Nursing resignation letter
For nursing student hopefuls
2016.05.31 01:37 TorchIt For nursing student hopefuls
Thinking of going into nursing? Currently taking Microbiology? Anxiously awaiting your acceptance letter? Drop by and chat with friendly folks who can relate.
2015.06.04 20:23 Fédération Internationale de Football Association
This subreddit was designed to be a place to discuss the international governing body of association football, futsal, and beach soccer. That international governing body is FIFA. The acroynym 'FIFA' stands for *Fédération Internationale de Football Association*. FIFA is known to be a corrupt governing body. They have recently been accused of accepting bribes and kickbacks, among others.
2024.06.02 09:13 treeh9m5 How can I go about sending an immediate resignation letter? I feel really bad about it.
Hi all. I have been working at a library for 6 months under my city. Unfortunately I need to quit immediately because I don’t feel safe there anymore after a male library patron has taken it upon himself to make me his target. Long story short, he has a criminal record for being violent, found my social medias and phone number and harassed me via text despite me politely rejecting him but for some reason he didn’t believe me when I said I have a boyfriend. This has been going on since January, but I tried to let it go since I couldn’t afford to quit my job. My breaking point with him was this Friday when he was using a computer (the section of the library where I work) and was getting upset when something wasn’t working and he decided to point directly at me and tell me repeatedly that “its my fault” his computer wasn’t working and that I was doing this to him. I didn’t include every single detail (which I can if anyone cares) but ultimately I was like yeah… this man isn’t okay and I don’t feel safe. I called out on Saturday and planned to send in a letter Monday morning as soon as the library director comes in. Luckily, I had an interview for a different city department that week and they actually called me back the same day all this occurred and offered me the position. Obviously I’m going to take it, but now I need advice on how to go about leaving my current job. My issue is that both jobs are under the city system and I would basically just be transferring, but I can’t stick out the two weeks here before transferring there. I plan on mentioning the new role in the letter, but I’m worried that if I quit immediately they’ll remove my name from the employee list even though I would just be starting somewhere else soon after. I’m not sure how to go about asking to keep me in the system when I’m not staying for two weeks. Also, I’ve never sent an immediate notice before and I feel bad because in my section of the library, it’s only me, my supervisor and another coworker but she just went on a month long vacation last week so I would be basically abandoning my supervisor to work alone. My coworkers here have been fairly good people and I have no issues with them so it sucks to do this. And please I would like no judgement on the reason why I am deciding to quit. I mentioned that I didn’t include every single detail but I’m glad to elaborate if anyone wants to know. Anyways, thanks for any advice you may have!
submitted by treeh9m5 to jobs [link] [comments]
2024.06.02 08:00 Neldere An unsent love letter
Dearest,
I want you to understand me fully, because I find it immensely difficult to communicate any of this unless it is all laid out as one mindset, for I fear being misconstrued as ill-intended when for me this is an exercise of truth and speaking that truth which I feel. It is an exercise of honesty, and one of humility as I lay bare before your conscious attention the fullness of my feeling.
I have loved and I have lost. A number of times now, in various ways. I have explored depths of despair, loneliness, grief, trauma, and other shadowy sides to myself and after entertaining death itself for years, I have emerged refreshed and cleansed. I choose life and all that this incarnation has in store for me while my lungs continue to take breath and my heart continues to beat.
My orientation to life has long been to clench and grip and grab and tightly hold on to illusions of control and security. To ensnare people with untenable relationship arrangements founded on a lack of self-acceptance and love. To entertain conditional and transactional experiences with other humans, for fear of being taken advantage of. These seeds I have allowed to take root have sprung up many times, as I have continued to water and enrich them with anxieties and fears. No longer. I choose to live and to love. I choose to cultivate a space of love that welcomes and accepts and validates and entertains without the need for gripping and containing those who enter it. And as the space expands the walls of my heart, the incalculable depths of loving potential arise to the surface and saturate my being. I choose to be love itself, incarnate as far as my current form will allow. I honor my limitations and find great serenity in accommodating and challenging them in due course.
One of my core powers is understanding the nature of limitation itself. Thus I recognize that in terms of my love, a limit does not exist that can ever long persist. My love is infinite. As I fall into the space of love, I too am infinite as a whole and no longer feel a need to leave this form, or end things, or to do anything especial to avoid suffering. I am just love itself, and that is enough to satisfy my mind and my heart and my soul. All that exists that may limit the outpouring of this love is the nature of my form, and that blessedly is ever changing—seemingly to the benefit of all, and will ever grow alongside the expansion of my heart.
This space is supremely difficult to remain in forever. But when I am with you dearest, I am always in that space. I am always in that space of love with you. Even right now. I am in love with you. Do you get what I am saying? I love you as a person, a human, a being in general. I adore so many aspects of you. But I am also IN the space of love WITH you. I am in love WITH you. I love you, but I am also in love with you.
I have no fear stating this. How could I be afraid of loving utterly she for whom I hold all desire? How could I fear you, dearest, when your embrace is pure comfort and pleasure? You are divinely saturated in feminine expression and attract every atom of my being like a super-magnet. In fact, you instead take all my fears away and alchemize them into precise and pristinely perfect inspiration for me to cheerfully ingest, effortlessly. You ARE my inspiration, my muse, my lady, my woman, and my lover in my mind and in my heart.
Your laugh is a fountain of music and your speech an enchantment for my ears. Your smile as you grin at me is so wonderfully and delightfully silly, mischievous, cheerful, hopeful, and full of desire all at once. I have never felt my capacity to love so challenged as by you, but neither have I ever recognized just how utterly willing I am and will ever be to fully explore that capacity with you.
The way your eyes sparkle with celestial radiance, and draw me down into their depths is a fantasy ride into the very dreamy undertones of my most private subconscious sensualities. And with a bright unserious laugher bubbling up in the blink of said eyes, you make me go to pieces with chagrin and humility in the best possible way. Often, your glance pierces with icy diamond sharpness, but gives way to pools of the most vibrant tropical paradise blue that are wells of the deepest wisdom; a spring from the mountains that begins a stream that will take a lifetime to meet the sea. I would swim in the depths of those pools forever, were I so fortunate as to be invited closer than the leaves of the trees on the edge of the forest. The Keen-Eyed I name you, for there exists no veil or shroud over me that your gaze cannot penetrate with swift and unyielding overtones of warmth and delight. No shadow can endure that light.
Your skin is taut; your muscles wrought—of strength, and powerful endurance. You make the lands vibrate with joy and excitement as the wind chases your feet as they dance through the world. When it is out, the sun glows dazzlingly, glittering with tiny rainbows of color as it plays across your aesthetic and athletic form, and all the wildflowers yearn in anticipation as you pass—hoping for the glory and chance of being picked and tucked behind your ear—to their greatest delight and honor. Framing the soft expanse of your brow, the tresses of your hair flash with a rare and glorious golden radiance that only the light of the stars glittering in the inky darkness of night could produce. Their glow traverses the infinite emptiness of space only to at long last become ensnared and woven into the soft strength of each strand, to radiate that light anew.
When I hug you, I realize that if I could, I would freeze time and spend an eternity just holding you in my arms, lovingly caressing your hair and back as your soft gentle weight presses into me, comforting me utterly with the honoring of the full humility of my stark humanity. Feeling your acceptance, and validation and encouraging enrichment through holding you makes me possessed by great sorrow, knowing I must let you go, but it also leaves me with a lasting serenity and pleasure, knowing that within the space of this long lifetime, I somehow have been so unbelievably fortunate as to have been graced by so loving of an embrace. Humans go entire lifetimes without ever experiencing such a wondrous experience, and I treasure it every time it occurs.
You will never owe me anything, nor suffer any binding at my hand, save those of your own choosing. I offer you infinite depths of connection and reassurance amidst the wide world, but I do not seek to contain or cage you. You have a path to walk just as I do, but I would have yours lead back to me each moment that it may. I would cherish and love you all the days of my life, and never would I intentionally overstep your boundaries nor subject you to violence. I would uphold your honor and work to emphasize your grace with my own stature and beauty and power. Such that is granted to me by the space of each moment, anyways. There is great potential for mutual growth and fulfillment between us over the length of a lifetime if we are willing to invest in developing a deeper intertwining of our bodies and our souls. I recognize many limits but no limit to the depths we might explore together. The universe is vast, but perfection abounds from the highest highs to the deepest depths, and as long as I have you nearby, I may envision it and establish it in turn, for the benefit of our family, should you choose to spend your time in my company in a home of our own.
And if your choice is to seek a path that follows a diversion from my own, I will accept it with graceful resignation, wishing you only the utmost happiness for all your days. I may strain to understand how any other might love you with greater ardor than my heart is aflame with, but the cosmos does not revolve around me, and I recognize that there persist many potential partners of greater consideration and so I willingly let go of any claim I might try to lay for your hand. Instead I offer only a blessing, that should the universe favor me at long last, that this letter will not fall astray and will arrive to a welcome reception in the halls of your heart. Should it not, I will sit with contentment, recognizing my own bravery and madness in sending it, and regretting not the choice to seek your fancy.
You are a treasure dearest, and I am a treasure seeker. I covet many gems and beautiful minerals and crystals that this wondrous planet has grown and shaped. But no crystal radiates as you do. No crystal has so beautiful of colors. Nor is as delightfully energizing as you are. I find no greater assurance in any rock or stone than I do holding your hands and being within the sphere of your aura. I have faith that I will become as strong or as harmonious or supportive as ever you might wish me to be, if only were the smile in your eyes to wake me from dreamspace each morning alongside the rays of the sun and so inspire me to greatness.
May this wishful boat of heartfelt intention and deep desire sail gently into the cavernous depths of your being beneath the mountainous wall of the outer bulwark of your defenses, and may it receive safe harborage in the twilight pools of dreams that glow like galaxies in the soft glimmer of crystal-laden caves that house your soul. May it meet there the doorway to your heart, and may it pass over the threshold, to begin anew the conjugation of the universe with itself through the vehicle of our mutual love.
For K,
Who never received it, having chosen another lover.
submitted by Neldere to TrueOffMyChest [link] [comments]
I want you to understand me fully, because I find it immensely difficult to communicate any of this unless it is all laid out as one mindset, for I fear being misconstrued as ill-intended when for me this is an exercise of truth and speaking that truth which I feel. It is an exercise of honesty, and one of humility as I lay bare before your conscious attention the fullness of my feeling.
I have loved and I have lost. A number of times now, in various ways. I have explored depths of despair, loneliness, grief, trauma, and other shadowy sides to myself and after entertaining death itself for years, I have emerged refreshed and cleansed. I choose life and all that this incarnation has in store for me while my lungs continue to take breath and my heart continues to beat.
My orientation to life has long been to clench and grip and grab and tightly hold on to illusions of control and security. To ensnare people with untenable relationship arrangements founded on a lack of self-acceptance and love. To entertain conditional and transactional experiences with other humans, for fear of being taken advantage of. These seeds I have allowed to take root have sprung up many times, as I have continued to water and enrich them with anxieties and fears. No longer. I choose to live and to love. I choose to cultivate a space of love that welcomes and accepts and validates and entertains without the need for gripping and containing those who enter it. And as the space expands the walls of my heart, the incalculable depths of loving potential arise to the surface and saturate my being. I choose to be love itself, incarnate as far as my current form will allow. I honor my limitations and find great serenity in accommodating and challenging them in due course.
One of my core powers is understanding the nature of limitation itself. Thus I recognize that in terms of my love, a limit does not exist that can ever long persist. My love is infinite. As I fall into the space of love, I too am infinite as a whole and no longer feel a need to leave this form, or end things, or to do anything especial to avoid suffering. I am just love itself, and that is enough to satisfy my mind and my heart and my soul. All that exists that may limit the outpouring of this love is the nature of my form, and that blessedly is ever changing—seemingly to the benefit of all, and will ever grow alongside the expansion of my heart.
This space is supremely difficult to remain in forever. But when I am with you dearest, I am always in that space. I am always in that space of love with you. Even right now. I am in love with you. Do you get what I am saying? I love you as a person, a human, a being in general. I adore so many aspects of you. But I am also IN the space of love WITH you. I am in love WITH you. I love you, but I am also in love with you.
I have no fear stating this. How could I be afraid of loving utterly she for whom I hold all desire? How could I fear you, dearest, when your embrace is pure comfort and pleasure? You are divinely saturated in feminine expression and attract every atom of my being like a super-magnet. In fact, you instead take all my fears away and alchemize them into precise and pristinely perfect inspiration for me to cheerfully ingest, effortlessly. You ARE my inspiration, my muse, my lady, my woman, and my lover in my mind and in my heart.
Your laugh is a fountain of music and your speech an enchantment for my ears. Your smile as you grin at me is so wonderfully and delightfully silly, mischievous, cheerful, hopeful, and full of desire all at once. I have never felt my capacity to love so challenged as by you, but neither have I ever recognized just how utterly willing I am and will ever be to fully explore that capacity with you.
The way your eyes sparkle with celestial radiance, and draw me down into their depths is a fantasy ride into the very dreamy undertones of my most private subconscious sensualities. And with a bright unserious laugher bubbling up in the blink of said eyes, you make me go to pieces with chagrin and humility in the best possible way. Often, your glance pierces with icy diamond sharpness, but gives way to pools of the most vibrant tropical paradise blue that are wells of the deepest wisdom; a spring from the mountains that begins a stream that will take a lifetime to meet the sea. I would swim in the depths of those pools forever, were I so fortunate as to be invited closer than the leaves of the trees on the edge of the forest. The Keen-Eyed I name you, for there exists no veil or shroud over me that your gaze cannot penetrate with swift and unyielding overtones of warmth and delight. No shadow can endure that light.
Your skin is taut; your muscles wrought—of strength, and powerful endurance. You make the lands vibrate with joy and excitement as the wind chases your feet as they dance through the world. When it is out, the sun glows dazzlingly, glittering with tiny rainbows of color as it plays across your aesthetic and athletic form, and all the wildflowers yearn in anticipation as you pass—hoping for the glory and chance of being picked and tucked behind your ear—to their greatest delight and honor. Framing the soft expanse of your brow, the tresses of your hair flash with a rare and glorious golden radiance that only the light of the stars glittering in the inky darkness of night could produce. Their glow traverses the infinite emptiness of space only to at long last become ensnared and woven into the soft strength of each strand, to radiate that light anew.
When I hug you, I realize that if I could, I would freeze time and spend an eternity just holding you in my arms, lovingly caressing your hair and back as your soft gentle weight presses into me, comforting me utterly with the honoring of the full humility of my stark humanity. Feeling your acceptance, and validation and encouraging enrichment through holding you makes me possessed by great sorrow, knowing I must let you go, but it also leaves me with a lasting serenity and pleasure, knowing that within the space of this long lifetime, I somehow have been so unbelievably fortunate as to have been graced by so loving of an embrace. Humans go entire lifetimes without ever experiencing such a wondrous experience, and I treasure it every time it occurs.
You will never owe me anything, nor suffer any binding at my hand, save those of your own choosing. I offer you infinite depths of connection and reassurance amidst the wide world, but I do not seek to contain or cage you. You have a path to walk just as I do, but I would have yours lead back to me each moment that it may. I would cherish and love you all the days of my life, and never would I intentionally overstep your boundaries nor subject you to violence. I would uphold your honor and work to emphasize your grace with my own stature and beauty and power. Such that is granted to me by the space of each moment, anyways. There is great potential for mutual growth and fulfillment between us over the length of a lifetime if we are willing to invest in developing a deeper intertwining of our bodies and our souls. I recognize many limits but no limit to the depths we might explore together. The universe is vast, but perfection abounds from the highest highs to the deepest depths, and as long as I have you nearby, I may envision it and establish it in turn, for the benefit of our family, should you choose to spend your time in my company in a home of our own.
And if your choice is to seek a path that follows a diversion from my own, I will accept it with graceful resignation, wishing you only the utmost happiness for all your days. I may strain to understand how any other might love you with greater ardor than my heart is aflame with, but the cosmos does not revolve around me, and I recognize that there persist many potential partners of greater consideration and so I willingly let go of any claim I might try to lay for your hand. Instead I offer only a blessing, that should the universe favor me at long last, that this letter will not fall astray and will arrive to a welcome reception in the halls of your heart. Should it not, I will sit with contentment, recognizing my own bravery and madness in sending it, and regretting not the choice to seek your fancy.
You are a treasure dearest, and I am a treasure seeker. I covet many gems and beautiful minerals and crystals that this wondrous planet has grown and shaped. But no crystal radiates as you do. No crystal has so beautiful of colors. Nor is as delightfully energizing as you are. I find no greater assurance in any rock or stone than I do holding your hands and being within the sphere of your aura. I have faith that I will become as strong or as harmonious or supportive as ever you might wish me to be, if only were the smile in your eyes to wake me from dreamspace each morning alongside the rays of the sun and so inspire me to greatness.
May this wishful boat of heartfelt intention and deep desire sail gently into the cavernous depths of your being beneath the mountainous wall of the outer bulwark of your defenses, and may it receive safe harborage in the twilight pools of dreams that glow like galaxies in the soft glimmer of crystal-laden caves that house your soul. May it meet there the doorway to your heart, and may it pass over the threshold, to begin anew the conjugation of the universe with itself through the vehicle of our mutual love.
For K,
Who never received it, having chosen another lover.
2024.06.02 05:23 Ok_Letterhead4 A series of pain, consultations, and tests which led to the final diagnosis of Left Hip Dysplasia (LHP), with labrum tear and a recount of Left Periacetabular Osteotomy (LPAO) procedure.
Hi, not sure if this has been documented before but here I am, giving my 2 cents worth to everyone who needs this. I know it’s been really tough on everyone who has to go through this. It’s a really long post, so if you are short on time, just go straight to the heading in bold to find out what you’re looking for.
I don't know where everyone is from, but I am from Singapore and apparently, I can’t find any related posts by Singaporeans in any subreddits. If any fellow countryman needs this, there you go. For fellow netizens with Hip Dysplasia, there might be differences in the processes, but I suppose the recovery process is just about the same. Hope this helps, nonetheless!
Pre-diagnosis I have been a leisure runner in my late teens, and pretty much run about 5 to 10km regularly til mid-20s. It started with knee pain in a particular race, and the pain continued for a couple of years more. I had wanted to train for a half marathon, but I also wanted to ensure that I started my training right and pain-free. So I went to straight to a Sports Specialist Doctor in a Public Hospital and she diagnosed me with a Runner’s Knee (or formally known as Patellofemoral Pain Syndrome, PFPS) after looking through my x-ray, and my description of pain. She referred me to the Podiatrist and the Physiotherapist for gait correction and muscle strengthening. It was going on fine for a while, but I still couldn’t run pain-free. Then Covid came, and the appointments have to be suspended. But I was still doing my physio exercises and running about 2.5 to 5km when we were allowed to.
