#tw malpractice

[imthetruepizzaboyhere]

house wip

[lunarosequarts]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Gravity Falls Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Ford Pines, Fiddleford H. McGucket, Stan Pines Additional Tags: Hospitals, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Sickfic, Nosebleed, Protective Siblings, Protective Ford Pines, Young Ford Pines, Ford Pines Has Issues, Ford Pines is Trying, Stan Pines Needs A Hug, Young Stan Pines, Stan Pines Angst, Stan Pines Has Issues, Mother Hen Ford Pines, Young Ford Pines and Stan Pines, I'm Bad At Tagging, Self-Worth Issues, Bad Hospital Staff, Young Fiddleford H. McGucket, Mother Hen Fiddleford H. McGucket, Good Sibling Ford Pines, Good Sibling Stan Pines, Fiddleford H. McGucket is a Good Friend Series: Part 4 of Bargained For Extras Summary:

Ford had always known in passing thoughts that Stanley had done illegal things while homeless. It was never a question of if, only what things he had done.

But when he gets sick and his nose bleed wont stop, they have to go to the hospital.

Ford wants nothing but the best for Stanley, why can't everyone else?

[serjicalsteel]

TRIGGER WARNING DISCUSSION OF MORTALITY WITH TERMINAL ILLNESS AND WEIGHT LOSS WITH MEDICAL NEGLECT UNDER THE CUT

I hate that im consistently losing weight still even while admitted to the point i don’t recognize myself beyond even just system facial dysmorphia, and my team doesn’t give two flying FyuCks bc due to my FPLD at a glance my face looks healthy.. “overweight” even because of my fat distribution..

but im not okay im not healthy and im not “overweight” even if I was it shouldn’t matter!? I lost 20lbs in 2 weeks.. now i’ve lost almost 5 more since being admitted. I’m so angry I can’t even speak. I’m losing myself to the system again. im so tired. i want to give up.

[sashannarcycanon]

SCALENE & EUCLID

headcanons (part two?)

-Bill inherited his humor and leadership skills from Euclid. He also inherited his temper and his lack of self control.

-Bill inherited his instrumental skills from Scalene. He also inherited her "God Complex" (Let's just say Scalene thinks very HIGHLY of herself) and lack of self-awareness.

-As Bill got older, Euclid and Scalene start getting annoyed when he told them he thinks the doctors/optemerists are trying to do something to him. They're like "Bill, you're getting older. You need to stop being afraid of the doctors. Other people your age don't act like this."

-They spoil Bill a bit too much. Especially when he's sad or angry about something.

-Scalene loved making lullabies for Bill when he was a baby, whether it was a parody or an original one. He can't remember the lyrics now but he can remember the tune.

-Euclid loves taking Bill out to parks and playgrounds and just playing with him in general. Even in public as the mayor of Euclydia.

-When Bill cries after an appointment with the doctors/optometrists (especially when he was a child) they would take him to a restaurant or to the mall. Spoiler alert: It doesn't work. Does he stop crying? Yes. Is he still traumatized from the medical malpractices? Also yes.

-The reason they wanna "get rid" of Bill's mutation is not only because it might risk their reputation but also people could bully him alot and it would hurt them to see their son getting that treatment.

-The last thing they saw before they died was Bill reaching for them as they were burning.

-They really do love him, with all their hearts. They never wanted a normal child, they just wanted their child to have a normal life. It wasn't Bill's fault he has that strange eye, after all.

[mxmorbidmidnight]

It’s scary when you have paralysis and can go paralysed at any moment but you can’t access a wheelchair. If I go paralysed in public like on the sidewalk somewhere?!! I just have to wait there sprawled on the floor. I thought I was just being dramatic but when I mentioned it to my friends they all looked at me really concerned and said “isn’t that really dangerous?”

Answer: yes but doctors don’t care because “it’s all in my head” and “it’s good for me to struggle a bit, it’ll help me get better”.

[chaotic-jjk-fiction]

Do No Harm

Doctor Getou Suguru x reader

TW: General Yandere themes, stalking, obsession, medical setting, injections, IVs, Lying about test results, Masturbation, drugging, kidnapping, mentioned death of readers parents due to cardiac events, murder, and I can’t really sugar coat this... death of reader

A/N: I don’t really think I can call this a valentines day post, but let’s pretend it is! This is probably my darkest fic yet, so reader discretion is heavily advised. Happy late valentines day everyone! 

Word Count: 1.8k

Was it unprofessional? Undeniably. Did he care? Not one bit. How could he be expected to not fall in love with you? He knew intimate details about your body that no one else did, you confided in him, and most importantly, it was his job to care for you. On top of that, the details he was privy to as your doctor made it all too easy for him to grow even closer to you. He knew where you lived, he knew that you were single, he knew that you were an only child, and that both of your parents had died young from sudden cardiac arrest. 

