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Hi. Have you got any recomendations for Witcher fanfictions with medical theme? (Aside of your own that is, which are absolutely brillinat).
Yooo go check out my friend @biblichor’s stuff on AO3. She’s written a lot of stuff for Witcher with similar themes and it’s all fantastic.
@modernathenamd replied to your post “Had a rapid response yesterday when I was in the ICU… I forgot that...”
I love you
@cranquis replied to your post “random does her first dictation ever!”
liking the new tag, great pun
Riighhttt!!?!?!??! :D
@simplysupergirl replied to your post “Walked out of dialysis and got disoriented (#directionallychallenged)...”
Embarrassingly I still do this (I work at my hometown hospital where I was a junior volunteer during high school, did several rotations at and, I've been working as a PA now going on 6 months). Especially when I walk out of elevators. Sometimes I do the "let me pull out my cell phone and pretend like someone just texted me to meet them and that's why I got turned around" thing.
Oh dear hahahahahahha
At my base hospital, they make all the floors look pretty much the same and in the center of the two wings is the computers... I always walked the wrong way.,.. :/
@belis86 replied to your post “Walked out of dialysis and got disoriented (#directionallychallenged)...”
Hospitals are mazes.
FOR REAL. At every hallway where there are too many halls, I stand there and squint.
@simplysupergirl replied to your post “I have night ICU call tonight!”
You got this!
Thank you! The night was super busy! It was ridiculous!
@md-admissions replied to your post “Had a rapid response yesterday when I was in the ICU… I forgot that...”
you are my hero
Hi. I wonder if you would consider a comission for a Whitcher story. Around 2000 words may be suitable length but I am flexible and happy to cover the cost of longer piece if it works for the story. The subject would be Witcher experimenting with a potion or similar to make his heart beat faster so that he can feel more human. Maybe with help from someone else. It goes badly wrong, triggering meories from the trials and also severe physical consequences.
Hi there! Ngl, it’s been so long since I actually used Tumblr on a browser I’d forgotten I still had that page up and set to “open”, because I really meant to close it a long time (talking a few years) ago. You’re the first person to take me up on it and I decided in the end I wasn’t comfortable doing fic commissions, but I would still consider art.
That said, I do like this prompt and it’s something I would likely consider just writing anyway, but it would be on my own time and at my own length. If you’re okay with that, keep an eye on @cardiaccadillac over the next couple of months in the “my fic” tag.
To Keep From Sinking (15/15)
And it’s finished! This is the final chapter, with the list twice a week session between Sherlock and his doctor, when they discuss him going back to consulting. It’s kind of meant to end on the note of “there’s still a lot to work on” because that’s the way it is with treatment for mental illness: it’s an ongoing process, so it’s not meant to sound completely finished. But anyway, I hope belis86 and all the rest of you have enjoyed it, as I have enjoyed writing it.
Chapter 15
He went to his session today, a bit apprehensive. Dr. O’Toole had said that today they would discuss the option of him moving to weekly sessions instead of having two sessions a week, as he was doing quite well. But he wasn’t as sure he was. He knew the cognitive therapy was progressing well; he was finding it easier to cope with the things he had done and the flashbacks when they cropped up, the momentary lapses when he was somewhere else. The startling and stuff was also easier to take. His relationships with his friends had also improved, as had his relationship with Mycroft. He was slowly working on his relationship with his parents; he had the feeling that would take more time, but continued sessions with Dr. O’Toole would help, he knew that.
But he was still trying to figure out what to do with his future as a consulting detective. The fact that they were going to move to once a week sessions was a promising sign that he could go back to doing something in terms of employment soon. Whether it was consulting or something else, he didn’t know, but he could move along with his life again soon and it was something to look forward to.
He settled in the waiting room until he was called into Dr. O’Toole’s office. He moved to his preferred seat and sat down, tapping his foot a bit. Dr. O’Toole looked at him. “I’d have thought you’d be more relaxed, all things considered,” she said.
“I suppose the fact that you think I’m well enough to move to once weekly sessions and possibly go back to consulting has left me pondering if I want to do that,” he said, moving his arms to place his elbows on the arms of the chair and steepled his fingers together in front of his face. “I’m not entirely sure I should go back to that, all things considered.”
Dr. O’Toole nodded. “That is completely understandable. But you do know you don’t need to make a decision now, don’t you?”
Sherlock nodded. “One of the things we’ve talked about is taking my time to do things instead of being in a rush, to slow my mind and my thoughts. But this...this is something I feel I need to make a decision about sooner rather than later.”
Dr. O’Toole tilted her head slightly. “Well, we could do a shortened therapy session and focus on this issue, as it is one that is looming in your mind,” she said. “And if we spend the whole session talking about it, so be it. The point of your treatment is to allow flexibility in it, to do what is best for you.”
“Thank you,” he said.
Read the rest @ AO3!
