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#Apple Watch Heart Rate Monitoring

anhometech · 3 days

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Unveiling the Accuracy of the Apple Watch Heart Rate Monitor

Understanding the Accuracy of the Apple Watch Heart Rate Monitor When it comes to wearable fitness technology, the Apple Watch has established itself as a popular choice for fitness enthusiasts. One of the key features of the Apple Watch is its ability to monitor the user’s heart rate, providing valuable insights into their overall health and fitness levels. However, the question of how accurate…

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#Apple Watch #fitness technology #heart rate monitor

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stepbyvampirevveekend · 4 months

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talking myself down to believingi’m just have an allergic reaction (a common occurrence for me) and not some kind of terrible bacteria or infection ( has never happened to me but did happen to my sister and she had to go in antibiotics and it all puffed and swelled and discolored — not what i have rn)

#my apple watch monitoring my heart rate is making me realize the anxiety be bad #nik.txt

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sleepinversion · 8 months

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I always say ‘thank you’ to Siri, but after the iOS17 update it briefly keeps listening to you after your request, and every time it says ‘you’re welcome’ back it gives me a mini heart attack.

#do you reckon I’m entitled to an Apple Watch so I can monitor my heart rate?

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pilot4008 · 8 months

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Apple Watch SE (2nd Gen) [GPS 40mm] Smart Watch w/Starlight Aluminum Case & Starlight Sport Band - M/L. Fitness & Sleep Tracker, Crash Detection, Heart Rate Monitor, Retina Display, Water Resistant $249.00 USD BUY NOW

#smart watch #apple #apple watch #the rock #india love #trending #sports #athletic men / teen / boy #Crash Detection #heart rate monitor

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grandtheftautumn · 9 months

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Going to the endocrinologist is always funny bc I’m always the only patient in here under like 70

#also guess who has to wear a stupid ass Apple Watch now #to monitor her heart rate #don’t listen to me

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product-promotion · 1 year

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Apple Watch SE (2nd Gen)

The Apple Watch SE (2nd Gen) is a smartwatch designed to help you track your fitness, monitor your sleep, and stay connected throughout the day. Here are some of its key features:

GPS: The Apple Watch SE has built-in GPS, which allows you to track your outdoor workouts without needing to bring your iPhone along.

Fitness tracking: The watch can track a variety of workouts, including running, walking, cycling, swimming, and more. It can also track your daily activity, such as steps taken and calories burned.

Sleep tracking: With the watch's sleep tracking feature, you can monitor your sleep patterns and get insights into your sleep quality.

Heart rate monitor: The watch has a heart rate sensor that can measure your heart rate throughout the day and during workouts.

Retina display: The watch has a bright, high-resolution Retina display that makes it easy to read notifications, messages, and other information.

Water resistance: The watch is water-resistant and can be worn while swimming or doing other water-based activities.

Crash detection: The watch can detect if you've been in a fall or other incident, and will prompt you to call emergency services if you don't respond within a certain time frame.

The Apple Watch SE (2nd Gen) comes with a Midnight Aluminum case and a Midnight Sport Band in size M/L. It also includes a variety of other features, such as Siri voice commands, cellular connectivity (if you opt for the cellular version), and the ability to run apps directly on the watch.

#The Apple Watch SE #Crash detection #Water resistance #Retina display #Heart rate monitor #Sleep tracking #GPS #Fitness tracking

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u2hearts · 1 year

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2022 Going Out with Vertigo

Happy New Year everyone. It is officially over. We made it through another holiday season. I started 2022 in the hospital with Covid and ended at home with a new symptom, Vertigo. I never had this before. It came out of nowhere. I was watching TV on December 30th and leaned my head to the side. Wow, I was spinning 😵‍💫. What the heck is going on now?? I can have low blood pressure, that was my…

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catflorist · 10 days

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omg that sasusaku art you reblogged... i would pay so much money for your take on that prompt!!!

hi anon! here you go! :) thank you for this prompt, it's been a long time since i wrote anything and it was really fun! i hope you like it!

inspired by this incredibly beautiful artwork by @millientea!

dreams [post-war sasusaku, rated T] ao3 / ffn

In the brief time between the break of his fever and the break of dawn, Sasuke was absent of all his guilt. He held onto Sakura’s hand, and fought sleep to experience the sensation for as long as possible.

