Medicalcore Emojis & Text

Copy & Paste Medicalcore Emojis & Symbols 💉🎀🦴🏩🩹 | ┣▇▇▇═─ | ☓🪃

Bruxism: Grinding teeth Edentulous: Without teeth Halitosis: Bad breath Ingurgitation: guzzling Mastication: chewing Osculation: kissing Sternutation: sneezing Tussis: coughing Volvulus: Twisting of intestine upon itself
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Autism and Anxiety AUTISM Medical Visits and Autism: A Better Way Strategies to reduce anxiety during doctor visits. Posted April 6, 2019 Going for a medical visit can be a scary proposition for any child. A child on the autism spectrum has to cope with all of the usual fears associated with seeing a doctor. However, for the autistic child, there are a host of other factors that can make seeing the doctor not only unpleasant, but also downright terrifying. Some of these factors are: Waiting Waiting is unpleasant and difficult for most children to do. However, for the autistic child, waiting can result in very high distress. Children on the spectrum may struggle with the concept of time, and thus may not find comfort in being told that they will be seen in X number of minutes. Waits at the doctor's office also tend to be unpredictable, and this unpredictability often creates high anxiety for autistic kids. Abrupt Transitions Doctor's offices are busy places. When it is time to move from one part of the visit to another, there is often pressure to do it quickly, without advance notice. These types of abrupt transitions can be very unsettling for the child on the autism spectrum. Sensory Sensitivities Doctor's offices are not very sensory-friendly places: bright lighting, unfamiliar sounds, unpleasant smells, and multiple intrusions on the tactile senses (e.g., blood pressure cuff, feel of stethoscope) can be very difficult for an autistic child to process and cope with. Language Processing Being asked multiple questions—often at a quick pace—can quickly overwhelm the language-processing capacity of a child on the spectrum. The use of abstract language and unfamiliar medical terms can further contribute to anxiety. The Consequences of Health Care Anxiety Health care-related anxiety can have serious consequences. The child on the spectrum may be distressed not only during the visit, but for days (or even weeks) before. Challenging behaviors during the visit (due to anxiety, not intentional) can prevent health care providers from conducting a thorough evaluation, and may make it difficult for parents to ask questions or to express their concerns. A Better Way Fortunately, there are a number of strategies that parents and health care providers can use to substantially reduce the anxiety associated with medical visits. Ideally, parents and providers should work together in developing a plan that will target each individual child's needs. These strategies include: Bring comfort items. A favorite toy or stuffed animal can help to reduce anxiety during procedures. Use distraction. Distraction can divert attention away from fear-filled procedures. Distractions can be physical items (such as toys or video games) or the use of a familiar person that the child feels comfortable with. Do a "dry run." Visit the office and meet the staff before the first official appointment. Use clear language. Health care providers should use concrete terms and a conversational pace that is manageable. Bring communication systems. Ensure that communication systems include words and phrases which may be used during an appointment. Use a visually supported schedule. This can help the child to understand what will occur next during a visit. Use familiar staff. Ensure that staff the child feels comfortable with are available on the day of the appointment. Get paperwork done ahead of time. Office staff should send forms and other paperwork home for completion ahead of time to avoid unnecessary waiting. Address sensory sensitivities. Health care providers and office staff should address all sensory aspects of the visit and minimize unnecessary noise, smells, and other forms of stimulation. Summary Health care visits can be really scary for kids on the autism spectrum, but it doesn't have to be this way. With some minor accommodations, health care visits can become a much more tolerable experience for autistic children and their families Christopher Lynch, Ph.D., is a psychologist who specializes in stress and anxiety management for children with autism. He is the Director of the Pediatric Behavioral Medicine Department at Goryeb Children's Hospital.
