Reblog if you promise to be there for Medblr/Nurblr/Rescublr
I Promise to be there if:
You’ve had a bad call
Its been a long shift
Your patient has taken a turn for the worse
The day is just not going your way
You feel like you could do better
For anything at all, even if its not work related
And especially for the good news and great days
Feel free to message me and I will be there to talk you through anything at all. Don’t bottle it up, and don’t let it eat you. We all chose this life for one reason or another. We all understand what its like to be at the lowest of lows and the highest highs. If you need a shoulder to lean on, I’ll be here.
Okay, guys. Here’s the deal. I have had too many fanfics and other stories just RUINED for me with terrible and painful inaccuracies having to do with basic medical processes and facts… and I just CAN’T anymore. Please, let me help you. PLEASE.
This is way too long, graphic at some points, and really, basically, please send me an ask if you want any basic info on what would happen in a certain situation.
A quick Sherlock fic request! Maybe something like you are Sherlock and John’s flatmate and Mycroft falls in love with your intelligence and you can actually make him laugh?
First Sight - Mycroft Holmes
“Holmes!” You called, taking the stairs two at a time as you raced up to flat 221b. “Holmes!”
“What?” Two voices, equally haughty sounding, responded and you stopped abruptly in the doorway.
You stood in the door, staring into the living room of the flat. It certainly wasn’t John’s voice that you heard, you would recognize that quip anywhere. You realized instead, the second voice belonged to the stranger. A tall man with ginger hair that looked a bit older than Sherlock. He was dressed in a suit and he stood across from Sherlock, both men turned toward you.
Pairings: Platonic!Steve Rogers x Reader, Platonic!Bucky Barnes x Reader, eventual Romantic!Bucky Barnes x Reader
Requested by @theloveofanauthor:
Imagine where the reader is someone Bucky and Steve both knew before Hydra and the ice. She’d helped Bucky save Steve’s life and now Hydra has her and has been experimenting and torturing her. She has powers, but can’t control them. I was thinking more set nowadays, like Hydra has been experimenting on her because her powers are Chameleon and she can transport herself places. Maybe SHIELD gets a whiff of a powered person and send them to save her. I’d like her to end up with Bucky.
Summary: Reader has a health scare and Loki is really sweet and accommodating about it. I changed it a bit, hope that’s okay!
Loki was locked up, and because of that, Odin was looking for any way in the world to further punish him, and the only thing in the world Loki cared about was you, so the God of God’s did what he did best, he hurt his son. “Tell him she is ill, Frigga, it is only right that he knows” Odin ordered, sending a very apprehensive women out of the throne room. You were ill, it was true, you were very sick and it was possible that something dire could have happened to you but it was only a scare, and you were expected to make a full recovery.
Odin had you under a guard detail to keep you away from Loki’s cell and had made double sure that you weren’t going anywhere near the man you loved any time soon. So it was pretty believable that you were deathly ill on Loki’s part, seeing as you hadn’t visited or even checked up on him. “Hello Loki” Frigga greeted in her normally kind voice but her eyes hid a lie that she knew would destroy him “I bring dreadful news” She says, taking a seat against the in window pane of his cell, electing a less than thrilled look from the man “What could possibly be so dreadful? Has Y/N made a mention of me yet?” He asks finding a segway to talk about you instead “Actually the news is about Y/N” his mother figure mutters, still not sure if she wants to do this to him or not, not that she ultimately has much of a choice.
“Well what is it?” He asks, getting immediately less patient “She’s taken ill, they’re worried she wont make it” She lies, watching the usual fire behind the mans eyes vanish in a moments time “But she will recover of course, there is no way she will not” he says, discarding his book to the side now in favor of the news “We do not know if she will recover, the guards fear the worst” She says, each moment killing her a little more “No, I won’t allow it, you must let me see her” He demands but it comes out more of a weak plea.
“You know I would but I cannot, your father-“ she starts but he’s already had enough “Odin is not my father” he speaks with a finality that shocks even Frigga “Leave me be” he says, with a wave of his hand and the women nods,bowing before taking her exit. She only wished she had missed the loud crashing that followed, that was inevitably all of his belongings smashing against the wall.
At first you didn’t know what was happening with Odin and the others, playing their sick game on the once prodigal son of Asgard. But eventually Thor couldn’t take it anymore, watching his brother lose his mind for no reason so he brought it to your attention. Of course you were furious, you had nearly made a full recovery and to see the man you loved so much in so much unnecessary pain only served to anger you more. “Lady Y/N, I know you must be angry but-“ Thor tries but there’s no sooting you now “Angry? NO my darling Thor, I am not angry, I’m furious” You yell, standing from your place hurriedly.
