F/O: Remember, I don't have a medical license...So if anything goes wrong, it's not my fault!

Doctor Distrust Headcanon

I don't know if I've actually made an official headcanon for this, but Ikkaku has an instinctive distrust towards a lot of doctors. She was traumatized by the bigotry and mistreatment she'd witnessed at Arkham Hospital back home, the knowledge of what was done to the patients during the Siren Plague, was herself threatened with lobotomy by a doctor as a young child, and continued to be reminded of their greed and corruption every time she had to look at the statue in front of the hospital that had been paid for using money her grandfather had given to find a cure for the plague. Before joining the Hearts, her last check-up was when she was six, and the last time she had been looked over by a real doctor was when she was seven (and Tomasu had a gun to the man's head the whole time just to be safe).

Law, of course, is the main exception to this, but that's because he proved himself in her eyes before she even set foot in his exam room. Even then she was extremely nervous during her first check-up with him, and while she's better now, there are times when she'll instinctively avoid going to him if she's sick or injured (even if she'll badger others when the roles are reversed). She's also generally fairly trusting of any medically trained members of the Hearts as well since they're nakama.

Other doctors she's willing to trust are Chopper (he's too cute for her to be scared of, doctor or no) and Marco (her grandfather was able to vouch for him long before they even met due to his connection to Whitebeard). And there's Herbert West, but he had to earn that trust first. But while she's more willing to warm up to doctors than Marines, she's still instinctively distrusting of you if you tell her you're a doctor, simply because she's known too many bad apples.

Drabble title: Surgery for a songbird Characters: Viroxa Galrix(picture), Unnamed bronze Summery: A brief peak into the work of a cerulean doctor and one of his many “patients”.

Very dark themes ahead, check the tags, I attempted to tag everything I could think of.If you think of others that should be here, let me know

Disclaimer: Fully aware this guy is fucked up. I don't condone any of his actions (obviously). This is a fictional character, and does horrendous fictional deeds. Read at your own discretion.

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Dark...

Cold... It's... cold.

“Ah, there we are. Welcome back to the waking world moonlight. Have a nice rest?”

Voice... Bad... Voice.

“Ah ah ah, no. You know the rules, no thrashing. We don’t want you hurting yourself do we? Well... not that you could feel it if you did. Still nice and numb from the medicine I hope.”

Force... Moving... Pushed... Down... Laying... No... Bad

"Today's the day, you are going to make the hopes and dreams of a young bronzie come true."

No...

“... You’d think this gets easier with each of these appointments. Sadly that rarely seems to be the case. Most of my donors get cold feet like you do. Every time... "

Escape... Move... Escape... Help.

"..."

"... Moonlight, please. I told you to stop thrashing... You're going to make this much harder for everyone involved. We go over this so frequently..."

No... No!

"Sigh... I had hoped the removal of your legs would have prompted a little more cooperation from you. I had assumed by the third neural vivisection you'd have dropped these pre-op anxieties, dear... Perhaps I expect too much, but really my dear, this is getting a bit old..."

"Alright, that's enough..."

Still... Be still.... No... Be still. Shh. Still... Escape!

Honestly I hate to raise my abilities to you moonlight, really you know I do, but really you give me no choice. All that movement could cause my scalpel to slip... There were go. Nice and still. Now stay just as you are while I get my tools, please. Removal of the vocal cords is a very tedious task. Soon enough though, you'll be helping a most lovely young lady sing to her heart's content for the first time in sweeps. Tragic life that one has lived, but you, you're going to give her her happy ending. I hear from a credible source your voice is quite heavenly. She'll be happy to carry its torch to an audience."

Still. Stop... Be still... Please... Still... Please stop.. Shh

"... Aw. Now now, don't give me the waterworks. This is a good thing, moonlight. Such a songbird's voice wasting away in the streets. It was only a matter of time before the drones came for you, you know. If the circus didn't scoop you up for their own entertainment. A barbaric lot that bunch can be... A homeless bronze blood, blood of your lussus still staining your clothes. I'd have given you a day if not hours. All that potential that would have gone to such a waste. To leave you out there would be to leave you for death. And we simply couldn't have that, could we?"

Death...Shh.. Die... Die... You're ok... please... Everything is fine... I don't...

"I envy you a little, honestly. A bit of you is going to reach the masses someday. A translator for that troll's hopes and dreams. An honorable position a piece of you will hold. Just as your legs helped that kind young man walk again. What was his name again. Was it-... Hm .. no that's not it..."

