic is so much more than swooping in and saving lives; it’s about dealing with the most unique, challenging experiences and just going home at the end of the shift, being asked ‘how was your day’ and replying ‘fine thanks’.

Being a paramedic is about constantly giving a bit of yourself to every patient, because although it’s our 5th patient of the day and we can’t remember their name it’s their first ambulance, their loved one, their experience.

It’s about the bits that nobody taught me how…

It’s about providing pain relief and reassurance to a 90 year old lady who’s fallen and hurt her hip, and despite all the pain she turns and says “Thank you, how are you?”.

It’s about a hug that you give someone on Christmas Day because they haven’t spoken to anyone for days, they have no relatives or companions but you’ve brightened up their day.

It’s about climbing in the car next to someone and saying ‘Don’t worry, we’ll have you out of here in just a moment’

It’s about everything that we do that the media doesn’t publicize,

It’s about knowing that we couldn’t attend to the dying man because we were dealing with a drunk… who then assaulted one of us.

I’m a Paramedic, But Nobody Taught Me How…

—  Julia Cornah
Request: Complain

Request: Bodyswap fic with one of the boys? Uvu

Word Count: 736

I have a Sam bodyswap fic that you can find here, too! Thanks, I hope you like it!<33

“For God’s sake, Dean, stop grabbing my boobs!”

“Sorry.” He retracts his hands quickly, “They’re just so… soft.”

“Grow your own if you want some to grope.” You snap, throwing the book to the side, “I’m sick of this.”

“Boobs help.”

Dean!” You hiss, glaring at him… well, yourself.

It wasn’t strictly supposed to go like this. In fact, it couldn’t have gone much worse. You and Dean went in, intending to get the witch killed before lunch. It was going great until you shot at her head, but she deflected it just enough that it hit her neck. Rather than killing her instantly, she had enough time to mutter some inaudible Latin. Before you could figure out what it meant, you were taller and broader and… in Dean’s body.

It was funny at first, this whole body swap thing. You were both clumsy and useless – you kept hitting your head while he couldn’t reach anything. He didn’t have a clue how to get a bra on, for a change. But at this point, you just want your body back and for crying out loud, he won’t leave your boobs alone!

“Dean!” You snap, “Focus!”

“You can’t stop me.” He grins mischievously. It’s so strange watching yourself do that, and you make a mental note never ever to pull that face.

“Honey, I’m in your body,” You flash him a shit-eating grin, “I can do whatever I want to this meatsack.”

He regards you with a mixture of fear and awe, before nodding.


He removes his hands from your chest and goes back to reading up on curses. Sam, on the other hand, is too busy laughing. You glare at him.

“Shut up.” You hiss, and he holds his hands up in mock surrender.

“Sorry. It’s just funny watching Dean throw a tantrum. I mean… his body.”

“It won’t be a tantrum he’s throwing in a minute,” You mutter, looking at the case of throwing knifes resting against a wall.

You don’t mean to be so grumpy. You just… you want your body back. You even find yourself longing for all of the little things that annoyed you in the past – that piece of hair that never lies right and the stretch marks on your skin.

Dean feels the same, though. He can’t be bothered with your body – mostly because he just doesn’t understand it. How do you keep your hands so soft when you handle as many weapons as you do, and how do you smell so nice, even when you’re constantly running around killing things. He just doesn’t get it.

It’s nearly an hour later when Sam finds something – but it’s hardly the news you were looking for.

“It says it should only last about 24 hours.” The younger Winchester explains, and you groan, before realising…

It was about this time yesterday you killed the witch.

You could get your body back any minute now!

You laugh, “Finally!” Standing up, you push the chair away from the table, stretching yours… well, Dean’s legs. Dean grins, standing up too.

“I’ll miss your body. Kinda.”

“You’ll miss my boobs.”

He pauses, before shrugging, “Pretty much. But they’re so annoying when I’m trying to sleep, it’s like…” He groans, “Hey, let’s lie – no, wait, there’s a boob in my face! And don’t get me started on that bra, I bet yours is just really hard to do.”

You listen to him complain good-naturedly – all things you’ve thought in the past. In fact, you’re in such an improved mood that you barely notice when the complaints are suddenly coming from…

“Dean!” You yell over him, rejoicing at hearing your own voice, “It’s me! It’s you!”

There’s a gasp from Dean and he grins, overjoyed to be back in his roughened but familiar body. You, on the other hand, are so happy that you fling your arms around his neck and kiss his cheek, before sauntering off down the hall yelling something about taking a shower because you feel weird. Dean, meanwhile, just stares after you, transfixed.

“Dean?” Sam asks after a solid minute of Dean staring down the now empty corridor. The elder Winchester turns to him slowly.


“Are you okay?”



“I think I’m in love.”