Thor tried to stop you as you walked down the halls quickly, pushing past any guard that tried to stand in your way until you got the the door of the farthest floor, where they kept the prisoners, the baddest of bad. “Move” You yell, staring daggers at the man “I cant do that” He sighs, clearly inconvenienced “I told you to” You reason and he shrugs as if that held no meaning.
“Regardless of his current position, I am to be the wife of Loki Laufeyson and I expect to be treated as such” You groan, getting up in the mans space as an act of intimidation “Now you will move” The nameless guard seemed to want no part of your fury so he moved to the side with not even a breath.
While Loki had lost most of his social standing in Asgard, you still held all of yours and you were fully prepared to use it, and like in most things, your appearance helped a lot, in Asgard women were meant to be more strong then dainty although your plush but reliable frame was a toxic mix of both. You moved quickly through the dark hall until you were in front of Loki’s cell, and you let out a gasp at his appearance, his hair was in shambles, his room was trashed, his feet were cut and bleeding and he looked more sickly than any corpse you had ever seen.
“Oh Gods, Loki? It’s me, please” You mutter, tears finding your eyes immediately when he met them “Y/N, no it’s impossible, you’re dead” He mumbles, running his hands through his hair “I’m not, I’m here, it’s me” you assure, your hand reaching toward the shield only to be kept back due to the magnetic field “You’re real?” He asks in a weak voice “I’m real Loki, and I’m not going anywhere.”
Today I woke up feeling like I had a hangover. I’m starting my 4 day break from the ICU, after working 6 of the last 8 days. I drug myself down the stairs and starting cleaning house as I normally do on my days off. I glanced at myself in the mirror at the bottom of my stair case. Horror. My face blatantly shows the pure exhaustion that I feel, and my hair looks a complete mess. “Thank god I’m off work today and my patients won’t have to see this worn out version of myself” is my first thought.
People who aren’t nurses always tell me, “You only work three days a week? Wow! That must be great. I wish I had your schedule!” ..Only three days a week? ONLY!? I wake up at 4:30AM, shake off my fatigue, drive an hour to work, and then begin my scheduled 12 hour shift. 12 often turns into 13 hours or even more depending on the patient load and if I were able to keep up with my charting. When I’m done and finally clock out, I drive home arriving around 8PM, where I strip out of my scrubs and collapse onto the couch where I snuggle my cats and tell my husband about my day until I pass out from exhaustion. I slip upstairs to bed, to the disbelief of my husband that I could possibly be so tired, and I set my alarm and prepare for my next shift.
ONLY 36 hours a week. But does anyone who’s not a nurse know what those 36 hours consist of? Juggling all my nursing tasks for each individual patient while also trying to communicate with the doctors, pharmacists, respiratory therapists, PT, OT, social work, our aides, the patients themselves, and their families?! Yes, that’s right, I communicate with all of these people on a daily basis. I am personal coordinator for my patients. I am their voice, their advocate. I must be aware of my patients needs at all times. Room 101 is going up stairs to cath lab at 0900. 102 wants their pain medicine at 0915. 103 needs to be turned at 0930. Got it. My mental check list is a never ending dynamic that I must prioritize and rearrange constantly.
My job is scary. Always thinking, always analyzing, ALWAYS aware of my actions. I could cause a patient to lose their life if I am not critically thinking about everything that I do and every medication that I give. Is this dosage appropriate, does this patient need this medication? It is all my responsibility to keep the patient safe.
Even when I am doing everything that I can it isn’t always enough. I’ve had family members displeased that I took a little longer to answer a call light. I’m sorry that I couldn’t get you a coke right away, I was busy titrating a lifesaving medication in the room right next to yours. I have been asked by a family member if I were qualified to even be a nurse, surely I was too young for that. I have been told that I am too weak to help lift a patient when in reality I can lift more weight that I weigh. Nursing is hard. I take all these comments and offer a kind response to remain professional even though it can make me feel really small at times. Not feeling appreciated is hard when all I am trying to do is help.
