she's in surgery right now

Serious post time.

If you’ve been following me for a while, you know I’m an absolute mama’s boy. My mom is absolutely fantastic, incredibly supportive, and means the entire world to me.

Well my mom has a really rare form of liver cancer that’s untreatable by regular means, and right now she’s getting prepped for surgery that she’ll have tomorrow. They’re going to basically scoop out all the tumors, and reshape her entire liver.

This has happened before. She’s had this surgery before from the exact same doctor, and it went perfectly. Like I said, the cancer she has is untreatable by regular means, but the surgery she’s having basically turns the clock back on it by 10 years, and she had the surgery 10 years ago. My mom is an incredibly strong woman, she’s so resilient and willful that I’m positive that she’ll be fine.

But, you know. She’s still my mom, and I’m still worried about her.

Everything is covered, this isn’t one of those posts about “if we don’t get x amount of money raised by y day then etc”. We’re all good.

But hey, maybe just keep the REAL Goat Mom in your thoughts, you know? If you’re religious, maybe pray for her, I know I will be.

That’s all. Thanks guys.

anonymous asked:

WRITE PART TWO TO THE CAR ACCIDENT FIC IM DYING

I don’t know how much of this is accurate, but I tried.


Jughead slowly opened his eyes, disoriented.

He spotted Archie and Fred Andrews sitting in chairs by the wall. Archie’s head was in his hands and Fred was staring at the ground.

Jughead tried to clear his throat to get their attention. His whole body felt heavy, as if something was tying him down to the bed.

“Where’s Betty?” He whispered. His voice sounded hoarse, his throat raw.

Archie’s head popped up at the sound, letting out a sigh of relief. “Christ, Jug, you scared us.”

“Where’s Betty?” Jughead asked again, not giving the slightest thought about his well being.

Archie looked down, then scratched the back of his ear. “She’s uh-“

“Just tell me, Archie, what did I do?” Jughead rasped.

“She’s in surgery right now, Jug. She was on the impacted side of the car, so it was worse for her.”

Jughead bit the inside of his cheek, choking down a scream. “She’s going to hate me. She’s going to hate me, Archie, what have I done?”

Archie shook his head, placing a hand on his shoulder. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“I almost killed her, Archie, she’s… she’s, I-“ Jughead’s vision started to blur at the corner of his eyes. He felt short of breath, trying to gulp in air. He started to tremble. “I-“

“Jughead? Are you okay, what’s happening?”

Fred stood up from the chair, looking at Jughead’s shallow breathing, his paleness. “I think he’s having a panic attack.”

“Jughead, breathe, it’s okay.”

Jughead shook his head, tears leaking out each eye.  

Fred took Jughead’s hand. “Jughead, breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe with me. In. Out. Your dad is going to be here any minute.” Fred said, trying to distract him. “You’re in control, Jug.” Fred reminded him, trying to put him at ease. “Breathe, in. Out.”

Jughead felt marginally better. “What happened to Betty?”

“She has some internal bleeding, Jughead.” Fred started. “She has a couple broken ribs, a broken wrist. As long as they get the bleeding under control, she’ll be okay.”

Jughead nodded, feeling the pain in his chest.

“And you?” Archie said, as if reading his thoughts. “Severe bruising on your chest from the steering wheel, you got stitches in your head from the roll over. You’ve got some cuts on your face. A broken toe. You’re not in bad shape, dude.” Archie said, trying to lighten Jughead’s mood.

“I almost killed her on our first date.” Jughead said, tearing up again.

Archie shook his head. “The truck that hit you ran a red light. He was looking at his phone.” Archie gently squeezed Jughead’s shoulder once again. “Like I said, dude, not your fault.”

“I still should’ve been paying better attention.” Jughead murmured as the Doctor walked into the room.

“You’re awake!” He said seriously. “How are you feeling, Mr. Jones?”

“Like I got hit by a truck,” Jughead deadpanned. “When is Elizabeth Cooper going to be out of surgery?”

“Hopefully soon. Good thing you two were wearing your seatbelts.” The Doctor gave a half smile, looked at Jughead’s chart, then left the room.


Hours later, after Jughead finally convinced the Andrews men to leave the room and eat something, after his routine check-up by a nurse, Jughead gingerly swung a leg off the bed.

It felt like it was weighed down by bricks. His muscles were killing him.

He took another breath and swung the other leg over. He checked his hospital gown, making sure it was tied in the back, then grabbed his fluids and lead it out of the room.