Diagnosis As more restrictions eased, I began training for speed, and that was when the pain started coming from the hip, and walking became strangely painful with a pinching sensation at the hip/groin area at this point. I sought help from a private physiotherapist to find out what happened. After a few sessions, he realized something was not right and suggested me to get a hip x-ray done. And so I did, at a Polyclinic, and the x-ray showed shallow acetabulum and I got referred (again) to a Sports Specialist to get a MRI done. And LHP with a labrum tear was the diagnosis. And to no surprise… I got referred to another Specialist again, who was affirmative that I need a LPAO and at the same time broke it to me that I have a RHP which will need a PAO too. If you need to know the timeline - I had the x-ray done at the end of 2022, MRI done on mid-2023, LPAO done at the start of 2024.
Pre-surgery Preparation (Work) Check with your doctor on the estimated rest period (mine’s 3months) and inform your boss about it. The surgery will most likely be about 5 hours max, hospital stay 5 days, and you will be on 2 crutches for 6-8 weeks, and another 1-2 weeks on 1 crutch to stabilize your walking. You might be able to resume work obligations if it’s a sedentary job or another 6 more weeks of home rest if your work requires much walking or manual labour. So it’s really important to work out with your boss and colleagues for a proper handover so that you can concentrate solely on recovery.
Pre-surgery Preparation (Hospital) There will be a blood test / some swab done 3 – 4 weeks prior to the surgery; the nurse will let you know. You will be under General Anesthesia (GA) during the surgery, so fasting is required a day before is required.
Do pack light for your hospital stay. Use a backpack for convenience. Clothes to wear after discharge + source of entertainment and communication is enough. You wouldn’t want to carry a lot of things home after discharge when you’re on 2 crutches.
Pre-surgery Preparation (Insurance + Hospital Wards) Do inform your Insurance Agent / Company about it so that they are aware. It may or may not be covered, so please get in touch with them as soon as you have the details.
[Singapore’s context] There will be a pre-admission appointment with the hospital staff about 3 weeks before the scheduled surgery, which the staff with share with you the cost of the different class wards. Basically, Class C (8-bedded) and Class B2 (6-bedded) wards are fully subsidized by the government. I can’t remember how much a Class B1 (4-bedded) ward costs, but probably about 10-15K SGD. Class A (1-bedded) is about 21-23K SGD. The staff with help you out with the Letter of Guarantee (LOG) from your Insurance Company and will let you know in about 2 weeks if the application for LOG is successful, if not you would have to prepare for the bills depending on your chosen ward (either Class A or Class B1). There is no need for LOG for Class C and Class B2 wards, since it’s fully government-subsidized. Medisave and MediShield/IPs will be used for all Class Wards (Note: IPs is only applicable to 30 years old and above). My insurance allows me to be in the Class A ward and the application for LOG was also successful, thankfully.
Pre-surgery Preparation (Personal) Since you will be on crutches, do arrange your house to accommodate that. A folding bedside table, a caddy trolley, a long-arm grabber, pillows are items that you can prepare beforehand. Do also ensure that your toilet is slip-free as well or restructure it in a way that is beneficial for you. I had to bathe sitting on the toilet bowl for the 1st week as it is difficult to make it slip-free. It got better 2nd week onwards when I was allowed a 30% weight-bearing on my operated side, so I could be in the showering area. You will be at home and ‘confine’ to the bed/chair most of the time, so it’d be good to have some form of entertainment at home. Nanoblocks, Colouring books, Wordsearch, Sudoku, Crosswords, Netflix, Disney+, Hbo, Reading, Crocheting, Journalling, Zoom with friends are some of the things that you can do / prepare before surgery. You may or may not have energy for them, but that’s ok, the main idea is to focus on resting and having a sound mind so that you won’t be discouraged / feel bored / unmotivated. For meal wise, it’d be good if your family can cook / buy food, if not do ensure that your budget allows you to get food delivery for 6-8 weeks. I got my meals from Grabfood. Do ensure that you have a good chair – not those that put your knees above your hips.
Day of surgery If you can, do arrive 5-10mins earlier to settle in after registration.
[Singapore’s context] Do note that the staff who registers you in will ask you for the person to contact after the surgery. It’d be a text message to inform the person on the end of your surgery and which ward you will be in. You will need to sign the LOG letter (if any) and proceed to take your height and weight at the self-administered machine. Wait and follow any instructions by the nurse. You will be asked to change into the hospital gown and the nurses will ask you more questions, just answer them accordingly. They will also help to keep your belongings in their storage and will deliver to your ward at their timeslot after your surgery.
Process of surgery The Anesthesiology team will introduce themselves to you and go through the pain management methods. They asked what method (they mentioned 3, but I only remembered what I had) I preferred, and I told them to go ahead with what they think was good for me. Epidural, it was. And so, I got pricked with needles and whatnots and they finally brought me into the operating room. I didn’t realize the room was so big and cold and there were many doctors and nurses around. They did their thing, and I was just trying not to feel awkward with so many people looking at my bareback and being in a very vulnerable state. It’s a little pricky and painful at some point. Do let them know if you’re too cold, they have this hot air thing that can warm you up. They will also insert a urine catheter for you to help with the bladder movements. I was quickly under General Anesthesia (GA) with a breathing mouthpiece (the Anesthesiologists will direct you on what to do). I woke up after the surgery with a very dry throat and asked if I could have some water. They gave me a tiny vial of water, just about enough to soothe my throat. I guess it was also caused I was under GA and couldn’t be given much for my stomach too. I was quite aware of what was going on though I was still a little sleepy. I had to be brought to the High Dependency Ward (HDW) due to low blood pressure.
After surgery (in HDW) I kept wanting to drink water but that also caused me to vomit out water and had no appetite for dinner. Nausea and vomiting are just some side effects of GA. (I remembered being disappointed that I couldn’t have the watermelon, I had wanted to eat that, but I knew I couldn’t stomach it) And little did I realize that was the last time I saw a watermelon during meal times (damn the side effects). I was also quite weak on my operated left side, I was not in that much of a pain, just some discomfort. I was given a self-administered morphine device too, there is this button that I can press to administer morphine into my system at regular interval, the device has some safety feature which helps to stop people from abusing it) Used it once after I had to be flipped over to be wiped clean by the nurse (at this time, I had given up on trying to maintain my dignity, though the nurses were quite humane about it, if you know what I mean) But I was also trying not to use the morphine at all cos it gave me more side effects like drowsiness and an even lower blood pressure). Thankfully I had a good Pain Team (that’s what they call themselves), which helped to lower the dosage after they realized I was not using it that much and I was still very drowsy (I fell asleep halfway unknowingly after talking to people), and eventually I was off it. I was taken for an x-ray after the nurse ascertained that my blood pressure was normal (since I had the catheter, I just sipped water without a care in the world, to help raise my blood pressure). And I administered the morphine once after they flipped me over for the x-ray (it was bloody hell painful and it took a lot of strength). Probably in a day or 2, the doctors decided to remove my epidural needle and I was finally free of it. The next thing to get rid of was the catheter. I had a love-hate relationship with it. I need to be able to pass motion to get rid of it, which I did after an arduous process. Constipation is a side effect of not moving around. Your stool will most definitely be a Type 1 under the Bristol Stool Chart but it will be back to normal in a few days or so. I did a little cheer when I finally pooped.
My physiotherapist came and pushed me to move around. The first step coming down from the bed was the hardest due to gravitational pull. My muscles needed to be woken up after lying down for 48 hours or more. I got transferred to General Ward (GW) soon after.
After surgery (GW) I had some bed exercises to help to wake up the muscles and I was using the walker to move around. It was tough doing the bed exercises, but they have to be done. I was also able to bath independently by sitting down on the bathing chair in the bathing area of the toilet. I still needed assistance to wear my pyjamas pants. So unfortunately, the nurse still had to be around when I bathed for safety purposes since I was a fall-risk patient.
At this time, I was trying to get out of bed and be in the chair and also use the walker more to help with moving around and getting the muscles up and running. I had 2 more physio sessions with the crutches. Using the walker frequently helped with the use of crutches. (You will know what I meant when you have tried both out. You can push yourself but please do not force it if you are not strong enough yet.) My doctors have cleared me for discharge, I just need my physiotherapist to clear me too (they have to be sure that I can use the crutches properly and safely and also complete simple daily adaptive skills). Finally, I got cleared for discharge. I got the medication, and it was a cashless and fuss-free stay/process for me. I stayed in the hospital for 7 days (3.5 days in HDW, 3.5 days in GW). Remember to get your crutches before leaving the hospital.
Home rest 1st Week I must say, it’s really liberating to be at home, though it’s really a chore to move around. I did my physio exercises about 3x a day and just be a sloth. I was still very tired, but it was difficult to sleep. I’m usually a side sleeper, but I had to sleep on my back for 6 weeks, at least. My doctors said that I could sleep on my unoperated side, but it can be achy.
Home rest 2nd Week Things are looking up a little more since I could place a 30% weight on my left. I could enter the showering area now, just be careful not to overload the operated side. 2 crutches are still a must to prevent any overloading of weight to help with the recovery. Protein and calcium-rich food are your best friend. Again, do your physio exercises regularly. I still do mine 3x a day.
Home rest 7th Week Finally, I got to put full weight on my operated side. Happily, I tried to ditch BOTH my crutches, please do not be like me! Ease into walking slowly. Use 1 crutch to help you with the gravity pull as you put 100% weight on both legs. It is also possible to ditch the crutch and try walking on very short distances, do take care of your walking form. If you limp badly, please use 1 crutch and practice walking. I did try stairs and use the railings if necessary. I managed to ditch the crutches by Week 8. Physio continues, if you have access to the gym, please go ahead, slowly. I am sleeping both on my back and on my unoperated side now.
Home rest 13th Week Not sure if things are still looking good, but my knees kinda hurt, and that’d be another story for another day. I am cleared to resume work, though I still got to be careful with the walking and all.
Week 14 – Week 18 (current) I think since I am walking a lot more, I am limping a little, but not enough for a need to bring back the crutch. It got more achy when I’m sleeping on my unoperated side and still a little discomfort if I try to sleep on my operated side. My operated side is still weak and achy when I walk or sit or lie down. I am still doing my physio, though not 3x a day now.
I am not too sure how I will progress but that’s my journey thus far. Happy to share here and to answer any questions you may have.
Edit: Formatting
submitted by Ok_Letterhead4 to hipdysplasia [link] [comments]
I don't know where everyone is from, but I am from Singapore and apparently, I can’t find any related posts by Singaporeans in any subreddits. If any fellow countryman needs this, there you go. For fellow netizens with Hip Dysplasia, there might be differences in the processes, but I suppose the recovery process is just about the same. Hope this helps, nonetheless!
Pre-diagnosis I have been a leisure runner in my late teens, and pretty much run about 5 to 10km regularly til mid-20s. It started with knee pain in a particular race, and the pain continued for a couple of years more. I had wanted to train for a half marathon, but I also wanted to ensure that I started my training right and pain-free. So I went to straight to a Sports Specialist Doctor in a Public Hospital and she diagnosed me with a Runner’s Knee (or formally known as Patellofemoral Pain Syndrome, PFPS) after looking through my x-ray, and my description of pain. She referred me to the Podiatrist and the Physiotherapist for gait correction and muscle strengthening. It was going on fine for a while, but I still couldn’t run pain-free. Then Covid came, and the appointments have to be suspended. But I was still doing my physio exercises and running about 2.5 to 5km when we were allowed to.
Diagnosis As more restrictions eased, I began training for speed, and that was when the pain started coming from the hip, and walking became strangely painful with a pinching sensation at the hip/groin area at this point. I sought help from a private physiotherapist to find out what happened. After a few sessions, he realized something was not right and suggested me to get a hip x-ray done. And so I did, at a Polyclinic, and the x-ray showed shallow acetabulum and I got referred (again) to a Sports Specialist to get a MRI done. And LHP with a labrum tear was the diagnosis. And to no surprise… I got referred to another Specialist again, who was affirmative that I need a LPAO and at the same time broke it to me that I have a RHP which will need a PAO too. If you need to know the timeline - I had the x-ray done at the end of 2022, MRI done on mid-2023, LPAO done at the start of 2024.
Pre-surgery Preparation (Work) Check with your doctor on the estimated rest period (mine’s 3months) and inform your boss about it. The surgery will most likely be about 5 hours max, hospital stay 5 days, and you will be on 2 crutches for 6-8 weeks, and another 1-2 weeks on 1 crutch to stabilize your walking. You might be able to resume work obligations if it’s a sedentary job or another 6 more weeks of home rest if your work requires much walking or manual labour. So it’s really important to work out with your boss and colleagues for a proper handover so that you can concentrate solely on recovery.
Pre-surgery Preparation (Hospital) There will be a blood test / some swab done 3 – 4 weeks prior to the surgery; the nurse will let you know. You will be under General Anesthesia (GA) during the surgery, so fasting is required a day before is required.
Do pack light for your hospital stay. Use a backpack for convenience. Clothes to wear after discharge + source of entertainment and communication is enough. You wouldn’t want to carry a lot of things home after discharge when you’re on 2 crutches.
Pre-surgery Preparation (Insurance + Hospital Wards) Do inform your Insurance Agent / Company about it so that they are aware. It may or may not be covered, so please get in touch with them as soon as you have the details.
[Singapore’s context] There will be a pre-admission appointment with the hospital staff about 3 weeks before the scheduled surgery, which the staff with share with you the cost of the different class wards. Basically, Class C (8-bedded) and Class B2 (6-bedded) wards are fully subsidized by the government. I can’t remember how much a Class B1 (4-bedded) ward costs, but probably about 10-15K SGD. Class A (1-bedded) is about 21-23K SGD. The staff with help you out with the Letter of Guarantee (LOG) from your Insurance Company and will let you know in about 2 weeks if the application for LOG is successful, if not you would have to prepare for the bills depending on your chosen ward (either Class A or Class B1). There is no need for LOG for Class C and Class B2 wards, since it’s fully government-subsidized. Medisave and MediShield/IPs will be used for all Class Wards (Note: IPs is only applicable to 30 years old and above). My insurance allows me to be in the Class A ward and the application for LOG was also successful, thankfully.
Pre-surgery Preparation (Personal) Since you will be on crutches, do arrange your house to accommodate that. A folding bedside table, a caddy trolley, a long-arm grabber, pillows are items that you can prepare beforehand. Do also ensure that your toilet is slip-free as well or restructure it in a way that is beneficial for you. I had to bathe sitting on the toilet bowl for the 1st week as it is difficult to make it slip-free. It got better 2nd week onwards when I was allowed a 30% weight-bearing on my operated side, so I could be in the showering area. You will be at home and ‘confine’ to the bed/chair most of the time, so it’d be good to have some form of entertainment at home. Nanoblocks, Colouring books, Wordsearch, Sudoku, Crosswords, Netflix, Disney+, Hbo, Reading, Crocheting, Journalling, Zoom with friends are some of the things that you can do / prepare before surgery. You may or may not have energy for them, but that’s ok, the main idea is to focus on resting and having a sound mind so that you won’t be discouraged / feel bored / unmotivated. For meal wise, it’d be good if your family can cook / buy food, if not do ensure that your budget allows you to get food delivery for 6-8 weeks. I got my meals from Grabfood. Do ensure that you have a good chair – not those that put your knees above your hips.
Day of surgery If you can, do arrive 5-10mins earlier to settle in after registration.
[Singapore’s context] Do note that the staff who registers you in will ask you for the person to contact after the surgery. It’d be a text message to inform the person on the end of your surgery and which ward you will be in. You will need to sign the LOG letter (if any) and proceed to take your height and weight at the self-administered machine. Wait and follow any instructions by the nurse. You will be asked to change into the hospital gown and the nurses will ask you more questions, just answer them accordingly. They will also help to keep your belongings in their storage and will deliver to your ward at their timeslot after your surgery.
Process of surgery The Anesthesiology team will introduce themselves to you and go through the pain management methods. They asked what method (they mentioned 3, but I only remembered what I had) I preferred, and I told them to go ahead with what they think was good for me. Epidural, it was. And so, I got pricked with needles and whatnots and they finally brought me into the operating room. I didn’t realize the room was so big and cold and there were many doctors and nurses around. They did their thing, and I was just trying not to feel awkward with so many people looking at my bareback and being in a very vulnerable state. It’s a little pricky and painful at some point. Do let them know if you’re too cold, they have this hot air thing that can warm you up. They will also insert a urine catheter for you to help with the bladder movements. I was quickly under General Anesthesia (GA) with a breathing mouthpiece (the Anesthesiologists will direct you on what to do). I woke up after the surgery with a very dry throat and asked if I could have some water. They gave me a tiny vial of water, just about enough to soothe my throat. I guess it was also caused I was under GA and couldn’t be given much for my stomach too. I was quite aware of what was going on though I was still a little sleepy. I had to be brought to the High Dependency Ward (HDW) due to low blood pressure.
After surgery (in HDW) I kept wanting to drink water but that also caused me to vomit out water and had no appetite for dinner. Nausea and vomiting are just some side effects of GA. (I remembered being disappointed that I couldn’t have the watermelon, I had wanted to eat that, but I knew I couldn’t stomach it) And little did I realize that was the last time I saw a watermelon during meal times (damn the side effects). I was also quite weak on my operated left side, I was not in that much of a pain, just some discomfort. I was given a self-administered morphine device too, there is this button that I can press to administer morphine into my system at regular interval, the device has some safety feature which helps to stop people from abusing it) Used it once after I had to be flipped over to be wiped clean by the nurse (at this time, I had given up on trying to maintain my dignity, though the nurses were quite humane about it, if you know what I mean) But I was also trying not to use the morphine at all cos it gave me more side effects like drowsiness and an even lower blood pressure). Thankfully I had a good Pain Team (that’s what they call themselves), which helped to lower the dosage after they realized I was not using it that much and I was still very drowsy (I fell asleep halfway unknowingly after talking to people), and eventually I was off it. I was taken for an x-ray after the nurse ascertained that my blood pressure was normal (since I had the catheter, I just sipped water without a care in the world, to help raise my blood pressure). And I administered the morphine once after they flipped me over for the x-ray (it was bloody hell painful and it took a lot of strength). Probably in a day or 2, the doctors decided to remove my epidural needle and I was finally free of it. The next thing to get rid of was the catheter. I had a love-hate relationship with it. I need to be able to pass motion to get rid of it, which I did after an arduous process. Constipation is a side effect of not moving around. Your stool will most definitely be a Type 1 under the Bristol Stool Chart but it will be back to normal in a few days or so. I did a little cheer when I finally pooped.
