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skyloftian-nutcase · 11 months

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Aww, now I want to see more stuff with HC Wind and Four! 🥰

- 🛵

Four bit his lip as his confused patient yet again tried to climb out of the bed. Thankfully he had soft restraints to help him stay put, as he was so confused he had already torn all his clothes off and woke up in a frenzy at nearly five minute intervals at this point (thank heaven the shift was almost over). The man had meningitis, had no idea what the heck was happening, and was on blood thinners, so the instant he got out of bed, he would probably stumble a few steps and then immediately fall and get a head bleed.

So it was fairly important to ensure he didn't leave the bed.

"Hey Toru," he called loudly, as the elderly patient was partly deaf, placing a calming hand on the man's shoulder.

"Geuh buhb huh??" the patient slurred and grumbled, staring at him with wide, bewildered eyes.

"You're safe," Four explained, feeling his chest rumble in warning as he continued loudly, "You're in the hospital. You're in the ICU. I'm your nurse. You're very sick, so it's important that you stay in the bed, okay?"

The patient settled with another disjointed garbled set of words, allowing Four a moment to sniffle back some phlegm and stifle another cough. He only had the remains of a bad cold, and he was wearing a mask to ensure he didn't share the germs with anyone, but he was long overdue for a coughing fit and a box of tissues.

If he could leave the room long enough to do that.

The patient started to climb out of bed once more, and Four sighed, immediately walking back to him and trying to soothe him. "Toru. You're in the hospital. You're safe. I'm your nurse, I'm here to take care of you. You're very sick--"

His words choked off with a violent urge to cough, and he managed to step back enough to hack into his mask a few times.

Then he had to laugh. Yeah, he's sick and so am I. Feels like the blind leading the blind in here.

"Uh, Four? You good?"

Glancing back, Four saw Wind staring at him hesitantly in the doorway. When he looked back at his patient with a sigh, he saw that the man had once more stripped off his gown and blankets, and his legs were half over the side rail as he laid there in confusion.

"Yeah. You wanna help me get him resituated?"

Wind bit back a snort. "Sure. Maybe you should just hop in with him, you sound kind of rough."

"I'm not that bad," Four grumbled as the pair helped the man get back in bed. Four started to talk him through the steps before he had to step away to cough again.

Wind took pity on him, taking over and explaining to the patient. The younger man's louder voice helped, and within a few minutes the patient was appropriately dressed and covered and resting.

Four thanked Wind, who smiled cheerily. "No problem! Hey, do you work again tonight?"

"No, I'm off."

"Oh thank goodness," Wind sighed in relief. "I was about to say there's an open bed next door if you need it."

"Ha ha ha," Four deadpanned. "Guess that means we can't get together tonight with your telescope."

Wind gasped. "Hey, now! You're not that sick, and you promised to do some star charting with me when we were both off!"

Four laughed. "See? Even you're saying I'm not that sick."

Wind opened his mouth to protest and realized his mistake. Then he grumbled, "That was a trap."

"And you fell right into it."

Rolling his eyes, the respiratory therapist nodded towards Four's patient. "Well enjoy it for now, because he's crawling out of the bed again."

Four sighed heavily. Thirty more minutes to day shift.

#you ask skye answers #lovely scooter anon #lu in healthcare #lu wind #lu four #I feel like Four likes collecting and learning and tallying things #Wind likes sea charts and the like because of his game #so they could bond over stargazing and charting things #also I had to laugh at my situation when I would tell my patient he's sick and then step away to cough up a lung #very glad I'm not on Confused Patient Babysitting Duty tonight #writing

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todayisafridaynight · 2 months

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sorry if you've already been asked this but what did you think about eiji in iw? like idk i feel like they were trying to recreate a masato and ichi moment without actually having any of the elements that made their relationship narratively compelling.