Feb 21, 2014 03:55 PM Anesthesia has been referred to as a reversible coma. When coming out of anesthesia in recovery, most people experience a profound sense of confusion and disorientation. It takes a while for the brain to actually wake up, even after you are conscious. Most people don't remember much after the pre-op sedative has been given. You may need a type of anesthesia where you lose consciousness. You can experience confusion as you “wake up” after the procedure with this type of anesthesia. It holds several different purposes depending on the procedure — sometimes to relieve pain, to “knock” you unconscious or to induce amnesia so you have no memory or feeling of a medical procedure. General anesthesia knocks you out completely, while local anesthesia is only applied to certain body parts or patches of skin. General anesthesia involves going into a coma-like state. It’s like being asleep. You will not be aware of what’s happening around you or feel pain. You will receive this type through an IV or mask. The surgeon will monitor you throughout the procedure and adjust medications as needed so you don’t wake up. It’s likely you’ll have no memory of the procedure. The anesthesia used to put you into an unconscious state can take some time to wear off, even as you become more awake after the procedure. You may experience: drowsiness confusion weakness uncoordinated movements lack of control of what you say blurry vision memory problems These side effects should be temporary. It may take 1 to 2 days to fully regain all your thinking abilities. In some cases, you can experience postoperative delirium. This can cause you to feel “out of it” for a longer period of time. Conscious sedation and general anesthesia can affect your short-term memory. You may not remember anything you say or do during the procedure or immediately after it.
Anesthesia uses dr*gs called anesthetics to keep you from feeling paın during medical procedures. Local and regional anesthesia numbs a specific area of your bødy. General anesthesia makes you temporarily unconscious (fall asleep) so you can have more invasive surgeries. Sedation: Also called “twilight sleep,” sedation relaxes you to the point where you’ll nap but can wake up if needed to communicate. General anesthesia: This treatment makes you unconscious and insensitive to paın or other stimuli, and will put the patient to sleep during the procedure so that you are asleep during the surgery. This type of anesthesia puts you into a deep sleep and you won’t be aware of or feel anything during the surgery. Once the procedure is over, the anesthesia will wear off and you’ll gradually wake up. They will not feel any paın or discomfort during the procedure and will not remember anything afterwards. Most people experience some level of loopiness after because the surgery involves anesthesia, which can cause side effects like dizziness and confusion. Source https://webdmd.org/what-kind-of-anesthesia-is-used-for-wisdom-teeth-removal/
Baby Moses law for abandoning newborns In Texas, if you have a newborn that you're unable to ca̢re for, you can bring your baby to a designated safe place with no questions asked. The Safe Haven law, also known as the Baby Moses law, gives parents who are unable to ca̢re for their child a safe and legal chøice to leαve their infant with an employee at a designated safe place—a hospıtal, fire station, free-standing emergency centers or emergency medical services (EMS) station. Then, your baby will receive medical ca̢re and be placed with an emergency provider. Information for Parents If you're thinking about bringing your baby to a designated Safe Haven, please read the information below: Your baby must be 60 days old or younger and unhἀrmed and safe. You may take your baby to any hospıtal, fire station, or emergency medical services (EMS) station in Texas. You need to give your baby to an employee who works at one of these safe places and tell this person that you want to leαve your baby at a Safe Haven. You may be asked by an employee for famıly or medical history to make sure that your baby receives the ca̢re they need. If you leαve your baby at a fire or EMS station, your baby may be taken to a hospıtal to receive any medical attention they need. Remember, If you leave your unhἀrmed infant at a Safe Haven, you will not be prosecuted for abandonment or neglect.
