Not Netflix adding female rivalry to something which the main theme was girls being ride or die for each other
If there’s one thing I feel I can unambiguously brag about, it’s that I’m great with patients who are in pain crises. I’m tenacious and stubborn about lowering 10/10 pain to something more manageable. I got a patient in “25 out of 10” pain at start of shift down to a 4 by midnight and it only took opioids, Tylenol, muscle relaxants, ice packs, warm blankets, fresh coffee, repositioning, an abdominal binder I scrounged up, a phone call to the surgeon to get lidocaine patches ordered, and some serious chit chatting with the patient while we waited for all that to kick in. We didn’t end up needing IV medication, we didn’t have to increase opioids, we didn’t need to add any medication that would potentially delay discharge, and the majority of what I did is all stuff she can also do at home so it’s a sustainable pain management plan. This is my absolute favorite thing with nursing, I love love love managing pain, I know I talk about it a lot but it’s the most satisfying thing in the world. I love watching someone emerge from a horrendous haze of pain until they feel like a person again. Also I’m scheduling this to post well after my shift is done so that I don’t jinx anything, also while I was writing this post I had to take a quick break for two hours half way through because someone started having a seizure. My job is wild. I used to be a barista.
Okay, turns out I have more to say about the first Loki series episode already.
But first a preface/disclaimer: 1) I welcome all opinions if they’re stated respectfully / without any insulting of or jibing at others or other groups of fans (I mean it, any “some fans *rollyeyes*” will get you a swift block and Idgaf which side you’re on, I have no time for that bullshit) 2) I am a mere unintelligent trashcan of a person and also my native language isn’t English so excuse me if my thoughts here aren’t deep or intelligent enough or thought through. They are my own, though. 3) These thoughts will NOT be very organized. I apologize in advance.
Thoughts under the cut.
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what are some of your favourite quotes about growing up? also, orange is the best colour, undisputed.
Lorde, A NOTE FROM THE DESK OF A NEWBORN ADULT
Haruki Murakami, Norwegian Wood
Sandra Cisneros, Eleven
Kalyn Roseanne Livernois, High Wire Darlings
John Hughes, Ferris Bueller's Day Off
Storyboarding for Linked by Air
Mitch Welling, Gentle Earth
Anaïs Nin, The Diary of Anais Nin
J. Courtney Sullivan
Mark Z. Danielewski, House of Leaves
It’s crazy and fucked up that being yourself is actually the solution.
my last polaroid of 2020
Good Omens Parody will arrive with a very special delivery…🧺 Could it be more than just the Antichrist? All shall be revealed, May 10, on YouTube.com/Hillywood
I see a lot of dark academia aesthetic involving the classics fields, literature and languages and theater and music, but can the STEM kids get in on this too? Where’s my dark science aesthetic at? where’s my STEM gothic?
• It has to be a mistake, on the syllabus your professor e-mailed over yesterday. The lab class can’t possibly start at 8pm. Not that you’d notice the time of night anyway, considering that for some reason it’s held in a basement of the STEM buildings that you were sure was closed off. You’ve never seen anyone emerging from its depths, and honestly you’re not even sure how to get down there. But not to worry, your professor assures you when you reply with your concerns. He’ll send his TA to pick you up. Just try not to stare at their hand. Especially if it sparks. They’re still working out the kinks.
• The transparent lightboard you use in your apartment building for working out math equations that require more room is the only illumination piercing your otherwise dim living room. You’ve been working for hours, and haven’t noticed how late it’s become, mostly because you’re pretty sure that you accidentally just determined exactly when the world is going to end. Before you can grab your phone to tell everyone, there’s a knock at your door. “Well done,” the man and woman in dark clothes and glasses that reflect even the minor light so that you can’t see your eyes as they enter your apartment. “A little too well done, we think. You’ll be coming with us now.”
• H2 = H 2 0 [ Ωm(1+z) 3 +ΩDEexp {3 Z/z 0 dz 1+z [1+w(z)]}
• “We are doctors,” in heart if not yet in degree,” the neurologist teaching your afternoon class says, laughing. “We are the ones who stand between that looming reaper Death and all of our patients, scalpels and syringes in hand, and say “not today, old friend. Not this one.” But then the mirth fades from his voice, and his gaze drifts to the left of the lecture hall for some odd reason, fixed on some dark corner. “That’s why it hates us, you know. Death. All of us. We as doctors must be very, very careful in our everyday lives, because Death despises us for stalling its work time and time again, and it constantly has its eyes on us. Waiting for us to relax, to look away. There are rituals, as we get older and Death steps closer every day…” but then they come back to themselves, shaking their heads and laughing. “Not enough coffee for me today, apparently!” Shadows in the corner where no one sits seem to be shifting.
• The chemistry majors always seem to know something that no one else does. They all keep tiny glass bottles of clove oil in their backpacks at all times, for some reason. You’re starting to wonder if it wouldn’t be smart for you to do the same.
• The engineering majors know exactly what the chem majors think only they know, and they laugh when you mention the clove oil. “They really think that will protect them,” one future robotics pioneer says to you, shaking his head. “They really think they can stop what’s coming.”
• Something in the forensics lab whispers at night, but only when a lone student is working down there alone. One of them snags you in the halls one morning and says, “I know you’re not forensics and you’ve never heard it before, but last night I was working on a paper down there and, well. It knows your name.”
• Your roommate is a biogenetics student. She keeps beakers brimming with bubbling fluids in the fridge, and she often seems restless and distracted. You’ve caught her stealing hair off of your brush before, and one night as you watch her mixing and stirring and taking notes as she’s hunched over her desk, you realize that a single blinking eyeball is staring back at you from the green fluid surrounding it in her glass tube.
• The mathematics students have figured out what the chemistry students know, and what the engineering students have known for years. They all look anxious now, walking around campus and constantly looking over their shoulders. One of them suggests to you that maybe you should start stockpiling bottled water. Just in case.
• An astronomy major comes barreling into one of your classes one dim and dying afternoon, slapping a star chart down onto a desk in front of a newly enlightened mathematics student, sweating and furious. “You weren’t even going to tell us, you bastard?! You were just going to let it happen while we sat around unprepared?!”
• A week later. You sit up in bed and your roommate is gone. Their things are gone. Campus is still and quiet, the chem and engineering and astronomy and mathematics students having all cleared out save for you. The bio, forensics, and med students are left blinking, dazed. Clearly you’ve all missed something important, but your roommate responds to your text with assurance that it’s fine. You’ll all know soon enough.