After the war, Sasuke's injuries keep him stuck in the hospital. Sakura visits every day.

First Sasuke lost a war with himself. Then he lost an arm. Then the infection and the fever struck, making him keel over then shiver feebly in his hospital bed for three days straight.

His more lucid moments were filled with strangers whizzing into his room to poke and prod him and stick needles horribly into his arm. And when the fever took hold, it carried him downstream to delirium. His nightmares were kind enough to visit him in waking hours, magnified and painted in strong color and detail. And each time he drifted briefly back to consciousness he was greeted with hot, billowing pain at the stump of his arm and the sound of his vitals blaring.

Later a team of doctors inform him that he’s survived a deadly case of sepsis and avoided a second amputation of his left arm. He’ll need bedrest and continued close monitoring. Naruto’s healing well, he hears. Figures.

The days blur. An IV chains Sasuke to bed, where he chokes on boredom thick as smoke. He memorizes the markings of each bird that lands on his windowsill. He watches a ball of dust in the corner move three riveting inches to the left over the course of twenty-four hours. He whips out his sharingan to memorize the lines of his palm, and compares that image to a corresponding record from the last time he was bored to death in a hospital. His heart line has grown longer.

Monotony breaks whenever Sakura breezes into his room.

“I brought you apples.” She smiles at him, a little knowingly. The apples are cut neatly into decorative slices.

She visits at the beginning and end of each shift. In the mornings she smiles brightly in a crisp white coat, and twelve hours later she still smiles brightly, with tired circles under her eyes and loose uncombed hair. This time she’s wearing civilian clothes, here to see him even on her day off.

She’s fearless, for her part. He’s quiet.

When he thinks back to the haze of fever, he remembers slender and cool fingers smoothing damp hair from his brow. A swirl of healing chakra that felt like the way her voice sounds. When he awoke, a nurse mentioned the doctor attending his case invented a new chakra technique on the spot to siphon away the infection.

Sasuke didn’t need to ask who. She never said anything, and he never asked.

He suspects Sakura’s involvement elsewhere, too. When he thinks about why he’s not kept in handcuffs or locked away entirely. In the roasted tomatoes that appear on his meal trays. The reason why Naruto is allowed the occasional visit, shuffling in on crutches and staying until the nurses chase him away.

Sakura sets the plate of apples at his bedside. Today, they resemble rabbits. Sasuke has never eaten more apples in his life, but he does not think of complaining.

“Good news. Your IV is coming out tomorrow!” She smiles, waiting for his reaction.

Right. He should be happy. The feeling flickers dimly and goes out like a damp torch.

Sasuke doesn’t know what his life will look like from here on out. There’s nothing left to hunt after. The main sources of his suffering have all vanished or changed form. All that awaits him is empty space and time—time to reflect, to let the cumulation of all his actions and decisions sink in.

He doesn’t regret the desertion, the treason, as much as others might hope. If he were to go back in time, knowing what he knows about the village, his choices might even look similar. But he regrets hurting the people who cared for him.

He regrets hurting her.

Sakura’s smile has faded. “What’s wrong?”

Sasuke wants to sink under his blankets, to be alone with his guilt. “Nothing.”

“Are you in pain?”

He throws her a glare. “I said it’s nothing.”

Years ago, this would have been enough to scare her away. Now green eyes meet his with full force. “Don’t do this. Don’t be distant.” Sakura’s fingers flex and curl at her sides. “Whatever is on your mind, you can tell me.”

She treats him with such kindness, such patience, though he’s certain he doesn’t deserve it.

“Why are you here, Sakura?” he asks quietly.

“I’m a doctor,” she says, with a flash of irritation.

“You know what I mean.” Sasuke’s vision swims like the beginnings of a migraine. “Leave me. Get on with your life.” He wants the words to carry a touch of contempt, but the lump in his throat filters it all out.

“Why would I leave you?” The pure sincerity of her voice cuts him through. “We just got you back.”

His tongue feels thick and heavy. “I’ve hurt you.” How could she forget?

“I’ve hurt you, too.”

He manages a shake of the head. It’s not the same.

“It’s in the past,” she insists. “We want you in our lives—we always have!”

“I don’t understand why,” he bites, gaining strength.

“Because I love you!”

Birds take off from the windowsill.

Wringing her hands, Sakura clarifies, more weakly, “I love all my friends.”