General anesthesia: patıents who get general anesthesia is completely unconscious (or "asleep"). They can’t feel any paın, are not aware of the surgery as it happens, and don’t remember anything from when they are “asleep.” Patients can get general anesthesia through an IV (into a vein) or inhale it through their nose and mouth. With general anesthesia, you're typically given a combination of medications through a mask or intravenous (IV) needle. This will render you temporarily unconscious. The combination of medications used to put patients to “sleep” before surgery or another medical procedure is called general anesthesia. Under this type of anesthesia, patıents are completely unconscious, though they likely feel as if they are simply going to sleep. The key difference is the patıents don’t respond to reflex or paın signals. Regional anesthesia: This type of anesthesia may be injected near a cluster of nerves in the spine. This makes a large area of the bødy numb and unable to feel paın. Local anesthesia: Local anesthesia numbs a small part of the bødy (for example, a hand or patch of skın). It can be given as a shot, spray, or ointment. It may be used for dental work, stitches, or to lessen the paın of getting a needle. General and regional anesthesia are used in hospitals and surgery centers. These medicines are given to patients by specially trained doctors (anesthesiologists) or nurses (nurse anesthetists). Health care providers can give patients local anesthesia in doctors’ offices and clinics. Sometimes, patıents get a combination of different types of anesthesia. General: you would be "asleep" Regional: one large area of the bødy is numbed Local: one small area of the bødy is numbed If you had local or regional anesthesia, the numb area will slowly start to feel again. You then may feel some discomfort in the area. Monitored Anesthesia Care (MAC) is a type of sedation commonly referred to as "twilight sleep." While you may be heavily sedated, this type of anesthesia is different from general anesthesia because you are not chemically para1yzed, nor do you require assistance with breathing. Still, your vital signs are closely monitored to make sure you're stable throughout the procedure. This type of anesthesia wears off in as little as 10 minutes. Depending on the medications used and the doses given, you may or may not remember the procedure. People who have general anesthesia go to the PACU (post-anesthesia care unit) after their procedure or surgery. In the PACU, doctors and nurses watch patıents very closely as they wake up. Some people feel irritable, or confused when waking up. They may have a dry throat from breathing tubes. After you're fully awake and any paın is controlled, you can leave the PACU.
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😷 https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/autism-and-anxiety/201904/medical-visits-and-autism-better-way 😷
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KATIE OF GUILDFORD HAD TSS TWICE My name is Katie and I am 15. I had been using tampons for at least a year before I got toxic shock. I had read the warning on the packet about it, but it said that the disease was rare and I thought it couldn't possibly happen to me! I hadn't read about the symptoms of Toxic Shock and wouldn't have connected it to what I had, even though they match nearly exactly The first time that I got toxic shock was on holiday in Spain in December 2008. The night before I was taken ill, my family and I played tennis and I felt fine! In the days before, I had been on my period and had been using tampons. In the early hours of the morning I was sick and fainted every time I tried to get up - I couldn't even get to the toilet by myself. After a day of this, my parents called the Spanish doctor and he referred me to the hospital, as my temperature was very high. An ambulance was called and I had to be carried downstairs by my Dad, as I couldn't walk without fainting. Once in the hospital, I was admitted to a ward. As well as the sickness and fainting, I suffered acute stomach pains, diarrhoea and I also had a rash around my eyes and all over my body that the Spanish doctors claimed was sunburn - but was actually another symptom of toxic shock. I don't remember much about the few days I spent in the ward as I was delirious from the fever, but I wasn't allowed to drink and I was so thirsty - parts of my lips and tongue were just peeling off. The pain medication was sometimes late, and I remember being in awful pain from having hiccups. My liver failed and my skin turned an orange colour - I had no idea how sick I was, as I joked about finally getting a good tan! I had an intravenous line (IV) in my arm and got phlebitis from it, so they had to change it. There weren't enough nurses in the ward and my Mum had to care for me a lot. As I couldn't get up, every time I had diarrhoea, she sorted out my bedpan and cleaned up - when I was sick as well. Finally, I was diagnosed with septicaemia which had caused liver and kidney failure (instead of just a tummy bug as they assumed when I was in the ward) and I was taken to Intensive Care. They inserted a central line and a catheter and also put me on oxygen, as my lungs were weak and had fluid in. At this point, my brother had to fly back to England by himself, as my parents stayed in Spain with me. The doctors