I have been there when a patient said their lasts words before being intubated and never being able to come off of the vent. I have been there as a patient has taken their last breaths on the earth. I have been there when a patient has decided that their body can no longer fight, and they would like to receive comfort care. I have provided comfort care as family members are silent, with tears streaming down their faces, as I turn the lifeless body of their once resilient family member. I have been there when a doctor has told a healthy, active patient in front of their spouse that they have stage 4 cancer, and will not survive. I have stood and held my tears to remain strong for family members who have had their hearts shattered by the news that their loved ones will not be coming home again. I have sobbed on my way home from work because my heart is shattered too. I am so sorry that you have to go through these things. I am so sorry that your loved one has cancer. I am so sorry that myself and the doctors couldn’t get your loved one to wake back up after being sedated on the ventilator. Nursing is hard. I am human. I care about my patients. How could I not? My heart breaks along with my patients and their family members. Then I go home and try to pretend that I have not been broken during my shift. I don’t want to burden my husband with my sadness, and I need to pull it together so I can go back to work in the morning and do it again.
So how do I do it? How do all nurses do it? How do we manage ONLY 36 hours a week? Because nursing is beautiful. I have been there as a scared patient on a ventilator has woken up so I held her hand and told her that everything would be okay. She could not speak as she had a lifesaving breathing tube down her throat. Somehow she managed to grasp a pen with her weak hands and wrote “I love you guys.” My heart exploded with joy. I have provided comfort to someone when they were far from comfortable. I have been there when a patient has come off of a ventilator after being on it for a week, and watched as they cried and said they were so happy to be alive. I helped bring that person relief. I have bought lip gloss for an elderly patient whose son forgot to bring in her lipstick. The smile on her done up face was priceless as she put on the lip gloss to complete her look. I have made a patient genuinely happy even though she is sick and in the critical care unit. I have been there providing comfort care to a dying loved one and family members have hugged me and thanked me for being the angel that their family member needs. Nursing is beautiful. Life is beautiful. I watch lives change, I watched lives end, and I watch lives get a second chance because of the care and medicine that I have provided.
Nursing is hard. Nursing is stressful. Nursing is exhausting. It drains me both physically and mentally. I come home tired, sweaty, and defeated. Not all days are good days. Nursing is not all sunshine and rainbows. But nursing is my life. I dedicate my life to saving the lives of others. Those break through moments when a patient miraculously recovers, when a patient holds your hand and tells you how thankful that they are for you, and the moments when myself and a patient can share in a good laugh. The feeling of pride I feel when my patient came in on a ventilator but walks out at discharge, makes it all worth it. All the wonderful, precious moments are why I love nursing. The great moments are what get myself and my coworkers through the long, difficult 12 hour shifts. Thank god for fantastic coworkers. My coworkers are like my family. I know that they understand the mental turmoil that I go through after a hard day. Only nurses understand truly what nurses go through.
So the next time that you want to tell a nurse that it must be great to work ONLY 36 hours a week, please be mindful of what those 36 hours are like. Give a nurse a hug today, and be thankful that we continue to do what we do, and don’t judge us when we drink a little extra wine. If it were easy, everyone would do it.
but still smiling ICU nurse.
After about three years of unlucky fabrication and a not quite easy shooting I can finally present you my Lapis Lazuli cosplay. This seemingly simple cosplay turned out to be a true nightmare for me but it was absolutely worth the opportunity to live out my Jaspis passion. Special thanks to Franzi for bodypainting and being an amazing and very helpful assistant. <3
Jasper by the sweetest and hottest bara babe ever Tamatoffel
Photos taken and patiently edited by bestest bro Jul
As a female physician, do you find yourself having to be a little "aggressive" or "bossy" sometimes to get things done?
I’d say assertive more than aggressive or bossy. Assertive is what we call bossy men, so let’s call bossy women the same.
I don’t think it’s exclusive to women though. All doctors have to be pushy from time to time to get things done. I’m not talking about being picky or rude for the sake of rudeness. I’m talking about getting people to wake up and do their jobs properly so that patients get taken care of.
The most common example in my office is when I have to argue with EMS that I actually know what I’m doing, because one particular EMT second guesses everything I tell her before she ever lays eyes on the patient. This week I had to demand that my patient be transported to TertiaryHospital an hour away where all her specialists were rather than to SmallHospital 30 minutes away, which had mismanaged her care previously and would likely make her worse because she’s super complicated. She rolled her eyes but it got done and my patient will be in better hands because of it.
I also have to be a bit assertive in the nursing home because much of the staff in one of my homes are super lazy and refuse to follow the basic standards I ask them to follow. So if they call me and clearly don’t have a patient’s chart in front of them when I inevitably ask about their blood pressure meds or vitals or blood sugars, I hang up on them. They call back when they get their crap together. I hang up when they call me saying someone looks sick and they haven’t taken vitals or examined them. They call back when they’ve got them. It’s been a year and they still don’t have it together.