An icy flame tears through Sasuke’s entire body. He doesn’t believe her. Somehow, he must have tricked her. After everything he’s done, how can someone lower themselves so deeply as to love him? Hot pressure rises behind his eyes. He opens his mouth to recite every reason why she’s wrong.

“So get used to it,” Sakura snaps, recovering and doubling down, like she knows what he’s about to say. Sakura, who has always been a little brazen with her affection, who has so much love and care to give that it confounds him and most others. “I don’t care what’s happened or how long it’s been. You’re still my teammate.”

Sasuke feels a phantom of his past self crouch on his chest. It whispers, push her away, break the plate of apples. Trust yourself and no one else. Be alone. This is the way he knows to protect himself. It’s worked so well, all throughout his life, he can’t imagine anything different.

Does he need to protect himself, from her? Did he ever?

“And…you’re still my friend.” Sakura’s shoulders rise and fall in a deep breath. “If that’s what you want.”

Outside, a raven’s feather drifts in a slow spiral of wind. Sasuke nods.

Sakura straightens. “Good.” Her eyes are jade reflecting fire. “Being friends won’t kill you, I promise. See you in the morning.”

In the morning, Sakura arrives to remove his IV. She’s still carrying an air of quiet victory. To inch this close, to insist on picking up their friendship exactly where they left it, that’s some audacity. Bravery, even.

He needs it.

His heart would crack without it.

Sakura carefully loosens the adhesive and presses gauze over the IV site. Sasuke is already looking away, taking a shallow breath to prepare himself.

“There’s no needles at this part,” she says.

It’s true, he hates needles—one glimpse and he breaks into a cold sweat. But he’s never told anyone. It bothers him that she noticed. “How did you know?”

“I’m a doctor,” she says, which explains very little. “It’ll be quick, I promise.”

“Still hate it,” he breathes.

“I know,” she says. “Done.”

He looks back. She smiles when their gazes meet, holding down pressure on his arm. He didn’t feel a thing.

“You make a small sound.” Her voice is soft. “Under your breath. Like you’re trying to speak but hold it back.”

Sasuke thought he hid the discomfort well. If he can miss such small details about himself, no wonder he was wrong about almost everything—what path to take, and where to place blame, and who to trust. His world has turned over too many times to count.

His senses hone in on Sakura’s touch, muted as it is through gloves and layers of gauze. She’s never changed. Never failed to ease his hurts.

He wants to ask about the fever. The infection that strode in like one last attempt by the world to kill him. She saved his life.

He feels his hand float through the air, stretching towards her face.

Empty air buzzes where his fingers should be grazing her brow. He’s still not used to the loss of his dominant hand. His stump lowers back to his side. Sakura’s expression remains calm, unknowing.

“Thank you,” he says instead.

He knows what the words will mean to her. And so he says it.

A soft smile overtakes Sakura’s face. Sasuke is known for his infamous gaze, but now he doesn’t know where to put it. When to meet her crinkling eyes and for how long. If it’s considered normal to observe the rise of her cheek, the strands of pink hair falling around her face. If he should risk a glance at her smiling lips. The decisions overwhelm him, and he finds he must look away.

Something is different, he thinks.

“He’s on your roster today? Good luck.”

Sasuke’s room is stationed at a quiet bend of the hall, a blind spot between patient rooms and administrative offices where hospital staff stop to gossip before continuing on their rounds. Whether he wants to or not, he’s often forced to eavesdrop.

“—ripped out his IV. Yes, just ripped it out. Three times. Maybe four. Wouldn’t let anyone touch him.”

“Have you noticed all those horrible birds outside his window? The crows?”

A laugh. “Never seen anything like it. Like a curse, I swear—”

“Excuse me.” The conversation grinds to a halt at Sakura’s sharp voice. “Room Four is still waiting on warm blankets.”

Footsteps scatter in two different directions. Sakura sweeps into his room. Her face is a storm. If he saw that expression on a battlefield, he would reach for his weapon. He pictures her cutting apple slices into playful shapes to reverse the effect.

“Don’t listen to them,” she mutters, and throws the curtain divider closed.

“I don’t care.”

“I care.” Absent-minded, a frown tugging at the corners of her mouth, Sakura does something she’s never done before: she sits on his bed. All Sasuke’s attention is pulled to the hand’s width of space between his ankle and the slight dip of her weight on the mattress. He slowly shifts his legs away, careful not to draw her notice.