There wasn’t anybody at the nurses station outside of his room. He walked around the desk to find a list of patients, hoping to find who he was looking for – no such luck.

He looked over his shoulder carefully, wincing, then wiggled the mouse attached to the computer, waking the screen.

A search bar immediately popped up. He typed in Cooper.

533

He mentally high-fived himself. They were on the same floor, a couple rooms apart.

He dragged his fluid carrier down the hall with him, looking for signs of nurses or Doctors to stop him.

He peered into her room. Betty was laying in the bed, face towards him. Her eyes were closed, cuts from the broken glass littering her face.  Blood was streaking her hair. He could tell the nurses had tried to clean her up, but she hadn’t had a shower or bath yet, obviously.

The blankets were pulled up to her neck, her broken arm slung over the top. It was freshly cast, bruises peering out the top.

Tears pricked Jughead’s eyes again as he walked towards her. He took a sharp breath, winced, then gently pushed the hair away from her face.

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry, Bets. I’m sorry. I don’t deserve you.”

He ran a hand down her cheek. “I’m so sorry.”

Betty’s eyes opened gently. “Hey you.” Her voice sounded hoarse, too.

“Oh, God, Betty. I’m so sorry.” Jughead murmured.

“Hey, stop.” Betty whispered. “It was the other driver. It had nothing to do with you.”

“But look at you. If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t be lying here.”

“Jughead, stop beating yourself up. I’ll be okay.”

“Betty –“

She cut him off. “Stop. I still had one of the best nights of my life, Jughead.”

Jughead looked down at the floor.

“Come here,” She whispered.

He lowered himself closer to him, then realized she wanted a kiss.

He gently placed one on her lips.

“Think they would let us share a room?” She murmured.

Jughead laughed, then winced. But it was worth the pain.

we all think that life is gonna take us till we’re 85 with a husband/wife and grandkids galore. but life holds no mercy. situations come without any warning. we can be 22, slammed by a rare form of cancer that has no survival rate. you never know. hold the ones you love extra tight, everyday. live like today is your last day because we really don’t have tomorrow promised.

Simple Accidents (Pt 2)

Part 1 here 

Jensen x Reader

Warnings: cussing, brief generic detailing about wounds

Word Count: 1,152

Y/H/C - your hair color

 “Can I help you?” A pretty blonde at the desk asked as soon as Jensen walked up.

 “Uh, yea. I’m looking for a girl. She was brought in a little bit ago. She’s got, uh, long Y/H/C hair, she’s kinda short.” He replied.

 “Okay, do you know her name?”

 “No.” Jensen wished he could be more help, but he didn’t know much about you. The receptionist furrowed her brows, typing away on the computer.

 “Well, we have a Jane Doe here matching your description and timeline.” She told him.

 “Can I see her? Is she okay?”

 “Right now, she’s in immediate surgery. I can’t give you any details regarding it, but if you’d like to wait, I’ll let you know as soon as she’s out. Shouldn’t take too long now.” She pointed to the waiting area. Jensen’s head hung slightly as he leaned against the counter. He licked his lips, rubbed his face, and tapped his fist on the ledge.

 “Thanks,” He turned, walking back to where Jared was sitting. Jared lifted his eye brows questioningly. Somewhere behind Jensen, a phone rang and he shook his head, sitting down in the empty chair.

Keep reading

This is Zyllah and her twin brother Samuel.
Zyllah fell out of 2 story attic window yesterday, and is now in El Paso (where she was life flighted). She had surgery last night, right now doctors are waiting to see what her brain will do. There is so much pressure, it’s crushing her membrane. Yes, her skull is fractured. The doctors don’t think she’ll make it.
PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PRAY FOR ZYLLAH RAZON. I usually hide children’s true identities, but this is CRITICAL.
Zyllah and Samuel are 20 months old. They are not 2 years old, not until February. This little girl means so much to my church family!

She was born with 3 holes in her heart, and I believe 2 of them have closed up. As you can see in the picture, Zyllah is smaller than her twin brother. PLEASE PRAY THAT ZYLLAH COMES HOME!!!


(Z-eye-La)

PLease spread the word!! Please reblog for support!!!! Thank you in advance!!

@hcndler

                    claire is going to be just fine,  mr. grady,  i assure you.  she couldn’t be in better hands.  she’s resting in post-op right now.  the surgery was a little bumpy,  but she was strong enough to get through it which is a very good sign for her recovery.  she will need some time to let her body heal and recover,  but she’s out of the woods,  which is the best that we can ask for right now.