The Past Coming Back With The Light In The Morning
Part 1 | ???
You guys wanted it, here it is! This is part 1, so things might look a bit familiar, but there's plenty more to come :)
Winter, the worst time of year. Or, at least, Harrison thought it was. Deals were so much more difficult, stakeout so much harder when you could see your breath and not feel your feet. Cold season had well and truly got its claws in, and they'd found a firm hold on Harrison.
He wasn't going to let it stop him, but the fuzzy head and persistent cough and sniffle made him wary. The last time he'd pulled out of his job, the rest of Fred’s men had been quick to tease and taunt him, and he wasn’t in the mood for a repeat.
When the page went off in the middle of the night, he grumbled. It was just his fucking luck. Despite his protests, he still made it, turning up at the depot fuming.
The evening passed in somewhat of a blur, the fuzzy tinge to his thoughts only settling further. He knew he ought to just go home, but he couldn't let his small team down. He wasn't sure where the rain of bullets came from, but he saw Chris fall, felt the heat as they whizzed past them.
Harrison shouted down the radio, opening fire in return as he dragged Chris out of the way. He was more stunned than anything, a graze to his thigh and shoulder. The man Harrison had only ever known as Romeo finished the attackers off, rushing to their side as the alley silenced once more.
Reinforcements were quick to swarm them, the van swerving between warehouses to pick them up. They were quick to jump in the back, the five of them quickly taking stock and checking each other over.
Harrison quickly braced himself against the side as they started moving, the sudden movement sending a lance of pain through his abdomen. He groaned, unfortunately all too aware of the pain. His vest had a nick out of it, and he could tell by the budding bruises growing under it. The pain was worse than just that, and he couldn't quite believe it as his fingers came back red.
The bullet had missed the vest, only by a fraction, but that was all it needed to make its mark. He swore quietly, pulling on the velcro. The vest was stuck to his top, and his top to his skin, sticky red seeping through the fabric.
It took him a moment to catch up, and to realise he was being gently convinced to sit down. Their hands were gentle, though they shook. He rested his head against the side of the van, his vision starting to fade. He groaned, shaking his head as if to clear it, his brow furrowing.
"Fuck." He breathed, breaking off into heaving coughs. "This is bullshit."
"Hars, what do we do?"
He managed to glare at them. "Are you fucking wit' me?"
"There's just - it's a bit - it's just - "
"Fuck off with that." Harrison didn't have time for his crap. "One of you call…call Fao."
He barely managed the sentence, each word slurring into the next. He pitched forward as the van swerved, but he made no attempt to save himself. There was a dull thud as his body fell against the floor, his eyes rolled and unresponsive.
"What's going on back there?" The driver called gruffly.
"Harrison’s down."
"What happened?"
"I don't know!" His voice whined, his age showing through his panic.
"Call a medic alert, get the kit out and treat the fucker."
When Fao’s phone rang in the middle of the night, he startled awake, fumbling for it in the dark. He’d been out for dinner that night, definitely wasn’t sober, but the adrenaline was already doing a pretty good job of fixing that. They didn’t give him much information over the phone, just that they’d got a GSW and their rough location, in code so they’d be safe if anyone else happened to be listening. They were too far out to get back to the basement, and Fao would need to meet them halfway to treat.
He woke Ely, gave her a quick update, and pulled on some clothes, the first thing he found on the floor, his shirt and trousers from the evening. He didn’t have time to go looking for anything else, and bolted out of the house. There was kit in his car, and he knew there was kit in the van. He wasn’t sure what he’d need, but between both he’d probably have everything he needed. He sped through the streets to the meet location he’d been given, ditched his car somewhere safe, and scrambled into the van.
“What am I doing? Talk to me.” He asked breathlessly.
Harrison had become combative as he deteriorated, struggling between conscious and not. It scared the men, and they'd all taken a step back, too uncomfortable to help.
Fao was a welcome sight, his reputation preceding him.
"Uh, Harrison got shot. He won't let us near him, so we haven't."
Fao’s heart sank. Of course it was Harrison. “Oh, good. Just him bleed out all over the van, then.” He snapped, quickly throwing his hair up into a bun. “I need proper light, one of you sort that.” His voice was cold, commanding, rolling his sleeves up and quickly looking Harrison over. It wasn’t hard to see where the blood was coming from, and he shifted his weight to brace himself as he grabbed gauze and put as much pressure on it as he dared. “You. Come here, take over the pressure.”