as a whole, i thought eiji was at least a nice 'how he wished things couldve been' for ichi in regards to masato, but still being independent enough from the masato comparison to stand on his own as a character (or at least as an antagonist. his actions wasn't what was reminding me he was a masato parallel, but more so ichi's insistence he help him). i think thats why ichi and eiji's relationship don't have the same 'elements' that make their relationship interesting like masato and ichi's

#iw spoilers #not really but lol #snap chats #like what made masato and ichi interesting was their family dynamic and how they were narrative foils to each other #eiji isn't supposed to be that. both in-universe and meta wise he's just meant to remind ichi of masato not wholly replace him #and not replace who masato was in ichi's life. just yk. trick him for a bit fJALKAJ #i mean sure you can still find their relationship uninteresting with that in mind so just to me i thought it was cute at the very least #at least in that you can see ichi trying his hardest to connect with eiji #like you can tell he just doesn't want history to repeat even if he's mostly projecting his fears onto eiji #and the situation is not. equivocal LMAO but i digress #i don't feel strongly about eiji one way or another- i mean i liked how it was easy to tell he was going to be an antagonist vjlKJAJ #i dont mind that kind of thing though. i like being able to pick up on things being Not Right with a character or situation #so it was neat seeing how that culminated. still confused on what he was blackmailing chitose with but i assume it's family related #sometimes i think about how beau says eiji and ebina were meant to be rgg feeling bad about killing aoki and it makes me chortle vjalkvjla #anyway thats the end of my eiji prattle. oh ps i like how he actually had a chair that doesnt look painful to sit in #veyr cringe he turned out Not to be disabled but listen if i start talking about masato's disability again im gonna lose my mind #as i frantically close my thirty tabs about lung diseases/conditions and lung transplants and patients' anecdotes post operation

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thefactsofthematter · 3 months

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so in the fit centre at my school, there’s this big whiteboard that updates every week with a new workout, and it’s currently pride week on campus, so they decided to do a themed set

including hits like: “pansexual lunges”, “drag queen deadlifts”, and my personal favourite, “everyone has the right to love burpees”

#like. huh???#they’re a little confused but they got the spirit ig #pansexual lunges is so funny to me….. you couldn’t even alliterate??

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seungkwan-s · 1 year

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i thought i would update you guys on my granny's condition. so, we found out, she was misdiagnosed. she's prone to fluid in her lungs and the nurses admitted they should have read her notes properly because they saw that and assumed it was cancer. which is honestly horrific and my step dad is angry that we all went through a lot of unnecessary stress and hurt :(

i'm honestly relieved that it's not cancer but still angry that this went on for weeks :(

she will hopefully be out of hospital in the next few weeks <3

#hev.txt #i get mistakes happen but misreading someone's notes??#her notes didn't say cancer they just said she's prone to having fluid in her lungs #when my step dad asked the doctor on friday about the cancer they were confused and asked what cancer? and that's how we found out......#i'm still stressed honestly i've been worried and struggling with this for weeks :(#so excited to give her a big hug when she's ready <33 #cancer tw

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shivunin · 1 year

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Through the Window

CW: Near death experience

(Here is the song Hawke is singing in the second scene c:)

Healing Hawke had taken several hours and what seemed like years off of Anders’ life.

As far as Fenris was concerned, they were years better spent, but he wisely kept that opinion to himself. The mage had staggered off to sleep in a spare bedroom perhaps an hour ago, and the others, for various reasons, had also gone away one by one. Varric had left to ensure the nobility wouldn’t be a problem for Hawke until she was ready to face them; Merrill had said something vague about herbs and gone away soon after. Aveline had never shown up, not that anyone was surprised given the state of Kirkwall, and Sebastian had gone to the Chantry for a change of clothing—as his things were still covered in Hawke’s blood.

And Isabela—Isabela had managed perhaps an hour in this room, the shortest of all of them. Fenris could not blame her for leaving. Every single time Hawke had woken, her first words had been “Bela? Did they take her?” as if she remained stuck in the moment of the Arishok’s death, certain the other Qunari would take her friend regardless of what Hawke did.