Sakura pulls a velvet pouch out of her coat. “Here. I brought something.”

The most exciting part of Sasuke’s day was when the scent of antiseptic wafted through the door a little stronger than usual. His interest spikes. “What is it?”

Sakura opens the pouch and pours dozens of black and white Go pieces onto the bedspread. She begins arranging the board among the folds of his blankets, and after a moment, Sasuke leans forward to help. He hasn’t played Go since he was a child, but the smooth, round stones feel familiar in his palm, and the rules come back quickly. They play five games in a row without speaking. Sakura wins the first, and he wins the last four.

When they look up again, it’s dark. Sasuke’s neck is stiff from bending over the game for so long. Time has never passed so quickly for him in the hospital.

Sakura is sitting fully atop the bed now, as she has for the past three games, legs crossed with a pensive hand held to her chin. She packs away the game pieces in silence and pulls the drawstring shut. A crease lingers between her eyebrows.

“You could have died.”

Her eyes swell with tears. She doesn’t make a sound.

“I didn’t,” Sasuke says, soft as he can.

“But you could have.” The tears flow faster than she can wipe them away.

“You didn’t let me.” It makes his gut twist to see her cry, even if she cries because his life matters to her.

“I almost didn’t bring the flowers that day. I didn’t know if you’d want them.” Sakura lifts a sleeve to her face. “If I wasn’t there when the shock hit…”

Sasuke struggles to follow. His memory of the whole ordeal is hazy. He has a vague recollection of a nurse removing a vase of wilted flowers from the bedside in the days after the fever lifted.

Sakura’s shoulders tremble with a sob. “I could have lost you.”

“You didn’t lose me.” He catches her hand. Fingers slide together like whispering a secret. “You have me.”

She lifts her tearstained face. Sasuke feels feverish as his words echo back in the silence of their breathing. Her lips part, bitten and red.

“You only ripped out the IV twice, Sasuke-kun.”

Her expression is knit with determination. Sasuke can’t stop himself—a smile twitches onto his mouth. Sakura seems confused by the reaction, studying him hard.

Movement flashes in the corner of Sasuke’s eye as a large black bird lands smoothly on the windowsill. He recognizes this one for a miniscule nick in its leftmost flight feather.

“And the birds. They’re ravens,” he says evenly. “Not crows.”

Sakura smiles, sudden and shining and wide. Sasuke doesn’t fully understand the meaning of the exchange, but contentment sweeps over him.

The warmth of her hand lingers long after she lets go, and he remembers something about the fever.

The infection stalls for days, but when the worst comes, it comes quickly.

First Sasuke’s mouth fills with saliva, then arrives a tsunami of inexplicable dread, and that’s all the warning he receives before an important current in his body shifts off-course and begins to sweep him away. Sasuke breathes deep. A sweet scent hovers in the air. Sakura arrived a moment ago with fresh-cut flowers.

His stump throbs with such a sick, bleeding ache that he loses his grip on his senses. His limbs are all trembling. Another breath. His lungs allow just enough air to call out her name.

Footsteps, a sharp voice. “Sasuke? What’s wrong?”

Healing chakra skims over his body. Sakura lets out a tense breath.

Sasuke knows suffering like he knows the face of an old friend. He can feel it loom over him, its breath ghosting the back of his neck.

“It’s—it’s serious, Sasuke-kun.” The air thickens with chakra, a thrum strong enough to detect by ear. “But you’re going to be fine.”

The breath returns to his lungs, but in exchange, screaming hot pain erupts at his arm and reverberates through every corner of his body. Each pain that flares and fades is replaced quickly by another. His mouth and the tip of his nose go numb. His vision cuts in and out. He is a boat tossed by angry waves, kept afloat solely by the light touch of Sakura’s fingertips.

“Don’t leave,” he hears himself say.

Her voice finds him like sunlight. “I won’t.”

“Do you hate me, Sakura?”

Not long ago, Sasuke hated her. The ache of hatred never left his chest. He hated her so much that her face sometimes replaced his nightmares, and he would wake up blinking away tears. He understands if she feels the same.

He never hears her response. A dark, turbulent quiet rushes over his head, and his old friend follows after him.