“I, uh, I…”
“Shut up, I don’t want to hear it. Cover my hands with yours and hold the pressure until I say otherwise. Unless you want to start an IV? No? Didn’t think so.” He snapped, as the other man took over. He wiped his bloody hands off on his shirt, and shifted over slightly to Harrison’s arm, eyes looking critically for a vein as he rifled through the kit.
The pain somehow got worse. Harrison wasn't sure how, but it did. He cried out through gritted teeth, trying to arch away. It took a moment to coordinate, but he started swinging, trying to get away.
Fao ducked out of the way, catching Harrison’s fist and gently forcing his arm back down. “Harrison? It’s okay, you’re okay. It’s Fao, I’ve got you. Try and relax, you’re safe now. I’m helping, alright? Let me help.”
"He's going to hit me!"
“He’s half unconscious, try harder to dodge him.” Fao shot back. “I’m working as fast as I can.” He gritted his teeth as he tried desperately to get a vein, struggling with poor light and Harrison’s struggling. He got one eventually, shouting triumphantly. It wasn’t enough, and he wanted more access, but he could at least get some pain relief in, hopefully settle him.
Harrison twisted as Fao shouted, whining as he tried to get away. His chest heaved as he struggled to get his breath, the feeling he was drowning all too much.
“Sorry, sorry.” Fao soothed. “You’re okay, I’ve got you. It’s gonna be okay, Hars. Just focus on doing that breathing, let me to do the rest. Giving you something for the pain, now, gonna make it easier.” He told him, quickly checking the drug before he gave it.
His shouts died down into cries, quiet whimpering softly to himself. The pain had started to ease slightly, making it easier to focus. It made breathing more difficult, though, and he couldn't stop the panic coursing through him.
“You’re okay, that’s it. Well done, keep breathing for me.”
He turned his head, looking towards Fao's voice. "Help."
“I’m helping, I promise.”
"It hurts." He managed, finally managing to focus on him.
“I know, I know. I’ve given you some painkillers, they’ll work soon.”
"'m dying."
“No you’re not. Just focus on your breathing for me, let me sort the rest.”
"I am."
“That’s it, good.” Fao reassured. There was so much blood, and he was really struggling to properly control it. The van went over a bump and jolted, and Fao tried to brace himself on his knees. “Fucking hell.”
Harrison whined, trying to pull away from the pain. It was everywhere, though, and there was nothing he could do.
“Well done, that’s it.” He soothed. “I’ve got you.” He stretched for his kit, rifling through to try and find what he needed. He needed a trained someone, anyone who he could trust. Not Harrison’s little team.
Frustrated and tired, he started fighting against the other man. He got a solid elbow in their ribs, the relief of pressure against his side just bliss.
“I know, I know.” Fao murmured, moving to try and pack the wound.
He twisted again, curling away from Fao. His scream died on his tongue, his hands pushing against Fao's.
“I’m sorry, I know it hurts.” Fao muttered. He was happy enough with the packing, and moved to try and get a listen to Harrison’s chest. It was loud on the van, and he struggled to keep his balance as he listened, swearing to himself.
Harrison could feel himself slipping, the ceiling of the van swimming in and out of focus. Even the pain couldn't keep him conscious, his head lolling.
Fao’s stomach twisted as Hars lost consciousness, but he was relieved in a way. At least he wasn’t in pain. He didn’t like what he was hearing at all from his chest, and dug in his kit to find what he needed for a chest drain. It certainly wouldn’t be perfect, but it would do. He didn’t even bother talking to the other men as he grabbed a scalpel, found his landmark, and made the cut.
He definitely felt that, and he cried out again, but he wasn't with it any more. The men beside Fao retched, especially as blood quickly poured from the drain.
Fao rolled his eyes as the men retched. What he wouldn’t give for Steve or Finn or someone. Trying to manage this completely on his own wasn’t working. He took a set of obs as best he could, blood soaking his trousers and making them cling to him. The numbers he got back were more than a bit concerning, despite his interventions, and they weren’t getting any better. Fuck.
Harrison coughed and choked, spots of blood on his lips. His resps were through the roof, his heart rate doing its best to compensate for his blood pressure circling, for his blood volume pooling on the floor. He managed to catch Fao's eye, and he met his gaze with panic and fear in his eyes.
Fao locked eyes with Harrison. “I’ve got you, Tomcat. You’re gonna be okay.” He told him firmly. Things were just consistently getting worse, though, and Fao felt considerably out of control. He gave as much TXA as he felt he could, but it wasn’t close to enough to help the bleeding.