Isabela had managed a joke each time, but the jokes had become more wooden, then more quiet, and at last she’d retreated to the sitting room below with a bottle of strong rum.

Fenris had told the rest that he would watch over her; that he could manage well enough by himself. This was true, but he was not watching her at the moment. Instead, he sat before the window, looking out at the destruction in the city. Dawn was rising now, lighting the clouds of smoke in bands of pink and lilac. How strange, that something so horrible should be remade into something beautiful.

How strange that the morning should dawn as it always had after such pain and death.

“Fen…ris?” Hawke said from the bed behind him.

Fenris did not turn at once. He stayed slumped in the chair, looking down at the city. If he was going to speak to her, he would need to school his expression first—and he knew he could not yet manage to do that.

“Ah,” she said, very quietly, “As…leep.”

Her breath sounded like it hurt; there was a faint whistle to it, high-pitched and strained. Fenris closed his eyes and clamped his lips together. He would need to stand in just a moment; stand and tend to her. As soon as he could keep himself in check. As soon as he could—

“I’m…glad…it was…you,” she said, and her sigh crackled through the air, “I…loved you…you know.”

Fenris’s hands curled hard around the arms of the chair, knuckles standing out paler than his tattoos. She thought him asleep; she would not say such a thing to him waking. He could not stand now; could not show her he’d heard. It would be…would be…

“I’m…glad…you stayed…” this time, her breath dragged in her throat, as if she couldn’t quite manage it, and Fenris sat up in alarm.

“...can...be…happy…someday…” she said, and didn’t seem to notice that he’d scraped the chair back from the window, nor that he was gripping her hand and bending over the bed.

“Hawke,” he said urgently, “Hawke. Look at me.”

The corner of her mouth curled faintly, but she was looking past him at the corner of the room. When she took a breath, her chest hardly moved.

“Maria,” Fenris said, squeezing her hand, “Hawke!”

It was no use; he knew that already, and turned for the door.

“Anders!” he bellowed, “ANDERS!”

Thundering footsteps on the stairs; Fenris bent lower over her, cupping her cheek in his hand. She was so cold—yet her pulse still beat in her neck, however thready and weak.

“You stay here,” he ordered her, bending low over her body, “Stay here, do you hear me? Hawke!”

“Move, move,” Anders said, jostling him out of the way. Fenris moved as quickly as he could manage, feeling the tingling of magic already unfurling from the mage’s body.

He could do nothing; only stand here and—

Fenris’s hand, the one he’d used to touch her cheek, curled into a fist at his side. The other reached for the neat bottles of lyrium on the bedside table, shoved one toward the mage.

“Drink,” he said, but he didn’t need to; as soon as he held it out, Anders was taking it, popping out the cork and downing it in one swallow.

Fenris focused past him, where Hawke still lay. Her eyes were open, her mouth still fixed in that horrible half-smile. Breathe, he willed her, moving to the footboard and curling one hand around the post there, Breathe.

Hawke closed her eyes—and gasped.

Six Years Later

Hawke has gone to Weisshaupt now, Varric’s letter had said, and she’s still in one piece. Maybe you’ll catch her on the road. Won’t be too far from Tevinter, right?

Perhaps the dwarf had even believed it—but Fenris had known better.

He stood on the path now, peering past hedges and trees to the cottage tucked inside. When they’d chosen this place, he hadn’t understood why. If she wanted to be in Ferelden, why not closer to Lothering or one of the cities? Why here, of all places? Hawke had just shrugged and gone on nailing a board back in place on the wall.

Because it looks like home, she’d said after a moment. That had been the last time she’d spoken of it.

Fenris took a breath, his hand on the cold iron of the gate, and swung it open.

Hawke—or someone—had kept up with the garden. He’d expected it to be overgrown, as it had been the last time he’d been here. Instead, the flowerbeds had been weeded and the bushes beside the path were neatly trimmed back. He ran a hand along one as he walked and then, by force of habit, turned to the right and walked around the house instead of using the front door.