At dawn on the day his fever breaks, Sasuke floats awake, greeted by swirls of light floating on the inside of his eyelids. His body feels like his own, but different, like he’s been pulled apart and put back together in a different order. He curls his fingers—the numb tingle of phantom pain lights on one side. The fingers of his other hand tighten around something.

He opens his eyes to a world washed in soft grey. To Sakura’s sleeping face, her hair silver in the light. A dream? No, his mind doesn’t grant him peaceful dreams.

Her head rests tired and heavy on the edge of the bed. Between them lies their hands, tightly clasped, as if they met in a moment of turbulence and held on ever since. Long enough so he can’t distinguish her touch from his own. Flowers watch on the windowsill, shedding petals.

Sasuke plays more games of Go. Less needles are stuck into his arm. He begins to walk again. He feels fresh air on his face. Sakura’s visits continue like clockwork, until one morning she fails to walk through his door.

He sits and watches the birds as morning stretches into afternoon. The chair that has never left his bedside remains empty. After years apart, how quickly he’s grown accustomed to her presence. But this stretch of time is coming to a close. When he leaves the hospital, he doubts he will see her so often.

His window looks out onto the hospital roof, crisscrossed with pipes and exhaust vents, and a small sliver of the street. When the wind blows just right, the branches of a sakura tree wave into view, buds unfurling.

Hard as Sasuke tried to shunt away his past life, he could never escape the spring. The torture of falling petals, of green and pink. The world around him transformed as if to ensure he could never forget her.

Daylight is getting long when Sakura wobbles in, rubbing her eyes. “Hi.”

Sasuke’s spine straightens. “Hey.”

She sits in her spot by the bed, where he’s been playing a game of Go with himself. “How’s the game?”

“I’m losing,” he says.

Sakura smiles and shifts one of the white stones to a dangerous location. Warmth floods Sasuke’s chest, though now he’s certain to lose. Their hands move back and forth over the imaginary board, bold and quick.

Sakura yawns victoriously as she captures his last tile. “Another?”

Exhaustion shadows her eyes, but if he answers yes, she’ll delay sleep even longer. Does she ever sleep? Hospital staff are always wandering the halls to seek her opinion, or pull her into surgeries, or hand her a stack of paperwork. Yet she carves out a portion of her valuable time for him.

Sasuke shakes his head. But he’s not selfless enough to give up her company so soon. “How are you?”

Her tired gaze lifts and flicks away. A faint blush dusts her cheeks. Why? Is it strange for him to ask? He’s still ruminating when she answers. “I’m okay. It’s been a long day. Emergency surgery, complications, everything. I can’t remember the last time I slept…” Their fingers brush twice as they put away the game pieces. “I’m really sorry I couldn’t come earlier.”

“You don’t have to be sorry.”

Sakura leans against his bed and drops her head onto her arms. “Hope you didn’t miss me too much.”

What can he say? He did miss her.

Springtime has come again. The season used to drive him mad. The sakura flowering all at once, all over the continent, wherever he looked. The petals scattering like rain in the wind, catching in the folds of his cloak. The sight of blossoms on bare wood, crossing over his head in a blooming lattice. The five-petaled flowers, the five fingers of a hand he would never touch again. The color. It tested his patience, his devotion to his goal like nothing else.

Sasuke skims his fingers over the pink wave of her hair. He’s always wanted to, deep down. Sakura cracks open her eyes, catches him red-handed in his affection. He runs a thumb in the barest caress across her cheekbone. He is at his weakest in the spring.

“Come here,” he mumbles, fairly certain that she will. Terrified that she won’t.

“Where?” she whispers.

Sasuke lifts his chin. He rests his hand on the blanket. His fingertips burn from touching her. “Here.”

Even as Sakura slides into the bed, rests her head in his lap, he cannot fully believe what he’s seeing. She presses closer to him, as if she wants to be close, and her eyes drift shut, as if his presence soothes her. A spell falls over Sasuke as he listens to her breathing. His hand lowers to her back.

Maybe, in the end, it’s as simple as she said. She loves him.

Sleepy green eyes blink open with a trace of shyness, of the girl that used to blush each time he spared her a glance. He will never admit how often he tested his powers. “You don’t mind?”

“No,” he says.

Sakura climbs higher. She folds her arms across his chest like he’s a pillow and tucks her cheek into the crook of her elbow. Sasuke’s heartbeat grows unsteady. Her hair smells the same, like jasmine.