I once chewed out a nurse who announced in front of the whole nursing home day room that a patient had AIDS (he didn’t, but that’s beside the point) and that she wasn’t going to give him CPR if he coded. I chewed her up and down and sideways and reported her to the administrator. She almost lost her job.
So yes, I can be assertive when it affects patient care.
word count: 2594 synopsis: Mingyu is so excited about you coming home with your newborn son that he forgets to take care of himself. a/n: if you read this lil thing i wrote, thank you so much ♡ (i also posted this on aff lmao) (the title sucks :( im sorry ay)
“Ready to go home today, ma’am?” You were cradling your newborn son when one of your nurses came in with a wheelchair. “You and your husband must be excited to bring home little Minjae, huh?”
You smiled at her. “Actually, I think my husband is more excited than me,” you joked. It wasn’t really a joke; throughout your whole pregnancy, Mingyu was always the one reading up on parenting books and some nights you had to pry the books out of his hands so that he can finally get some sleep. (Also, you could’ve sworn he bought those books way before you two even began discussing having children.)
As soon as they hear you’re sick, they show up in total and complete mom-mode. They do your dishes, vacuum your floors, fold your laundry, and basically make sure you’ve got nothing to do around the house during the entirety of your illness.
You don’t actually see a lot of them while they’re over. Mostly they just confine you to bed rest while they get their work done in the other room and make you meals. They say it’s because they don’t want to catch your illness - but the way they avert their eyes signals one of their typical evasions of the truth.
It’s just… so uncomfortable seeing you miserable, especially when they know they can’t do very much. Honestly? They’d love to just stay in bed and cuddle with you but oh boy is that embarrassing to admit, and, y’know, it’s true that they don’t want to get sick. They hate getting sick.
being left totally alone is driving you a bit nuts though, especially since they won’t let you DO anything, so you manage to convince them to at least let you be in the same room as them. So they’re working at the table while you’re sprawled out on the couch watching TV in a stupor…
and. okay. maybe about an hour in they give up - not because they’re worried or want to be by you or anything, they just. y’know. are tired of work and want to also take a television break next to you.
(they totally pet your hair, because there’s no germs on ur hair ok)
(Being taken care of)
Vanderwood hates being sick, so when they catch a cold they are just the sulkiest bastard on the planet
seriously they will not stop whining and moaning about it
“please let me tear off my nose it’s not necessary”
“use the stun gun, MC, knock me out”
“PUT A BULLET IN MY BRAIN MC”
They want to be on whatever drugs make them the sleepiest.
The worst thing is the snot. They feel so gross and want to take a million showers.
(You bring over some nice bath salts and other fancy toiletries to make them feel better. vanderwood secretly loves bath bombs ok)
when they’re not conked out, they’re getting extremely anxious over the state of the house. (there’s dust on the windowsill! there’s dishes in the sink! LET ME VACUUM THE FLOOR)
they try to get up and do those things but you’re like
get the fuck back in bed u giant hypocrite
(you try to do the housework but they whine at you that you’re not doing it right)
basically, what I’m saying is Vanderwood is a huge pain in the ass.
they make you wear a mask around them because YOU’RE NOT GETTING SICK OK
actually, they tell you to stay away from them, and are mostly very insistent about this
when they are really sick and really sleepy tho, you basically get a big, miserable Vanderwood in your lap. you don’t complain, because you know this is what they wanted all along.
(when they wake up and realize they drooled ALL OVER YOU they apologize like a million times)
shut up vanderwood u big baby
(taking care of MC)
ARE YOU DYING
YOU BETTER NOT BE DYING
I WILL NOT FORGIVE YOU IF YOU DIE
you tell saeran it’s fine, it’s just a cold, but lmao this child does not listen
He is by you 24/7. he doesn’t even care if he gets sick it’s YOU and he will be READY TO ADMINISTER THE KISS OF LIFE THE SECOND U NEED IT
(saeran that’s NOT WHAT THAT’S FOR)
Seriously he is rendered useless by you being ill, and he will NOT leave the chair in the corner of your room.