After your first appointment, he knew the two of you had a connection. So what if he ordered some blood work and scheduled a follow-up appointment with you to go over the results even though it was only an intake appointment and there was no clinical indication it was necessary? The number of people who have vitamin deficiencies and don’t know it is quite high. Was it really that bad if your yearly physicals happened twice a year instead of just once? That didn’t seem evil to him, on the contrary actually, he was doing his duty as a healthcare professional and taking your well-being seriously. 

Of course, the repeat blood tests every three months might have been a little bit excessive, especially because you weren’t actually deficient in any vitamins and had no reason to be taking a supplement, but it gave him a reason to see you. Despite the fact that normal lab results were typically discussed on the phone, he couldn’t resist having you come into his office. 

Because of your family's cardiac history, the health of your heart was of great concern. Getou always made sure to perform a thorough cardiac workup at your check-ups. The way you allowed him to listen to your heart and touch the tender flesh on your chest was a delight for him. You were so trusting. Getou would expect nothing less though, he was your doctor after all. As your doctor, one of the hardest things was the uncertainty of whether you would drop dead of a heart attack the same way your parents did, or if you would have no complications at all. At first, this didn’t bother him, but as time passed he found himself obsessing over it more and more. A need for control started to well up inside of him driving him to stock your daily life. 

After one physical where you complained of new-onset chest pain, Getou couldn’t take it anymore. He knew that there was only one thing he could do to ensure his control and guarantee that you wouldn’t suffer. He had really been hoping it wouldn’t have to come to this. He loved you and he wished that you could have loved him too, but it seemed as though that was not in the cards you two had been dealt. 

Due to your chest pain, Getou ordered a two-week continuous heart monitor. The data collected from the monitor wouldn’t change his resolve, but he had another important use for it. After placing it and reminding you numerous times not to remove it or let it fall off before the two weeks mark, he let you go on with your day. Little did you know that you and Getou had not actually parted ways when you left his clinic. 

You had a terrible habit of leaving the door unlocked. Just more proof to him that your chances of living a long life were quite slim. At the same time, it was quite beneficial for him. He loved to slip into your closet and wait for the sounds of your vibrator to fill the room followed by your moans. The lewd sounds you made when you thought you were alone seemed like music to his ears. He always jotted down the date and exact time he heard the vibrator, this information would come in handy soon. 

After two weeks of wearing the heart monitor, you handed it over to Getou who told you it would take another week to analyze the data. This wasn't exactly true though. It would probably only take a few days to check for any arrhythmias, but that was not of interest to him. The data Getou sought was related to that list of dates and times he had collected earlier. By looking over the continuously recorded metrics during the times when you masturbated, he could watch the way your heart rate had spiked, the peaks when you came, and its slow return back to baseline when you had thoroughly pleasured yourself. 

His dick grew hard as he looked at the EKG readings in front of him, remembering the noises of sexual satisfaction you made. He began to rub his cock through his pants as he continued to line up your times of self-pleasure with the information from the heart monitor. Getou could feel the pre-cum leaking out of his tip wetting his trunks. Eventually, he decided to stay on the data from one of your various sessions and allow himself to finish. 

It felt below him to jerk off, but right now he didn’t care. Grabbing a box of tissues, he sat back down and allowed his erection to spring free. He spit into his hand for good measure before slowly starting to stroke his throbbing cock. Due to the prior stimulation and the level of arousal he was feeling, it didn’t take long for Getou to reach his point of climax. What helped push him over the edge, sending ropes of cum into the tissues he got, was the slight drop in heart rate after you orgasmed followed shortly by another spike as you chased that high again. As he wiped off the semen from his dick, he made a mental note to call you first thing tomorrow and schedule your follow-up appointment. 

Only a few days later you were seated in his exam room once again. His face was stern as he looked you in the eyes and lied, “your heart monitor revealed prolonged QT intervals. This is a dangerous arrhythmia that can spontaneously cause ventricular fibrillation which can be fatal.” You sat there stunned, unsure of what to say or how to react. Getou continued, “There is an injection I can give you that should help. If you would like, I can give you the first dose today.” Your brain still hadn’t processed the news you had just received, but you nodded your head before confirming, “yes, I would like to have the first dose today.” “Alright then, I will go grab it if you would like to roll up your sleeve.” 

He came back a few minutes later carrying a tray with the syringe, an alcohol pad, and a bandaid. “I just want to warn you,” Getou cautioned as he put on his gloves, “this injection can cause people to pass out sometimes, so don’t be alarmed if you start to feel dizzy, just lay down and let me know.” You nodded in understanding and tried your best not to flinch when the needle pushed its way into your arm. For the first few minutes after the injection, you felt fine. Getou was able to clean up and dispose of everything, but then the room started to spin. You laid back and your vision started to get spotty, “Doctor Getou” was all you managed to squeak out before everything went black.  