“How far out are we?” He snapped, asking whoever cared to listen.
"We've still got at least fifteen minutes."
“Fuck’s sake.”
Hars could feel himself slipping again, missing parts of the conversation. He grabbed for Fao's top, his hand leaving more bloodied streaks across it.
"I want Steve."
“We’re gonna be with him really soon, Hars.” Fao murmured. “He’s gonna be waiting for us at home.”
He shook his head. "I'm not gonna make it."
“As if I’m giving up on you. I’m gonna make sure you’re okay, alright? Hold on for me.”
He knew Fao was trying his best, and he’d continue to do nothing but. He trusted Fao with his life, and they unfortunately kept ending up in situations where it was tested. It didn’t take a genius to know he wasn’t okay, and the small bit or working brain he had left had worked out it probably wasn't going to end well.
He forced his eyes open again, though he didn't remember closing them. "It's okay."
Fao’s repeat set of obs were no better. In fact, they were worse. He swallowed thickly, digging around in his pocket for his phone. He needed to talk to Steve, needed someone medical he could talk to, to reassure him he wasn’t completely out of his mind.
He chucked it on the floor of the van on speaker as it rang, and he prayed he’d answer.
"Fao, talk to me. I heard the call for medical."
“It’s Hars, and it’s bad. We’re still miles out, in the back of a shitty van, and all I have is my kit.”
Hars stirred again. "Steve?"
"Hey, Hars. You causing problems for Fao, eh?" He tried to sound light for him, but even he could hear the waver in his tone. He cleared his throat. "What's happened with him? Head to toe, obs, and what kit do you have?"
“GSW, it’s gone just under his vest, entry is the abdo but exit is further up into the chest. Haemothorax on the right. I’ve got a drain in but it’s putting out so much fucking blood. Pulse 138, BP 76/50, SpO2 94 on high flow, Resps sitting at 36, he's still not getting chest rise on the right. He's with it enough, but he's starting to pass out and stay out. I've given the TXA but it's just not stopping. The floor is covered, I'm covered. It’s my kit, it’s decent. Airway kit, ket, paralytics, TXA. I’m just out of my fucking depth here, nobody else knows a fucking thing and I feel like I’m going insane.”
Steve took a moment. Well, fuck. "Right. Take a breath. Reassess, keep going ABCs. You need to get on top of that bleeding. He's not going to be able to compensate forever. Have you got anything to give? Will they follow instructions?"
“I know he won’t compensate forever.” Fao snapped. “I’ve got saline but no blood. They’re fucking useless, hadn’t touched him at all when I showed up. Not even put pressure on.”
"Fucking hell. Okay. Fluid bolus, see if that helps his pressure at all. He's not going to hold his airway by himself if he goes, so just be careful."
Fao quickly set up the fluids, wiping his hands on his trousers as he struggled with the connectors. Fluids running, he forced himself to breathe. “Alright. Fluids in. I want to sort his airway before it becomes a problem.”
"If you're thinking RSI, you need to trust they can help."
"Steve." Harrison interrupted again, apparently unaware of the conversation.
“I don’t think I’m going to have a choice, Steve. I’m watching him deteriorate in front of me, and we’re still miles out.”
"You can see him, not me. Do what you think is best."
Unimpressed by Steve's lack of response, he shoved at Fao with a frustrated grunt. "Steve."
Fao huffed. “Thank you, Hars.” He muttered under his breath. “He’s very insistent that he wants you, Steve.”
"Hars, we're just trying to help you."
"No." He shook his head, though Steve couldn't see, and Fao wasn't sure he didn't realise that.
“We are, I’m doing my best right now Hars. Focus on breathing like I said.”
He sniffed, setting himself off coughing again. The pain exploded again, despite the morphine, and, once more, slipped under.
God, it was just getting worse. He hated watching Harrison slip into unconsciousness again, powerless to stop it.
"Fao, talk to me." Steve's tone was tense, and Fao could hear him pacing.
“Unconscious again, I’m repeating obs.” Fao replied, his own tone similarly tense.
"Come on, Hars. Don't do this." Steve murmured, wishing he was there with them.
The blood pressure cycled, protesting at the numbers. It continued tightening, way into the two hundreds, and Harrison gave a whine. He tried to pull away from it, panicked.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Just give it a minute, I know it’s uncomfy.” Fao murmured, but it wasn’t a good sign. He knew full well it wasn’t high enough to need that kind of pressure - it was just struggling for a read full stop.