My physiotherapist came and pushed me to move around. The first step coming down from the bed was the hardest due to gravitational pull. My muscles needed to be woken up after lying down for 48 hours or more. I got transferred to General Ward (GW) soon after.
After surgery (GW) I had some bed exercises to help to wake up the muscles and I was using the walker to move around. It was tough doing the bed exercises, but they have to be done. I was also able to bath independently by sitting down on the bathing chair in the bathing area of the toilet. I still needed assistance to wear my pyjamas pants. So unfortunately, the nurse still had to be around when I bathed for safety purposes since I was a fall-risk patient.
At this time, I was trying to get out of bed and be in the chair and also use the walker more to help with moving around and getting the muscles up and running. I had 2 more physio sessions with the crutches. Using the walker frequently helped with the use of crutches. (You will know what I meant when you have tried both out. You can push yourself but please do not force it if you are not strong enough yet.) My doctors have cleared me for discharge, I just need my physiotherapist to clear me too (they have to be sure that I can use the crutches properly and safely and also complete simple daily adaptive skills). Finally, I got cleared for discharge. I got the medication, and it was a cashless and fuss-free stay/process for me. I stayed in the hospital for 7 days (3.5 days in HDW, 3.5 days in GW). Remember to get your crutches before leaving the hospital.
Home rest 1st Week I must say, it’s really liberating to be at home, though it’s really a chore to move around. I did my physio exercises about 3x a day and just be a sloth. I was still very tired, but it was difficult to sleep. I’m usually a side sleeper, but I had to sleep on my back for 6 weeks, at least. My doctors said that I could sleep on my unoperated side, but it can be achy.
Home rest 2nd Week Things are looking up a little more since I could place a 30% weight on my left. I could enter the showering area now, just be careful not to overload the operated side. 2 crutches are still a must to prevent any overloading of weight to help with the recovery. Protein and calcium-rich food are your best friend. Again, do your physio exercises regularly. I still do mine 3x a day.
Home rest 7th Week Finally, I got to put full weight on my operated side. Happily, I tried to ditch BOTH my crutches, please do not be like me! Ease into walking slowly. Use 1 crutch to help you with the gravity pull as you put 100% weight on both legs. It is also possible to ditch the crutch and try walking on very short distances, do take care of your walking form. If you limp badly, please use 1 crutch and practice walking. I did try stairs and use the railings if necessary. I managed to ditch the crutches by Week 8. Physio continues, if you have access to the gym, please go ahead, slowly. I am sleeping both on my back and on my unoperated side now.
Home rest 13th Week Not sure if things are still looking good, but my knees kinda hurt, and that’d be another story for another day. I am cleared to resume work, though I still got to be careful with the walking and all.
Week 14 – Week 18 (current) I think since I am walking a lot more, I am limping a little, but not enough for a need to bring back the crutch. It got more achy when I’m sleeping on my unoperated side and still a little discomfort if I try to sleep on my operated side. My operated side is still weak and achy when I walk or sit or lie down. I am still doing my physio, though not 3x a day now.
I am not too sure how I will progress but that’s my journey thus far. Happy to share here and to answer any questions you may have.
Edit: Formatting
2024.06.02 05:08 novgarr87 Yesterday was 10 years since my baptism. Was a hard day.
And today is 10 years since my confirmation and "Aaronic priesthood" ordination. I know that sometimes this happens. But any kind word would be welcome.
10 years ago. Southernmost mission in the world. It was a cold, rainy day like today. I was super excited, I chose my baptism date. I was 26. Everyone loved it. I cried of happiness and hugged they guy who baptized me with uncontrollable tears.I felt I was finally finding God. There was a wonderful reception aftwerwards. I faithfully served many callings.
Yesterday I talked (for the first time in 3 years) to the missionaries, asking for the name of their mission president. After they answered, I thanked them, and blocked them.
My resignation letter is ready to be sent, and I wanted to direct it not only to the branch president, but also the district president and mission president. I was ready to send it yesterday, making a symbolic closure. But somehow I couldn't.
I felt paralyzed. At the same time I remembered some fond memories, the sense of community, I contemplated the rubble of the building of beliefs that collapsed. I see like corpses the Book of Mormon, the signs and tokens, the temple pictures, the sealing certificate, the Jesus with arms wide open, my 13 dusty ties hanging in my closet, like those dead, dusty arms, legs, feet that can be seen in the rubble of bombed buildings, like in the war news.
And each of these metaphorical remains are experiences, books, memories, words, meetings, people I lost, all those who inhabited that building in ruins, and who accidentally or voluntarily disappeared along with it when it collapsed. It collapsed because the self-proclaimed architect poorly designed it for his benefit, because the foremen didn't follow the instructions -also given for the benefit of the construction engineer- and the workers never knew how to build. And some foremen and workers acted together to damage some pillars of the building. 🏚️
Those remains are also those good memories that are vanishing little by little. Memories of a world and a reality already empty, and the pain of disappointment and disillusionment - still stinging sometimes-... But also memories of the shock from discovering that nothing was true and practically nothing it was worth it. The pain of the loss, although beneficial, is no less painful sometimes. 💔
Cried a little. It's been the second biggest grief of my life.
But although it has been difficult to remove the rubble from the land, in the small space that I have been able to clear slowly, I have built a small cabin -much narrower than that large building with a lot of space- where I have lived much happier than in the first part of those past 10 years 😊😊😊😊 and the sun ☀ has shone brightly after the storm, and I don't need artificial lights anymore.
But as in every grief, when such a loss has been suffered, memories and longings come on significant dates, while having the full awareness that it's gone forever.
Days like yesterday hurt.
submitted by novgarr87 to exmormon [link] [comments]
10 years ago. Southernmost mission in the world. It was a cold, rainy day like today. I was super excited, I chose my baptism date. I was 26. Everyone loved it. I cried of happiness and hugged they guy who baptized me with uncontrollable tears.I felt I was finally finding God. There was a wonderful reception aftwerwards. I faithfully served many callings.
Yesterday I talked (for the first time in 3 years) to the missionaries, asking for the name of their mission president. After they answered, I thanked them, and blocked them.
My resignation letter is ready to be sent, and I wanted to direct it not only to the branch president, but also the district president and mission president. I was ready to send it yesterday, making a symbolic closure. But somehow I couldn't.
I felt paralyzed. At the same time I remembered some fond memories, the sense of community, I contemplated the rubble of the building of beliefs that collapsed. I see like corpses the Book of Mormon, the signs and tokens, the temple pictures, the sealing certificate, the Jesus with arms wide open, my 13 dusty ties hanging in my closet, like those dead, dusty arms, legs, feet that can be seen in the rubble of bombed buildings, like in the war news.
And each of these metaphorical remains are experiences, books, memories, words, meetings, people I lost, all those who inhabited that building in ruins, and who accidentally or voluntarily disappeared along with it when it collapsed. It collapsed because the self-proclaimed architect poorly designed it for his benefit, because the foremen didn't follow the instructions -also given for the benefit of the construction engineer- and the workers never knew how to build. And some foremen and workers acted together to damage some pillars of the building. 🏚️
Those remains are also those good memories that are vanishing little by little. Memories of a world and a reality already empty, and the pain of disappointment and disillusionment - still stinging sometimes-... But also memories of the shock from discovering that nothing was true and practically nothing it was worth it. The pain of the loss, although beneficial, is no less painful sometimes. 💔
Cried a little. It's been the second biggest grief of my life.
But although it has been difficult to remove the rubble from the land, in the small space that I have been able to clear slowly, I have built a small cabin -much narrower than that large building with a lot of space- where I have lived much happier than in the first part of those past 10 years 😊😊😊😊 and the sun ☀ has shone brightly after the storm, and I don't need artificial lights anymore.
But as in every grief, when such a loss has been suffered, memories and longings come on significant dates, while having the full awareness that it's gone forever.
Days like yesterday hurt.
2024.06.02 04:47 Muninn_Crow Functional Holy Books
From the log of Edward Price – Clerk for Diplomat Howard Weathers – 03.28.2803
I suppose a summary is in order for things to be clear. Humanity has a bit of a reputation as an odd lot in the galaxy. Most aliens don’t know really know what to think about us. You see, most aliens are actually somewhat boring, having fallen into galactic societal niches over thousands of years. The Atroxians are were space pirates, the Vontacruz own the casinos and travel cruise industries, and the Hordun operate the most efficient morgues this side of the galaxy – usually because of the Atroxians. But the Delridians? They are diplomats. And dare I say that they are the weird ones.
Delri Prima is the homeworld of the Delridians, a tall, lanky race who look like the grimdark cousins of a Star Wars Kaminoan. Brilliant medics, they apparently don’t see a difference between medical work and diplomacy, seeing both fields as the healing arts. Their medicocracy has a long list of accomplishments throughout the galaxy, enough that it’d look like an 18-hour credit reel on a movie. My guess is that they may have been the “Humans” of the galaxy preceding us before they finally settled, and rumors have it that the K’kituun Death Puppets are an ancient offshoot from their early days on the galactic stage.
But more to the point, after about 180 years on the galactic stage, Humanity has made a decent name for ourselves as the handyman and eccentric nerd. We are celebrated, thrown strange looks, worried glances, and altogether treated as small children. Though with the destruction of Axtroxia, they may want to worry about what will happen when we hit puberty. The Delridians have already been through that, though they were never as eccentric as we are.
They reached out to Humanity with a diplomatic frigate appropriately named Olive Branch about a year ago. I’ve learned they like to reflect the cultures they are talking to, so as to ease negotiations. Can’t imagine what the Atroxian equivalent was. Probably something like ‘Torn Heads’. Regardless, Diplomat Weathers was finally selected as the Earth delegate to talk on Delri Prima, and oh boy. That is a dark world. Like, bring a flashlight dark. I don’t know whether it is the slow spin of the planet, or the climate generators they have, but the entire twilight band is just dark and grey. It rains, and thankfully it is safe water, but it is eerie. From the embassy city they built to make us more comfortable, you can look out across the Delridian jungle and see the many other diplomatic cities slowly being devoured by the vines and trees.
The first night was fine, though I’m not sure any of us slept well. We were each provided a separate room or, well, house really. The entire city was made of a cold stone, themed after some old Italian city on Earth. The wind slipped through the narrow streets with a soft whistle, bringing with it a faint jungle fog. Somewhere down the street was a clattering window shutter, but with how much stone they used, and the strange alignment of the streets, you could hear a pin drop from eight blocks away!
Talks went well for the first three days as Diplomat Weathers and the Delridians got to know each other. I met with and discussed a number of cultural similarities with a member of the alien entourage, a Nurse Kelayo, when I wasn’t with the others in my group exploring the city. She was very proud of the settlement they built for us, but in our talks, she asked what we thought of the book. What book?
Well, after having a wonderful meal with my coworkers and some of the alien entourage, we said our farewells and parted ways. Kelayo was vague, but had explained how they had acquired a copy of the book, and that she hoped that we enjoyed the effort she put into it.
I didn’t look into it immediately when I returned to the lonely, lifeless house that was my quarters. Mark was my closest neighbor, and he was a block down. The Delridians, fresh from talks with the Hordun, thought we may want some privacy from each other. And while it is nice not having to hear Mark snore in the cabin like on the flight here, the house was a little… too private.
It was as I was preparing to turn off the light to go to sleep that I thought to look in the nightstand beside me. Kelayo had told us about the book, and when I opened the top drawer, it was indeed there. Sitting center and alone was an old Earth book of gnarled leather and no visible title. Whatever poor creature the Delridians had used to make the cover had terrible skin!
Opening the book, I found it to have been printed in an old dialect of English from before the Third World War, with some much older words I did not recognize. It certainly looked like it was printed in the archaic methods of old Earth, with wet ink instead of modern digital ink that provided touch-based pseudo-memoric context.
I began to flip through the pages of this strange book, turning up the brightness on the nightstand lamp to see better. The faded pages of the book looked sick and moldy, and my skin crawled just touching it, but the letters, despite the stains and grunge, seemed to pop from the page in crisp black. In fact, the ink was so black that it felt like I was staring into the void with each letter. Kelayo’s book was some archaic text of old Earth culture from the end of the 20th century, though I did not recognize the name. Written by a Bishop Simon from some archaic cult or religion, the book functioned as a “spellbook” like a deepdive virtual reality fantasy game might have. It was filled with a plethora of gods I did not recognize, and a ton of phonetic gibberish that sounded good when said, but easily complicated.
I hadn’t gotten too far when I heard a man’s scream next to me. Jumping out of my skin, I found no one there. But I remembered where I was, and crept to the window. It was Mark’s voice, more panicky than I had ever heard him. Peeking through the slats of the window, I scanned the street towards Mark’s place. The light was on, and someone was shuffling down the street, murmuring in pain.
Rushing down to the street, I rushed out to help him. Mark’s mutterings were too quiet, and he was holding something to his chest. It may have been a minute before I collected myself and tried to get answers from him, but you have to understand, I’ve never seen a dying man before. Not in real life. In the dim and permanent gloom, I could barely make out the trail of blood behind him. He pleaded again and again, and I had to find out where he was injured, and what it was he was carrying.
I went to take what he held, only to realized that in my own fervor to aid him I still had that creepy book. I put that down to wrench free Mark’s own possession. I really wish I hadn’t, for his grip was weak, with only one hand. I held his other, and everything above it.
My own voice was the next I heard echoing down the street as I most certainly fell backwards. Sorry Mark, but I lost your arm. Well, your first one. The second is decorating some chandelier somewhere, courtesy of Vanessa.
Please understand that for anyone in my situation, gorey horror was never my fancy, and I hope no one in the auditing board holds it against me. I would bet credits that any of you would have done much the same as I did.
Time is… unreliable on Delri Prima, with its twilit band and gloom. The only thing that moves is that blasted fog. And the vines. Especially the vines. I’m not sure how long I ran, but Vanessa was the one to find me, flanked by a street littered with Human bodies. Far more people than joined us on the crew… I think. You might want to review the ship manifest just to be sure.
Vanessa, once she verified my identity, guided me through the littered street, still gurgling and reaching out to us. Give her a raise, by the way. She’s the one that got us out of there. We met up with Dwayne and Harry, both armed with metal pipes and whatever other junk they salvaged, and we retreated to a boarded up house with other surviving members of the crew. They were glad to see me, though I don’t remember who they were. Many were new faces to the ship for this mission.
We settled here for hours? A day? Our comms were filled with static, and we couldn’t reach Mr. Weathers to see if he was ok. We needed to get off this planet. Someone mentioned that the ship was still parked at the landing bay. All eyes turned to someone in the back of the group, who slowly stood up, her form long and lanky. Kelayo, the Delridian nurse.
Vanessa worked with Kelayo on a plan to move through the city to the landing bay, while the rest of us sought supplies. This house had a basement, connected to a series of tunnels which we would use to slip under whatever muttering, mumbling horrors pleaded us to come outside.
Slowly, and as quietly as we could, our train of survivors crept through the tunnels. Our flashlights that Ben had found were pathetically dim, and frequently flickered out, sounding with a loud clunk whenever someone whacked it awake. Icy water dripped from the long tangled hairs of wriggling moss that clung to and between the bricks, the lights illuminating white lice-like that lived within the tangle.
Splashing was the only sound we heard for a long time, along with someone’s horrid cough. He was in the back of the line, far behind me, but kept coughing and groaning. Others frequently shushed him, louder than he coughed. But for all the good their efforts to keep him quiet were, it paled in comparison to Kelayo’s odd excitement. When I inquired her about her unusual positivity, she admitted fascination over the many accounts of average Humans combatting the supernatural evils that threatened Earth. How we could survive on a planet infested with the dead with only equally dark magicks astounded her, despite our culture not having widespread knowledge or application of this means of survival. It was faint, but she had nodded at the book. Why did I still have this disgusting leatherback that seemed to shiver in the cold?
I apologize for any impact I may have had on diplomatic relations with the Delridians, but I said some uncouth remarks about the whole situation and the book. I flipped it open to a random page to give an example, forgetting in my annoyance just how dark it was in the tunnels. But that ink… that horrid archaic stain… was fully legible. I admit I came to a stop in awe, though shortlived as the train of people behind me bumped into me. That coughing was gone.
So were half the people we had been travelling with. Kelayo glanced around with a chitter. She was having too much fun with the spooky, and now we heard skittering and scrape scrape scraping on the bricks. Vanessa fired a shot down the tunnel and urged us to run, so we did.
We were near the landing bay when we ducked into a sideroom per Kelayo’s prompting, and shoved a convenient table in the way of the door. The skittering was above us on the ground floor too, and then someone grabbed my foot. It may have been Mark. Well, the part of Mark I dropped.
Long gnarled fingers covered in dirt were the hallmark of these freaky things. Human hands with a life of their own, skittering around like bugs as they fled the flashlight’s beam and sought dark corners. These shelters included their unholy wriggling up our pants and jackets, some grips strong and muscular, and others gentle and cautious. If you have ever had a massage, you may never want one again once a chilly, slimy, dismembered hand tries to nest between your shoulder blades.
Vanessa fired off a few shots in her desperate attempt to keep the grabby hands off, though she nicked Ben’s ear in the process. The loud noise scattered the skitterhands enough for us to fling the last few from our persons. Vanessa slammed the book I still carried, ordering me to read it. She had lost her copy early on, but had the gist of its contents.
The ink on the book was darkest on one particular page, with a weird symbol that looked like it said XOOD. An old-Earth linguist may understand it better than I. Kelayo was forced to provide guidance, as she was the expert on the book, and with many, many attempts, and a dark horde gathering upstairs, were ready to begin. Vanessa was out of shots in her gun, and Ben and Dwayne were futiley pushing back the horde of impossible crewmen. These people smelled horribly of rotten meat, and overtook Ben first, followed swiftly by Dwayne.
Vanessa had backed into a corner, clearly scared. I can’t blame her, since I was, too. But I couldn’t move, couldn’t join her in the false safety of the corner. The rotten crew… this dead crew, was in the room with us, and were already grabbing me. Amidst the noise and confusion, I could hear Vanessa being attacked behind me, and the dull nails of my own assailants tearing at my skin. Kelayo, her form thin and dark, simply stood amidst the dead.
Read it, she said.
Say it with all your heart.
I remember the word that pierced the world that day, but can’t remember saying it. But my throat burns whenever I utter it now. BARASHAKUSHU. The dead froze in place, their fingers dug deep into my skin. BARASHAKUSHU. Limp, lifeless, just as they should be. BARASHAKUSHU. The haze in the air, even in the basement, lifted. BARASHAKUSHU. Vanessa breathed deep as I pulled her from the bodies and out the house to the crowded, lifeless street.
We limped, though we did not bleed, filled with holes and grime, and caked in blood. Kelayo followed wraithlike behind us, always ten paces behind. The landing bay was before us. Our ship and salvation was before us.