If there had been any doubt in Fenris’s mind that Hawke was here and not somewhere in the mountains, it would have been dispelled as soon as he rounded the corner and heard her voice.

“Ay, quién pudiera/Besarlos más,” her voice sang, trailing from the open kitchen window. Fenris braced a hand on the side of the house beneath and just—listened, for a moment. Her voice was sweet—he’d heard it before, more here than he’d ever heard it in Kirkwall—but she’d never sung this song for him.

And—how long had it been since he’d heard her voice? Six months, a year? How long since he’d seen her face?

It was too much all of a sudden; the sunlight, the birdsong, the buzz of insects in the garden. Her voice, so near and yet still distant. Fenris discarded his pack right there and headed for the back door, his feet speeding up as he went. He moved silently, now, used to staying quiet until he wanted to be heard, but her song cut off when the back door slammed shut behind him.

“Hello?” Hawke called warily, and Fenris stepped into the kitchen.

They stared at each other for a moment, Fenris breathing hard, Hawke holding a spoon with some sort of batter slowly falling into the bowl below.

“Fenris,” she said, his name all but a gasp, and dropped the spoon. It splattered something onto her dress—white, embroidered around the neckline—though she did not seem to notice it. She took one step out from behind the counter, then another, and one hand moved to her chest.

“Are you really here?” she said. Fenris could see her pulse racing at the base of her neck, the way she braced herself on the counter as if she didn’t trust her own legs.

He nodded once, words momentarily beyond him. She took another step, then another, her eyes wide and wondering.

He’d thought—the note she left had been terse. He’d thought she had wanted to leave him behind. But the way she was looking at him now—

All at once, Hawke flung herself at him, her arms wrapping tight around his waist.

“You’re here,” she said, over and over again, “You’re here. You came back; you’re here.”

“I—yes,” Fenris said. He’d lifted his hands when she came close, but he set them on her shoulders now, carefully and slowly. Her curls tickled his neck, loose as they were, and she smelled like bread and herself—anise and sweetness and smoke and how had he forgotten—

“I’m so glad,” she said, pulling away enough to look at him without letting go of his waist, “I’ve missed you. So much, Fenris.”

“But you left,” he said, and his hand rose without his permission, knuckles brushing over the curve of her cheek, “You didn’t tell me where you were going. You left.”

“I didn’t want to…” she sighed, her eyes tracing his face over and over again, lingering on new scars, “Your hair is…different.”

“Yes,” he said, lifting a hand to touch the shaven side of his head, “and you—it was a bad fight, then?”

He nodded to her neck, scarred in a strange pattern of whorls and lines. Hawke let go of him to touch the ridged skin, then turned away, back to the table and bowl.

“Yes,” she said, “It was. Do you…I was just about to bake a cake. Do you…want tea?”

This was not going as he’d expected. Fenris moved to brush off his armor by force of habit and touched the sticky dough she’d left behind, the smears of flour.

“...yes,” he said after a moment, “Do—”

He caught the cloth she tossed him, wiped himself clean, and braced his hands against the counter opposite her. Maria avoided his eyes, and she’d moved her hair to cover her neck. A bad wound, then; in that part of the neck, it would have been.

And she’d left him behind to receive it alone.

“Where did you go?” he asked.

Hawke bit her lip and poured the batter into a pan, then tapped it against the counter twice.

“Lots of places,” she told him, “Everywhere, really. Orlais, Ferelden, the Frostbacks.”

When she walked away to slide the pan into the oven, he saw that she was barefoot. What was it she’d told him back in Kirkwall all those years ago, drifting off to sleep together in her bed? Ah, yes.

I want a home where I can wander around barefoot, she’d said. I want to pick berries right off the bush and eat them till my stomach aches. I want to fill the house with laughter and music and sweetness, and I don’t want to think about death or duty ever again.

Fenris ignored the clutching feeling at his chest and curled his fingers around the wood of the counter.