Harrison, of course, didn't listen. He twisted away, an unintelligible shout in both pain and frustration.
"Hars, listen to Fao. He's looking after you."
“It’s alright, it’s okay.” Fao tried vainly to soothe. But sure enough the blood pressure gave up, failing to get a read, and Fao’s stomach dropped. “Fluids haven’t done shit. It won’t even read, just cycles until it gives up.”
"You're going to have to give more, you can't RSI that low. Has he got a radial?"
It took Fao a moment. “No. Nothing.”
"Give him fluids."
“I might as well just pour them on the fucking floor.” Fao muttered, but swapped the bag over to give more.
"Just try."
“Yeah, they’re running.”
Harrison screwed his face up, managing to squint at Fao. He was sure he'd heard Steve too, but the huddle of men behind Fao were too small to be him.
“That’s it Hars, you’re alright.” Fao said softly, half as reassurance for himself.
"Where's Steve?" He slurred, more of a mumble than anything.
“On the phone with me.” Fao replied.
"Right here, Hars."
“Both of us are looking after you.”
"Sorry."
“Don’t apologise.” Fao said firmly.
Harrison lapsed back into silence, somewhere between conscious and not. As the blood pressure started again, he whined once more, but didn't pull away.
Harrison’s blood was drying on his hands, as Fao waited for the machine to read, praying it would give him something. Just a number would be better than the endless cycling.
Harrison's breath caught in his throat again, and his frown deepened. He knew Fao was looking after him, and Steve was there too, somewhere. He could see Fao leaning over him, doing things in slow motion. Which left Steve..
"Dad?"
Fao’s stomach twisted, and the noise Steve made over the crackled phone line was less than dignified.
“I’m right here, Hars. I’m right here, I’ve got you.” He replied, his voice wavering. “You’re going to be okay.”
He seemed to have a sudden rush of energy, though his observations were still terrible, and his prognosis even worse.
"Thank you." He muttered softly.
Fao sucked in another deep breath, forcing himself to re-focus. He had to keep doing this. “Blood pressure is a little less shit. I’ve at least got a number.”
"That's good." Steve managed.
Harrison reached for Fao’s hand, for a moment of comfort in his desperation.
Fao squeezed his fingers. “I’ve got you.” He murmured. He laid out his airway kit with the other hand, leaving smears of blood all over it, though he didn’t notice. He needed the blood pressure up a bit more before he could fully RSI, but it never hurt to prepare.
The squeeze managed to help, a tiny hint of a smile gracing Harrison's blood-splattered lips. He tried his best, his fingers twitching in Fao's before his eyes rolled. It didn’t take long for things to go south, as Hars took a breath and then stopped.
“Fuck.” Fao muttered, snatching up his kit. He couldn’t put this off any longer now, he needed control of his airway. Unsure just how conscious he was, having watched him flick in and out, Fao chatted away to him as he sorted it, half to keep himself from losing it. “Alright Hars. That’s you finding your limit, hmm? It’s okay, I’ll take over from here. Got some meds to get you off to sleep now, so you can have a nap whilst I do the hard work.” He quickly pushed the ket, watching him carefully. There were men clustered around Harrison’s head, and Fao snapped at them to move, which they did. Happy with his sedation, he pushed his roc, bagged until he was happy with it, and snatched up his tube and laryngoscope. He was rusty with his intubations, of course, so what better time to practice than in a dark, moving van covered in blood? But Harrison, for all he made Fao’s life difficult, apparently wasn’t a difficult airway, and Fao got it first time. He shouted triumphantly, checked his placement, and then secured it.
“Tube’s in, airway’s secure.”
Steve let out a shaky breath. "Good. Well done."
Fao couldn’t breathe for Harrison forever, not if he was going to continue to manage the bleeding. “Which one of you lot is the most competent here? Who’s not a complete idiot?” He asked.
They were all quiet, slightly afraid of Harrison and definitely afraid of Fao. After a moment, one of them stepped forward.
"I can help. What do you need?"
Fao looked up. “Are you capable of breathing?”
"For him?"
Fao huffed. “Essentially, yes. Every time you take a breath, I want you to squeeze this to breathe for him, too. Can you do that?” He asked, demonstrating. “I can’t sit here and do it, I’ve got other stuff to do.”
Panic flashed across his face. "Okay. Yeah." He swallowed, taking a moment. It was Harrison. He'd got him out of shit so many times before, it was only fair to return the favour. "I can do that."
“Just whenever you breathe, breathe for him too. Just got to think about breathing. Okay?”
