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#johhny gage
katb357 · 2 years
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Sicktember 10: Excessive Use of Tissues
Thanks once again to my awesome writing partner Xav!
C. Kelly/A Shift/Emergency!
Chet was sleeping in his bunk in the station when something woke him up. His eyes cracked open, and he was aware something wasn’t right. His face hurt, and he realized there was fluid leaking from his nose. He put his hand up to his nose, and his hand got wet. He sat up and reached for his bunker pants. He hurried into the latrine. Sure enough, his nose was bleeding, fairly heavily. He wasn’t terribly alarmed, because the weather had been very hot and dry. He figured the bleed was due to that.
He reached for the box of Kleenex sitting on the counter and after wiping his nose, packed some in both nostrils. He took the box with him and went into the dayroom to wait for the bleeding to stop. He figured it was no big deal and saw no reason to bother any of his sleeping station mates. He simply sat down at the table and tipped his head back, replacing the Kleenex as needed. He was still there fifteen minutes later.
Marco awoke to the call of nature. As he rubbed his eyes and sat up, he noticed that Chet was not on his bed. A trickle of moonlight through the window revealed a dark stain on his pillow, too. Marco was pretty drowsy, though, and it didn’t really register what it was. He pulled on his bunker pants, then trudged toward the latrine. No Chet there. He did his business, then--a little more awake--decided to go out to the day room and find his friend. 
When he got there, he saw Chet sitting at the table with his head tilted back and tissues stuffed in his nostrils. The sight would have been amusing if those tissues weren’t both blood-soaked. “Ai ai ai, amigo!” He ran back to the latrine, grabbed a washcloth, and soaked it in cold water, then hurried back to Chet. “Mama always told me, lean forward, not back, or it all goes down your throat.” He slapped the wet washcloth on the back of Chet’s neck. “That should help.” 
“Thanggs, bal.” Chet’s voice was muffled, and he sounded as if he were in a bit of distress. “I been doin’ this for a while. It ain’t stobbin.”  
“I’m gonna get Roy. He’ll know what to do.” Marco pulled a wad of fresh tissues from the box and thrust them at Chet. “You should change those out.” Then he hurried back to the dormitory. 
Chet nodded, and quickly did so. Crimson blood stained the fresh white tissues quickly. Now Chet was a little worried.
Marco gently shook Roy awake. “Hey, Roy!” He kept his voice low, but the urgency in his tone quickly woke both Roy and Johnny. “Chet’s got a bad nosebleed, and it isn’t stopping. You’d better come.” 
Roy shook himself awake, pulled on his bunker pants, and got up. Johnny followed suit. Together, the trio hurried to the dayroom. 
“What’s up, Chet?” Johnny quipped, but the sight of those stained tissues, both the ones in use and the discarded ones, quickly killed any teasing he might have done. Something was really wrong for him to be bleeding like that. “Hey, you’d better pinch the bridge of your nose.” 
The commotion woke Mike and Cap who came in to see what was going on. Cap called the station out temporarily until they could get a handle on what was happening.
Chet pinched his nose as asked but winced at the pain it caused. The bleeding didn’t slow much either.
“Looks like you’re in pain, pal,” Roy said. He sat down next to Chet. 
Mike asked if they wanted their gear.
Roy nodded. “Yeah. Thanks, Mike.” 
Meanwhile, Johnny moved to the sink. He filled a glass with water and sprinkled some cayenne pepper in it. He brought it back to the table. “Drink this.”
Chet rolled his eyes but drank the concoction. The bleeding did stop finally. 
Chet was impressed and said so, and was all for forgetting the whole thing, but the others were not so inclined. They still needed to know what had caused such a heavy bleed. Rampart was the only answer for that. 
After getting some details from Chet, Roy put in the call on the biophone. “Rampart, this is 51. We have a fireman who suffered a severe nosebleed. It finally stopped, but it lasted about half an hour and soaked through almost a full box of tissues. What do you advise?” 
Kel Brackett didn’t like the sound of it at all, especially when he learned why it had stopped. Not that he was against the remedy, necessarily, but he was worried about the underlying cause. *
“51, is the victim dehydrated as a result? If so, start an IV ringers lactate TKO and transport asap either way. If you want to bring him in the squad, that works. Which fireman are we talking about, by the way?”
“Chet Kelly.” Roy determined that Chet was indeed dehydrated and started the IV as ordered. “We’ll bring him by Squad. Thanks, Rampart.” 
When they got Chet into Treatment Two, Kel checked him over thoroughly and confirmed his suspicion. He asked Kelly, “Were you on a strenuous rescue or fire earlier today, one where you personally were under a lot of stress or strain?”
Chet thought about it and nodded. “Yeah, as a matter of fact. We fought a pretty hairy house fire this morning. Why?”
“Do you remember bumping your face on anything?”