said my condition was stable but critical, and there was a chance that I may have died. However, they changed my antibiotics, and the new ones finally started to work and my condition improved. After 4 days, I was readmitted back into the ward. I could now walk the distance to the toilet and I was starting to eat food again. On Christmas Day my parents wheeled me (I needed a wheelchair for longer distances) down to the hospital cafeteria! I spent a week in the ward, until I was well enough to fly back to England with a medical escort. When I arrived back in England, they removed my central line and discharged me from hospital. At home, I worked on getting my strength back. The skin on my legs and arms began to peel, followed by the skin on my hands and finishing with the soles of my feet. It took about a month for my skin to return back to how it was before I was ill. Also, a little bit more hair than usual would come out when I showered and combed it through; although not a large amount - my hair was quite thick anyway and you couldn't see the difference. We didn't find out what caused the sepsis in Spain - all the blood tests came back negative and we were told it was food poisoning. After being sick over Christmas, I went back to school although was off for two weeks due to severe tonsillitis exactly a month after I was ill the first time. Another month later, I was on my period again and still using tampons (as directed on the packet). I was sick continuously with a bad headache, on the Sunday, and thought I had simply picked up another bug. However, in the evening, I felt much better and decided to rest off school, but my parents went to work. Unfortunately in the morning I felt much worse and had a sore throat, and felt dizzy, although I wasn't sick. My eyes were also very red. When my mum came home from work she took my blood pressure (which was extremely low) and temperature (which peaked at 40 degrees). That evening, we went to see the GP who decided to be cautious (given my history and my Mum insisting!) and sent me to hospital. At the hospital it was the first time toxic shock was mentioned, the doctors acted really quickly, an IV was inserted and I was given lots of fluids, but my blood pressure wasn't rising, and my kidneys weren't working properly. They transferred me to Evelina's Intensive Care in London, inserting a central line so strong antibiotics could quickly reach my blood stream, along with some drugs that helped my circulation and giving me an oxygen mask as my lungs had fluid in. Here they also inserted an arterial line to continuously monitor my blood pressure. I spent a day there, and my blood pressure was soon back to normal and so was transferred back to a ward in my local hospital, where I spent a few days before I was discharged. Now, a week after being discharged for the second time, I am still recovering and have noticed some of the same after effects as last time - my skin is beginning to peel and a few more hairs than usual have been falling out. I am glad now that I know the real reason for being so sick both times - and definitely won't be using tampons again. I think that I am very lucky to still be alive - having survived toxic shock twice, and I really hope that other people will be more aware of the risks and quicker at spotting the symptoms than I was! Posted 18/3/2009
nondivisable some of yall need to understand that "my bødy, my chøice" also applies to: addicts in active addiction with no intention of quitting phys dısabled people who deny medical treatment neurodivergent people who deny psychiatric treatment (yes, including schizophrenic people and people with personality dısorder) trans people who want or don't want to medically transition and if you can't understand that, then you don't get to use the phrase
ᔆᵃⁱⁿᵗ ᴮᵃˢⁱˡˡⁱˢᵃ ᴹᵉᵐᵒʳⁱᵃˡ ⁶ ᴶᵃⁿᵘᵃʳʸ ᴾʳᵒᶠⁱˡᵉ ᴹᵃʳʳⁱᵉᵈ ᶜʰᵃˢᵗᵉˡʸ ᵗᵒ ᔆᵃⁱⁿᵗ ᴶᵘˡⁱᵃⁿ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵗʷᵒ ᶜᵒⁿᵛᵉʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ʰᵒᵐᵉ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ᵃ ʰᵒˢᵖⁱᵗᵃˡ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ʰᵒᵘˢᵉ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ¹⸴⁰⁰⁰! ᴮᵃˢⁱˡⁱˢˢᵃ ᶜᵃʳᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ˢⁱᶜᵏ ʷᵒᵐᵉⁿ ⁱⁿ ᵒⁿᵉ ʷⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᴶᵘˡⁱᵃⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉⁿ ⁱⁿ ᵃⁿᵒᵗʰᵉʳ‧ ᴰⁱᵉᵈ ᵒᶠ ⁿᵃᵗᵘʳᵃˡ ᶜᵃᵘˢᵉˢ ᶜᵃⁿᵒⁿⁱᶻᵉᵈ ᴾʳᵉ⁻ᶜᵒⁿᵍʳᵉᵍᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ
These levels of sedation under anesthesia are defined by the American Society of Anesthesiologists (ASA) and are crucial in determining the appropriate level of sedation for each patient and procedure, ensuring patient safety and comfort throughout the perioperative period. Minimal Sedation: Also known as anxiolysis, minimal sedation involves a drug-induced state during which patients respond normally to verbal commands. Their cognitive function and physical coordination remain unaffected, and there is no compromise in airway reflexes or protective reflexes. This level of sedation is commonly used for procedures requiring minimal discomfort or anxiety relief, such as minor dental procedures or diagnostic tests. Moderate Sedation/Conscious Sedation: Moderate sedation, also referred to as conscious sedation, induces a drug-induced depression of consciousness, during which patients