"Okay." He moved to take Fao's place. "I can do that."
“Shout if you get stuck.” Fao murmured, and moved away, to carefully take yet another set of obs, praying they were better than before.
Steve hated being so far away, so unable to do anything. "Fao, talk to me."
“I’m taking obs.” Fao shot back. “I’ll tell you stuff when I know it.”
"You just went silent. I need to know what's happening."
“I’m trying to concentrate!”
"Fine, hurry up."
“Going as fast as I can.” He muttered. For once, Harrison’s obs had trended slightly upwards, and Fao was glad of it. “A bit better. SpO2 has come up, as has his BP.”
"Good. The tube will be helping with his sats."
“Yeah, that’s why I did it.” Fao said flatly.
"I just mean that he's not going to be resping at fifty or some shite."
“Yeah.”
"How's the bleeding doing?"
“Still fucking bleeding.”
"I've put a call out for more blood, you just need to get back."
“I’ll need the whole trauma setup.” Fao muttered, doing his best to manage the bleeding. “Can you go up and wake Ely? I’m going to need her."
"Everyone's up. They're just sorting the basement out."
“Good.” Fao was relieved he had a team waiting for him.
"If the second lot of fluids helped, you can give him another 500 bolus."
“It’s helped, but I don’t know for how much longer. I’ve got no pressors, and limited fluids.”
"You just need to get him back. If he's still got pressure, give it."
“Giving it now.” He muttered, trying to push his hair out of his face.
"Give me a run down of his obs once you've done that."
He finally got it connected and running, discarding the spent bag. His ‘assistant’ was doing well ventilating, surprisingly, and so he quickly started on obs. He hated having to do this in such an old fashioned manner, he missed his hospital conveniences and continuous monitoring.
But as he started, he just knew it was wrong, and when he didn’t find a pulse, his stomach twisted. “Oh, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
*i regularly update this post with any new info i find so please always reblog the original post*
Donations
palestine children's relief fund
palestine red crescent society
help bring down israel's weapon trade - palaction
save palestine - islamic relief canada
click to donate - arab.org
send medical supplies to gaza - palestinian american medical association
NOTE: journalists based in gaza are saying that donations are not going to help atm. what will help is a demand for ceasefire. so please contact your local MPs every single day demanding as such. palestine need a ceasefire right now, not money (i will update when monetary help is needed)
if you want to donate, do this instead:
help buy e-sims for people in gaza (PLEASE HELP CONNECT GAZANS TO THE WORLD. if you would like to stay updated, please follow @/Mirna_elhelbawi on twitter)
donate to get food packages to gaza - care for gaza
verified and endorsed by people in gaza themselves
support palestinians: buy a keffiyeh from the last and only factory in palestine - hirbawi
Petitions
petition to investigate war crimes committed by israeli military
demand ceasefire - amnesty.org
open call for immediate ceasefire
american government call for immediate ceasefire
american government to stop funding israeli military
ceasefire and increase humanitarian assistance - oxfam au
petition to get canva to address their pro-israel stance
they have been deleting private pro-palestine posts
location specific petitions
gaza call for ceasefire - oxfam (UK)
end israeli occupation - parliament uk (UK)
email your MP - medical aid for palestine (UK)
stop fuelling genocide - action network (USA)
ceasefirenow.com - jewishvoiceofpeace (USA)
call congress and demand a ceasefire - uscpr (USA - they provide a script of what you should say, so don't worry about it)
note: you can call everyday. they tally the number of calls per issue. so more calls = higher chance for them to take action. p.s. you mainly go to voicemail so don’t worry about phone call anxiety. fight through it just this once please.