Name... What... Name... My... Name... Did I... Have? I... Hive... want...Go hive...

"Here we are. Everything nice and ready here. Now we can begin the operation. This'll be over in just a moment just hold still..."

Stop. Shh. Stop. Stop. Calm.. STOP

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In the quiet of a lab, the sound of a man at work are all a mind can hear. The quick, precise snipping of a surgical scalpel and scissors against wet skin every few moments. He's accompanied by the hum of machinery, it's many wires and tubes that run to and fro. Through these artificial veins pumped the false blood that kept his patient's body operational.

He could be like this for days if given the chance. The rush of adrenaline his line of work gave him was matched only by the knowledge of how much joy it brought his clients. Repurposing these old parts, rescuing them from their wasteful end, that's what this was all about. Efficiency, and the extended life of those who'd soon have had theirs torn from them. But until every part had found its purpose, he'd need to keep them fresh, usable. Alive.

A challenging task, for sure. He was more than willing to accept such a task, however. The fusing of metal and flesh, such a wonderfully interesting concept. To extend the time of the temporary, with the cold, hard exterior of eternity.

It's exciting, is it not? When the removal of his chosen parts was complete, he's quick to set it aside, iced and prepared for transplantation. Now comes the next phase of the procedure, he thinks to himself as he lifts his drill from the table.

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A lone mind sits in darkness.

It has not been able to see for some time now.

It can not count the days, nor nights.

Its mind screams to move, but its body lacks the strength, the will nor range to move from its confinements. So often it has tried to scream, but found no jaw to move. No tongue to form words.

Blind eyes weep tears of bronze down metal cheeks as it is pushed back into its container. It can sense this. The moving air over its numbed face one of the few senses it has been left with, if faded and distant.

It has stopped again.

Consciousness would soon cease again. It always did.

It is scared.

How much did he take this time.

How much will he take next?

Is it... Even a troll, anymore?

Will the next one be the last?

It doesn't know. It wants to leave. It wants to see again. It wants to feel grass upon its skin, rain upon its head.

The form lay strapped to a surgical table. It's body a mix of contorted flesh, carved away in places then wrapped in bandages. What wasn't wrapped was capped or welded shut with shiny grey metal, aside from its chest currently. The cavity pulled open and back to display what few organs remained like a frog on a lab student's table. Its most vitals long since having begun the pilfering and replacement process; ticking gears were a heart once beat, bloated sacks where its lungs once breathed. It's blood, once a vibrant bronze now diluted with artificial replacers, heavy in sedative drugs. Perhaps the only thing keeping the agony from this butchered existence at bay. What was likely a blessing at first now a curse as it longs for the feeling of anything at all, even pain, discomfort, something. It's thoughts have become lesser with each day of dismemberment. Its name lost, its identity, if it had one before, now lost in the wind. It remembers being called she once. But even that feels like an eternity ago, far from reach and lost in obscurity. It was only a matter of time before that too was taken.

It can feel itself slipping away again as it joins the others in storage. Back into unconsciousness. Back into the long dark before the repeat. Just like the times before, it's thoughts are few of words but consistent. A plea. A cry.

Kill... Me...

God how I wish there'd been articles like this years ago when people were tripping over themselves to deny any and all struggles asexual people face. The amount of times people demanded "proof" when we talked about our experiences. Well, there's certainly more research being published nowadays, if that counts as "proof". I hope they read it.

Today “asexuality is widely accepted as a sexual orientation in the literature,” Hille says, but cultural awareness remains in its infancy, especially compared with other orientations under the LGBTQIA+ umbrella. Saying you don't experience sexual attraction is still like saying you don't eat, Hille explains, and “if you don't eat, there's something wrong with you, and you're hurting yourself.” Asexual people sometimes get this message not just from family and acquaintances but from their health-care providers. Shelby Wren, a health equity researcher at the University of Minnesota, published a study in 2020 in which 30 to 50 percent of respondents who had disclosed their asexuality in a medical setting said a therapist or doctor had attributed their asexuality to a health condition. The proposed diagnoses included anxiety, depression and, in one case, a personality disorder. “You don't know what's going to happen when you disclose your sexual orientation,” Wren says. “And for a lot of people, that stops them from talking about things that could be relevant to their health care.”

[...]