Diplomat Weathers was fine, though alarmed at our state. Delridian doctors tended to us as we explained what happened. A full transcript is available via the ship’s DIA-Log.
When all was said and done, the Delridian diplomat thanked us for being so willing to open discourse. To celebrate successful talks between our species, he offered us a parting feast. He motioned Kaleyo over, who had apparently been tasked with researching Human culture for the talks.
She explained over dinner about how she had poured over a stunning variety of Human dishes from our many cultures, but that she had settled on one that appeared to be a universal favorite. An Italian dish of long, stringy noodles over their equivalent of a white cream sauce. And dinner was fantastic! But Kaleyo seemed confused as well, stating that she had a difficult time picking out the right recipe. The instructions were apparently all over the place with a lot of strange steps that seemed superfluous to food preparation.
I asked her what she meant, to which she replied, “The base ingredients were simple, almost mundane. Of note, the various rituals in the preparation exhausted many of our best doctors. Some are still seeking treatment after one batch escaped. You Humans have a very strange culture of food, especially with the names. I believe you called this one… creepy pasta?”
Then the meatball on my fork blinked at me.
submitted by Muninn_Crow to HFY [link] [comments]
Delri Prima is the homeworld of the Delridians, a tall, lanky race who look like the grimdark cousins of a Star Wars Kaminoan. Brilliant medics, they apparently don’t see a difference between medical work and diplomacy, seeing both fields as the healing arts. Their medicocracy has a long list of accomplishments throughout the galaxy, enough that it’d look like an 18-hour credit reel on a movie. My guess is that they may have been the “Humans” of the galaxy preceding us before they finally settled, and rumors have it that the K’kituun Death Puppets are an ancient offshoot from their early days on the galactic stage.
But more to the point, after about 180 years on the galactic stage, Humanity has made a decent name for ourselves as the handyman and eccentric nerd. We are celebrated, thrown strange looks, worried glances, and altogether treated as small children. Though with the destruction of Axtroxia, they may want to worry about what will happen when we hit puberty. The Delridians have already been through that, though they were never as eccentric as we are.
They reached out to Humanity with a diplomatic frigate appropriately named Olive Branch about a year ago. I’ve learned they like to reflect the cultures they are talking to, so as to ease negotiations. Can’t imagine what the Atroxian equivalent was. Probably something like ‘Torn Heads’. Regardless, Diplomat Weathers was finally selected as the Earth delegate to talk on Delri Prima, and oh boy. That is a dark world. Like, bring a flashlight dark. I don’t know whether it is the slow spin of the planet, or the climate generators they have, but the entire twilight band is just dark and grey. It rains, and thankfully it is safe water, but it is eerie. From the embassy city they built to make us more comfortable, you can look out across the Delridian jungle and see the many other diplomatic cities slowly being devoured by the vines and trees.
The first night was fine, though I’m not sure any of us slept well. We were each provided a separate room or, well, house really. The entire city was made of a cold stone, themed after some old Italian city on Earth. The wind slipped through the narrow streets with a soft whistle, bringing with it a faint jungle fog. Somewhere down the street was a clattering window shutter, but with how much stone they used, and the strange alignment of the streets, you could hear a pin drop from eight blocks away!
Talks went well for the first three days as Diplomat Weathers and the Delridians got to know each other. I met with and discussed a number of cultural similarities with a member of the alien entourage, a Nurse Kelayo, when I wasn’t with the others in my group exploring the city. She was very proud of the settlement they built for us, but in our talks, she asked what we thought of the book. What book?
Well, after having a wonderful meal with my coworkers and some of the alien entourage, we said our farewells and parted ways. Kelayo was vague, but had explained how they had acquired a copy of the book, and that she hoped that we enjoyed the effort she put into it.
I didn’t look into it immediately when I returned to the lonely, lifeless house that was my quarters. Mark was my closest neighbor, and he was a block down. The Delridians, fresh from talks with the Hordun, thought we may want some privacy from each other. And while it is nice not having to hear Mark snore in the cabin like on the flight here, the house was a little… too private.
It was as I was preparing to turn off the light to go to sleep that I thought to look in the nightstand beside me. Kelayo had told us about the book, and when I opened the top drawer, it was indeed there. Sitting center and alone was an old Earth book of gnarled leather and no visible title. Whatever poor creature the Delridians had used to make the cover had terrible skin!
Opening the book, I found it to have been printed in an old dialect of English from before the Third World War, with some much older words I did not recognize. It certainly looked like it was printed in the archaic methods of old Earth, with wet ink instead of modern digital ink that provided touch-based pseudo-memoric context.
I began to flip through the pages of this strange book, turning up the brightness on the nightstand lamp to see better. The faded pages of the book looked sick and moldy, and my skin crawled just touching it, but the letters, despite the stains and grunge, seemed to pop from the page in crisp black. In fact, the ink was so black that it felt like I was staring into the void with each letter. Kelayo’s book was some archaic text of old Earth culture from the end of the 20th century, though I did not recognize the name. Written by a Bishop Simon from some archaic cult or religion, the book functioned as a “spellbook” like a deepdive virtual reality fantasy game might have. It was filled with a plethora of gods I did not recognize, and a ton of phonetic gibberish that sounded good when said, but easily complicated.
I hadn’t gotten too far when I heard a man’s scream next to me. Jumping out of my skin, I found no one there. But I remembered where I was, and crept to the window. It was Mark’s voice, more panicky than I had ever heard him. Peeking through the slats of the window, I scanned the street towards Mark’s place. The light was on, and someone was shuffling down the street, murmuring in pain.
Rushing down to the street, I rushed out to help him. Mark’s mutterings were too quiet, and he was holding something to his chest. It may have been a minute before I collected myself and tried to get answers from him, but you have to understand, I’ve never seen a dying man before. Not in real life. In the dim and permanent gloom, I could barely make out the trail of blood behind him. He pleaded again and again, and I had to find out where he was injured, and what it was he was carrying.
I went to take what he held, only to realized that in my own fervor to aid him I still had that creepy book. I put that down to wrench free Mark’s own possession. I really wish I hadn’t, for his grip was weak, with only one hand. I held his other, and everything above it.
My own voice was the next I heard echoing down the street as I most certainly fell backwards. Sorry Mark, but I lost your arm. Well, your first one. The second is decorating some chandelier somewhere, courtesy of Vanessa.
Please understand that for anyone in my situation, gorey horror was never my fancy, and I hope no one in the auditing board holds it against me. I would bet credits that any of you would have done much the same as I did.
Time is… unreliable on Delri Prima, with its twilit band and gloom. The only thing that moves is that blasted fog. And the vines. Especially the vines. I’m not sure how long I ran, but Vanessa was the one to find me, flanked by a street littered with Human bodies. Far more people than joined us on the crew… I think. You might want to review the ship manifest just to be sure.
Vanessa, once she verified my identity, guided me through the littered street, still gurgling and reaching out to us. Give her a raise, by the way. She’s the one that got us out of there. We met up with Dwayne and Harry, both armed with metal pipes and whatever other junk they salvaged, and we retreated to a boarded up house with other surviving members of the crew. They were glad to see me, though I don’t remember who they were. Many were new faces to the ship for this mission.
We settled here for hours? A day? Our comms were filled with static, and we couldn’t reach Mr. Weathers to see if he was ok. We needed to get off this planet. Someone mentioned that the ship was still parked at the landing bay. All eyes turned to someone in the back of the group, who slowly stood up, her form long and lanky. Kelayo, the Delridian nurse.
Vanessa worked with Kelayo on a plan to move through the city to the landing bay, while the rest of us sought supplies. This house had a basement, connected to a series of tunnels which we would use to slip under whatever muttering, mumbling horrors pleaded us to come outside.
Slowly, and as quietly as we could, our train of survivors crept through the tunnels. Our flashlights that Ben had found were pathetically dim, and frequently flickered out, sounding with a loud clunk whenever someone whacked it awake. Icy water dripped from the long tangled hairs of wriggling moss that clung to and between the bricks, the lights illuminating white lice-like that lived within the tangle.
Splashing was the only sound we heard for a long time, along with someone’s horrid cough. He was in the back of the line, far behind me, but kept coughing and groaning. Others frequently shushed him, louder than he coughed. But for all the good their efforts to keep him quiet were, it paled in comparison to Kelayo’s odd excitement. When I inquired her about her unusual positivity, she admitted fascination over the many accounts of average Humans combatting the supernatural evils that threatened Earth. How we could survive on a planet infested with the dead with only equally dark magicks astounded her, despite our culture not having widespread knowledge or application of this means of survival. It was faint, but she had nodded at the book. Why did I still have this disgusting leatherback that seemed to shiver in the cold?
I apologize for any impact I may have had on diplomatic relations with the Delridians, but I said some uncouth remarks about the whole situation and the book. I flipped it open to a random page to give an example, forgetting in my annoyance just how dark it was in the tunnels. But that ink… that horrid archaic stain… was fully legible. I admit I came to a stop in awe, though shortlived as the train of people behind me bumped into me. That coughing was gone.
So were half the people we had been travelling with. Kelayo glanced around with a chitter. She was having too much fun with the spooky, and now we heard skittering and scrape scrape scraping on the bricks. Vanessa fired a shot down the tunnel and urged us to run, so we did.
We were near the landing bay when we ducked into a sideroom per Kelayo’s prompting, and shoved a convenient table in the way of the door. The skittering was above us on the ground floor too, and then someone grabbed my foot. It may have been Mark. Well, the part of Mark I dropped.
Long gnarled fingers covered in dirt were the hallmark of these freaky things. Human hands with a life of their own, skittering around like bugs as they fled the flashlight’s beam and sought dark corners. These shelters included their unholy wriggling up our pants and jackets, some grips strong and muscular, and others gentle and cautious. If you have ever had a massage, you may never want one again once a chilly, slimy, dismembered hand tries to nest between your shoulder blades.
Vanessa fired off a few shots in her desperate attempt to keep the grabby hands off, though she nicked Ben’s ear in the process. The loud noise scattered the skitterhands enough for us to fling the last few from our persons. Vanessa slammed the book I still carried, ordering me to read it. She had lost her copy early on, but had the gist of its contents.
The ink on the book was darkest on one particular page, with a weird symbol that looked like it said XOOD. An old-Earth linguist may understand it better than I. Kelayo was forced to provide guidance, as she was the expert on the book, and with many, many attempts, and a dark horde gathering upstairs, were ready to begin. Vanessa was out of shots in her gun, and Ben and Dwayne were futiley pushing back the horde of impossible crewmen. These people smelled horribly of rotten meat, and overtook Ben first, followed swiftly by Dwayne.
Vanessa had backed into a corner, clearly scared. I can’t blame her, since I was, too. But I couldn’t move, couldn’t join her in the false safety of the corner. The rotten crew… this dead crew, was in the room with us, and were already grabbing me. Amidst the noise and confusion, I could hear Vanessa being attacked behind me, and the dull nails of my own assailants tearing at my skin. Kelayo, her form thin and dark, simply stood amidst the dead.
Read it, she said.
Say it with all your heart.
I remember the word that pierced the world that day, but can’t remember saying it. But my throat burns whenever I utter it now. BARASHAKUSHU. The dead froze in place, their fingers dug deep into my skin. BARASHAKUSHU. Limp, lifeless, just as they should be. BARASHAKUSHU. The haze in the air, even in the basement, lifted. BARASHAKUSHU. Vanessa breathed deep as I pulled her from the bodies and out the house to the crowded, lifeless street.
We limped, though we did not bleed, filled with holes and grime, and caked in blood. Kelayo followed wraithlike behind us, always ten paces behind. The landing bay was before us. Our ship and salvation was before us.
Diplomat Weathers was fine, though alarmed at our state. Delridian doctors tended to us as we explained what happened. A full transcript is available via the ship’s DIA-Log.
When all was said and done, the Delridian diplomat thanked us for being so willing to open discourse. To celebrate successful talks between our species, he offered us a parting feast. He motioned Kaleyo over, who had apparently been tasked with researching Human culture for the talks.
She explained over dinner about how she had poured over a stunning variety of Human dishes from our many cultures, but that she had settled on one that appeared to be a universal favorite. An Italian dish of long, stringy noodles over their equivalent of a white cream sauce. And dinner was fantastic! But Kaleyo seemed confused as well, stating that she had a difficult time picking out the right recipe. The instructions were apparently all over the place with a lot of strange steps that seemed superfluous to food preparation.
I asked her what she meant, to which she replied, “The base ingredients were simple, almost mundane. Of note, the various rituals in the preparation exhausted many of our best doctors. Some are still seeking treatment after one batch escaped. You Humans have a very strange culture of food, especially with the names. I believe you called this one… creepy pasta?”
Then the meatball on my fork blinked at me.
2024.06.02 04:46 NickNiaz The company that I work at made me sign a mandate stating If I don't complete one year at this company , then they are not liable to carry out any standard exit formalities. Is this legal. If so how is it going to affect me in future background verification processes.
I am currently working at a startup. It has a very toxic working environment and most of my team members have left and I am stuck here. I have been doing work of 2 persons since my fellow developer left (It's been more than a month and they still haven't hired anybody) and it has taken mental as well as physical toll on my health.
When joining there was a clause in the appointment letter stating - "Termination of Employment: You are employed with a mandate of minimum period of 12 months from the day of signing off and accepting the offer. In case the employee fails to adhere to the aforementioned condition in this clause, the Company is not liable to carry out any of its standard exit formalities for the employee, with no questions asked by the employee to the management of the Company and will be entitled to pay the salary of the three months, The decision of the management of the Company shall be final and legally binding in this regard."
I intend to leave the company as soon as possible. So I was wondering if this is mandate is legal or not. If it is, since they are not carrying out any standard exit formalities am I considered absconding from the company even if I resign. If so, why should I even consider serving notice period of 3 months? Suggest me if any legal ways in which I might be able to get the exit formalities done. Thanks.
submitted by NickNiaz to LegalAdviceIndia [link] [comments]
When joining there was a clause in the appointment letter stating - "Termination of Employment: You are employed with a mandate of minimum period of 12 months from the day of signing off and accepting the offer. In case the employee fails to adhere to the aforementioned condition in this clause, the Company is not liable to carry out any of its standard exit formalities for the employee, with no questions asked by the employee to the management of the Company and will be entitled to pay the salary of the three months, The decision of the management of the Company shall be final and legally binding in this regard."
I intend to leave the company as soon as possible. So I was wondering if this is mandate is legal or not. If it is, since they are not carrying out any standard exit formalities am I considered absconding from the company even if I resign. If so, why should I even consider serving notice period of 3 months? Suggest me if any legal ways in which I might be able to get the exit formalities done. Thanks.
2024.06.02 04:42 Embarrassed-Rush8390 Willing to Help Students
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lf clients, para sa any activity nyo I'm here po budget friendly, open po ko sa rush and non rush activity or project. PM MEE 🫶
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submitted by Embarrassed-Rush8390 to studying [link] [comments]
lf clients, para sa any activity nyo I'm here po budget friendly, open po ko sa rush and non rush activity or project. PM MEE 🫶
•RESEARCH/THESIS •RRL •FEASIBILITY STUDY •CASE STUDY •CONCEPTUAL PAPER •TRANS / NOTES •ESSAY •REFLECTION PAPER •RESUME • INFOGRAPHIC • BROCHURE •REACTION PAPER •POSITION PAPER •REVISION •POEM •SPEECH • RESIGNATION LETTER • COVER LETTER • MODULES FROM GRADE 1 TO 3RD YEAR COLLEGE
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2024.06.02 04:39 Magicmurlin USAID Contractor Resigns After Presentation on Maternal & Child Mortality in Gaza Canceled
 | Professional careerist and phony anti-genocide super hero, Samantha Powers heads a key US agency providing diplomatic cover for the first live streamed genocide in history. submitted by Magicmurlin to u/Magicmurlin [link] [comments] One contractor, Alex Smith, is fed up. He quit last week rather than be an accomplice to a genocide. One day before he was scheduled to present, the USAID leadership canceled his presentation. Smith says he was then given a choice between resignation and dismissal. “I would like them to stop gaslighting and speak truthfully about what is happening,” says Smith, who says USAID must do more than acknowledge famine is happening in Gaza. “We need to take the next step of saying it is illegal and who is doing the starvation intentionally.” Smith condemns the Biden administration for silencing U.S. experts while supporting Israel, which claims there is no famine in Gaza. “It’s shameful that that misinformation can go around the world to millions, while we at USAID can’t even whisper about it in a conference on gender and human rights and health outcomes.” https://www.democracynow.org/2024/5/31/alex_smith_usaid_resignation_gaza_war https://www.documentcloud.org/documents/24712898-alexander-smith-resignation-letter |
2024.06.02 04:37 Embarrassed-Rush8390 LF Clients especially Academics!
Hello Everyone 📑
lf clients, para sa any activity nyo I'm here po budget friendly, open po ko sa rush and non rush activity or project. PM MEE 🫶
•RESEARCH/THESIS •RRL •FEASIBILITY STUDY •CASE STUDY •CONCEPTUAL PAPER •TRANS / NOTES •ESSAY •REFLECTION PAPER •RESUME • INFOGRAPHIC • BROCHURE •REACTION PAPER •POSITION PAPER •REVISION •POEM •SPEECH • RESIGNATION LETTER • COVER LETTER • MODULES FROM GRADE 1 TO 3RD YEAR COLLEGE
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submitted by Embarrassed-Rush8390 to buhaydigital [link] [comments]
lf clients, para sa any activity nyo I'm here po budget friendly, open po ko sa rush and non rush activity or project. PM MEE 🫶
•RESEARCH/THESIS •RRL •FEASIBILITY STUDY •CASE STUDY •CONCEPTUAL PAPER •TRANS / NOTES •ESSAY •REFLECTION PAPER •RESUME • INFOGRAPHIC • BROCHURE •REACTION PAPER •POSITION PAPER •REVISION •POEM •SPEECH • RESIGNATION LETTER • COVER LETTER • MODULES FROM GRADE 1 TO 3RD YEAR COLLEGE
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2024.06.02 04:35 Embarrassed-Rush8390 LF CLIENTS
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lf clients, para sa any activity nyo I'm here po budget friendly, open po ko sa rush and non rush activity or project. PM MEE 🫶
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submitted by Embarrassed-Rush8390 to classifiedsph [link] [comments]
lf clients, para sa any activity nyo I'm here po budget friendly, open po ko sa rush and non rush activity or project. PM MEE 🫶
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2024.06.02 04:24 TheRealTacoSwag Falsely Accused of Academic Dishonesty (Cheating)
About 4 years ago I was in a nursing program in my area and was falsely accused of "Academic Dishonesty" because I was helping a fellow student understand some of the material from a quiz that was already finished in a student group chat. One of my classmates reported me to school faculty and I received a message stating I was being placed on Academic probation pending investigation by the Dean. There were several letters submitted on my behalf, including one from the professor who was teaching the course who noted that she did not believe what I did was considered cheating. Despite all of this the Dean decided to expel me from the program and now it is on my record forever. I went through the appeals process, but the same person who made the initial decision was responsible for making a decision on the appeal, so it went nowhere. I was considering applying for another nursing program, but browsing through forums I see many people stating there is ZERO chance I would be accepted into another program and reading those has me in tears. My questions here are:
Is it too late to hire an attorney on this matter? and if so is it worth it?