So sweet and trusting. Suguru looked at your unconscious body in the rearview mirror on his windshield, you looked so innocent laid across the backseat of his car. In a different life, he could have had the future he dreamed of with you. As your doctor, however, he was sworn to do what was best for you and to do no harm. In order to abide by these principles, Suguru needed to move you to a different facility where he could do what he deemed necessary. “Don’t worry, darling. Soon you’ll be cured.”

You awoke disoriented. Despite the fact that your eyes were closed, you could tell you weren’t in the clinic anymore. The sensation of an IV in your hand caught your attention and you wondered if you were in the hospital. You didn’t have time to question it for long when you heard Suguru’s voice, “I really don’t know if you can hear me, but I hope you can.” You tried to turn your head in the direction of his voice, but you found yourself unable to move. “The sedatives and paralytics in your IV drip are just enough to keep you from being awake and able to move, but not to the point where you need a ventilator.” You could hear him moving around the room as he continued to talk. “As your doctor, I only want what is best for you, and I know you know this. I love you dearly, but the oath I took when I graduated from medical school comes first.” Your mind was swimming, trying to understand what was happening and what Suguru was going on about.   

He paused for a minute, letting out a heavy sigh “I just want you to know that the data from your heart monitor will forever serve as a reminder of you, and every time I finish to those perfect EKG waves, I’ll be picturing your beautiful face.” You wanted to crawl out of your skin. How could he say that? Your thoughts continued to race. “I think it’s time we say goodbye now.” A feeling of terror consumed you. “I’m glad I was able to create a plan to cure you, not many doctors out there would care enough about their patients to go to the extreme lengths I am going to for you. The best part about this cure is that it is completely painless. One injection of about 30mg of morphine and everything will be better.” His voice sounded almost cheery. 

The next sensation you felt was a needle pricking your inner elbow and viscous liquid being injected slowly into your vein. “There we go, treatment administered.” After disposing of the syringe in the sharps box, he quickly returned to your side. Your skin was turning pale and the heart monitor began to beep as your heartbeat and breathing rate fell dangerously low. He muted the monitor. Nothing was going to disturb the two of you in these final moments. 

He reached for your hand, it felt cold as he held it, gently running his thumb over your knuckles in a soothing motion. You wanted to open your eyes, your mouth, ANYTHING. You wanted to scream. Your brain was becoming too foggy to even remember how screaming worked, even if it did, it wouldn't matter though and you knew that. It was almost like Getou could read your mind, and as your ears started to ring and the world crumbled away, he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, softly cooing, “Shhh. Don't worry, no harm will ever come to you again.”

[a-totally-reasonable-username]

Sometimes I see all these insane (and usually horrible) stories from other disabled people and the imposter syndrome rears it's head and tries to tell me that i should be grateful for never experiencing ableism that bad (i am very aware it is not a competition) but then i remember that time i got overdosed on two separate drugs at once while on a pediatrics ward and sent home because i "was fine". Was told i was being over sensitive and had to find out over a year later by myself that it was actually a really dangerous overdose. That one usually shuts the imposter syndrome right up

[the-star-system-pals]

Keeping a journal helps.

We recovered some memories while watching an interview of a man who'd been through multiple, repeated counts of SA as a child. Something his predator said to him, was something said to us as well. We just. Didn't remember it. Our situation was almost the same, both in the hand placement and words said. We don't remember anything but the feeling, and someone saying the words to us. Being frozen. We don't remember when or where or who. Not a single identifying detail.

Anyways. Whoever was fronting wrote in the journal about the memory recovery and trigger.

We wanted to remember more, and now we are. Just forgot to think about, y'know, the emotional effects of recovering memories. Especially without our therapist being available for an unknown period of time. It's been months at this point since we've seen her. It's out of her control, she's having health issues due to medical neglect by the local hospital. That place has been sued twice for malpractice. Love that. One time they cut off the wrong leg! Actually. Maybe not that far? But they were at fault for a local here to lose his leg when he went in just for a toe amputation. They kept failing to take care of his wounds so they kept having to cut off parts. Toe, then the foot at the ankle, and then the leg at like the shin, and then above the knee. That was one of the cases in the second malpractice suit. We knew that guy.

Anyways uh. Didn't mean to actually just throw all of that up but! I just type what pops into my head so whatever. I'll just tag for triggers there.

The point of this post: Keeping a journal to track moods and triggers and just write about your day is really helpful when you're a system or have memory issues in general. Even if it's nothing you think of any real uhhh consequence? Just writing about this or that, writing what pops into your noggin, is good. It's helped us keep our moods stable too, I think. Been absolutely vital since our therapist had to take medical leave.