“Hawke,” he said, chiding, as he had a hundred, a hundred hundred times before.

The scars along her neck were not the only ones; there were more along the side of her calf and around one wrist. There were burns, too, over her back; he could see the shiny edges of them in the sunlight pouring through the open window.

It wasn’t that Fenris had really wanted to know where she’d gone. All those nights since he’d come back here and found her note, he’d really wondered—

“Why? Why not wait for me?”

“It was urgent,” she said, her back still to him, “Stroud…said it couldn’t wait.”

“Then why not tell me where you’d gone?”

He’d had enough of distance; Fenris strode into the kitchen and stopped before her, standing where she could not help but see him. Maria pursed her lips.

“Why?” he said again, standing close enough to touch but leaving both hands to hang at his sides.

“I didn’t want…” she sighed, twining her fingers through the kitchen cloth she held, “It was my problem. I didn’t want you to be forced to follow me into another one of my—”

“Forced?” Fenris interrupted, scowling, “What do you mean?”

She would have looked away from him again, but he set his hand along her cheek and held her gaze.

“Hawke,” he said, “Tell me.”

Her breath shook when she drew it in, but her fingertips brushed over his.

“We both made promises,” she said quietly, “I…didn’t want you to think you were bound by them when you had other things, more important things—”

“Bound—Hawke, what are you—”

Ah.

Yes. He knew the answer even before he finished asking the question; it was in the angle of her eyes, the tightness at the corners of her mouth. More than that, the answer was in her fingertips and the magic that hummed there sometimes, though it was quiescent now.

What has magic touched that it does not spoil, he’d said to her once in a moment of pique. She’d always been so careful; never ordered him to do things, always asked, forever cautious not to remind him of the days before they’d known each other.

Fenris might have told her long ago that Hawke might be a mage, but she was nothing like the magisters he’d known. If he doubted her in the slightest, he would have walked away long ago. Did she think he didn’t know exactly who she was, down to her very bones?

“I didn’t want you to be trapped,” she said, and took another breath, “I…love you, Fenris. I always have. But I won’t hold you here when you don’t want to be held. Explaining what I was doing would have forced you to help; I know you too well to think otherwise. If you thought I was in danger—you would have left what you wanted to do behind. That wasn’t fair. You left because you had to and—I couldn’t make that choice for you. I wouldn’t.”

The words came too quickly; they collided with each other, trapped in his throat, and trying to clear it had no effect. Fenris held her instead, wrapping one arm around her waist and backing her toward the counter. Hawke moved with him readily, her face tilted up and watching.

She’d never told him she loved him before; not waking, not in so many words.

Fenris didn’t kiss her—not yet—but his mouth skimmed her cheek, the edge of her ear. He spoke there, where she could not help but hear him, where she could not be distracted by looking for answers in his face.

“Listen to me,” he told her, “You did make the choice for me—by not allowing me the information to follow you. I do not choose you because I must or because you have forced me to, Hawke. I stay because I cannot imagine wanting to be anywhere else; needing to leave for a time does not change that. Not for a moment.”

Fenris could feel her breath against his ear, uneven and labored. He did kiss her now, on her jaw, her cheekbone, the soft skin over her temple.

“You,” he said, cradling her face and pulling back to look at her, “I told you I would follow where you lead. I meant it then and I mean it now. Let me choose that for myself.”

Hawke closed her eyes. Fenris kissed the delicate skin of her eyelids and tasted salt.

“Do you believe me?” he said.

“You aren’t mad?” she asked, “I thought you would be…If you came back, I thought you would be angry with me.”

“I am,” he said, “There is plenty to say about that later. I never want you to do that again. But now…I find I am grateful just to have you here. I am certain I will find time for anger later.”

Maria laughed, as he’d meant her to, and at least lifted her face to be kissed.

They stood there in the sunlight for a long, long time, touching and being touched, holding and being held. After a year or more, Fenris was, at last, precisely where he wanted to be.