Refraining from disclosing one's asexuality to a mental health provider is often a “very rational decision,” Chasin says. “It's always much worse to be actively rejected and misunderstood.” For instance, asexual people are sometimes subjected to conversion therapy, a practice aimed at changing someone's sexuality or gender identity. It is banned for minors in 22 U.S. states because of its well-documented and extensive harms, including increased rates of suicide. A 2018 U.K. government survey of LGBTQIA+ people found that asexual respondents were the most likely to be offered conversion therapy and as likely as gay and lesbian people to receive it. A recent survey by the Trevor Project found that 4 percent of asexual youths in the U.S. were subjected to conversion therapy, on par with bisexual respondents. On the legislative level, bans on conversion therapy should explicitly reference asexuality, Benoit says. So, too, should professional associations of health-care practitioners, says Samantha Guz, a social work researcher at the University of Chicago. “Asexual people are made to be so invisible in our society that I don't think just having a broad call against conversion therapy is specific enough,” Guz says.

Even well-meaning doctors might unwittingly harm their patients. To a clinician, a patient who is worried that they should feel more sexual desire—and who does not know they are simply asexual—might initially look similar to patients who want sexual intimacy and could benefit from treatments aimed at increasing or restoring desire. Treatments for certain types of sexual dysfunction do help some people whose level of sexual desire leaves them distressed and unsatisfied, Brotto says. For some people, though, this distress may be coming not from an intrinsic desire to want sex but from external pressures such as partners or society as a whole. “I have worked with folks where it's taken us many, many months for the person to really understand how well asexuality fits with their identity,” as opposed to having an issue that is rooted in a health problem or a situational condition, Brotto says. Most doctors, though, don't know that such a distinction exists or is necessary, she adds.

I'm in a real autistic mood lately,,,

ARTISTIC ****

Last night I watched "Take Care of Maya" on Netflix, which is a story of a young girl who was taken from her parents by the hospital. They didn't know about CRPS and it's treatments, and they assumed she was being abused because she was on ketamine.

Here's the worst part, the mother was accused of Munchausens by proxy, and was told by the doctor that diagnosed Maya, that if Maya wasn't treated correctly she could die. So being the one that was accused of abusing Maya, she killed herself to get her daughter out of the hospital. Maya was imprisoned in a hospital for 3 months and even though her condition worsened she was told by doctors and nurses that she was faking her pain.

It is a difficult documentary to watch and is incredibly heart breaking, but it highlights the abuses doctors and nurses can commit because they don't understand the diagnosis and treatment needed. Maya's mother was a nurse and documented everything. She was direct and insistent, and someone got offended and proceeded to ruin her life to the point she took it. And this has happened before.

I'm thoroughly sickened but I'm glad I listened to Maya and her story.

Getting a horrible infection when Dr. Harper (especially yandere Dr. Harper) impulsively mixes their cum into the saline solution they’re using to give you a breast or dick augmentation

finished a painting in art class !!! happy Friday the 13th woo yeah

me when anything medical related

Entry Three: Date November 23rd 1898

Things have not been going as planned in the past several days. My attempts in finding more about the biological functions of vampires, and specifically Dracula have come to a stand still, due to Dracula healing far too quickly for any head way to be produced. Trying to keep the incision open with forceps does nothing for the flesh will just heal around it, and cause the forceps to get stuck forcing it to be cut out, not very productive for either myself or Dracula.

I find myself frustrated by it, as I go down in an attempt to conduct a dissection, only to be thwarted in any attempt by the ridiculous regenerative ability. I am attempting to understand it, for when Dracula was staked, his body did not react in the same way, and in fact, that particular wound is still in the process of healing. I suspect it will leave quite the nasty scar behind when fully healed.

Back to the problem I have with not being to dissect the specimen, I wonder if an oil made from garlic or using tools made of silver would work better than the steel tools I am currently working with, for it does seem to slow when cuts are made with such instruments, though a butter knife is hardly the right instrument to conduct any kind of surgery with. On another note, I am quite surprised to find that Dracula seems to be able to feel pain, for when I first used the butter knife on him in a fit of scientific frustration, he seemed to hiss in pain, and tried to twitch away from the source. He also has displayed similar behaviors when my forceps have gotten stuck in his flesh, and are subsequently ripped out, though it is a lessened reaction compared to the butter knife made of silver.

Not even medicinal malpractice can stop me from needing Dracula carnally.