Is it still possible to be accepted into another program?
What would you have done (or do) if you were in this situation?
Any response would be greatly appreciated!
submitted by TheRealTacoSwag to StudentNurse [link] [comments]
Is it too late to hire an attorney on this matter? and if so is it worth it?
Is it still possible to be accepted into another program?
What would you have done (or do) if you were in this situation?
Any response would be greatly appreciated!
2024.06.02 02:35 AMETSFAN The 1868 Democratic National Convention The Rail Splitter
 | After losing the election of 1860, the Democrats had been on a perpetual downslide culminating in a humiliating defeat in the 1866 Midterms and reduced to holding only 11% of the Senate. But, the nomination of James Blaine and the discord it caused within the Republican ranks gave the party hope in the battle for the White House. But, the divisions in the party between region and ideology would remain and would be exacerbated by the 2/3rds rule. Further complications would come with 90 Pro-Johnson delegates from the RNC who declared support for the Democrats and asked to be seated as proper Convention. To the horror of ex-Congressman George Pendleton’s supporters, Convention Chairman Horatio Seymour agreed to let them be added in full, widely seen as a maneuver for the nomination of Supreme Court Chief Justice Salmon P. Chase and to stop the Western Democrats. submitted by AMETSFAN to Presidentialpoll [link] [comments] Convention Chairman Horatio Seymour was widely seen as Chase's strongest ally. Beginning on July 4th and in the infamous Tammany Hall, the DNC would see its frontrunner decline to enter the 1st ballot with Kate Chase, Justice Chase’s daughter, not wishing to risk Chase’s momentum failing so early. Thus, Pendleton was expected to perform well on the first ballots with Chase’s supporters assuming his support would dry up over time. But, Pendleton would do shockingly badly with a first ballot plurality quickly giving way to a rapid decline in delegate numbers as the efforts of Gold Democrats in the Midwest and the influence of newly seated delegates showed. Pendleton would lose the lead on the 3rd ballot and not come close to regaining it. With favorite sons galore dominating the scene, General Winfield Scott Hancock would take a largely unimportant lead over fellow candidate Thomas Hendricks until Hendricks dropped out on the 8th ballot. The 9th ballot would see Justice Chase’s name finally entered into nomination as his home state of Ohio briefly flirted with Chairman Seymour, only for Seymour to strongly decline. With Seymour out of the race for good, Ohio and New York would quickly back Chase along with delegates in New England, New Jersey, and even unexpected support from Midwestern and Southern states from disenchanted Republicans, Hendricks supporters, and scalawag delegates as the favorite son candidacies. Chase’s 9th ballot would see him rocket towards the required 2/3rds faster than his daughter, Kate, could have expected. The 10th ballot would see Chase pick up the delegation of Wisconsin, and pass the requisite number for nomination. Kate Chase Sprague, Chief Justice Chase's daughter, would be the brains behind his political effort. In his acceptance letter to the convention- sent quickly after his resignation letter from the Supreme Court, Chase would outline his broad commitment to the preservation of civil rights, his belief in states’ rights and that Southern states could fight domestic terrorism, his support for universal suffrage on principle while only endorsing it on a state level, and pardoning all remaining Confederates including Jefferson Davis. On economics, Chase would first affirm his stance in favor of the Gold Standard, payment of public debt as rapidly as possible, lower tariffs, and a Jacksonian commitment to opposing monopolies, fair taxation, and an unexpected denunciation of unfair prison conditions and support for education funding (notably avoiding his support for women’s rights.) Electoral realities would quickly narrow down the Vice Presidential nomination. With Chase from Ohio, a Vice President from New York was almost mandated for the Democrats to remain competitive despite fears of alienating Western voters due to currency and being unable to win the South due to the GOP’s extensive patronage network. Thus, several New Yorkers would be the primary candidates despite pleas from Pendleton forces for an inflationist and anti-Reconstruction Hancock supporters wanting a man of their own. With Samuel Tilden uninterested and Horatio Seymour even more so, Francis Kernan and Samuel S. Cox were the main candidates. With Kernan’s Catholicism deemed an issue by party leaders, Cox would be favored for the Vice Presidential nomination. Despite challenges from Hancock supporters who favored either Francis Preston Blair Jr. or Congressman Charles R. Buckalew and Pendleton supporters who favored Thomas Ewing Jr, Cox would be nominated on the 2nd ballot. For President: Salmon P. Chase https://preview.redd.it/bqgcd14f024d1.png?width=1024&format=png&auto=webp&s=52cb2135958cda1d81768dd8c578ae0f59e12158 For Vice President: Samuel S. Cox https://preview.redd.it/kprzb9cd024d1.png?width=1024&format=png&auto=webp&s=7a5b22607edb420cb74414079589e4de44e9ace7 |
2024.06.02 02:34 kayenano The Villainess Is An SS+ Rank Adventurer: Chapter 247
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Synopsis:
Juliette Contzen is a lazy, good-for-nothing princess. Overshadowed by her siblings, she's left with little to do but nap, read … and occasionally cut the falling raindrops with her sword. Spotted one day by an astonished adventurer, he insists on grading Juliette's swordsmanship, then promptly has a mental breakdown at the result.
Soon after, Juliette is given the news that her kingdom is on the brink of bankruptcy. At threat of being married off, the lazy princess vows to do whatever it takes to maintain her current lifestyle, and taking matters into her own hands, escapes in the middle of the night in order to restore her kingdom's finances.
Tags: Comedy, Adventure, Action, Fantasy, Copious Ohohohohos.
Chapter 247: Subjective Mercy
Dawn was a novelty to Renise.
Not because she was a late riser. On the contrary, she readily woke up before even the alley cats of Reitzlake. And they were nothing if not prompt in securing their territory.
It’s just that any dawn was hard to admire while she was crawling beneath the streets.
That’s not to say she didn’t get to see anything just as glamorous, though. In the sewers beneath the cracked cobblestone of Pennyvale Road and Sipton Corner, she often saw enough stolen gold tucked away to form a sight brighter than any morning.
And once, she even found a die with 20 sides. She thought that was very interesting.
Thus, even as the sun peeked across the horizon, Renise barely paid any attention. Especially as doing so would remind her of exactly how many hours it’d been since she last slept.
But she had no right to complain.
After all–
“Hoooph!”
The guards requisitioned to her service couldn’t.
Even now, their eyes were as wide as when she’d brought them here. And not all of it from shame that a large smuggling operation had taken place upon their doorstep.
They wiped sweat from their brows as they hauled the proceeds of crime from the depths of tunnels, the corners of barns and the hidden hatches found between them. All the while, Renise was there to assist, searching each nook and cranny to ensure that every mug rimmed with cobwebs and filled with pilfered gemstones was recovered.
The result was a sight grander than the pale light stretching across the horizon. A veritable mountain of recovered goods, stacked in semi-organised fashion in the centre of the farmstead.
No fields of wheat grew as of yet. But that didn’t mean there was no golden gleam.
The chests of crowns in Baroness Arisa’s chamber was the mainstay of the haul. A cursory examination placed the amount grand enough to purchase half a castle outright. But Renise knew it wasn’t a castle the baroness had wanted. It was a kingdom–and more.
That’s what the rest of the goods were for.
Sacks and crates unending. Enough grain and foodstuffs to last many winters and more. Had she wished to, the baroness could have sheltered in her hole and sat through whatever calamity she’d wished to trigger. Or she could have used it in lieu of gold when stomachs were empty and hearts were hard, to feed crowds of rioting commoners or the loyalty of wavering soldiers.
A scheme as audacious as it was unlikely. And thus very much devised by nobility.
Renise understood that well.
Just as she understood that nobility rarely allowed themselves to dream of an empire without guarantees in place. And she intended on querying what they were, and who had offered them.
Turning from the mound of gathered items, she made her way over to the girl huddling beside the steps of her stolen and dilapidated manor.
With her knees up, arms wrapped around them and face buried in said arms for good measure, Baroness Arisa Sandholt was less a noblewoman fallen at the final hurdle of a grand scheme and more a girl who had not been told ‘no’ enough times to understand the consequences of her actions.
And there would be many. More than her hands could hope to manage.
After all–
Renise had read Juliette’s judgement.
The former noblewoman approached the girl under guard. She nodded at the tired watchers. And when they left to join their colleagues in taxing their shoulders, she knelt down to look at the kingdom’s most recent shadow of Lady Lucina Tolent.
And what a poor one it was.
Still, Renise grimaced on the baroness’s behalf.
Despite recent events, she held little personal acrimony towards her. Neither smuggling nor treason were new concepts, after all. The scale was grander than what remained of the plots in the royal capital. But this simply meant more bureaucracy. Renise would live. And so would the baroness, should she not recklessly throw away what the princess’s mercy was willing to offer.
Mercy, of course, being subjective.
Still kneeling beside her, Renise attempted to peer past the buried face, almost akin to a teacher with a sulking child.
Then, she sighed.
“Baroness Arisa Sandholt. It is demeaning for you to remain like this. If nothing else, I invite you to sit upon the steps. There’s no need to dirty yourself upon the soil. Particularly as it’ll be some time before we’re finished here.”
Renise waited for an acknowledgement. Or more preferably a finger pointing out the hidden corners she’d doubtless missed.
She received nothing. And so she resigned herself to however many nights it’d require to fully empty out the tunnels.
This, also, was nothing new to her.
“... Uuuuh …”
All of a sudden, a weak, pitiable groan came from the baroness, still unseen behind her knees.
Renise wasn’t certain what to do other than hope for a follow-up. When it didn’t arrive, she instead brushed down her maid’s uniform of any dirt, before promptly undoing it by taking a seat beside the baroness, knees up and thoroughly uncomfortable.
“I notice the grounds are quite extensive,” she said lightly. “An impressive thing you’ve built, for one whose family lineage is pouring ales. May I ask how the career change to smuggling came about?”
No sound met her, other than the huffing of the beleaguered guards as they toiled like farmers beneath the sun.
Renise leaned in to pluck a leaf from the baroness’s hair.
She responded by slowly falling onto her side, still with her face buried around her legs. A perfect imitation of a shrivelled up caterpillar. Renise had a feeling the princess would have commented. She herself kindly chose not to.
For now.
“... Uuuuuuuuuuuhhhhh …”
Again, a weak groan of despair filled the crisp air alight with the early dawn.
Again, Renise wasn’t sure what the correct response was.
She’d known many members of the nobility to have fallen while clutching themselves in agony, most often after being rejected to a dance. And yet as emotionally damaging as those instances were, they paled in comparison to the distress of having her private gallery revealed to the same princess her portraits consisted of.
But it could have been worse.
She wasn’t sure how. But it could have been.
“Baroness Arisa,” said Renise, attempting to speak with a slightly more scolding tone. “This is far too belittling. Until you have been formally stripped of your title, you are still a member of this kingdom’s nobility–whether or not you wish it. You do yourself little favours by remaining as you are.”
At last, the baroness lifted her face away from her knees. She didn’t raise herself from the ground.
Puffy eyes unused to the unyielding dawn met her. And also cheeks still blotchy with humiliation. And then lips quivering with the strength required to form words.
“... My life is over,” she said, her voice strangled with grief.
“You do not know that, Baroness Arisa.”
The girl shook her head, golden hair flailing upon the dirt.
“My life is over,” she merely repeated, her eyes becoming distant and hollow. “The princess … she saw … all my portraits … it’s all over …”
Renise watched as what dignity remained slowly drained before her.
She decided to put a stop to it before she became a withered slug.
After all, the princess in question still had uses for her.
“Your life isn’t yours to judge,” she said, standing up before the baroness. “But it is the 3rd Princess’s. Would you care to know it?”
Renise unfurled a letter from the pockets only her uniform defied impracticality enough to possess.
The baroness uncurled herself slightly, the better to see the back of the letter. Even so, she made no effort to reach for it.
With a sigh, Renise looked over the neatly written edict and began to read.
To Baroness (Insert Name) Arisa Sandholt,
I would like to extend my gratitude for the paintings donated as badly needed furnishing for Soap Island and its inhabitants. This act of charity has not gone unnoticed.
In order to further develop your talents with a brush, I hereby command that you take up position as artist-in-residence upon Soap Island, where you shall have the freedom of its golden beaches, open air, and time enough to paint to your heart’s desire. As long as the paintings are of me.
Upon creation of a work I judge to be satisfactory, I shall deem your rehabilitation complete.
Please note this is an unpaid residency.
Princess Juliette Contzen.
Renise had filled in the bit with the missing name.
For a moment, she did nothing but wait for the baroness’s response. It was slow to come. But when it did, it was with both hands raised to her mouth, unable to hide the despair which came from it.
Indeed, it was a sentence which offered little hope of release.
The stipulation of release was both poetic and severe. For the only way the baroness could ever hope to create a sufficient painting was to first remove her pride and her malice. To be commanded to do what she previously did in twisted animosity would surely result in nothing but empty canvases from this moment on, such was the egoism of nobility.
But there was more to this than meets the eye.
Indeed … Renise had no doubt about the princess’s intentions.
The stipulation for a work to be judged as satisfactory was merely a ruse. The day the baroness realised the error of her ways and painted a single portrait, Renise had no doubt it would be accepted as proof of her atonement.
Such subtlety, doubtless woven from all her days at the royal court … Renise could only acknowledge it with envy–as could the baroness, who only now slowly sat up upon the dirt.
Except there was one problem.
“The princess … wishes for me to paint her?”
Her voice came out as barely a squeak, still covered by her hands, and yet those grey eyes were as wide as the very sun now cresting the horizon.
“She does, yes,” answered Renise, hearing the caution in her own voice.
A moment of silence passed between them.
The baroness reached up for the letter. Renise offered it, then waited as the girl’s eyes ran across the words, barely pausing at the scribbled amendment to her name at the top.
“The princess … she extends her gratitude for what I have painted.”
“So she does.”
“She wishes for them to be used as decoration.”
Renise slowly nodded.
In truth, she was still extremely unsure about the entire matter of what … Soap Island was. But the princess had been insistent that the existing paintings be sent there.
“That is correct … yes.”
Renise said nothing more.
Ordinarily, she would be wishing the girl a heartfelt plea to understand the mercy shown to her. And to hope that in time, she would come to understand the folly of her pride. Particularly as the baroness’s hands began to shake, crumpling the letter.
Ordinarily.
Because those hands were not shaking with clear resentment.
“This letter … is for me.”
Renise pursed her lips.
“Yes, it is.”
“I … I thought she would exile me … or merely forget again I existed the moment her back was turned.”
“Your crimes are not so little that she could allow you to be.”
“Indeed … she acknowledges me. My talents. She … She wishes for an even finer portrait.”
A moment later–
The baroness brought the letter close to her … and tightly held it against chest as her lips quivered into a zany smile. The puffiness upon her cheeks vanished, replaced only with a shine as radiant as the sun.
And then, her eyes grew hazy as she stared into the distance at the back of one who had long since left.
Yes.
The princess had made a grave error.
This baroness … would not hesitate to paint more of her.
She would not hesitate to paint until she’d created a portrait so fine that it could match the Plafond De Dix Mille Cygnes painted upon the vestibule of the Reitzlake Cathedral. Renise knew this with as much certainty in her heart as the effort it would take to forget this conversation ever occurred.
But she could not do so yet.
Not while she still had questions to ask. And none regarding the preoccupation with the princess.
The baroness had not acted alone. There were those who helped to pry open both her purse strings and her mind to this misadventure.
Renise expected few helpful answers.
The baroness may have dreamt of an empire. But she was a pawn upon a board where another was already lined to take her place. And those who played at intrigue and lived beyond a night were not known for idle gossip.
A trying task.
Although Rose House was named in opposition to the lotuses from the east, she knew full well that she possessed no thorn which could hope to prick the shadows so heavy that they stifled all who sought to grow against them.
Until now, that is.
Renise would not allow the princess’s charity to go to waste.
There was much she had to do before the two paramount smugglers of the kingdom could be offered a stay of execution. A conversation with the Crown Prince being one of them. But it would involve no pleading tears. Only words as cold as the iron her parents were currently shackled to.
But first things first.
She could not return while any tasks lay unfinished. That would be an indictment against all of them.
“Ahem … Baroness Arisa, I’ve matters of importance to discuss with you before you are sent to perform the princess’s wishes. And should you desire her added gratitude, you would do well to answer them.”
The baroness ceased hugging her letter. Broken from her temporary stupor, the smile slowly faded from her lips as she looked up.
And then continued to look up.
Because as the light cresting Renise’s shoulders became cold, and the joy of spring which played upon the ends of her hair faded and died, all which could be seen of the baroness was her faraway eyes as she stared tellingly at the dimming horizon.
In that moment, whatever questions Renise had were all shortly replaced by a single one.
“… Why is it suddenly so dark?”
She turned around.
And then she paled … as she witnessed the dawn being ushered from the sky.
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submitted by kayenano to HFY [link] [comments]
Synopsis:
Juliette Contzen is a lazy, good-for-nothing princess. Overshadowed by her siblings, she's left with little to do but nap, read … and occasionally cut the falling raindrops with her sword. Spotted one day by an astonished adventurer, he insists on grading Juliette's swordsmanship, then promptly has a mental breakdown at the result.
Soon after, Juliette is given the news that her kingdom is on the brink of bankruptcy. At threat of being married off, the lazy princess vows to do whatever it takes to maintain her current lifestyle, and taking matters into her own hands, escapes in the middle of the night in order to restore her kingdom's finances.
Tags: Comedy, Adventure, Action, Fantasy, Copious Ohohohohos.
Chapter 247: Subjective Mercy
Dawn was a novelty to Renise.
Not because she was a late riser. On the contrary, she readily woke up before even the alley cats of Reitzlake. And they were nothing if not prompt in securing their territory.
It’s just that any dawn was hard to admire while she was crawling beneath the streets.
That’s not to say she didn’t get to see anything just as glamorous, though. In the sewers beneath the cracked cobblestone of Pennyvale Road and Sipton Corner, she often saw enough stolen gold tucked away to form a sight brighter than any morning.
And once, she even found a die with 20 sides. She thought that was very interesting.