Chet’s forehead furrowed as he thought. “Yeah, actually. I did. Or it bumped me… my helmet got knocked off and before I could pick it up, some debris fell and hit me in the face. I thought I got off easy--it didn’t knock me out or anything.”
“What it did was damage some of the blood vessels in your sinus area… and they finally burst after the pressure was off when you went to sleep. If you hadn’t awakened, you could have potentially bled out, Chet.”
Chet’s eyes just about bugged out at that. “Ya mean… Gage saved my life with that concoction he gave me?” He side-eyed the paramedic, who was looking pretty pleased with himself.
“I believe he certainly helped. They could have packed your soft palate with gauze as well, but it would have been much more uncomfortable for you. Either way, your waking up when you did was the key.”
Chet nodded slowly. The prospect of owing a life-debt to his favorite pigeon had been rather disheartening. He would just chalk up his survival to his own brilliance in not sleeping through the nosebleed. “Well… I don’t know about more uncomfortable. That stuff tasted nasty.” The Phantom was already contemplating payback. 
Brackett eyed him sharply. “Well, you aren’t going anywhere for at least 24 hours. I’m admitting you. You lost a lot of blood, and I want you where I can keep an eye on you. I’m ordering a couple of units of plasma for you. And arguing with me will get you nowhere fast.”
“Aww, Doc. I feel f--” His protest was cut short by a yawn. He’d been going to say he felt fine, but really, he didn’t. He felt wobbly. And really tired. Still, he hated staying at the hospital. “Fine, Doc. Whatever you say. Guess I can catch up on my beauty sleep.” 
Johnny guffawed at that. “You’ll need a lot more sleep than you can get in 24 hours for that, Chet.” 
Chet smiled sleepily, “Aw, go play in traffic, Gage!” 
The End
*Cayenne pepper dissolved in water drops blood pressure and can stop a nosebleed. Just a fun fact...
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mysticdreamcafe · 2 months
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Finding my MoJo with some mystic help
I'm going to put this out there...I'm an intuitive empath that loves her crystals and tarot cards. Pendant's, and rune stones.
So after my rows with nature, stress, family, Dr's, and all around ill health (I don't have many Immunoglobulin G's which I call goblin G troup). Thanks to Goblin Gs going AWOL I have been on antibiotics since July of 2023. 2 weeks on these massive combo pills and a week or two off, repeat either till I am antibiotic resistant or I can get the shots to force goblin G troups to join me and fight. Lets not forget inhalers, nasal sprays, pills both herbal and pharma. medications.
I am going to fight with everything I have through 2024 and if there isn't a significant improvement in at least one area I will stop any traditional medical practices I can and try for a more holistic approach.
Especially, after a bout with COVID-19 that took over 6mo to recover from I have learned to deal with energy syphons. You know, the people who make interaction challenging and tedious. I've always been able to gage a room and the people in it but never trusted my instincts. That has changed, I know am trying to trust my first impressions and inner voice now.
I said I'd mention Johhny Depp in this post so here it goes. It's nothing exciting but more annoying from my point of view.
During my "I quit and will just wait to die" moments during the end of 2023 I saw what my giving up was doing to my mother and daughter. That's when I decided to get through the holidays and then make some changes. So my fingers started typing in preparation things like... nutrition, keto, raw diet, balanced, yoga, brain eating itself, replacing white matter, and so on. Each time I searched a topic Johnny Depp showed up in a clip. There'd be a dog, guitar, baby, rants on his divorce, with his son, etc. His clips had nothing to do with what I was researching.
Let me refresh you...I DON'T CARE ABOUT FAMOUS PEOPLE SO i DON'T RESEARCH THEM. Though stuff does pop up occasionally it's not about one celeb over and over. During this time I had looked up why people couldn't leave Keanu Reeves and his girlfriend alone. My daughter brought it to my attention so I searched.
According to computer science if you search a topic either via typing it on a keyboard or verbally asking an AI like Alexa about it. Once you've selected the topic: famous name, raised garden beds, new roofs, dog characteristics, etc. the search engine (bing, google, etc) will flood you with ads regarding these specific topics.
Mr. Reeves plays bass in a band so why was Depp the one showing up?
After a few weeks of Johnny Depp ads annoying the crap out of me I went to bed irritated and with a killer migraine. That is until I remembered...things usually happen for a reason. What is the reason? So I asked Alexa...what instrument he plays, his band name, other members, play some of their songs.
I'll be honest and say the first song didn't resonate with me. I continued for a few more songs and one was an Alice Cooper remix. This brought nostalgia and emotion that I've missed since I stopped listening to music regularly. Migraines and music or any noise don't get along so I opted for quiet.
I asked for Alexa to switch to 80s rock and something clicked.
I've started this blog and not sure how often I'll post since I quit Social medias for the most part...esp FB, to limit screen times. I'm looking into a free course on coding through Stratford U. I have a BA in computers but it's been ages since I've written code or done anything with computers themselves due to illness.
Remember I am writing most things, except this blog, long hand.