The badly burned cake, when they finally ate it much later, was covered in fresh berries and honey, and it was very nearly perfect.

(Day Fourteen of @14daysdalovers, which was a free choice. I, of course, chose a little pain and a little sweetness. Thanks to the organizers of the event! I've had a blast and it was really cool to see all the neat stuff others have made. Happy Valentine's Day, y'all!)

#14dalovers #14dalovers2023 #day 14 #maria hawke #fenris #fenris dragon age #fenhawke #fenris x hawke #my writing #the second piece is after inquisition idk if i got the timeline quite right but i always get confused #this is my answer to the 'fenris would have killed himself to protect me' or w/e thing she says in inquisition #if she felt like she was forcing him to stay with her (and maria could talk herself into thinking that) then she would have left that way #ALSO hay unos ojos is her 'thinkin about fenris' song #she got day drunk the day after he took off and sang it at the top of her lungs with her feet on the bed and her back on the floor #poor bodahn and sandal and orana #god idk if this is actually well edited or not but i am STARVING and i need to get lunch lol. so uh good luck.#shivunin scrivening

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tiastoleyourtoast · 9 months

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hey bro i love ur content B) tell your right lung i said hi (shes an old friend of mine)

i mean of course uh

how do you know my right lung why her specifically but like uh i will

she says hi back

#ask tia #doodle #right lung #lung #im so confused what

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flunkyofmalcador · 9 months

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Now here's something to have mixed feelings about. The American Veterans' Administration is now providing gender-affirming care.

Yes, we're talking about the industrial-capitalistic American death machine. Which I've been a part of and still both love and hate. (Mostly hate.) I'm wondering if this is yet another ploy to keep recruitment numbers up because--face it, that's one hell of an incentive.

I've been referred to the Gender Affirmation clinic at my local VA and am going to start the process to get these 36Ds of mine removed. I'll let people know what the experience is like.

#veterans administration #top surgery #I left my lungs in Afghanistan #Payest me what thou owest me #deboobification #trans win! The American death machine now provides gender affirming care #and I'm so confused

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nayruwu · 2 years

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i love consequences so

... take my post-VR shinya that i gave copd and right heart failure because you cannot tell me dying and being revived twice would leave someone in perfect health. + my beloved worrywart

#i think i gave the others vocal cord paralysis but i haven't done that much research on it #yknow since their heads were cut.... so their throats are affected........#shinya got his heart and lungs messed up because <3 #btw i HATE gurens face here. you dont have to tell me i know it looks hella weird but i couldn't get it right no matter what i did #also i didn't know what clothes to put him in so he got the calico cat cardigan once again #if anyone wants to adopt these consequence hcs go ahead i would enjoy it #shinya is not used to affection so hes a little confused ok.#owari no seraph #seraph of the end #shinya hiiragi #guren ichinose #gureshin #art stuff #my neck hurts so bad and i dont even like this that much pls #it's about the concept ok.#that is a nasal cannula btw it helps deliver oxygen

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rearranging-deck-chairs · 2 years

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boy off his last hinge <3

#sorry im watching 12x10 for a video forgot i have a crush on him #'the planet formerly known as gallifrey'#sooo much going on in his head look at him #thank u mr dhawan #i once described him in a fic as like.............someone whos been taught crynig as a foreign language #and got his idioms mixed up somewhere between his lungs and his mouth #i stand behind that #look at him #his emotions are so beautifully confused

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autisticlenaluthor · 2 years

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supercorp au where kara and lena become friends bc they're the only ppl under 70 in the cardiologist waiting room

#also consider: the gi doctor #or the rheumatologist #or whatever the lung doctor is called #all old ppl at the lung doctor #i went to one once and she was very confused abt why I was there #so was i #my lungs were fine #except for the stuff they found in my lungs that was Not Fine

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soryualeksi · 2 years

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Okay, so. I'm ALL for not spreading, you know, deadly fucking disease to your fellow human beings, but WHAT is it with people, like, pretending to not understand the mere concept of a common cold anymore??