australia call on israel to stop attacking palestinians - apan (AUS)
sign to send letter to MP for ceasefire - nccm (CANADA)
ceasefire now! - ijv (CANADA)
ceasefire and allow aid to enter gaza - oxfam (CANADA)
canada house of commons petition 4649 (CANADA)
closes 23 Nov @ 3.20pm EDT
house of commons petition 4661 (CANADA)
closes 9 dec @ 11.03am EDT
cessez-le-feu et un couloir humanitaire - le mouvement (FRANCE)
write to your député - assemblée nationale (FRANCE)
skydda civilbefolkningen i gaza! - mittskifte (SWEDEN)
singaporeans call for immediate ceasefire (SIN)
contact your elected reps and demand a ceasefire (GERMANY)
write to the EU demanding a ceasefire (EUROPE)
template of letters you can send (EU)
guide on how to contact your MPs in EU
multiple actions you can take to help palestine - plant een olifbloom (NETHERLANDS)
includes: links for donations, emails to MP, emails to media, links to petitions and demonstrations
den haag, maak nú werk van vrede in israël/Palestina - the right forum (NETHERLANDS)
Campaigns
friends of al-aqsa
❥ UK-specific
urge your MP to speak up for palestine
hands off al-aqsa
stop administrative detention
petition for UK to stop arming israel
❥ International
boycott puma — email them to end their partnership with israel
boycott coca-cola
palestine action
join the resistance
islamic relief canada
urge your MP to rally for ceasefire
decolonise palestine
poster campaign to raise awareness on the war crimes being committed against palestinians | (very very important please share + read the sources provided)
text/call campaign for people living in USA
text CEASEFIRE @ 51905 to call for a ceasefire
text RESIST @ 50409 to send a letter to your representatives to pass HR3103–a bill that prohibits tax dollars from going to israel
download 5Calls app to contact members of your congress | (more info)
fax campaign for people in the USA
go on this website to send 5 free faxes per day
here’s a link to a pre-written fax copy you can download to send (the first link on the linktree)
here’s a video that explains how to fax your senator (it’s very easy and all you need is a valid email address)
BDS movement
get involved in boycotting companies associated with israel
please let me know if you have any more links. i will add them in. and please reblog the original post!!
love someone miserable in the cold rain or snow or wind or whatever but what about miserable in the heat.. someone stripped down to nothing as they sniffle in the cold bath, overwhelmed with feeling nothing but hot, like the heat is crawling up out of their throat but also sinking down on their shoulders, oppressive, draining their energy. they’re lethargic and exhausted already, and the heat doesn’t help. they can’t tell if they’re sweating. they can’t tell if the fever is climbing or breaking, it’s so damn hot…
Ok I LOVE chills + fever but recently I've been thinking more about sick whumpees who are so so uncomfortably hot and can't do anything about it.
Especially if they're alone. Maybe they were horribly chilled earlier, but eventually they manage to get to sleep and the caretaker thinks it's safe to leave them for a few minutes to go to the store - but then the whumpee wakes up and is so, so hot they can't move, so thirsty they feel like their entire body is drying up, the room is spinning and all they can see is a heat haze and where is Caretaker??
It's not really that long before they've returned, but to the whumpee it feels like it could be years. Once Caretaker gets back they find them drenched in sweat and panting shallowly with their eyes half open, too weak and dizzy to move any more than faintly brushing their fingers against Caretaker's sleeve and whimpering feebly.
And the caretaker feels so bad, right away fetching a cool cloth that they start sponging off the whumpee's forehead and neck with, talking quietly and gently to them until they've calmed down.
When they're so super delirious that they can barely see the face looming above them, and what they do see is twisted and distorted beyond recognition - maybe it's a friend but they see a nightmarish demon, maybe it's a stranger but they see a long lost family member. Or, at least, they see something and that's only semblance of a face their fevered mind can latch onto.
Sooo I've heard all about struggling to get feverish characters out of sweaty clothes with uncooperative limbs - but I recently thought of someone being partly stripped down (to their underwear, just the shirt off, to a light undershirt etc.) as the caretaker desperately tries to cool their burning fever, only for them to wake up much later with horrible chills and weakly sit up to ask Caretaker to help them put something warm back on
Someone trying to sleep, already propped up on multiple pillows, but they're stuffed up so badly that they can't manage to fall asleep. A slightly damp cloth is on their hot forehead, back from when they were able to stand up and walk a little without passing out. Thick sniffles, that sound like someone's drowning, echo through the cold room. In fact, the poor thing feels like they're drowning too. The congestion hasn't let up in days and the gunk in their sinuses feels so thick that they can barely breathe. A gut-wrenching sneeze pulls them forward and shakes their whole body. They let out a whimper as their already sore stomach contracts and their mind sways dizzily. They crawl back under the blankets as fast as they can, but their sluggish limbs get stuck in the blankets. Tears start to run down their face and mix with the snot, as they can't hold back the sobs any longer. They're so, so cold and they feel so ill/unwell and they just want it to stop. The sobs bring harsh, wracking coughs with them, which they try to muffle clumsily in the blanket. They can't stop shivering and their teeth are chattering so hard that they're afraid it might make them fall out.