Thus, even as the sun peeked across the horizon, Renise barely paid any attention. Especially as doing so would remind her of exactly how many hours it’d been since she last slept.
But she had no right to complain.
After all–
“Hoooph!”
The guards requisitioned to her service couldn’t.
Even now, their eyes were as wide as when she’d brought them here. And not all of it from shame that a large smuggling operation had taken place upon their doorstep.
They wiped sweat from their brows as they hauled the proceeds of crime from the depths of tunnels, the corners of barns and the hidden hatches found between them. All the while, Renise was there to assist, searching each nook and cranny to ensure that every mug rimmed with cobwebs and filled with pilfered gemstones was recovered.
The result was a sight grander than the pale light stretching across the horizon. A veritable mountain of recovered goods, stacked in semi-organised fashion in the centre of the farmstead.
No fields of wheat grew as of yet. But that didn’t mean there was no golden gleam.
The chests of crowns in Baroness Arisa’s chamber was the mainstay of the haul. A cursory examination placed the amount grand enough to purchase half a castle outright. But Renise knew it wasn’t a castle the baroness had wanted. It was a kingdom–and more.
That’s what the rest of the goods were for.
Sacks and crates unending. Enough grain and foodstuffs to last many winters and more. Had she wished to, the baroness could have sheltered in her hole and sat through whatever calamity she’d wished to trigger. Or she could have used it in lieu of gold when stomachs were empty and hearts were hard, to feed crowds of rioting commoners or the loyalty of wavering soldiers.
A scheme as audacious as it was unlikely. And thus very much devised by nobility.
Renise understood that well.
Just as she understood that nobility rarely allowed themselves to dream of an empire without guarantees in place. And she intended on querying what they were, and who had offered them.
Turning from the mound of gathered items, she made her way over to the girl huddling beside the steps of her stolen and dilapidated manor.
With her knees up, arms wrapped around them and face buried in said arms for good measure, Baroness Arisa Sandholt was less a noblewoman fallen at the final hurdle of a grand scheme and more a girl who had not been told ‘no’ enough times to understand the consequences of her actions.
And there would be many. More than her hands could hope to manage.
After all–
Renise had read Juliette’s judgement.
The former noblewoman approached the girl under guard. She nodded at the tired watchers. And when they left to join their colleagues in taxing their shoulders, she knelt down to look at the kingdom’s most recent shadow of Lady Lucina Tolent.
And what a poor one it was.
Still, Renise grimaced on the baroness’s behalf.
Despite recent events, she held little personal acrimony towards her. Neither smuggling nor treason were new concepts, after all. The scale was grander than what remained of the plots in the royal capital. But this simply meant more bureaucracy. Renise would live. And so would the baroness, should she not recklessly throw away what the princess’s mercy was willing to offer.
Mercy, of course, being subjective.
Still kneeling beside her, Renise attempted to peer past the buried face, almost akin to a teacher with a sulking child.
Then, she sighed.
“Baroness Arisa Sandholt. It is demeaning for you to remain like this. If nothing else, I invite you to sit upon the steps. There’s no need to dirty yourself upon the soil. Particularly as it’ll be some time before we’re finished here.”
Renise waited for an acknowledgement. Or more preferably a finger pointing out the hidden corners she’d doubtless missed.
She received nothing. And so she resigned herself to however many nights it’d require to fully empty out the tunnels.
This, also, was nothing new to her.
“... Uuuuh …”
All of a sudden, a weak, pitiable groan came from the baroness, still unseen behind her knees.
Renise wasn’t certain what to do other than hope for a follow-up. When it didn’t arrive, she instead brushed down her maid’s uniform of any dirt, before promptly undoing it by taking a seat beside the baroness, knees up and thoroughly uncomfortable.
“I notice the grounds are quite extensive,” she said lightly. “An impressive thing you’ve built, for one whose family lineage is pouring ales. May I ask how the career change to smuggling came about?”
No sound met her, other than the huffing of the beleaguered guards as they toiled like farmers beneath the sun.
Renise leaned in to pluck a leaf from the baroness’s hair.
She responded by slowly falling onto her side, still with her face buried around her legs. A perfect imitation of a shrivelled up caterpillar. Renise had a feeling the princess would have commented. She herself kindly chose not to.
For now.
“... Uuuuuuuuuuuhhhhh …”
Again, a weak groan of despair filled the crisp air alight with the early dawn.
Again, Renise wasn’t sure what the correct response was.
She’d known many members of the nobility to have fallen while clutching themselves in agony, most often after being rejected to a dance. And yet as emotionally damaging as those instances were, they paled in comparison to the distress of having her private gallery revealed to the same princess her portraits consisted of.
But it could have been worse.
She wasn’t sure how. But it could have been.
“Baroness Arisa,” said Renise, attempting to speak with a slightly more scolding tone. “This is far too belittling. Until you have been formally stripped of your title, you are still a member of this kingdom’s nobility–whether or not you wish it. You do yourself little favours by remaining as you are.”
At last, the baroness lifted her face away from her knees. She didn’t raise herself from the ground.
Puffy eyes unused to the unyielding dawn met her. And also cheeks still blotchy with humiliation. And then lips quivering with the strength required to form words.
“... My life is over,” she said, her voice strangled with grief.
“You do not know that, Baroness Arisa.”
The girl shook her head, golden hair flailing upon the dirt.
“My life is over,” she merely repeated, her eyes becoming distant and hollow. “The princess … she saw … all my portraits … it’s all over …”
Renise watched as what dignity remained slowly drained before her.
She decided to put a stop to it before she became a withered slug.
After all, the princess in question still had uses for her.
“Your life isn’t yours to judge,” she said, standing up before the baroness. “But it is the 3rd Princess’s. Would you care to know it?”
Renise unfurled a letter from the pockets only her uniform defied impracticality enough to possess.
The baroness uncurled herself slightly, the better to see the back of the letter. Even so, she made no effort to reach for it.
With a sigh, Renise looked over the neatly written edict and began to read.
To Baroness (
I would like to extend my gratitude for the paintings donated as badly needed furnishing for Soap Island and its inhabitants. This act of charity has not gone unnoticed.
In order to further develop your talents with a brush, I hereby command that you take up position as artist-in-residence upon Soap Island, where you shall have the freedom of its golden beaches, open air, and time enough to paint to your heart’s desire. As long as the paintings are of me.
Upon creation of a work I judge to be satisfactory, I shall deem your rehabilitation complete.
Please note this is an unpaid residency.
Princess Juliette Contzen.
Renise had filled in the bit with the missing name.
For a moment, she did nothing but wait for the baroness’s response. It was slow to come. But when it did, it was with both hands raised to her mouth, unable to hide the despair which came from it.
Indeed, it was a sentence which offered little hope of release.
The stipulation of release was both poetic and severe. For the only way the baroness could ever hope to create a sufficient painting was to first remove her pride and her malice. To be commanded to do what she previously did in twisted animosity would surely result in nothing but empty canvases from this moment on, such was the egoism of nobility.
But there was more to this than meets the eye.
Indeed … Renise had no doubt about the princess’s intentions.
The stipulation for a work to be judged as satisfactory was merely a ruse. The day the baroness realised the error of her ways and painted a single portrait, Renise had no doubt it would be accepted as proof of her atonement.
Such subtlety, doubtless woven from all her days at the royal court … Renise could only acknowledge it with envy–as could the baroness, who only now slowly sat up upon the dirt.
Except there was one problem.
“The princess … wishes for me to paint her?”
Her voice came out as barely a squeak, still covered by her hands, and yet those grey eyes were as wide as the very sun now cresting the horizon.
“She does, yes,” answered Renise, hearing the caution in her own voice.
A moment of silence passed between them.
The baroness reached up for the letter. Renise offered it, then waited as the girl’s eyes ran across the words, barely pausing at the scribbled amendment to her name at the top.
“The princess … she extends her gratitude for what I have painted.”
“So she does.”
“She wishes for them to be used as decoration.”
Renise slowly nodded.
In truth, she was still extremely unsure about the entire matter of what … Soap Island was. But the princess had been insistent that the existing paintings be sent there.
“That is correct … yes.”
Renise said nothing more.
Ordinarily, she would be wishing the girl a heartfelt plea to understand the mercy shown to her. And to hope that in time, she would come to understand the folly of her pride. Particularly as the baroness’s hands began to shake, crumpling the letter.
Ordinarily.
Because those hands were not shaking with clear resentment.
“This letter … is for me.”
Renise pursed her lips.
“Yes, it is.”
“I … I thought she would exile me … or merely forget again I existed the moment her back was turned.”
“Your crimes are not so little that she could allow you to be.”
“Indeed … she acknowledges me. My talents. She … She wishes for an even finer portrait.”
A moment later–
The baroness brought the letter close to her … and tightly held it against chest as her lips quivered into a zany smile. The puffiness upon her cheeks vanished, replaced only with a shine as radiant as the sun.
And then, her eyes grew hazy as she stared into the distance at the back of one who had long since left.
Yes.
The princess had made a grave error.
This baroness … would not hesitate to paint more of her.
She would not hesitate to paint until she’d created a portrait so fine that it could match the Plafond De Dix Mille Cygnes painted upon the vestibule of the Reitzlake Cathedral. Renise knew this with as much certainty in her heart as the effort it would take to forget this conversation ever occurred.
But she could not do so yet.
Not while she still had questions to ask. And none regarding the preoccupation with the princess.
The baroness had not acted alone. There were those who helped to pry open both her purse strings and her mind to this misadventure.
Renise expected few helpful answers.
The baroness may have dreamt of an empire. But she was a pawn upon a board where another was already lined to take her place. And those who played at intrigue and lived beyond a night were not known for idle gossip.
A trying task.
Although Rose House was named in opposition to the lotuses from the east, she knew full well that she possessed no thorn which could hope to prick the shadows so heavy that they stifled all who sought to grow against them.
Until now, that is.
Renise would not allow the princess’s charity to go to waste.
There was much she had to do before the two paramount smugglers of the kingdom could be offered a stay of execution. A conversation with the Crown Prince being one of them. But it would involve no pleading tears. Only words as cold as the iron her parents were currently shackled to.
But first things first.
She could not return while any tasks lay unfinished. That would be an indictment against all of them.
“Ahem … Baroness Arisa, I’ve matters of importance to discuss with you before you are sent to perform the princess’s wishes. And should you desire her added gratitude, you would do well to answer them.”
The baroness ceased hugging her letter. Broken from her temporary stupor, the smile slowly faded from her lips as she looked up.
And then continued to look up.
Because as the light cresting Renise’s shoulders became cold, and the joy of spring which played upon the ends of her hair faded and died, all which could be seen of the baroness was her faraway eyes as she stared tellingly at the dimming horizon.
In that moment, whatever questions Renise had were all shortly replaced by a single one.
“… Why is it suddenly so dark?”
She turned around.
And then she paled … as she witnessed the dawn being ushered from the sky.
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2024.06.02 02:00 jddupont Want to share and value perspective here - Missed sepsis 4/29 - Heart issues the next day - Discharged 5/2 after cardio stress test. Diagnosis seemingly conflict with imaging/labs/other tests done. Principal on discharge paperwork of Postural Dizziness.
Reposting this here given UCLA took it down. After people started to believe what I'm saying. Essentially, it looks like they downplayed diagnoses - intentionally or not TBD. Mis-recorded a lot on my medical records, especially from the initial visit. I don't have the history they're saying I do and my medical records back that. Plenty more on my profile as well. I put up imaging, some lab tests, some medical records, enough to give people enough information to make their own observations. I fully understand what I'm doing in posting this in this way too. People even came on my profile after I put this up on the UCLA subreddit, trying to pick apart specifics that are not relevant to what's going on here. Trying very hard to put this on psychosomatic causes and my mental health. It was intense what happened, but I'm alright in that area. Happy to put up more to support these assertions if that's helpful too.
I was the patient in a missed sepsis diagnosis at a major university hospital on April 29th. I spent all day in the hospital trying to escalate a worsening infection that seemed to be spreading all over my body. I was experiencing fever symptoms on and off, fluid sensation, new infection sites popping up all over rapidly. The worst of the infection was on the left side of my neck, and my entire jaw was filled with pus and fluid. My face was swollen enough I tried telling them I didn't look like myself. Nobody at this hospital listened to a word I said and I was repeatedly saying that I strongly felt like I needed IV antibiotics because of the worsening symptoms. Every staff I talked to ignored me. They finally called me out of the tent, had me see a resident ER doctor who chose not to respond to my symptoms. I was dealing with a lot of family stress at the time, and he spent more time telling me that this was more of a GP/Dermatologist issue than it was an ER issue. I was shocked they weren't immediately putting me on IV antibiotics. He wasn't paying attention to what I was trying to tell him, and in the medical notes, recorded my age wrong, recorded my statements pertaining to my rapidly worsening symptoms wrong - failed to follow any standard of care for infection treatment. The picture attached is what this doctor looked at, and put an ultrasound to, only the picture was taken about 10 hours before this doctor looked at it. It had gotten much worse by that point. I told him that I'd been draining it with gauze the nurses in the waiting area gave me due to the amount of buildup in the infection. I drew his attention to my arms, chest, and stomach where active infections were coming up all over. I didn't have medical terminology to put to it, but I told him they seemed to be connected. His response - "don't touch them." This doctor recorded that I have a history of picking at my skin and causing infections to the point I regularly go to the hospital for antibiotics, I don't. I was trying to tell him I've two cellulitis infections in my lifetime, I'm 28 years old, and have a gauge on when doctors respond to infection symptoms seriously and this seemed past that point. The ultrasound imaging looked alarming due to what looked like a mass still inside. He told me it was muscle tissue, I don't think it was. It's hard to know definitively, the report was resigned about 7 hours after I pulled through in ICU the next morning. They didn't even record my age or symptoms right. This doctor had no idea what he was doing.
The next morning, I was in bad shape. I got out of bed, and fluid seemed to start coming out of my toes. I knew I needed to go back to the hospital. I start experiencing serious chest pains in the car, something was definitely going on with my heart. This part is hard for me to back medically at this point. I get to the hospital. I try to tell them my worsening symptoms. At that point fluid is building towards my chest again, leaking out of my toes. They completely ignore me. They treat me like I'm on drugs. Soaked in body fluid, they think it's sweat. Acting like I'm anxious for no reason again and I'm trying to tell them I need a doctor bad. Getting weaker. I'm sitting in the waiting area, I don't know how long. Actively relaying cardiac and sepsis symptoms on a real time basis, and they just don't believe me.
I'm finally called over to the triage, asking for a wheelchair, they won't bring one so I have to walk over. The chest pains were coming and going at that point. I try to tell the triage nurses what's happening and what my symptoms were in the car. Finally one male nurse takes notice, I talked to him after I pulled through, recognizable guy and one of the few people that admitted anything in line with the truth that treated me. He has them put an ECG on. They see the heart drop coming and say are you having chest pains. I wasn't at the time. Then it hits, my legs start shaking, heart tanks into the mid 30s instantly. They're panicking. Get on the phone, call an ICU response to the triage of this hospital. Takes a minute or two for them to get there. I'm being held down as I'm being transferred to a gurney, wheeled through the ER, doctors yelling to everyone get out of the way. I'm literally going black trying to keep my breath going at this point.
By the time they get me to ICU/trauma unit, I'm so weak that I can't even move my shoulder to help get my shirt off, still fully awake. They get my shirt off and start sticking me with IV's all over. Monitoring equipment goes on, doctors start working on me seriously. Administer IV antibiotics, lactated ringer solutions, whatever else they did there. I was just trying to fight it. I basically gave up, thinking I was going to die on that ICU bed, and start coming back. They send in portable imaging and seemingly ID something concerning in my heart. Imaging records show sepsis indicated on a chest X-ray. Possible endocarditis on a bedside ultrasound per what the doctors signed off on. I'm so weak, half dead at that point, really didn't think I would make it.
They put me in a hallway for like 8 hours after that, not telling me what happened. I'm so concerned that what put me in the trauma unit is going to happen again, telling them I'm feeling tightness in my chest, fluid concerns, hooked up to full heart monitoring, dual deep vein IV's in. They ignore all my symptoms and complaints to the point I get pissed and I basically tell them, per the nursing notes - "stop bullshitting me." They finally move me to a more private hallway after I tell them I'm freezing cold and can't take it. The door kept opening where the ambulances were bringing people in. I finally get a room on the intensive care floor after throwing another fit after my phone dies, they won't find me a charger, and still telling me they can't find me a room.
They give me the runaround for two days, telling me they don't know what caused my heart to literally go into failure. I would have died without trauma unit intervention, and I'd been there the night before asking over and over again for IV antibiotics. These doctors and nurses bullshit all the diagnoses. They're saying they're calling it a pre-syncope. I'm not a doctor - but that's medical terminology for nearly fainting. They don't even tell me sepsis in the hospital from what I can remember. I find out from the discharge paperwork, where sepsis is written underneath the principal diagnosis of postural dizziness with a pre syncope. So much more conduct in the hospital that was just not okay. They released me after subjecting me to a cardio stress test they ordered using some diagnosis that has nothing to do with the infection I had. The scarring all over my body alone shows how bad this infection got. Fluid in my body for weeks. The day before they released me, a vancomycin IV burst in my arm, left a bruise for weeks. The same morning, my elbows were soaked in fluid when I woke up, and they just came in and cleaned it up, not telling me a thing.
On the morning they released me, my WBC was higher than the day I got to ICU. They didn't do any updated imaging, conflicting diagnoses everywhere. And they literally try to say "HIGHLY suspected" psychosomatic caused, while treating me for sepsis and using a lot of lactated ringer solutions. Imaging indicating the infection was in my heart. Highly elevated HS troponin readings multiples outside their reference range, and they don't even tell me any of this. The last reading they took was the day before they released me. Vital signs stable was the clinical goal on Wednesday 5/1. MAP>65 on the day they released me. I can't remember a doctor on my treatment team doing my actual discharge. Just some nurse. I was asking for medical records and reports of what treatments they did as I was leaving, wouldn't tell me anything. The nurse let it slip and told me I could find them online, which I already knew. Same response from every doctor and nurse.
A lot more to this story, but this happened at one of the biggest university healthcare systems in the country. Nothing in these records is accurate and contradictions everywhere. Pictures attached. Plenty more happened too. I was so sick for awhile after I left the hospital, I really wasn't positive I would survive for a couple weeks. They tried to say this was psychosomatic, bullshitted all the diagnoses to hide the severity of what happened. This same hospital is already getting some heat from media for their policies affecting people's health.
This definitely did not feel psychosomatic at all. I'm still recovering, still feel it in my chest sometimes. I really thought my life was over at 28. I also apologize if any of the writing comes off erratic, the experience was intense, so I relive it a little when I talk/write about it, but otherwise doing pretty well at this point. If anyone wants me to explain the specific issues there seem to be better, I'm happy to do that as well. I'm happy to put up more imaging as well if it's helpful.