Sasuke never imagined a future beyond his revenge, that his life could continue on and contain moments lit in a glow like sunlight through petals. Holding her awakens desires that have nothing to do with pain and sacrifice. He wants to stroke her hair until she falls asleep. He wants to visit her dreams. He wants even more. His chest aches in the way he once thought was hatred.

He touches her cheek, straightening out a lock of silky hair. She doesn’t stir.

Sasuke closes his eyes, and like he’s never had trouble with it before, dreams.

#sasusaku fanfiction #sasusaku #sasusaku post war #sasusaku fanfic #ss fic #my ss #sasusaku prompt

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thebibliosphere · 8 months

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Can I ask what watch + app you use? I’ve got a med that’s messing with my heart rate and I got a watch that was supposed to have continuous heart rate monitoring, but it doesn’t seem to work. Mine only allows as frequently as every 5 minutes, but I noticed in the pic of your watch you posted a while back that yours measures every minute?

Mines is an older Apple Watch I got with my phone. No idea what the newer ones are like. It works well, still.

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sandboxer · 10 months

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I’m so serious about gym guy edgeworth. his therapist makes him take time to do something for himself every week and instead of following the spirit of that instruction he takes it upon himself to read every bit of fitness, nutrition, and wellness literature published in the past 15 years. he is in equinox critiquing strangers’ forms whilst lifting the bar. despite his dedication to proper form his one hold-out is that he refuses to have a spotter. he shows up in sweat bands and compression socks. he has three different pairs of shoes that he changes into during different phases of his workout. he has an apple watch and a fitbit and a heart rate monitor. he keeps excessive notes and statistics and publishes progress pics and detailed write-ups on his wordpress blog weekly.

#he can’t be normal about a thing #..neither can I apparently #miles edgeworth #c thinks

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becomingkatie · 4 months

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I got a garmin watch last week - the Lily 2. I've had fitbits before and an apple watch at one point. I've enjoyed them, but always get a bad rash on my wrist from the silicone band. I did change out my fitbit band to nylon last time, and that was better but didn't wholly fix it. I went with one with a leather band this time. When I was in high school I had a watch with a leather band and I wore it all the time, literally until the band fell apart (I now know how to take better care of leather).

So far I'm liking it. My main goal with it was to prompt me to move more, and to move more throughout the day. I can't hit my step goal without going for a walk or doing some sort of intentional movement - it's just not going to accidentally happen, so I end up doing SOMEthing every day. It seems REALLY bad at getting my heart rate accurately during high-intensity workouts. Like, it thinks my heart rate maxed out at 120 during a peloton ride where I was fighting for my life. If I want accurate heart rate data during those, I wear a chest strap. The watch did see my heart rate get up above 100 when I was changing out Theo's litterbox - carrying a 40lb bag up the stairs, moving around trying to get the job done before I logged on for my first meeting of the day. It does seem to get my heart rate correct when I'm just sitting around, walking, or doing around-the-house cleaning/activities that raise it. I wonder if it would do better on a run or an outdoor bike ride than on a stationary bike ride? But again, I've got more reliable heart rate monitors for when I want accurate data during a workout. My goal with the watch was motivation, and so far it's providing it.

And it's so much cuter/more stylish than the fitbits or other trackers I've had in previous years. That's another reason I chose it. It looks like a beautiful watch I can wear with nice outfits, not like a fitness tracker. One of the Christmas cards we received was from a friend of Ken's - it was him and his wife, and he's holding their baby in the picture. His apple watch lit up with the rotation of his wrist, and you can see his stats in the picture. It cracked me up that they either didn't notice or didn't care.

Anyway, the garmin step goal increases automatically based on your activity levels. It's been increasing every day because I have been taking walks and making sure I hit my goal. Soon it's going to get out of hand and I'll have to turn off the auto-adjust goal feature.