A Doctor's Obituary || Dr. Destitute Bio

William Miller October 12th 1864 - March 4th, 1916 Cause of death - Grenade Explosion

William was born to a father who worked a sawmill, and a mother who would care for the children. By all accounts, his childhood was normal. Ever since childhood, he had a fascination with medicine. Begging his parents for any medical journals that they would find when they went into town.

He'd read them over and over, and over. When he finally finished with schooling, he'd go on to gain an apprenticeship. Studying under a doctor in the town his parents would always go to, until his mother fell ill when he was 19.

He would go home, and treat his mother. Hoping to find a cure, but there was little chance. Tuberculosis had long since set in, and William had to think quick. That was when he would take his first victim. He didn't think that hard about it, the knowledge he had was minuscule, but he had to try. He'd kill in the night, bringing the body to the sawmill and dismembering it.

He'd give his mother a transplant, one of his first. It worked, and she took to the new set of lungs. Though infection would set in, she would survive that too. With the crime quickly covered up, no one would even question where he'd gotten the organs from in the beginning. After all, the doctor had preformed a miracle.

He would set up a practice, in a city a few hours away. Always writing to his parents, to keep them informed, at least....On his legal practices. In the background, he'd have corpses piling. The poor would be killed in order for him to care for his richer patients. Slaughtered, and their organs harvested for the doctor to keep preforming his miracles.

He'd do experiments too, with a few unfortunate destitute individuals. Keeping them in his own homes basement, at least, until they'd pass from the torture. Then whatever was good, he'd recover from their bodies. It was around then when his sources came into question, but not by many. War was imminent.

Once it struck, the now 50 year old would join the war effort as a doctor. Serving the British forces until 1916, where he'd see a grenade hit the ground beside him only seconds before it blew.

He'd awaken in Hell, with two sets of arms. Representative of the parts he'd taken from others. He'd gain power, through his name, some knowing him from the living world, and he'd make deals. Draining the life force of some, to fuel others. Keeping them alive, through the deal made. Those desperate enough becoming the fuel, while the deals made with others drained them.

He'd get bigger, patching sinners up after executions. Though one day, he would be struck down. A dangerous newcomer walking into his practice and wounding the doctor so badly, he'd be assumed dead. Though the doctor would crawl out, and using his knowledge, he would stitch himself up.

Waiting in the shadows for months, or even years, before finally showing his face again. Ready to rise back to what he once was.

Kinda rant kinda not about the hospital: Basically I’ve been admitted for a few days with my heart and have basically been told hey cardio’s wanting to hold off on looking at you cause your in your 20s and your blood work is okay so even though you have a really high BPM and Blood pressure we’re putting you low on the list and will be low key keep hinting that it’s just anxiety and we won’t see you till we do certain tests but your on a waiting list for those tests which is just 🙄. So anyway I literally got my 24hr ECG on, walked to the bathroom, and they were calling like hey is she like coding and the nurse was like nope, I know it’s 139 but she’s been like this. So it feels good to get vindication but also I could have been showing you my smart watch if you came to say hi before now todays a low BPM day for me dudes.

MASSIVE CW: Vent, suicide mentioned, Drug and alcohol addiction, Caffiene addiction, Accidental Overdose, child abuse mentioned, mental health neglect, medical malpractice, mental hospitalization, police brutality, prison mentioned, AND THIS IS A VERY POLITICAL POST (FAR LEFTISM (I am a anarchocommunist)) PLEASE ASK ME TO ADD MORE CW IF NEEDED,