I keep being made an unwilling participant in a discussion that goes as follows:

"Hm, I have a cough and a sore throat."

"Oh dear."

"But I keep testing for Covid every day before coming into work."

"That's the responsible thing to do."

"The tests keep coming back negative."

"That's good to hear. Let's hope it stays that way."

Now normally, this would be the end of this extremely awkward sickness-smalltalk that I don't actually wanna know anything about. But no. Then they suddenly double down.

"I don't trust the tests."

"Well, I trust you to have done the tests in the correct manner, so if they keep coming back negative I would assume you don't have Covid."

"But I have a cough and a sore throat."

"Yes, I mean, it could just be a common cold. Those still exist."

"But I've been like this for a week now."

"Colds are like that."

"But also my head hurts a bit."

"Colds do that, too."

"But also I feel kind of tired and ill."

"Yes, that's... Look, I'm sure that before Covid you've had a cold at some point, too?"

"But I don't trust the tests."

AND THEN IT JUST GOES ON LIKE THIS.

WHAT IS BEING EXPECTED OF ME HERE.

;_;

I don't want to invalidate people feeling worried and then I usually say, look, if the ONE blob of nose slime that contains like three little particles for the test to come back positive on, is hidden SO deep within your nasal cavities you can't get it on your swab no matter how hard you poke around there, then even if you HAD Covid - which you don't - I think it's unlikely there'd be enough of the virus in that other little blob of nose slime over there you could possibly fling into the air IF you coughed wetly on the next person without covering your mouth.

Like?? Is this a new kind of social ritual I don't understand??? Are we signaling our place in the "We are mindful of the pandemic" hierarchy by??? Insisting our runny nose must be from Covid and we just cannot detect it AND ALSO IF YOU'RE SO WORRIED THAN WHY ARE YOU AT WORK WHY ARE YOU TELLING ME THAT WHY DO I HAVE TO PARTICIPATE IN THAT

???

I don't wanna have this discussion anymore, I don't know what to say other than "In this case the evidence points to: common cold."

What is the purpose of this discussion, what answer do they want, what am I supposed to provide them. ;_; Please. You probably have a cold. If you feel so shitty that you have to constantly let me know, than maybe you should go get sick leave from your doctor, why are you telling ME, why do you believe that there's no other respiratory infections besides Covid anymore, WHAT DO YOU WANT, and also WHY ARE YOU TRYING TO GIVE *ME* YOUR DISGUSTING-ASS COLD SOB

I'm sorry for ranting, but this keeps happening and I'm TIRED. If you're really, truly worried you are infectious with a nasty disease, then stay the fuck home. And if you're not. Then WHY. Are we having this stupid discussion.

;_;

#I'm so confused and tired #this keeps happening #'my daily tests are negative but my throat is scratchy wow i think I'll pass the fuck up your lungs and blood vessels disease to you'#it's a cold and i don't care about your colds everyone has a scratchy throat this time of the year #if you're ill stay home #if not then don't try to rope me into endless 'but maybe it's covid after all don't you think' discussions #'but i don't get how i can feel under the weather and also my nose is runny' IS THIS A GAME I'M NOT GETTING #sob #it's so stupid to be annoyed about this but it just. keeps. happening.#if you think you'll give our cancer and dialysis patients the death cough than don't come #if you keep testing and nothing comes up and you do the tests right than i still can't help you #YES SOMETIMES YOUR THROAT WILL BE SCRATCHY THAT'S CALLED A COLD IT'S AUTUMN WHY IS THIS MY PROBLEM #maybe they actually want sympathy and 'wow this must be so hard on you'#but also i can't do more than say 'i hope you'll feel better soon and also I'm sure you'll live'#and frankly i don't want to #???#random ranting #soryuchan's personal issues #I'm just tired i don't mind comforting people but the 'my throat is itchy' discussions are getting too much #too. much.

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