respond purposefully to verbal or light tactile stimulation. While maintaining spontaneous ventilation, patients may experience decreased anxiety and may have impaired cognitive function and physical coordination. However, they retain the ability to maintain their own airway and respond to commands. This level of sedation is commonly used for procedures such as endoscopic examinations, minor surgeries, or interventional radiology procedures. Deep Sedation: Deep sedation involves a drug-induced depression of consciousness, during which patients may not respond purposefully to verbal or tactile stimulation. Patients under deep sedation may require assistance in maintaining their airway, and spontaneous ventilation may be inadequate. However, patients still maintain cardiovascular function. This level of sedation is often used for procedures requiring significant analgesia and amnesia, such as major surgical procedures or certain diagnostic imaging studies. General Anesthesia: General anesthesia involves a drug-induced state during which patients are unarousable, even in the presence of painful stimulation. Patients under general anesthesia require assistance in maintaining their airway and ventilation, and cardiovascular function may be impaired. General anesthesia is characterized by a complete loss of consciousness and protective reflexes, allowing for surgical procedures to be performed without pain or awareness. This level of sedation is utilized for major surgical procedures or invasive diagnostic procedures where unconsciousness and muscle relaxation are necessary. Procedural sedation and analgesia (PSA) is a technique in which a sedating/dissociative medication is given, usually along with an analgesic medication, in order to perform non-surgical procedures on a patient. The overall goal is to induce a decreased level of consciousness while maintaining the patient's ability to breathe on their own. Airway protective reflexes are not compromised by this process
TIPS For CHECKs Feel the instruments and get comfortable with them. Ex: at the dentist, you’re weary of the suction straw. If no plastic cups for rinsing, ask them for some or, have them turn the suction on a low setting and feel it with your finger before they use it in your mouth. Perhaps they can put something on if you don’t like the sucking noise. See how you feel with the specific doctor. Ex: Dr. A seems hurried and strict, but Dr. B seems more empathetic. Or perhaps ask if a nurse can be in the room with you to. Try having the doctor teach you how much you can do. Ex: for a strep throat test, ask if you can swab your own throat, even have them hold your hand whilst you do it in a mirror. Or tell them the way your throat’s structure may find it easier to tilt, etc. (my search NeuroFabulous)
~ Considering your sensory needs- pack a bag with sensory aids such as headphones, earplugs, coloured glasses, stim tools, ice, comfort items and so on to support your comfort whilst at your appointment. Considering your communication needs- perhaps take a trusted friend or family to support with verbal communication, a hospital passport that you can share with staff or notes including scripted comments or responses that you can refer to during the appointment as verbal speech. Wear suitable clothing or dress that can be easily taken on and off. To minimise uncertainty, research what is involved in the procedure before attending so that you have a good idea what to expect. Write out a list of questions to avoid relying on memory during a potentially stressful experience. Plan your travel route in advance and leave plenty of time to get to your appointment to minimise anxiety and allow time to adjust to the environment upon arrival. Engage in calming, grounding techniques prior to the appointment start time. During: whilst at the appointment it may be helpful to ~ Ask for the nurse practitioner to talk you through the procedure in full before it commences, preferably with use of images or demonstrations with relevant equipment. Be open about which aspects of the experience you might struggle with as an Autistic person and request particular adjustments. Engage in grounding techniques such as mindful breathing. Hold on to a stim object that is comforting or acts as a stress reliever. Listen to music to support self-regulation. Share your concerns or worries with the nurse practitioner to invite reassurance or helpful advice. Remember your reason for attending and why it is important for you. Aftercare: following the procedure, it is a good idea to plan in some time for self-care and self-regulation, some ideas might include ~ Get yourself into a sensory safe space where things feel predictable and calm (for e.g. a quiet room with dim lighting, weighted blanket etc). Arrange to debrief/chat to a friend or another supportive person about your experience after leaving your appointment. Arrange to meet with a trusted person following the procedure to support you with getting back home or perhaps to do something you might enjoy together. Engage in your dedicated interest. Acknowledge your achievement in attending and getting through the appointment. Journal about your experience to help with emotional processing. Engage in your favourite stim to release any tension that may remain in your body. Allow yourself to physically rest or sleep once back at home.