They think back to how they got here. A week ago this was just a case of the sniffles, some coughs and a small headache. They kept working through it until eventually it became too much to handle and they had collapsed. Managing to crawl into bed, all the while coughing harshly, the shaking started kicking in. Now, a few days later (everything has blurred together so they don't know how long exactly), they feel weak and like they can't breathe properly. They know their fever has risen too much to be healthy, but they just can't muster up the energy to do something about it. Everything hurts, and all they can do is lie there and hope for someone to save them. Their sobs get louder and louder, as the hours swirl by in their feverish haze.
But then, suddenly, there's a soothing voice and a cool hand on their burning forehead. Their wheezing breath catches in their throat. Warm arms are around them in a second, finally, finally making them feel a little bit warmer. They clutch the clothes of their savior, their love, and for the first time in a long time, they don't feel alone.
You know what I love? When characters wake up to a cold cloth being applied to their forehead.
Maybe they've been in and out of a fever for a while now, blinking through their blurred vision and trying to make out the confused faces and voices around them as some concerned person dabs at their face.
Maybe they had a horrible fever that has now broken, and when they wake up their head is clear again but they're so weak and achy and covered in cold sweat with a now lukewarm compress draped across their head that it takes them a minute to notice.
Maybe they wake up from a nightmare thrashing and gasping and crying out, and somebody at their side already shushing them gently and trying to calm them, sponging sweat from their forehead as they do so.
From a person who passes out almost daily from dehydration and POTS
Fainting can be dramatic (eyes rolling back, falling to the floor, etc), but it can also be subtle sometimes. Even standing up, your whumpee could just sway in place a bit, eyes going unfocused and dilated. Maybe those around them grow concerned as they realize whumpee is unresponsive, before moving to touch them, shake their shoulder, and watching with horror as whumpee tips over and slumps to the floor.
When your whumpee is coming to, there’s often a few seconds where they are aware of and can understand everything around them, but are unable to move or talk. Just laying there, maybe mumbling something quietly or waving a hand at most, body still coming back online.
Whumpee catching themself passing out, deliberately breathing slow and deep in an attempt to not faint, even as they slowly feel their thoughts leaving them. The darkness fuzzing in on the corners of their vision and masking their surroundings, and the last, frustrated thought of “well, shit” as they sink to the ground, breathing exercises having failed them.
Alternatively, there can also be a few seconds after (before??) coming to when your whumpee isn’t cognizant of what is happening, but it appears like they are. They may sit up, even respond to a basic question, and then blink awake, completely disoriented at already being upright and moving.
Everyone around them freaking out, disorienting whumpee even further as they wake up to the concerned voices and roaming hands and prodding and questions. Whumpee attempting to brush everyone off, appease everyone, to just get away as they maybe stagger to their feet or curl into a ball.
Thinking about a very feverish sick person (A) who picked up a horrendous cold that they just don't know what to do about - their ex (B) (who A very much still has feelings for) always used to take care of everything when A was sick. Their ex would stock up on medicines, keep track of their temperature, and feed them medicine religiously every few hours.
But, they broke up months and months ago, and this is the first bad cold that A has picked up since the break up. Since B always took care of everything, A doesn't know what medicines they need, doesn't know how high of a fever is too high, can't remember what that wonderful cool, gooey stuff that B used to get for them and put on their chest to clear them up was...
While A is completely and utterly fever-delirious, they text B a series of somewhat incoherent questions about what medicines they used to get, along with other various questions regarding their current sick state. A would have never texted B out of the blue like this if they were anywhere near the right state of mind, but their hazy, feverish self saw no problem randomly texting their ex who they're still majorly in love with for advice about sick day necessities.
B is very confused when they get the texts from A, but with a few pointed questions texted to A, B begins to realize that A is really sick. B remembers the kinds of high fevers A used to run when they got sick when they were still together, and starts to piece together that A likely texted them out of instinct while feverish.
After a few minutes of contemplation on B's end, B texts A they'd be over to their place in 20 minutes with all the medicine and crap they used to get for A when they were still together. What could be the worst that could happen, right? They'd check on A to make sure they weren't absolutely dying, drop the medicine, and leave.
But, when B arrives at A's place, they easily slip back into the caretaking routine that had become so familiar to them throughout their relationship with A. They take A's temperature, get some medicine and fever reducers in them, make them a hot drink to soothe their throat, and more.
Throughout this time, A lets out some extremely delirious sentences that fluster B to no extent ("I missed you...",), and to B's slight annoyance, their feelings for A are coming back in full force, and they're beginning to forget why they thought it was a good idea to break up in the first place...