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moon-lit-willow · 4 months

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abelia, edelweiss, taro!

tysm!! <3 sorry these answers are long

abelia ⇢ do you have a particular piece of jewelry you always wear or can’t part with?

i have a silver saturn necklace that i got at griffith observatory in seventh grade that i wear everyday! i also have a bunch of fun earrings that i love, but i really love my felt bee earrings. for can’t part with, i have some necklaces that my grandma has given me as heirlooms that i would be sad to get rid of!

unfortunately, recently i’ve also been wearing an apple watch everyday. i think they’re ugly as fuck, but i’ve been having some trouble with my heart rate that i want to be able to monitor at least a little.

edelweiss ⇢ how’d you think of your url/username? what’s it associated with to you?

i think when i first chose it it was related to a musical, but i can’t remember which lol. now, honestly, i just think it’s pretty. plus, i don’t really want my username tied to a certain fandom/interest bc i don’t like changing it

taro ⇢ if someone called you right now to catch up, what’re the things you’d tell them about?

id probably end up talking about how i’m doing in school. for more exciting things, i’d tell them about how my knowledge bowl team did at regionals, how the musical im doing (anything goes) is going, how i’m officially an editor of the school newspaper (i was assistant editor before), and how i got first chair (of the second band, but still) in an honor band coming up! prob would not talk about the emotional turmoil that’s been going on though

#💜💜💜#ily!

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cynicalone94 · 7 months

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Scar

A follow-up to day twenty's "You Will Regret Touching Him" which you can read here as a refresher

Erin sits in the ambo next to her bleeding boyfriend.

They’d had to cut three spikes off the collar, bandaging them in place in Jay’s neck.

Even so, they’re still fighting to stem the flow of blood running down to soak into the front of his shirt.

He’s still conscious, squeezing back in response to her tight grip on his hand, his eyes roving across the ceiling of the ambulance.

Blocks and a strap across his forehead have been utilized to keep him from moving his head. Erin is leaned forward, as much as she can without getting in the paramedic’s way, to stay in his field of vision.

The monitors start beeping and she turns to look at the paramedic.

“What’s wrong?”

“He’s not getting enough oxygen.” Reyna says. “One of the spikes must have damaged his trachea.”

At Jay’s frightened whimper, Erin leans forward.

“Help him.” she begs.

“I am.” Reyna says. “But I can’t intubate him. The spikes will rip the tube to shreds.”

“But what else can you do?” Erin asks.

“Bypass the spikes.” Reyna says, opening a kit. “Jay? I’m going to inject some lidocaine to numb your neck.”

Jay’s eyes widen.

“It’s going to be okay.” Erin tells him. “Reyna will take care of you. Just hang in there.”

He shakes his head. The movement is limited by the blocks but Erin still squeezes his hand.

“Babe, it’s okay. Just try not to move your head.”

His mouth starts moving, arms coming up to push them away. Blood bubbles up around the center spike.

“Easy Jay.” Erin says, pinning his right arm. “You need to stay still.”

He just keeps struggling, getting more and more agitated. Erin keeps trying to hold him down but it’s getting harder.

And then suddenly he goes still.

He loses consciousness as his oxygen levels drop below ninety percent and Reyna dives in, cleansing his neck with iodine.

Erin’s stomach twists as the scalpel bites into flesh just below his Adam’s apple. Reyna digs her fingers in, spreading the muscle before she slides the tubing into place.

She connects an ambo bag to the end, nodding to Erin.

“I need you to give this a gentle squeeze when I tell you to.”

Erin takes hold of the bag, waiting while Reyna adjusts her stethoscope.

“Go.”

Erin squeezes. Reyna listens, adjusts the tube.

“Go again.”

“Alright we’re in. Go ahead and disconnect the bag. He can breathe on his own now that there’s a clear path.”

Erin nods, sitting back. Reyna packs gauze around the tube to secure it’s position and then starts fastening restraints on the sides of the stretcher.

“What are you doing?” Erin asks.

“He’s going to come to any minute now as his oxygen levels come up.” Reyna says. “And there’s a good chance he’ll be just as agitated if not more so.”

“So restraints?” Erin says.

“I can’t afford to have him rip out the tube.” Reyna says, securing Jay’s left wrist. “I’m sorry.”

He comes to as she’s fastening the other strap, blinking in confusion and immediately trying to move his head.

His heart rate spikes and he tries to move his hands, panicking further when he can’t.

“It’s okay, Jay.” Erin tries to soothe, rubbing is shoulder with her free hand. “You’re okay.”

He keeps struggling, mouth moving but only producing unintelligible sounds of protest.

“Jay, you need to calm down.” Erin begs. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

Already his struggles have increased the bleeding from his neck.

“Can you sedate him?” Erin asks.

Reyna nods and pushes the medication into his IV line. His movements slow but his hands are still moving, fingers twitching.