To Keep From Sinking (14/15)
And the last of the Sherlock character chapters! This is the chapter with Molly (in essence, I saved one of the best for last), and while it’s a very sweet chapter it also sets up the question of just what is Sherlock going to do when he’s gotten more in control of his head? Does he want to go back to his cases? Does he want to focus on just science? It’s something he’s been wrestling with and it’s something he’ll have more of an answer to in his last chapter which, fingers crossed, I will post tomorrow (they’re doing improvements in the section of my complex where I normally sit to use the internet s I have no idea how much time I will spend posting fic and whatnot tomorrow). But please, enjoy this newest chapter everyone (especially belis86)!
Chapter 14
He knew that there was something he had to do before he could do before he could move much further in his treatment. He needed to start making amends with the people he had hurt. He was not one to apologize, he never had been, but he knew he needed to start doing so to the people who deserved them. He started the evening after he and the others had helped his brother dispose of the curios by having a truly honest conversation with his brother than had lasted late into the night. It felt as though it had been one of the first honest conversations they had had since they were young, before the fiasco with their brother. They had given each other apologies, and it felt as though they had truly meant them.
Over the next few weeks he had given others apologies as well: John, Mary, Lestrade, Sally, Stamford, Anthea...even Anderson had merited an apology, and it had even been sincere. But for some reason, even though he kept in her company, he found it hard to deliver an apology to one he felt deserved it most of all, to Molly. He didn’t know why, but apologizing to her was harder than it was to anyone else.. He had hurt her in ways he felt that he almost didn’t deserve forgiveness for, to be honest. She was one of the few people who had given him unconditional kindness even as he had spurned it, and as he worked through things he realized how precious that was and how horrible he had been to treat her the way he had.
He had asked her to meet him after one of his sessions at her favorite restaurant near Barts, The Fable. They’d just gotten their orders and he was picking at his beer-battered haddock & chips with the mushy peas and tartare sauce while she was eating her Thai coconut curry and basmati rice with prawns. After a moment she stopped eating and looked at him, frowning slightly. “Sherlock? What is it?”
“I have something I need to tell you,” he said, looking up at her.
Her eyes widened slightly. “You don’t…?” she asked.
He shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I like you, Molly, but I don’t fancy you.”
She let out a sigh of relief. “Oh, I’m glad for that,” she said, going for more of her food. “I like being your friend, Sherlock, but...I don’t fancy you anymore. I mean, we’re good as friends. I’m not sure we’d be good as anything else. Maybe, but...I don’t know.”
He nodded, appreciating her honesty. “Well, what I have to talk to you about is about us, but it’s not that,” he said. “You’ve been a good friend, and I have...not been, not always. I feel bad about that.”
“It’s all right, Sherlock,” she said, reaching over to pat his hand. “You don’t need to apologize.”
Read the rest @ AO3!
To Keep From Sinking (13/15)
And now, here is Mycroft’s last appearance! I figured I would end their interactions on a high note, with what could have been an ugly scenario instead not being one because the brothers talked about it instead. Plus, you know, showing that Mycroft is also not above actually getting help and working through issues, and showing that what works for Sherlock doesn’t necessarily work for Mycroft. So belis86 and everyone else, I hope you enjoy this chapter. Hopefully I can write chapter 14 tonight and post it tomorrow, and then the final chapter on Sunday and the fic will be finished (I hadn’t expected to be in so much pain and be quite so depressed this week).
Chapter 13
Some sessions went well, others...did not. And today’s session had gone worse that he had expected. He knew his brother had agreed that he could be completely honest with Dr. O’Toole about all matters, not just on the Moriarty and Magnussen issues, but about other issues as well, if needed. Today they had touched on his childhood and he had found himself balking on talking about the incident with his brother’s twin in depth. He just couldn't. He wasn’t ready.
He stalked back to Mycroft’s home in a foul mood. He wasn’t at all surprised to see Mycroft in the sitting room waiting for him, and so he sneered at him. “Big brother playing Big Brother?” he asked, flopping into a chair.
Mycroft turned from his position at the mantle and looked at his younger brother. “She wanted to talk about Sherrinford today,” he said quietly.
Sherlock found himself tapping his feet for a moment. He needed to move. Being in the room with the man who was such a spitting image of the one person who Sherlock had thought had cared, the one who hadn’t, was more than he could take. He sprung up out of the seat and began to move about the room. “I couldn’t do it,” he said, moving his hands about. Not wildly; he still had some control, some grip over his emotions. Dr. O’Toole had worked with him on controlling his emotions better and he was trying so hard right now. “Moriarty and Magnussen, I can talk about them in a clinical and detached way. What they caused me to go through...maybe a little less so. But Sher...” He found himself unable to finish his brother’s name, and he paused at the end table, gripping the side. “I can’t.”
“Anthea replaced all the valuables in the room with curious fobbed off on me by unimportant diplomats over the years,” Mycroft said quietly. “Every breakable item in this room is expensive, of course, but utterly worthless to me. Shatter them to your hearts content.”
He stared at his brother. “What are you talking about?” he asked.