I honestly don't have a clear long term picture of my health at this point. I feel alright all things considered, some lingering symptoms, but I was so shaken up and having a hard time getting another hospital in the area to talk about some of what's in these records so don't have any updated imaging at this point. Getting that done next week. Not something I expected to go through. I thought this would be a relatively routine IV antibiotic situation. I also don't have the history of picking at myself and causing infections like they wrote on the records for the initial visit - I caught a lot of hate for that and past addictions that are fully in remission after quite a lot of work and a pretty difficult upbringing with family dysfunction bad enough my brother and I had an attorney representing our interests at one point.
submitted by jddupont to AskDocs [link] [comments]
I was the patient in a missed sepsis diagnosis at a major university hospital on April 29th. I spent all day in the hospital trying to escalate a worsening infection that seemed to be spreading all over my body. I was experiencing fever symptoms on and off, fluid sensation, new infection sites popping up all over rapidly. The worst of the infection was on the left side of my neck, and my entire jaw was filled with pus and fluid. My face was swollen enough I tried telling them I didn't look like myself. Nobody at this hospital listened to a word I said and I was repeatedly saying that I strongly felt like I needed IV antibiotics because of the worsening symptoms. Every staff I talked to ignored me. They finally called me out of the tent, had me see a resident ER doctor who chose not to respond to my symptoms. I was dealing with a lot of family stress at the time, and he spent more time telling me that this was more of a GP/Dermatologist issue than it was an ER issue. I was shocked they weren't immediately putting me on IV antibiotics. He wasn't paying attention to what I was trying to tell him, and in the medical notes, recorded my age wrong, recorded my statements pertaining to my rapidly worsening symptoms wrong - failed to follow any standard of care for infection treatment. The picture attached is what this doctor looked at, and put an ultrasound to, only the picture was taken about 10 hours before this doctor looked at it. It had gotten much worse by that point. I told him that I'd been draining it with gauze the nurses in the waiting area gave me due to the amount of buildup in the infection. I drew his attention to my arms, chest, and stomach where active infections were coming up all over. I didn't have medical terminology to put to it, but I told him they seemed to be connected. His response - "don't touch them." This doctor recorded that I have a history of picking at my skin and causing infections to the point I regularly go to the hospital for antibiotics, I don't. I was trying to tell him I've two cellulitis infections in my lifetime, I'm 28 years old, and have a gauge on when doctors respond to infection symptoms seriously and this seemed past that point. The ultrasound imaging looked alarming due to what looked like a mass still inside. He told me it was muscle tissue, I don't think it was. It's hard to know definitively, the report was resigned about 7 hours after I pulled through in ICU the next morning. They didn't even record my age or symptoms right. This doctor had no idea what he was doing.
The next morning, I was in bad shape. I got out of bed, and fluid seemed to start coming out of my toes. I knew I needed to go back to the hospital. I start experiencing serious chest pains in the car, something was definitely going on with my heart. This part is hard for me to back medically at this point. I get to the hospital. I try to tell them my worsening symptoms. At that point fluid is building towards my chest again, leaking out of my toes. They completely ignore me. They treat me like I'm on drugs. Soaked in body fluid, they think it's sweat. Acting like I'm anxious for no reason again and I'm trying to tell them I need a doctor bad. Getting weaker. I'm sitting in the waiting area, I don't know how long. Actively relaying cardiac and sepsis symptoms on a real time basis, and they just don't believe me.
I'm finally called over to the triage, asking for a wheelchair, they won't bring one so I have to walk over. The chest pains were coming and going at that point. I try to tell the triage nurses what's happening and what my symptoms were in the car. Finally one male nurse takes notice, I talked to him after I pulled through, recognizable guy and one of the few people that admitted anything in line with the truth that treated me. He has them put an ECG on. They see the heart drop coming and say are you having chest pains. I wasn't at the time. Then it hits, my legs start shaking, heart tanks into the mid 30s instantly. They're panicking. Get on the phone, call an ICU response to the triage of this hospital. Takes a minute or two for them to get there. I'm being held down as I'm being transferred to a gurney, wheeled through the ER, doctors yelling to everyone get out of the way. I'm literally going black trying to keep my breath going at this point.
By the time they get me to ICU/trauma unit, I'm so weak that I can't even move my shoulder to help get my shirt off, still fully awake. They get my shirt off and start sticking me with IV's all over. Monitoring equipment goes on, doctors start working on me seriously. Administer IV antibiotics, lactated ringer solutions, whatever else they did there. I was just trying to fight it. I basically gave up, thinking I was going to die on that ICU bed, and start coming back. They send in portable imaging and seemingly ID something concerning in my heart. Imaging records show sepsis indicated on a chest X-ray. Possible endocarditis on a bedside ultrasound per what the doctors signed off on. I'm so weak, half dead at that point, really didn't think I would make it.
They put me in a hallway for like 8 hours after that, not telling me what happened. I'm so concerned that what put me in the trauma unit is going to happen again, telling them I'm feeling tightness in my chest, fluid concerns, hooked up to full heart monitoring, dual deep vein IV's in. They ignore all my symptoms and complaints to the point I get pissed and I basically tell them, per the nursing notes - "stop bullshitting me." They finally move me to a more private hallway after I tell them I'm freezing cold and can't take it. The door kept opening where the ambulances were bringing people in. I finally get a room on the intensive care floor after throwing another fit after my phone dies, they won't find me a charger, and still telling me they can't find me a room.
They give me the runaround for two days, telling me they don't know what caused my heart to literally go into failure. I would have died without trauma unit intervention, and I'd been there the night before asking over and over again for IV antibiotics. These doctors and nurses bullshit all the diagnoses. They're saying they're calling it a pre-syncope. I'm not a doctor - but that's medical terminology for nearly fainting. They don't even tell me sepsis in the hospital from what I can remember. I find out from the discharge paperwork, where sepsis is written underneath the principal diagnosis of postural dizziness with a pre syncope. So much more conduct in the hospital that was just not okay. They released me after subjecting me to a cardio stress test they ordered using some diagnosis that has nothing to do with the infection I had. The scarring all over my body alone shows how bad this infection got. Fluid in my body for weeks. The day before they released me, a vancomycin IV burst in my arm, left a bruise for weeks. The same morning, my elbows were soaked in fluid when I woke up, and they just came in and cleaned it up, not telling me a thing.
On the morning they released me, my WBC was higher than the day I got to ICU. They didn't do any updated imaging, conflicting diagnoses everywhere. And they literally try to say "HIGHLY suspected" psychosomatic caused, while treating me for sepsis and using a lot of lactated ringer solutions. Imaging indicating the infection was in my heart. Highly elevated HS troponin readings multiples outside their reference range, and they don't even tell me any of this. The last reading they took was the day before they released me. Vital signs stable was the clinical goal on Wednesday 5/1. MAP>65 on the day they released me. I can't remember a doctor on my treatment team doing my actual discharge. Just some nurse. I was asking for medical records and reports of what treatments they did as I was leaving, wouldn't tell me anything. The nurse let it slip and told me I could find them online, which I already knew. Same response from every doctor and nurse.
A lot more to this story, but this happened at one of the biggest university healthcare systems in the country. Nothing in these records is accurate and contradictions everywhere. Pictures attached. Plenty more happened too. I was so sick for awhile after I left the hospital, I really wasn't positive I would survive for a couple weeks. They tried to say this was psychosomatic, bullshitted all the diagnoses to hide the severity of what happened. This same hospital is already getting some heat from media for their policies affecting people's health.
This definitely did not feel psychosomatic at all. I'm still recovering, still feel it in my chest sometimes. I really thought my life was over at 28. I also apologize if any of the writing comes off erratic, the experience was intense, so I relive it a little when I talk/write about it, but otherwise doing pretty well at this point. If anyone wants me to explain the specific issues there seem to be better, I'm happy to do that as well. I'm happy to put up more imaging as well if it's helpful.
I honestly don't have a clear long term picture of my health at this point. I feel alright all things considered, some lingering symptoms, but I was so shaken up and having a hard time getting another hospital in the area to talk about some of what's in these records so don't have any updated imaging at this point. Getting that done next week. Not something I expected to go through. I thought this would be a relatively routine IV antibiotic situation. I also don't have the history of picking at myself and causing infections like they wrote on the records for the initial visit - I caught a lot of hate for that and past addictions that are fully in remission after quite a lot of work and a pretty difficult upbringing with family dysfunction bad enough my brother and I had an attorney representing our interests at one point.
2024.06.02 01:56 Harucchiiii Notice period starts at exit interview?
Hello, I'm not sure how I will react to this but from what I understand with my previous works, two week notice starts when I give a resignation letter right? either it was sudden or if I let employer know beforehand?
Is it normal for it to be disregarded, and instead, two week notice only starts with my exit interview? There are 3-day gap between my supposed last day and exit interview. What's your opinion about two week notice only starts at exit interview?
submitted by Harucchiiii to work [link] [comments]
Is it normal for it to be disregarded, and instead, two week notice only starts with my exit interview? There are 3-day gap between my supposed last day and exit interview. What's your opinion about two week notice only starts at exit interview?
2024.06.02 01:41 jddupont Missed Sepsis at UCLA - Got bad and almost killed me - Taken down from UCLA Subreddit - More on my profile.
Reposting this here given UCLA took it down. After people started to believe what I'm saying. Essentially, it looks like they downplayed diagnoses - intentionally or not TBD. Mis-recorded a lot on my medical records, especially from the initial visit. I don't have the history they're saying I do and my medical records back that. Plenty more on my profile as well. I put up imaging, some lab tests, some medical records, enough to give people enough information to make their own observations. I fully understand what I'm doing in posting this in this way too. People even came on my profile after I put this up on the UCLA subreddit, trying to pick apart specifics that are not relevant to what's going on here. Trying very hard to put this on psychosomatic causes and my mental health. It was intense what happened, but I'm alright in that area. Happy to put up more to support these assertions if that's helpful too.
I was the patient in a missed sepsis diagnosis at a major university hospital on April 29th. I spent all day in the hospital trying to escalate a worsening infection that seemed to be spreading all over my body. I was experiencing fever symptoms on and off, fluid sensation, new infection sites popping up all over rapidly. The worst of the infection was on the left side of my neck, and my entire jaw was filled with pus and fluid. My face was swollen enough I tried telling them I didn't look like myself. Nobody at this hospital listened to a word I said and I was repeatedly saying that I strongly felt like I needed IV antibiotics because of the worsening symptoms. Every staff I talked to ignored me. They finally called me out of the tent, had me see a resident ER doctor who chose not to respond to my symptoms. I was dealing with a lot of family stress at the time, and he spent more time telling me that this was more of a GP/Dermatologist issue than it was an ER issue. I was shocked they weren't immediately putting me on IV antibiotics. He wasn't paying attention to what I was trying to tell him, and in the medical notes, recorded my age wrong, recorded my statements pertaining to my rapidly worsening symptoms wrong - failed to follow any standard of care for infection treatment. The picture attached is what this doctor looked at, and put an ultrasound to, only the picture was taken about 10 hours before this doctor looked at it. It had gotten much worse by that point. I told him that I'd been draining it with gauze the nurses in the waiting area gave me due to the amount of buildup in the infection. I drew his attention to my arms, chest, and stomach where active infections were coming up all over. I didn't have medical terminology to put to it, but I told him they seemed to be connected. His response - "don't touch them." This doctor recorded that I have a history of picking at my skin and causing infections to the point I regularly go to the hospital for antibiotics, I don't. I was trying to tell him I've two cellulitis infections in my lifetime, I'm 28 years old, and have a gauge on when doctors respond to infection symptoms seriously and this seemed past that point. The ultrasound imaging looked alarming due to what looked like a mass still inside. He told me it was muscle tissue, I don't think it was. It's hard to know definitively, the report was resigned about 7 hours after I pulled through in ICU the next morning. They didn't even record my age or symptoms right. This doctor had no idea what he was doing.
The next morning, I was in bad shape. I got out of bed, and fluid seemed to start coming out of my toes. I knew I needed to go back to the hospital. I start experiencing serious chest pains in the car, something was definitely going on with my heart. This part is hard for me to back medically at this point. I get to the hospital. I try to tell them my worsening symptoms. At that point fluid is building towards my chest again, leaking out of my toes. They completely ignore me. They treat me like I'm on drugs. Soaked in body fluid, they think it's sweat. Acting like I'm anxious for no reason again and I'm trying to tell them I need a doctor bad. Getting weaker. I'm sitting in the waiting area, I don't know how long. Actively relaying cardiac and sepsis symptoms on a real time basis, and they just don't believe me.
I'm finally called over to the triage, asking for a wheelchair, they won't bring one so I have to walk over. The chest pains were coming and going at that point. I try to tell the triage nurses what's happening and what my symptoms were in the car. Finally one male nurse takes notice, I talked to him after I pulled through, recognizable guy and one of the few people that admitted anything in line with the truth that treated me. He has them put an ECG on. They see the heart drop coming and say are you having chest pains. I wasn't at the time. Then it hits, my legs start shaking, heart tanks into the mid 30s instantly. They're panicking. Get on the phone, call an ICU response to the triage of this hospital. Takes a minute or two for them to get there. I'm being held down as I'm being transferred to a gurney, wheeled through the ER, doctors yelling to everyone get out of the way. I'm literally going black trying to keep my breath going at this point.
By the time they get me to ICU or “Trauma Room”, I'm so weak that I can't even move my shoulder to help get my shirt off, still fully awake. They get my shirt off and start sticking me with IV's all over. Monitoring equipment goes on, doctors start working on me seriously. Administer IV antibiotics, lactated ringer solutions, whatever else they did there. I was just trying to fight it. I basically gave up, thinking I was going to die on that ICU bed, and start coming back. They send in portable imaging and seemingly ID something concerning in my heart. Imaging records show sepsis indicated on a chest X-ray. Possible endocarditis on a bedside ultrasound per what the doctors signed off on. I'm so weak, half dead at that point, really didn't think I would make it.
They put me in a hallway for like 8 hours after that, not telling me what happened. I'm so concerned that what put me in ICU is going to happen again, telling them I'm feeling tightness in my chest, fluid concerns, hooked up to full heart monitoring, dual deep vein IV's in. They ignore all my symptoms and complaints to the point I get pissed and I basically tell them, per the nursing notes - "stop bullshitting me." They finally move me to a more private hallway after I tell them I'm freezing cold and can't take it. The door kept opening where the ambulances were bringing people in. I finally get a room on the intensive care floor after throwing another fit after my phone dies, they won't find me a charger, and still telling me they can't find me a room.
They give me the runaround for two days, telling me they don't know what caused my heart to literally go into failure. I would have died without ICU intervention, and I'd been there the night before asking over and over again for IV antibiotics. These doctors and nurses bullshit all the diagnoses. They're saying they're calling it a pre-syncope. I'm not a doctor - but that's medical terminology for nearly fainting. They don't even tell me sepsis in the hospital from what I can remember. I find out from the discharge paperwork, where sepsis is written underneath the principal diagnosis of postural dizziness with a pre syncope. So much more conduct in the hospital that was just not okay. They released me after subjecting me to a cardio stress test they ordered using some diagnosis that has nothing to do with the infection I had. The scarring all over my body alone shows how bad this infection got. Fluid in my body for weeks. The day before they released me, a vancomycin IV burst in my arm, left a bruise for weeks. The same morning, my elbows were soaked in fluid when I woke up, and they just came in and cleaned it up, not telling me a thing.
On the morning they released me, my WBC was higher than the day I got to ICU. They didn't do any updated imaging, conflicting diagnoses everywhere. And they literally try to say "HIGHLY suspected" psychosomatic caused, while treating me for sepsis and using a lot of lactated ringer solutions. Imaging indicating the infection was in my heart. Highly elevated HS troponin readings multiples outside their reference range, and they don't even tell me any of this. The last reading they took was the day before they released me. Vital signs stable was the clinical goal on Wednesday 5/1. MAP>65 on the day they released me. I can't remember a doctor on my treatment team doing my actual discharge. Just some nurse. I was asking for medical records and reports of what treatments they did as I was leaving, wouldn't tell me anything. The nurse let it slip and told me I could find them online, which I already knew. Same response from every doctor and nurse.
A lot more to this story, but this happened at one of the biggest university healthcare systems in the country. Nothing in these records is accurate and contradictions everywhere. Pictures attached. Plenty more happened too. I was so sick for awhile after I left the hospital, I really wasn't positive I would survive for a couple weeks. They tried to say this was psychosomatic, bullshitted all the diagnoses to hide the severity of what happened. This same hospital is already getting some heat from media for their policies affecting people's health.
This definitely did not feel psychosomatic at all. I'm still recovering, still feel it in my chest sometimes. I really thought my life was over at 28. I also apologize if any of the writing comes off erratic, the experience was intense, so I relive it a little when I talk/write about it, but otherwise doing pretty well at this point. If anyone wants me to explain the specific contradictions there seem to be more thoroughly, I'm happy to do that too.
submitted by jddupont to healthcare [link] [comments]
I was the patient in a missed sepsis diagnosis at a major university hospital on April 29th. I spent all day in the hospital trying to escalate a worsening infection that seemed to be spreading all over my body. I was experiencing fever symptoms on and off, fluid sensation, new infection sites popping up all over rapidly. The worst of the infection was on the left side of my neck, and my entire jaw was filled with pus and fluid. My face was swollen enough I tried telling them I didn't look like myself. Nobody at this hospital listened to a word I said and I was repeatedly saying that I strongly felt like I needed IV antibiotics because of the worsening symptoms. Every staff I talked to ignored me. They finally called me out of the tent, had me see a resident ER doctor who chose not to respond to my symptoms. I was dealing with a lot of family stress at the time, and he spent more time telling me that this was more of a GP/Dermatologist issue than it was an ER issue. I was shocked they weren't immediately putting me on IV antibiotics. He wasn't paying attention to what I was trying to tell him, and in the medical notes, recorded my age wrong, recorded my statements pertaining to my rapidly worsening symptoms wrong - failed to follow any standard of care for infection treatment. The picture attached is what this doctor looked at, and put an ultrasound to, only the picture was taken about 10 hours before this doctor looked at it. It had gotten much worse by that point. I told him that I'd been draining it with gauze the nurses in the waiting area gave me due to the amount of buildup in the infection. I drew his attention to my arms, chest, and stomach where active infections were coming up all over. I didn't have medical terminology to put to it, but I told him they seemed to be connected. His response - "don't touch them." This doctor recorded that I have a history of picking at my skin and causing infections to the point I regularly go to the hospital for antibiotics, I don't. I was trying to tell him I've two cellulitis infections in my lifetime, I'm 28 years old, and have a gauge on when doctors respond to infection symptoms seriously and this seemed past that point. The ultrasound imaging looked alarming due to what looked like a mass still inside. He told me it was muscle tissue, I don't think it was. It's hard to know definitively, the report was resigned about 7 hours after I pulled through in ICU the next morning. They didn't even record my age or symptoms right. This doctor had no idea what he was doing.