Oh I want to say in case one of Johnny's people see this post that I wrote to him to thank him for reminding me about my love of music. I stopped listening again during a rough patch and he started popping up again! I grabbed my headphones and started listening to some Mozart. A day later the pop ups were back to normal.
I received a mass produced photo of him, I don't think he signed it and it was simply printed with photo but the gesture is nice. If one of his people read this tell him that even though we've never met I thank him for helping me out of a dark time via reminding me of my love of music and to keep spreading his energy.
When I wrote Johnny I didn't ask for anything but I just wanted him to know he'd made a difference in some ordinary persons life without even realizing it.
The writing of letters long hand, in cursive, has helped and if anyone wants to pen pal please let me know and I'll set up a PO Box. Assholes need not apply!
Time for a reading and meditation.
May you be grounded and good energy surround you
MV
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nerdhappenings · 5 years
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Providential Meeting (Post 35) 5-7-14
                        I ran into Father Fabio at Saturday morning mass this week.  He gave me a touch on the arm when I came up for communion.  We usually run into each other once a week or so, but our interaction is habitually brief.  His English is improving but has not yet progressed to small talk and my Spanish is stuck on hola. (It is a sad statement that a man who supervisors dozens of Mexican and Salvadoran citizens struggles to order a burrito in a taquería.) Still despite our language barrier Father Fabio and I are connected.  He has been to the Donnelly household.
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Our family doesn’t entertain much now but we may down the road. Within another couple years we will certainly have broken or tossed enough of our Fort Wayne possessions so that our abode will naturally declutter so that it does not habitually resemble a monsoon aftermath.   Our mess would drive any sensible realtor into a conniption fit necessitating a pitcher of margaritas, two hours of yoga and at least one session of counseling. Regardless, Father Fabio visited us and survived to tell about it.
The occasion was not for supper but to give the last rites to Pam.  (Not to worry this won’t mostly be too sad, but I will describe the situation.) Because I didn’t want Abby to be in the room when Pam passed, I sent her for Father Jerry who had a close relationship with Pam.  I then prayed the Divine Mercy Chaplet over her until she stopped breathing – Father Jerry had told me that the breathing change would happen.  Then I sat for a while and listened to Nickelodeon playing on the television in the other room.   After sitting in fearful procrastination for several minutes, I interrupted The Nanny and gave Natalie the bad news.  After helping her visit Pam, I called Stephen Jr and several family members and let them know that Pam had passed.  I decided not to call Nicholas at Straw Hat because I was worried about him driving home while upset. Unfortunately he checks his Facebook at break so I got a call from him within five minutes of my letting our first relative know.
Then Father Fabio arrived. Unable to find Father Jerry, Abby had kidnapped the only available priest she was able to find on a Saturday afternoon in February.  She did this using all the Spanish she remembered from the three years of classes at Liberty High School – exactly bupkus.  I have probably gained more fluency through viewing several hundred episodes of Dora the Explorer in a half somnolent state than Abby has in her legitimate course work.  While this lingual lack is academically disappointing, Abby did deliver Father Fabio to our door step.
Then, as might be expected, things got slightly confused.  We tried some sign language.  We discovered that there is no intuitive sign for “my wife was in the back room receiving hospice care but now is no longer breathing”, but Abby and I maneuvered him back the master bedroom anyway. Then one of us, probably Abby, was inspired by the Holy Spirit to think of Regis Philbin.  Eureka! We phoned a bilingual friend, Rudy Adames, from the Men of St Joseph.
Rudy explained to Father Fabio that although Pam was still warm and possibly could be revived, we were satisfied that she was with Jesus.  I cannot imagine that finally resting in the peace and contentment of Jesus’ bosom, Pam would have appreciated Johhny Gage and Roy DeSoto applying the shock paddles to return her to the drudgery of a Foley catheter and all the pleasure of hospice care.  Through Rudy, Father Fabio explained to us that because she was still warm the sacrament that he had administered was effective.  We thanked both Father Fabio and Rudy and then Abby returned the good padre to the scene of the abduction.
Although awkward at first, a true connection remains between Father Fabio and me.  The two of us share our connection to Pam and to IHM parish although we don’t always interact with the same people or often attend the same masses or events.  Still Father Fabio provided my wife with an important sacrament which assisted her to her new home in the next life.  For me, the IHM community sometimes seems like a spider web of connections to people and providential meetings with others we don’t know or rarely see.  For instance, in the Monday night meetings of the men of Saint Joseph where I met Rudy, we often receive visitors that stumble in and join us for a night because they missed an email that canceled or moved a Knights of Columbus, Charismatic or Divine Mercy meeting.  The Men of St Joseph welcome these brothers who join us for prayers in Christ’s name.  The IHM community, as a whole, is similar; we are not divided by language or ethnicity but united as the Body of Christ.
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itsybittsy · 12 years
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Johnny Gage ranked #9 on TV Guides 50 sexiest men in uniform
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