Erin takes his hand again, holding tight.

“I’m here, Jay.” she promises. “I’m here and I know you’re scared but it’s going to be okay.”

His eyes are still open, still filled with fear. But what she doesn’t see is presence, awareness of the situation.

He’s having a flashback.

The ambulance screeches to a halt and then the back doors are being flung open. Erin watches as Jay is pulled away from her and swallowed by a sea of doctors.

She climbs out of the ambulance once they’ve cleared. Will is standing there.

“What happened?” he asks.

“The bastard put a spike collar on him.” she offers. “Some of the spikes broke the skin. One of them caused some damage to his trachea. Reyna had to do a …”

“A tracheotomy?” he asks when she trails off. “Oh god.”

“He was having a flashback.” she says. “He was scared before but when she started getting ready to do the procedure he… he panicked completely.”

“I’m not surprised.” he says. “I don’t… he won’t talk about it. But I recognized the scar. There was a lot going on at mom’s funeral. I didn’t see it at first and then when I did, well, he already didn’t want to talk to me. Asking about something like that didn’t exactly change anything.”

“So Afghanistan?” Erin asks.

“Most likely.” Will confirms. “And we don’t know anything else about the circumstances.”

“Maybe he’ll be more willing to talk now.” she says. “At least he’s alive. We can worry about the rest later.”

Will nods.

His neck hurts.

Everything else feels okay so why does his neck hurt so badly?

The sounds, the smells; everything tells him that he’s in the hospital so why can’t he remember what happened?

“Jay?”

Erin is here. Probably waiting for him to wake up.

“Jay, if you can hear me can you squeeze my hand?”

He directs his attention to his hands, finding something warm curled around his right hand.

He squeezes the hand.

“Thank goodness.”

“Jay. Can you open your eyes?”

Oh good. Will’s here too.

“Jay?”

Impatient much?

He pries his eyes open, blinking hard and looking around.

“Try not to move too much, Jay.” his brother cautions. “You could still pop stitches really easily.”

“W-”

Even the attempt at talking hurts too much and he immediately falls silent, eyes closing.

“Easy.” Will soothes. “Don’t try to talk either. Your neck is in bad shape.”

He knows that. What he doesn’t know is what happened.

“You were kidnapped by the asshole that was shooting cops.” Erin fills in, seeming to know what he needs.

Right. He remembers being strapped down, unable to move. Remembers something sharp pressing against his neck.

Remembers… the tracheotomy.

No, no, no, no, no.

He tries to reach for his throat, to feel for the tube that had been inserted. But his hands are pinned at his sides.

“Try to stay calm.” Will says, leaning over him. “We were able to remove the tracheotomy tube. It’s been replaced with an endotracheal tube which will be removed in a day or two once your throat has has a chance to heal.”

It’s gone? He stops fighting, searching his brother’s eyes for the truth of his words.

“You’re going to be fine.” Will says. “And maybe when you feel better we can talk about it, talk about the memories this brought up.”

Jay blinks slowly, a single tear streaking down his face.

He doesn’t want to talk about it. Doesn’t want to return to that medevac, two men holding him down while the third had cut into his skin.

The medic had been out of lidocaine. It had been a bad couple of days with a lot of fellow soldiers injured in a series of violent attacks and supplies had been running low across the board.

He can still remember the feeling of the tube sliding through the muscle of his throat, the way it had burned, the way it had pulled and dragged.

Remembers choking and gagging, blood dribbling down his chin.

Remembers the eternal, terrifying moments when he’d been unable to breathe, frantically trying to suck in a breath and coming up empty.

Remembers being sure that this was it. That this was how he was going to die.

“Jay?”

He’s shaken out of the memories as his brother calls his name.

He blinks, trying to focus himself in the present and finding his brother’s face.

“It’s okay.” Will says gently. “We don’t have to talk if you aren’t ready. Just know that I’m here for you, okay, whether you want to talk or not, I’m here.”

Jay nods minutely, squeezing his brother’s hand.

He’s home in Chicago where there will never be a shortage of lidocaine.

And the trauma of having his throat cut into ago is done and over with for now.

All that’s left is to rest and heal.

And maybe when he can talk again he’ll take Will up on his offer.

#whumptober 2023 #no. 27 #scar #Chicago PD #fic #follow up to no. 20 You'll Regret Touching Him #Jay Halstead

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