The next morning, I was in bad shape. I got out of bed, and fluid seemed to start coming out of my toes. I knew I needed to go back to the hospital. I start experiencing serious chest pains in the car, something was definitely going on with my heart. This part is hard for me to back medically at this point. I get to the hospital. I try to tell them my worsening symptoms. At that point fluid is building towards my chest again, leaking out of my toes. They completely ignore me. They treat me like I'm on drugs. Soaked in body fluid, they think it's sweat. Acting like I'm anxious for no reason again and I'm trying to tell them I need a doctor bad. Getting weaker. I'm sitting in the waiting area, I don't know how long. Actively relaying cardiac and sepsis symptoms on a real time basis, and they just don't believe me.
I'm finally called over to the triage, asking for a wheelchair, they won't bring one so I have to walk over. The chest pains were coming and going at that point. I try to tell the triage nurses what's happening and what my symptoms were in the car. Finally one male nurse takes notice, I talked to him after I pulled through, recognizable guy and one of the few people that admitted anything in line with the truth that treated me. He has them put an ECG on. They see the heart drop coming and say are you having chest pains. I wasn't at the time. Then it hits, my legs start shaking, heart tanks into the mid 30s instantly. They're panicking. Get on the phone, call an ICU response to the triage of this hospital. Takes a minute or two for them to get there. I'm being held down as I'm being transferred to a gurney, wheeled through the ER, doctors yelling to everyone get out of the way. I'm literally going black trying to keep my breath going at this point.
By the time they get me to ICU or “Trauma Room”, I'm so weak that I can't even move my shoulder to help get my shirt off, still fully awake. They get my shirt off and start sticking me with IV's all over. Monitoring equipment goes on, doctors start working on me seriously. Administer IV antibiotics, lactated ringer solutions, whatever else they did there. I was just trying to fight it. I basically gave up, thinking I was going to die on that ICU bed, and start coming back. They send in portable imaging and seemingly ID something concerning in my heart. Imaging records show sepsis indicated on a chest X-ray. Possible endocarditis on a bedside ultrasound per what the doctors signed off on. I'm so weak, half dead at that point, really didn't think I would make it.
They put me in a hallway for like 8 hours after that, not telling me what happened. I'm so concerned that what put me in ICU is going to happen again, telling them I'm feeling tightness in my chest, fluid concerns, hooked up to full heart monitoring, dual deep vein IV's in. They ignore all my symptoms and complaints to the point I get pissed and I basically tell them, per the nursing notes - "stop bullshitting me." They finally move me to a more private hallway after I tell them I'm freezing cold and can't take it. The door kept opening where the ambulances were bringing people in. I finally get a room on the intensive care floor after throwing another fit after my phone dies, they won't find me a charger, and still telling me they can't find me a room.
They give me the runaround for two days, telling me they don't know what caused my heart to literally go into failure. I would have died without ICU intervention, and I'd been there the night before asking over and over again for IV antibiotics. These doctors and nurses bullshit all the diagnoses. They're saying they're calling it a pre-syncope. I'm not a doctor - but that's medical terminology for nearly fainting. They don't even tell me sepsis in the hospital from what I can remember. I find out from the discharge paperwork, where sepsis is written underneath the principal diagnosis of postural dizziness with a pre syncope. So much more conduct in the hospital that was just not okay. They released me after subjecting me to a cardio stress test they ordered using some diagnosis that has nothing to do with the infection I had. The scarring all over my body alone shows how bad this infection got. Fluid in my body for weeks. The day before they released me, a vancomycin IV burst in my arm, left a bruise for weeks. The same morning, my elbows were soaked in fluid when I woke up, and they just came in and cleaned it up, not telling me a thing.
On the morning they released me, my WBC was higher than the day I got to ICU. They didn't do any updated imaging, conflicting diagnoses everywhere. And they literally try to say "HIGHLY suspected" psychosomatic caused, while treating me for sepsis and using a lot of lactated ringer solutions. Imaging indicating the infection was in my heart. Highly elevated HS troponin readings multiples outside their reference range, and they don't even tell me any of this. The last reading they took was the day before they released me. Vital signs stable was the clinical goal on Wednesday 5/1. MAP>65 on the day they released me. I can't remember a doctor on my treatment team doing my actual discharge. Just some nurse. I was asking for medical records and reports of what treatments they did as I was leaving, wouldn't tell me anything. The nurse let it slip and told me I could find them online, which I already knew. Same response from every doctor and nurse.
A lot more to this story, but this happened at one of the biggest university healthcare systems in the country. Nothing in these records is accurate and contradictions everywhere. Pictures attached. Plenty more happened too. I was so sick for awhile after I left the hospital, I really wasn't positive I would survive for a couple weeks. They tried to say this was psychosomatic, bullshitted all the diagnoses to hide the severity of what happened. This same hospital is already getting some heat from media for their policies affecting people's health.
This definitely did not feel psychosomatic at all. I'm still recovering, still feel it in my chest sometimes. I really thought my life was over at 28. I also apologize if any of the writing comes off erratic, the experience was intense, so I relive it a little when I talk/write about it, but otherwise doing pretty well at this point. If anyone wants me to explain the specific contradictions there seem to be more thoroughly, I'm happy to do that too.
2024.06.02 01:34 Alarmed-Frame-8849 Do you wear nursing related shirts?
Hello! Please don’t judge me, I’m merely a mother trying to get by lol. I never thought having a BSN wouldn’t be enough to provide financially for my family. So anywho, I have started to pursue side hustles, one being POD t-shirts. I want to have a niche and something I actually care about so I naturally went with nursing. I’m curious though, would any of you actually wear a nursing related t-shirt? If so, are you more likely to wear a funny one or a simple “registered nurse” lettering t-shirt for example. I’ve already checked out the competition obviously and these shirts are selling but I wonder if real nurses are purchasing or if maybe a majority of sales are family buying as gifts 😅. I know something like this is trial and error but I don’t want to waste much time if I can help it. Thanks in advance!
submitted by Alarmed-Frame-8849 to nursing [link] [comments]
2024.06.02 01:29 JessPalmadessaRacist Andddd Another one bites the dust .. Streets turns in his resignation letter via trainwreck of a YT live meltdown “everyone on Reddit is a f*n loser f you! F everyone on Reddit!”name drops reddit 7 times
Yesterday Streets went full midlife existential crisis mode. He's been avoiding this sweaty coming of age moment for 50 years.He may be 50 in two months with grandkids but Streets was the Peter Pan if you will of the protestors. Yesterday He was legit literally frothing at the mouth with the white spittle accumulation at the corners of his lips and Everything. The lens so close to his bald head I could count his 3 individual follicles. My word.
Streamed from his official Filmthepolicela account..someone forgot he was on his alt again...
Chapter 1 - Zach Juice.Zacks 4 inch erect nipples. Makes motion off jerking something off like he has a lot of experience doing that just sayin... I AM a certified bully (certified bitch,but anywho)I am Zach's bully I'm Coming for you Zack.fuk Zack etc etc he said this with no irony " I will body shame whoever tf I want I'm a bully...FU%@ Reddit"
Chapter 2 - ZDT and Zack bashing cont.
Chapter 3 - Resigns gives two week notice when asked if he would be going to Scientology protests he said he might stop by here and there but not long " I'll still mess with them here and there but honestly being 100 I'm laser focused on this UCLA thing so probably not"
submitted by JessPalmadessaRacist to Scientology_Protest [link] [comments]
Streamed from his official Filmthepolicela account..someone forgot he was on his alt again...
Chapter 1 - Zach Juice.Zacks 4 inch erect nipples. Makes motion off jerking something off like he has a lot of experience doing that just sayin... I AM a certified bully (certified bitch,but anywho)I am Zach's bully I'm Coming for you Zack.fuk Zack etc etc he said this with no irony " I will body shame whoever tf I want I'm a bully...FU%@ Reddit"
Chapter 2 - ZDT and Zack bashing cont.
Chapter 3 - Resigns gives two week notice when asked if he would be going to Scientology protests he said he might stop by here and there but not long " I'll still mess with them here and there but honestly being 100 I'm laser focused on this UCLA thing so probably not"
2024.06.02 01:05 Slide_Mammoth Inlaw Woes
I guess this is a rant and advice request. Bare with me here, as there's a lot to unpack haha.
Our beautiful baby girl was born exactly a week ago, and my mother in law has been, for lack of a better term, overbearing.
As soon as the hospital allowed visitors her mom showed up and didn't leave until visiting hours were over which caused my side of the family to feel limited in how much they could hold our baby because in between everyone else holding her, she demanded another turn.
We actually told everyone that we didn't want any visitors in the hospital one day so we could just be the 2 of us and we could spend some time alone. Her mother showed up anyways, and I had to pull a nurse aside and have her tell her mom that we had tests to run so she had to leave. Her mom was not happy and made a scene about how they should run tests outside of visiting hours.
The day we got home we specifically told all of our families we were taking the day without visitors to get settled. Again, her mom showed up unannounced. When we told her we had said we weren't having visitors, she insisted she wasn't a visitor and then began crying. She said she had been at work and was crying all morning because she needed to see HER baby. Not refering to my wife, but our child.
We tried to explain that she was in fact a visitor in our home and wasn't welcome to come and go as she pleased without speaking with us, and that led to a full blown meltdown with her crying for 30 minutes in our living room about how she needed to be in, again, her babies life.
She stopped by today with other in laws and we found her re-arranging the drawers in our nursery because she "needed it a certain way for when she watched her every Friday." Turns out she has told everyone that she is babysitting every Friday because that is her day off. This has never even been discussed with us.
She's even now gone as far as saying she wants our babies nickname to be spelled a certain way because she thinks it's looked prettier with an extra letter.
I guess I'm asking how people would deal with it, and if anyone is going though the same thing!
submitted by Slide_Mammoth to daddit [link] [comments]
Our beautiful baby girl was born exactly a week ago, and my mother in law has been, for lack of a better term, overbearing.
As soon as the hospital allowed visitors her mom showed up and didn't leave until visiting hours were over which caused my side of the family to feel limited in how much they could hold our baby because in between everyone else holding her, she demanded another turn.
We actually told everyone that we didn't want any visitors in the hospital one day so we could just be the 2 of us and we could spend some time alone. Her mother showed up anyways, and I had to pull a nurse aside and have her tell her mom that we had tests to run so she had to leave. Her mom was not happy and made a scene about how they should run tests outside of visiting hours.
The day we got home we specifically told all of our families we were taking the day without visitors to get settled. Again, her mom showed up unannounced. When we told her we had said we weren't having visitors, she insisted she wasn't a visitor and then began crying. She said she had been at work and was crying all morning because she needed to see HER baby. Not refering to my wife, but our child.
We tried to explain that she was in fact a visitor in our home and wasn't welcome to come and go as she pleased without speaking with us, and that led to a full blown meltdown with her crying for 30 minutes in our living room about how she needed to be in, again, her babies life.
She stopped by today with other in laws and we found her re-arranging the drawers in our nursery because she "needed it a certain way for when she watched her every Friday." Turns out she has told everyone that she is babysitting every Friday because that is her day off. This has never even been discussed with us.
She's even now gone as far as saying she wants our babies nickname to be spelled a certain way because she thinks it's looked prettier with an extra letter.
I guess I'm asking how people would deal with it, and if anyone is going though the same thing!
2024.06.02 00:57 ryanmark234 (HIRE ME)<
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submitted by ryanmark234 to nursinghelp2024 [link] [comments]
Contact Details for Hiraedu Helper:
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2024.06.02 00:32 ThrowRA_butter_ Nursing associate, manager being unfair
So I just finished my nursing associate degree and finally received my pin to be NA. I have been working at a nursing care home for 14 years now. There is another co-worker who has also finished their degree along with me, and we both applied to be nursing associate at the care home.
Now I’m have many ups and down with the matron at my workplace as well as with other staff. Attitude, bullying, etc. I would apply to other places but there is no vacancy right now.
I initially did my interview along with the other woman. Then I received a letter from them saying it is hard to choose between us so they will be trialling us for three months to see who is better and then decide. The pay is subject to the manager’s likeness to the staff as well, I know I have always been underpaid. I know the other woman gets paid more than me anyway at the moment and apparently I won’t be paid the same as her while doing the “trial”. Like why am I doing the nursing associate job if I’m not going to be paid as a NA should be.
Why is the manager making it so hard? And she literally said I’m not a nursing associate yet when I have got my pin and everything. I dont get it. Who shall I complain to? RCN? Is it worth it? I’m just thinking of leaving that job. This headache is not worth it. For the many years I have worked there, they are treating me like this.
I’m just ranting and looking for advice.
submitted by ThrowRA_butter_ to NursingUK [link] [comments]
Now I’m have many ups and down with the matron at my workplace as well as with other staff. Attitude, bullying, etc. I would apply to other places but there is no vacancy right now.
I initially did my interview along with the other woman. Then I received a letter from them saying it is hard to choose between us so they will be trialling us for three months to see who is better and then decide. The pay is subject to the manager’s likeness to the staff as well, I know I have always been underpaid. I know the other woman gets paid more than me anyway at the moment and apparently I won’t be paid the same as her while doing the “trial”. Like why am I doing the nursing associate job if I’m not going to be paid as a NA should be.
Why is the manager making it so hard? And she literally said I’m not a nursing associate yet when I have got my pin and everything. I dont get it. Who shall I complain to? RCN? Is it worth it? I’m just thinking of leaving that job. This headache is not worth it. For the many years I have worked there, they are treating me like this.
I’m just ranting and looking for advice.
2024.06.01 23:46 ProPlayer142 GG SMP Rebrand, Hellscaped leaving eagler
The network is now known as Nightshade network (ggsmp.net). me (Solenten) is not leaving the network. The network will continue to be up, but it will be rebranded. Hellscaped has also announced the following PGP signed message:
submitted by ProPlayer142 to eaglercraft [link] [comments]
-----BEGIN PGP SIGNED MESSAGE----- Hash: SHA256 I've decided not to sell the network. Hellium will no longer exist as a Minecraft network, though. I am giving Solenten sole proprietorship; as long as he rebrands the network fully. You will no longer be able to connect via helltech.cc. THIS IS MY OFFICIAL LETTER OF RESIGNATION. No hard feelings, I simply no longer wish to run this network anymore. I am creating a new network using minetest as the platf Toodles! -----BEGIN PGP SIGNATURE----- iQIzBAEBCAAdFiEEA3h8z2oiIjt/dxtrn2uiaEYENZoFAmZahbMACgkQn2uiaEYE NZq7JhAAlHc4IUHIUGr71NTIYisSzq+1brvUub9+RVtzAQFxcLzZyF9W677LS4oV wELjz89xPiXbRHHvSaL81Za003JG/pEt/n4ve7XNInvCjkcedkboyRpEUrMppodv qcY02NX3h8uSRJBhSy+Hnj4ziIgoCTVjy+QnNfqnvzsABXaqYjvoNDXdFcaoYT7Z 9kolvgDQ+S9/Hoe2N4/ZAnHAO9I26bjXVpNjJDxTF/4P/hDKuZrux9ocxvWVZKIn it+p+ooK4Hq0Uat9/7c98UwHqy+wXB/L88uPrDhfUIJAkiWFPmzunpyoSIL/CTfh e84dZxehxE92d1e+5BdKXpO8N7FBPRMKtHKAQLAYWIPJUPH1vnzqgVDxkboglpi7 usepBz1OhuIreryBJFq4nSpnIUzNOPXvGAl6aEB6rbszpKGNXlCtPFttivuRdUhH 4US2q1ldH6M7cCrOyT5P8wSluY2n062koFhO8LgvPmS3WQzyPAEFlssjTicbyRDO VTC/wvy28ZBSdsqsQNExOjZ+Lj0N/EZ6ahTQ2+1NbPgSCqKhfLrSL4ovtewTO+iF UoKIvZ0XCpGIgZcPiR89HOQwD9HCfyaaBGV04Y8bW9g53wmJsaU3lPJrPTlA81QR OOIRbGunoD7r08Mz68K0cycX6xiYI2e6ZvhgZJDz7wauKdsWUvE= =jK9r -----END PGP SIGNATURE----- -----BEGIN PGP SIGNED MESSAGE----- Hash: SHA256 I've decided not to sell the network. Hellium will no longer exist as a Minecraft network, though. I am giving Solenten sole proprietorship; as long as he rebrands the network fully. You will no longer be able to connect via helltech.cc. THIS IS MY OFFICIAL LETTER OF RESIGNATION. No hard feelings, I simply no longer wish to run this network anymore. I am creating a new network using minetest as the platf Toodles! -----BEGIN PGP SIGNATURE----- iQIzBAEBCAAdFiEEA3h8z2oiIjt/dxtrn2uiaEYENZoFAmZahbMACgkQn2uiaEYE NZq7JhAAlHc4IUHIUGr71NTIYisSzq+1brvUub9+RVtzAQFxcLzZyF9W677LS4oV wELjz89xPiXbRHHvSaL81Za003JG/pEt/n4ve7XNInvCjkcedkboyRpEUrMppodv qcY02NX3h8uSRJBhSy+Hnj4ziIgoCTVjy+QnNfqnvzsABXaqYjvoNDXdFcaoYT7Z 9kolvgDQ+S9/Hoe2N4/ZAnHAO9I26bjXVpNjJDxTF/4P/hDKuZrux9ocxvWVZKIn it+p+ooK4Hq0Uat9/7c98UwHqy+wXB/L88uPrDhfUIJAkiWFPmzunpyoSIL/CTfh e84dZxehxE92d1e+5BdKXpO8N7FBPRMKtHKAQLAYWIPJUPH1vnzqgVDxkboglpi7 usepBz1OhuIreryBJFq4nSpnIUzNOPXvGAl6aEB6rbszpKGNXlCtPFttivuRdUhH 4US2q1ldH6M7cCrOyT5P8wSluY2n062koFhO8LgvPmS3WQzyPAEFlssjTicbyRDO VTC/wvy28ZBSdsqsQNExOjZ+Lj0N/EZ6ahTQ2+1NbPgSCqKhfLrSL4ovtewTO+iF UoKIvZ0XCpGIgZcPiR89HOQwD9HCfyaaBGV04Y8bW9g53wmJsaU3lPJrPTlA81QR OOIRbGunoD7r08Mz68K0cycX6xiYI2e6ZvhgZJDz7wauKdsWUvE= =jK9r -----END PGP SIGNATURE-----