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#and as my muscles tightened up from convulsing violently while vomiting for several hours
the-black-dragons-den · 11 months
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Me after vomiting from 7 am to noon and not being able to keep even water down:
"Please give me IV fluids"
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The Urgent Care phlebotomists (yes 2 of them) after blowing out my first vein and sticking me unsuccessfully twice more):
"This is because you drink alcohol and smoke weed. We can't help you. Go to the ER."
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elliotlikespuke · 7 years
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have the poor baby ciel suffer from a stomach bug in the midst of an investigation 😎
Hi! Thank you so much for the request. I may have taken a few liberties with this request, but I hope you like it anyway! (Also, I’ve flubbed up the order of my requests, sorry! I promise I will still write what you want!) Enjoy!
Warning: descriptions of vomit under the cut.
     My dear boy, I hope that you are well. This letter is of utmost importance. I require something of you.
     Ciel crumpled the paper in his hand. He /had/ been well. Running errands as the Queen’s Guard dog was always a taxing business, but never had it grated on him this much, at least not physically.
     There is a doctor in London. It is imperative that you investigate is practiced. In the past six months, four of his patients have died of unnatural causes. The the past year, all three of his children have died of the same undisclosed cause.  
     Investigate they had done. Beginning in his office after operating hours, they had examined his quarters. The office was nothing to speak of. There was no traceable poison, nor items to suggest wrongdoing. To the doctor’s credit, leaving such clues would be sloppy. Sebastian remarked that if this man were getting away with murder, he would not be so foolish as to leave his weapon unattended.
     The office itself was disgusting. Ciel would have preferred a hospital to this cabinet, full of the smell of death and not enough disinfectant. He had paid for the decision two days after that night.
     He had woken far too early, feeling far too awful to continue sleeping. His stomach churned painfully, and vomit rose quickly in his throat, with almost no effort. He had leaned over himself onto his bed and spewed the putrid liquid all over his blanket. He managed a shallow, shaky breath, and warm vomit was pouring from his mouth again in excess, bubbling out of him like lava.
     Sebastian had appeared beside him and placed his hand on his back as he coughed, gagged, and eventually spat up more sick. For several minutes they stayed that way, Sebastian unspeaking, and Ciel groaning between each heave. When it seemed his violent fit was over, Sebastian finally spoke.
     "As unfortunate as I find the situation, this may be our greatest chance at investigating the doctor personally.“
     Ciel glared at him, but he knew the demon was right. Sebastian had pressed a hand to his forehead and said, "Quite a fever, young lord. I would be sending you to a doctor regardless.”
     Except this one has the ability to kill me, Ciel thought angrily.
     By noon, they had travelled from his townhouse to the clinic. Ciel, who had never been in an ordinary doctor’s office, was appalled by the state. Several people sat waiting, coughing harshly into handkerchiefs or leaning against loved ones. They waited for hours with a bucket on Ciel’s lap. He was dressed in plainclothes, and the only time he was given a second look was when he vomited. His loud gags echoed along with the various sounds of the others in the room. The sick sound of splashing in the bucket made several people around them turn green.
     When they were finally called in, Ciel had emptied his stomach four times. The only thing he consumed was a small amount of water, forced on him by Sebastian between bouts of sickness.
     "How such a small body could have this much to expel is beyond me.“ Sebastian has remarked with distaste. The others around them seemed to agree.
     The doctor had seemed appalled that a person such as Ciel would be visiting him. Although he did not recognize him for his status, he recognized the fact that he did not recognize him. The doctor put on a mask for the duration of the examination, and Ciel wondered if he truly seemed to be in that bad of shape.
     ‘‘I suppose it’s unsurprising that you managed to contract something this serious. For such a small boy, it must be hard to fight these sorts of things. Do you fall ill often?’’
     Sebastian snickered and whispered, ‘‘Quite.’’
     Ciel glared. The doctor laughed. His laugh was kind, a deep, rich sound. It made Ciel’s head throb. He groaned quietly.
     Sebastian poked quietly around while the doctor busied himself with Ciel. He made a point of looking at the pictures on the wall with feigned enthusiasm. The doctor’s bag laid on the floor under his desk. It was left closed.
     ‘‘Excuse me, but would you mind lying on your back for me? It’s rare, but I’d like to test for appendicitis.’’
     As soon as Ciel twisted, his stomach lurched. He lowered himself gingerly onto the uncomfortable cot. He felt as though there was vomit rising already, quicker and quicker. The nausea had come from nowhere. His feverish head spun at the movement. He suppressed a belch and let the doctor approach.
     ‘‘Alright, just relax for me. I’m just going to push down on your stomach, and you tell me if its uncomfortable. Understood?’’
     Ciel nodded, but he was choking back retches all the time. Sebastian eyed him. He had found something. Sebastian’s burgundy eyes flickered between Ciel and the doctor’s case, now open on the desk. In his hand, Sebastian held a needle.
     The doctor pushed on Ciel’s lower abdomen, below his navel. Ciel’s breath came shorter. If the doctor were to ask him to lift up his shirt, explaining the mark would be no easy feat. The doctor pushed higher, and Ciel swallowed convulsively. His mouth was filling with the same bitter saliva that it had been in the waiting room before he vomited.
     The doctor pushed on his abdomen, directly over the area he was trying desperately to control. He gagged loudly, the sound echoing in this throat.
     ‘‘B-bin!’’ He gasped. The doctor fumbled, but Sebastian was quick. Ciel gave one last heave before hot liquid sprayed from his mouth in a small burst into the bin. The lean muscles in his back tightened. He gave another loud gag, and bile dripped from his nose. Tears stung his eyes at the sharp stinging in his sinuses. He inhaled loudly and began coughing.
     The doctor whispered encouragements, and if he weren’t already vomiting, Ciel thought he may have started.
     Once he was done, the doctor handed him a  cloth to clean himself up with. he accepted it graciously, and wiped at the tears dripping down his cheeks. He hadn’t realized the involuntary reaction and gone this far. He sniffed wetly, and winced at the burning in his nose.
     The doctor excused himself and removed the bin full of sick from the room.
     ‘‘Your timing is impeccable as always sir.’’ Ciel just groaned, and flopped back against the bed. He saw the room jerk around him. His head spun violently. He couldn’t bring himself to think of the case, no matter what might happen to him. At the moment, the only thing he could think of was sleep.
     He pulled the Queen’s letter from his pocket, read a few lines, and crumpled it. Sebastian could watch over him. Right now, he needed to sleep.
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