palpate

u kno what the best part of the last darth vader scene was…when they focused on the door and it was dark and even though u knew u didn’t really know and then the metal crunches and u hold ur breath because u k n o w and then finally u hear the fucking inhaler go off and BOOM red lightsaber and u scream cause the rebels r dying, ur dying, ur dogs dying, and everyone else is dead

vader’s castle looks like a weird combination of a medieval prison, a steampunk rapunzel tower, and a dungeon. i’m sure the effect was intentional.

Dark Orchid: Palpater

“Blind red spiders with crown of fingers and long limbs frantically dancing, touching every bit of surface they cling to. Fingers tap, tap and wiggle, every touch is pain and ecstasy brewed into confused desire. These Palpaters try to walk as men, but broken limbs provide little stability. Do not let them touch you, as they obsess over the feeling of humanity and will molest every inch, even driving their fingers into every orifice just to feel the organs inside.”

@qadmonster

Cancer Comes in Threes, pt 1

Thursdays are the worst. Before I came to this office, Thursdays were calm and typically quiet. Now they’re the busiest day of the week. None of us can figure out why. Mondays and Fridays are notorious for being busy, but mine are manageable. But Thursdays. Oh Thursdays.

On one busy Thursday I had more annual physicals than I could handle. I need extra time for these visits because I’m twice as thorough as usual for these, but my office still hasn’t offered me adequate time for them. Thus I end up very behind on days when I have more than 4 or 5 physicals. 

This Thursday I saw a very pleasant elderly woman, the grandmother of one of my few friends in this tiny town. I went through the gamut of preventive care questions. She was pretty healthy considering her age. We moved on to the physical exam. 

With my patient reclined on the table, I began to palpate her abdomen. Immediately I realized there was a mass, and a big one at that. “Have you noticed this in your stomach?” I asked innocently. “Oh good you feel it too. I didn’t want to mention it because I wondered if I was just feeling things. Yeah, I noticed it for the first time about 2 weeks ago when I was in the bed. I guess it’s a tumor or something, right?”

“Um… well… it very well could be,” I responded gravely. On further questioning, she revealed that she really didn’t have any symptoms related to the mass other than a 5 lb weight gain over the past month. “My pants don’t quite fit,” she added, “but it doesn’t hurt or anything. My bowels are a little slower than usual but nothing too exciting.”

I estimated the mass to be 10x20cm. Probably an ovarian cancer, I decided to myself. I knew her prognosis was grim. I explained to her that it needed to be investigated quickly and that, yes, it very well could be a cancer of some sort. I wanted her prepared for the bad news that was sure to come.

The radiologist called me late that afternoon. “Your lady has a huge mass. It’s mostly fluid. It’s 12x18cm and looks like it’s coming from the ovary. Don’t see any signs of mets though. Lymph nodes look fine and the pleura is nice and thin.”

I brought my patient back in the next day to discuss the results. Expecting the worst, she brought her children along to hear the news. They weren’t shocked. Mom had prepared them too. I explained her CT results and was cautiously optimistic.

Three weeks later I saw my patient in follow up after she had had multiple appointments with the GYN Oncologist. She had an excellent prognosis. Despite its size, her mass was completely resected and there was no sign of spread. What is often a death sentence was just a small hiccup for her. She will make a complete recovery.

I Lub-Dub You!!!

Originally posted by mariechapuis

Happy Valentine’s Day, Palentine’s Day, Palpatine’s Day, Palpitations’ Day, and Palpation Day (if you know what I mean….)

And for those of you who think you’re single, think you’re alone, think the holiday is stupid, or who would rather just hide under the blanket until the lovey dovey stuff is over, I hear you, I feel you, and I have something very important to tell you.

I love you, and I hope your day gets better, and I hope you feel better, and I hope you know that doing whatever it is you need to do today to survive is a-okay and good. Self-care is self-love.

xoxo, Aunt Scripty

So re: the dairy AI thing, cows that are used to palpation/etc literally do not care, or at least the teaching herd didn’t. I took repro lab in undergrad and the students were more freaked out than the cows. Rectally palpating a cow is the weirdest sensation ever. I mean, you have a shoulder-length glove and lube all over it, but then you stick your arm up her rectum. And the cow does not care (usually). She might shift and push back a bit but they usually just kept doing what they were doing. 

Sometimes they will try to go to the bathroom while your hand is up there. It is the weirdest sensation ever because the rectum is contracting around your arm. First time it happened I nearly fell over with my arm stuck inside the cow (I am very short compared to a Holstein’s hip height, and I was on tiptoes at the time, trying to reach so I could press down through the rectal wall and figure out where the heck her ovaries were). Some people have the knack for doing that - AI tech is a good gig and I had several classmates who went on to pursue it. Me? I was just realizing that a career in bovine reproductive science was definitely not for me.

(AI tech was also a fairly common Halloween costume on campus in  the animal science department XD Overalls, barn boots, hair pulled back, and one of the big shoulder length gloves) 

treefrogie84  asked:

(You're the most relevant person in the ScriptX family for this, I think, but if you think it'd be better aimed at someone else, let me know and I'll ask them instead.) What does a snapped neck /feel/ like for whoever is checking the body (the coroner, the boyfriend who just woke up, whoever)? Like, I imagine that there's something NOT RIGHT about how it moves, but what sort of NOT RIGHT are we talking here?

Hey there! There are a couple of things you’re looking for when you palpate (feel) a spine. I’m assuming this is a post-mortem.

First, when bones are broken and you touch them, they tend to grind together a little bit, which can be felt by an outsider through the skin. This is a phenomenon called crepitus, and we would chart it as such: “Crepitus noted at C6 and C7 vertebrae”.

Now, when you say snapped, I’m not entirely sure what you’re talking about. A vertical “snapping”, basically a hyperextension of the neck? I assume you’re more talking about a hyperrotation issue that caused a spinal cord injury.

There would likely be some crepitus, and something we call “step-down”, where instead of being in a normal, natural progression, a bone is out of place and there’s, well, a step.

Ultimately it might feel “crunchy” under the skin, with pieces grinding against each other. An untrained person is pretty much just going to yank their hand back really quickly at that point. Even for pros, they may find it unpleasant and distasteful, but a necessary part of their job.

xoxo, Aunt Scripty

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blurry vision of people walking past me
sweat like droplets of condensed water forming on my forehead
the light has been flickering
all the silhouetted figures seem to be moving
with utmost uncertainty
intimated and hesitant glances being stolen
this place has been changing its hues
yet it’s all so drab
i ask them,
‘what is this place?
where are we heading to?’
none stopped
none bothered to answer
amidst the chaos
a ray of light casted itself
upon a pair of brown eyes
that possessed the ability
to palpate a soul
they spoke,
‘no one knows where they are going.’
'perhaps you can guide me.’
i reflect with utmost credulity.
'perhaps.’
i guess it took me too long
to realize that it was the wrong path
we walked through
and maybe because of these delusional eyes
of mine,
i ended up in an isolated land.
but how do i tell you
about the relief i perceived
when i had by my side a certain someone.

I am the son of what you do in the earth, son of my wounds
that have lit up the pomegranate blossoms in your closed-up gardens

Out of jasmine the night’s blood streams white. Your perfume,
my weakness and your secret, follows me like a snakebite. And your hair
is a tent of wind autumn in color. I walk along with speech
to the last of the words a bedouin told a pair of doves

I palpate you as a violin palpates the silk of the faraway time
and around me and you sprouts the grass of an ancient place—anew

—  Mahmoud Darwish, Sonnet V