Mycroft moved over to the sofa. “My therapist has found that moving my therapy to a private gymnasium and incorporating sparring sessions and workouts with punching bags seemed to do the trick,” he said. “Apparently I have a great deal of aggression I’ve kept trapped deep down for quite a few years. Some of it has been directed at you, of course, but a great deal of it has been at other targets. Working through it has helped. And there’s been the added bonus that I’ve dropped just over a stone.”
Sherlock looked his brother up and down. It was true; Mycroft did look thinner. And he had noticed he seemed to have a much more almost Zen state about him. “What makes you think this will help me?” he asked.
“My own therapist suggested it. At the very least, he thought it couldn’t hurt,” he said. “Besides, it gives me an excuse to get rid of all these God awful curious cluttering up my attic space.” He gestured to the little porcelain trinkets on the table. “Let it out.”
Sherlock wrapped his hand around a small green porcelain vase and picked it up off the table. “He shouldn’t have told Mum and Dad the secrets I told him,” he said, taking the vase and tossing it onto the floor, watching it break upon impact. He had to admit, it felt good seeing it.
“He told a great many secrets he shouldn’t have,” Mycroft said, picking up a blue figurine of a milkmaid and tossing it against the wall. “He nearly cost me my post.”
Sherlock was surprised by that. “I never knew that,” he said.
Read the rest @ AO3!
To Keep From Sinking (12/15)
And here’s John’s last appearance! It’s after his first session of therapy, which I thought was appropriate considering how the last chapter ended, and I think it’s one that shows Sherlock is willing to change and that he realizes he needs it. But even though the fic is almost over, I promise I will show it’s not always a smooth road, as the next chapter with his brother will prove. But enjoy this one for mow, belis86 and everyone else!
Chapter 12
The afternoon after the first cognitive therapy session Sherlock had indeed felt disquieted. He had wanted to distance himself from his friends but John had said if he was wanted he’d meet up with him at Hyde Park with Catherine. S he left Dr. O’Toole’s office and got in a can and made his way to the spot where they usually met, seeing John and his goddaughter waiting for him there. When he got closer he saw John had two hot drinks and he offered one up to him.
“I’m rather surprised your brother agreed to let you out and all,” John said once Sherlock said down on the bench next to him.
“I’m sure my detail is...” Sherlock said, scanning the crowd and then nodding to a man nearby. “Right over there.” He took a sip of his coffee. Two sugars, just how he liked it. “I suppose he has a competent therapist now, who told him when I began this portion of my treatment that I would need some latitude in my freedom of movement. Or perhaps my own doctor strong-armed him into it.”
“Maybe.” John took a sip of his own drink. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Sherlock lowered his up and looked at it a moment. “I was not...am not...a very nice man, John. It’s by the grace of what you’ve written about me, how you’ve portrayed me to others, that’s I’ve come off as a good man, but I’m not, not really.” John opened his mouth to disagree but Sherlock shook his head. “Let me finish.”
“All right.”
“I haven’t needed to start therapy, this therapy to see that. I’ve gotten better, I know that. Maybe I’m a better man, but I don’t think I’m a wholly good one. But perhaps I can be, some day.”
John watched Catherine pull up blades of grass in her fist in front of them. “Do you know what Greg told me once?” he said, looking over at Sherlock. “He said ‘Sherlock Holmes is a great man, and I think one day – if we’re very lucky – he might even be a good one.’ I’m thinking we all might be living to see that day now.”
Read the rest @ AO3!
To Keep From Sinking (11/?)
So I am bound and determined to try and finish this one as soon as possible for belis86, who has been quite patient. I have never actually gone through cognitive therapy myself that I can remember well enough to write, so I’m not going to focus on the therapy sessions, but I wanted to have a chapter focusing on Sherlock and his doctor, and then I figured I would have one more chapter each with John, Molly and Mycroft, and then one more chapter with his doctor to wrap the story up. So this is a chapter where they discuss Sherlock’s hesitancy to start the therapy portion of his treatment.
Chapter 11
After a few weeks on the medication, he knew they were going to start the cognitive therapy. He was nervous the night before the session; he found that even with the help of his medication for insomnia he had a hard time sleeping that evening. He was night in the best of moods when he arrived at Dr. O’Toole’s office for his afternoon session. He sat down in the comfortable chair across from her, slouching more than he normally did, and set his arm on the sides of it.
She looked at him, raising an eyebrow at him. “Sherlock, you don’t seem to be in the best of moods,” she remarked.
“Horrid night’s sleep,” he said.
“Do we need to increase your prazosin?” she asked.
He shook his head before bringing his hands in front of his face and steepling his fingers together. “I...know the cognitive therapy is the next step,” he said slowly. “That it’s part of the most effective therapy to best deal with my issues, the PTSD and the depression. But I’m...nervous.”
Dr. O’Toole was quiet for a moment. “The whole point in treatment is to move at a pace that comfortable for you. Is this something that would be too uncomfortable for you, to face those moments in your past that caused you to go down the path you did?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “And I don’t like not knowing. I don’t like not knowing if looking at all the various things I have done in my past will push me over the edge again, send me running back to not caring, or worse. Send me back to old habits.”
Read the rest @ AO3!