It really bothers me how I will never relate to or feel nostalgic to late 2000s to early 2010s post about elementary school.. I see picture of the inside of buses, school activities, and all of that, I can’t relate to any of it.. I didn’t go to elementary school and I only did 2 months of 7th grade and 1 week as a freshman and 1 fucking day as a sophomore, the rest of my schooling was at alternative schools that sucked and homeschooling which I can’t remember most of it cause at the time I was still actively being abused, I see my three youngest siblings and how they are still in school, how they got to learn and have friends, and I have none of that.. my two older siblings also have been to and completed high school, I have nothing.. I was too autistic and weird and mentally Ill to have done anything, I had been hospitalized twice and fucking spent my whole summer of 2018 (my last year in my home state) in a fucking residential program that said they were duel diagnosis BUT THEY ONLY FOCUSED ON THE KIDS THERE THAT HAD DRUG AND ALCHOL ADDICTIONS AND THEY COMPLETELY IGNORED MY CAFFEINE ADDICTION AND DOWNPLAYED IT SO MUCH THAT I GAVE UP ON QUITING they had FORCED me go to NA, MA, and AA meetings WHEN I DIDNT HAVE TO GO and they ignored my mental health, I LITERALLY HAVE BEEN STRUGGLING WITH SCHIZOAFFECTIVE DISORDER SINCE I WAS FUCKING 4 YEARS OLD AND IT TOOK 17 FUCKING YEARS TO GET A DIAGNOSIS CAUSE NO ONE WANTED TO DIAGNOSE A CHILD AND CAUSE OF THAT I WASNT ON ANTIPSYCHOTICS INTIL I WAS FUCKING 18!!!!! I WAS IN CONSTANT PSYCHOSIS AND I WAS PARANOID ALL THE FUCKING TIME AND I COULDNT DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT!! AND MY AUTISM AND ADHD WERE NEGLECTED CAUSE MY PARENT WERE TOO FOCUSED ON MY MENTAL ILLNESS AND MY TWO BROTHERS WHO WERE DIAGNOSED WITH AUTISM EARLY ON!!! I WAS DIAGNOSED AT 12 AND THEY DIDNT TELL ME INTIL I WAS 15!!!! I WAS CONSTANTLY DRINKING ENERGY DRINKS SO MANY IN A FUCKING DAY THAT I FUCKING OVERDOSED AND WAS UP FOR 3 WHOLE FUCKING DAYS AND MY MOM STILL DIDNT TAKE ME TO THE FUCKING HOSPITAL AND I WAS DOING ALL THAT TO SELF MEDICATE MY ADHD AND I DIDNT GET PUT ONTO STIMULENTS INTIL I WAS 18 AND THEN MY PSYCH TOOK ME OFF CAUSE I DIDNT DO WHAT SHE TOLD ME TO AND I SPENT MONTHS TRYING TO GET A NEW PSYCHIATRIST AND WHEN I DID SHE PUT ME BACK ON THEM WITH NO STIPULATIONS CAUSE ITS FUCKED UP TO DO THAT!!!!AND I MISSED THE LAST 4 APPOINTMENTS WITH HER CAUSE THEY ARE ONLINE ONLY APPOINTMENTS AND I HAVE MEMORY FUCKNG ISSUES CAUSE OF LONG FUCKING COVID SO NOW IVE RUN OUT OF MY FUCKING RITALIN AND I HAVE TO SELF MEDICATE WITH ENERGY DRINKS TO FUNCTION PROPERLY BUT I HAVE A FUCKING HEART CONDITION AND SO NOW MY HEART RATE IS HIGHER THAN AVERAGE (USUALLY ITS 100 AND NOW ITS BEEN AROUND 150) CAUSE I DONT HAVE PROPER STIMULENTS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

FUCK THE MENTAL AND MEDICAL HEALTH CARE SYSTEM IN THE FUCKING UNITED STATES OF FASCISM CAUSE NOW I HAVE FUCKED UP TEETH AND CAUSE I CANT GET THEM FUCKING FIXEX CAUSD I DONT HAVE FUCKING DENTAL INSURANCE CAUSE MY STATE INSURANCE DOSENT COVER DENTAL OR OPTICAL AND GUESS WHAT? BLINDNESS RUNS IN MY FAMILY AND MY VISION HAS BEEN SLOWLY DETERIORATING AND I JUST HAD TO PAY 80$ FUCKING DOLLARS TO SEE AN OPTRISTION AND I ONLY RECEIVED 628$ A MONTH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

FUCK THE SYSTEM FUCK CAPITALISM FUCK CHRISTOFASCISM FUCK THE GOVERNMENT FUCK COPS FUCK THE PRISON INDUSTRIAL COMPLEX FUCK THE MILITARY INDUSTRIAL COMPLEX FUCK IT ALL

I AM FULL OF SO MUCH FUCKING RAGE I SWEAR I COULD TAKE ON THE WHOLE POLICE FORCE HERE BUT I KNOW I CANT AND THAT IT JUST BE POLICE ASSISTED SUICIDE!!!!!!!

wild card! elias dnd character. i dont have any sfw drawings of him in my recent images ask john LMFAO

ELIAS - DND OC

themes of medical malpractice and overall evil for the sake of yaoi

cw for blood, themes of medical malpractice, medical imagery, blades

requested by anon 🖊 ! this is his oc AND his art everyone be nice

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