Bonus points if: A deliriously, and on the brink of falling asleep, asks B to stay with them. Of course, B can't say no, even though their brain yells at them, saying that it was a horrible idea. When A wakes up and finds B sitting up against the headboard of their bed next to them, they're extremely confused, turned intensely apologetic when B explains everything to them, jogging their memory from their fever-delirium moments. Both A and B are feeling all of their old feelings for their partner quickly rush back, and their conversation quickly turns into one about how much they missed each other and possibly beginning to see each other again...
Just some things a caregiver might do to make someone with a fever feel a little better. For when they’re a bit uncomfortable and has a loving caretaker around.
IMPORTANT NOTE: This is not medical advice, but please use these in your sickfics because I love reading about them.
🥶 If they’re cold and shivering:
Wrap a blanket around them. Maybe two!
Provide a hot water bottle or heated wheat pillow
Put the warmest, softest pair of woolly socks on their chilly feet
Tumble dry their pyjamas/dressing gown
Warm their icy hands between your own
Tuck them in nice and tight under the duvet
Wrap them up in several layers of clothing, especially if they’re outside or need to go outdoors for whatever reason
Classic: Use body heat to help warm them up, get under the covers with them
Put them in an armchair close to a fireplace
🥵 If they’re too hot:
Flip their pillow to the cool side
Open a window to let in fresh air
Put a fresh set of sheets on the bed
Provide a cold water bottle, or wheat pillow in the freezer
Help them into lighter clothing
We of course have the classic “washcloth to fevered forehead” but also consider these areas to wipe down or place a cool cloth on for comfort:
Closed eyelids
Cheeks
Side or back of the neck
Chest
Wrists / hands / arms
Ankles / feet / legs
Yeah basically the whole body
😣 If they’re in pain:
Close the curtains to help with their headache and/or help them sleep
Make sure they’re hydrated
Massage their achy muscles
Provide fever reducers / pain medication
Make them hot cups of tea to soothe their sore throat. Don’t forget the honey!
Gently stroking fingertips up and down their arms / legs / back in a soothing fashion (think ASMR light touch tracing)
Holding them close, perhaps gently rocking back and forth, helping them fall asleep to aid their recovery
Those are the things I could think of for now. Please use these and/or expand the lists with your own suggestions 😊
Losing consciousness eyes are so good. Fluttering eyelids. Eyes going out of focus before they close. Eyes meeting with those of the whumpee or the carer, wide with pain and fear, before rolling back.
Per the Jan 11th announcement, you can now see posts tagged with banned** tags and view flagged blogs on the iOS app.
To do this, open tumblr in a browser (this setting is not accessible on the iOS app itself) and go to your account settings. Then, click the “Hide Sensitive Content” toggle in the “Filtering” section. This setting is automatically turned on for everyone by default. Here’s what the toggle looks like when it has been turned OFF (it will be highlighted blue when on):
But wait, you’re not done! For this setting to take effect, you must also make sure you’ve updated the tumblr app to version 22.5.2 (or higher). To update the app, go to the app store, click your profile icon in the top right corner, and scroll down until you reach the updates section. If tumblr displays an “Update” button, click it. You can check the version number by clicking “more” in the update description.
If you’ve already updated to version 22.5.2, make sure to restart the app after toggling the sensitive content setting.
That’s it, you’re done!
**This has no effect on anyone using tumblr via any other browser or app. All toggling this setting does is remove the recent iOS-only hardbanned tags and give iOS app users the same tumblr experience as everyone else. The soft ban on certain “NSFW” tags that’s been in effect since the Great Purge of 2018 is still in effect, at least as of right now. To understand the difference between softbanned and hardbanned tags check out my post about it HERE.
Also, a quick note to content creators: Even with this toggle, I would avoid using any of the banned tags whenever possible because posts with those tags will still be completely hidden (in searches and on dashboards) on the iOS app for anyone who doesn’t know about this workaround. Fortunately, it seems tumblr is currently reviewing the list and walking back some of the tags that were originally banned, seemingly for no reason as they had nothing to do with sensitive content. Most have not been reversed yet. Keep an eye on the banned tags list and continue to check tags yourself since @bannedtags doesn’t have all of them.
This solution is better than nothing, but we’re not out of the woods yet.
Image 1 is the “Hide Sensitive Content” toggle. Text below reads “By default, we hide sensitive content in the Turnblr IOS app. Disable this setting to show sensitive content.”
Image 2 is the Tumblr app’s listing, with a red box drawing attention to an update button.
/ED
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