(you have to shove him out so you can shower)
(”WHAT IF YOU PASS OUT AND HIT YOUR HEAD AND DIE”)
(”THAT’S NOT GOING TO HAPPEN YOU MORON IT’S JUST A COLD”)
Saeran tries to be a responsible adult and take care of things for you but you walk in one morning and lmao he’s ruined one of your pans in a horrible pancake accident
(plz baby it’s ok we’ll just order takeout)
he won’t even let you eat by yourself, seriously he tries to feed you everything
but he won’t even admit that this is weird and that he’s freaking out
“No this is normal, this is what you do for sick people, I read it on the internet”
“….…. .. a website.”
“STOP BEING SO DIFFICULT”
anyway, as bad as Saeran is as a caretaker…
he’s an even worse patient.
(being taken care of)
“YOU CAN PUT THAT MEDICINE IN ME WHEN I’M DEAD”
“i have a runny nose and a fever I MUST HAVE LUPUS I OBVIOUSLY ONLY HAVE 2 WEEKS TO LIVE”
“DON’T YOU DARE TAKE ME BACK TO THE HOSPITAL I PERISH IN PEACE”
(take mayoclinic away from this idiot)
he hides in closet like a dying animal because he doesn’t want anyone near him while he’s sick and vulnerable
you coax him out with goldfish and candy bars.
eventually, you manage to convince him to take some fucking nyquil and it’s probably the most intimate display of trust he’s ever shown you
While he’s out, you make him all of his favorite foods to try to make this less miserable. You also get a bunch of DvDs of his favorite shows.
He lives on the couch from that point on and is just curled up next to you.
he complains so much.
more than vanderwood.
that is a lot of complaining.
he totally clams up around anyone else though and you realize he’s only doing that because he trusts you enough that he’ll display weakness around u
you’re like the only person he’ll voice his troubles to congrats
Could you do number 13. Apocalypse au? I think it'd be cool to hear about victuuri in such a situation!
i’m…. such. a slut. for epidemic stories. sooooo warning for character death lmao
no 13: apocalypse fic
Patient Zero died on a Tuesday. He had been backpacking in Tibet with his friends, and at some point he ate contaminated pork at a streetside restaurant on the way back to Lhasa. He had fallen ill on the flight home to Beijing, was quarantined upon arrival, and died on a Tuesday.
That’s what Dr Yuuri Katsuki at the World Health Organisation knows. He also knows that Patient Zero’s American friend began exhibiting symptoms shortly after returning to the United States. It had started out looking like some sort of stomach flu, but once he began fainting in public and vomiting blood on the way to the hospital, it became readily apparent that he had contracted something more serious.
And then more and more cases begin popping up. A flight attendant on the flight to Beijing. The mother that had helped the American sit down on the curb long enough to call an ambulance. The EMTs who had gotten him to the hospital. The Chinese quarantine officials who had taken in Patient Zero. And even before the WHO had time to blink, it was spiralling out of control.
“Please,” the doctor next to him begs. On the other side of the glass observation pane is a teenage boy with blond hair, shivering and sweating and green in the face. “I need to see him.”
Yuuri looks at the doctor, looks at his haggard, ashen expression. Maybe he’d always had silver hair, or his son’s sudden illness had greyed him overnight. But he shakes his head. “I’m afraid that’s not possible, Dr Nikiforov,” he says.
“He’s all I have,” begs Dr Nikiforov.
“You’ll get sick,” says Yuuri, swallowing down the lump in his own throat at the grief on the man’s face. “The vaccine trials are progressing smoothly; hopefully within a couple of days we can begin testing on patients in this facility –”
“I know about that,” snaps Dr Nikiforov. Slowly, the teenager crosses over to the window, anger in his face but no energy left to act on it. He had screamed the night he was put in here, Yuuri remembers. A tear threatens to spill from his eye.
The teenager presses his hand against the window. Dr Nikiforov presses his hand back, mouthing something to the boy which makes him scowl deeper and his eyes sparkle with tears. Yuuri wants to cave, wants to reunite the two of them, but he grits his teeth and clenches his hands and prays, instead, that the vaccine trials come out successful.
The teenager wanders back to his bed. Dr Nikiforov lowers his hand and turns to Yuuri, two fat trails of tear-tracks streaking his face. Without a word, Yuuri opens his arms, and Dr Nikiforov falls into them, and if Yuuri’s labcoat is wetter after the man pulls from him, he doesn’t say anything.
(they’ll find a cure, but probably not before most of the world tears itself apart. at one point yuuri himself will be trapped on the wrong side of a sanitary cordon? but yeah he’s with the WHO and viktor is actually a doctor with MSF who might steal some of the prelim cures and sneak them to people because he doesn’t want what happened to yurio to happen to them lol and then he breaks into the cordon to give one of the cures to yuuri)