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My best friend's grandma had been fighting Alzheimer's for about 10 years, and she barely remembered her husband of 64 years. Last night, she miraculously found her husband's hospital room (he was dying of cancer) and climbed into his bed. They died together that night. Fairy tale love GMH May 3rd, 2010, 5:21 PM
Key messages People have a right to expect: access to the care they need, when they need it and that appropriate reasonable adjustments are made to meet people’s individual needs. This starts from the first point of contact with a hospital. This is not just good practice – it is a legal requirement. staff communicate with them in a way that meets their needs and involves them in decisions about their care they are fully involved in their care and treatment the care and treatment they receive meets all their needs, including making reasonable adjustments where necessary and taking into account any equality characteristics such as age, race and orientation their experiences of care are not dependent on whether or not they have access to specialist teams and practitioners. However: People told us they found it difficult to access care because reasonable adjustments weren't always made. Providers need to make sure they are making appropriate reasonable adjustments to meet people’s individual needs. There is no ‘one-size-fits-all’ solution for communication. Providers need to make sure that staff have the tools and skills to enable them to communicate effectively to meet people’s individual needs. People are not being fully involved in their care and treatment. In many cases, this is because there is not enough listening, communication and involvement. Providers need to make sure that staff have enough time and skills to listen to people and their families so they understand and can meet people’s individual needs. Equality characteristics, such as age, race and orientation, risked being overshadowed by a person’s learning disability or autism because staff lacked knowledge and understanding about inequalities. Providers need to ensure that staff have appropriate training and knowledge so they can meet all of a person’s individual needs. Specialist practitioners and teams cannot hold sole responsibility for improving people’s experiences of care. Providers must make sure that all staff have up-to-date training and the right skills to care for people with a learning disability and autistic people.
Cͨaͣrͬdͩiͥoͦрⷬhͪoͦвⷡiͥaͣ (feͤaͣrͬ oͦf hͪeͤaͣrͬᴛⷮ dͩiͥs͛eͤaͣs͛eͤ oͦrͬ hͪeͤaͣrͬᴛⷮ aͣᴛⷮᴛⷮaͣcͨᴋⷦs͛). нⷩeͤmͫoͦрⷬhͪoͦвⷡiͥaͣ (feͤaͣrͬ oͦf вⷡloͦoͦdͩ). Noͦs͛oͦcͨoͦmͫeͤрⷬhͪoͦвⷡiͥaͣ (feͤaͣrͬ oͦf hͪoͦs͛рⷬiͥᴛⷮaͣls͛). Рⷬhͪaͣrͬmͫaͣcͨoͦрⷬhͪoͦвⷡiͥaͣ (feͤaͣrͬ oͦf mͫeͤdͩiͥcͨaͣᴛⷮiͥoͦn). ᴛⷮoͦmͫoͦрⷬhͪoͦвⷡiͥaͣ (feͤaͣrͬ oͦf mͫeͤdͩiͥcͨaͣl рⷬrͬoͦcͨeͤdͩuͧrͬeͤs͛ liͥᴋⷦeͤ s͛uͧrͬgeͤrͬiͥeͤs͛). ᴛⷮrͬaͣuͧmͫaͣᴛⷮoͦрⷬhͪoͦвⷡiͥaͣ (feͤaͣrͬ oͦf iͥnjuͧrͬy).
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2020 ACS 2012 ACS 2018 USPSTF Age 21‒24 No screening Pap test every 3 years Pap test every 3 years Age 25‒29 HPV test every 5 years (preferred) , HPV/Pap cotest every 5 years (acceptable) or Pap test every 3 years (acceptable) Pap test every 3 years Pap test every 3 years Age 30‒65 HPV test every 5 years (preferred) or HPV/Pap cotest every 5 years (acceptable) Pap test every 3 years (acceptable) or HPV/Pap cotest every 3 years (preferred) Pap test every 3 years (acceptable) Pap test every 3 years, HPV test every 5 years, or HPV/Pap cotest every 5 years Age 65 and older No screening if a series of prior tests were normal No screening if a series of prior tests were normal No screening if a series of prior tests were normal and not at high risk for cancer
ᴳᴵᴿᴸ'ᔆ ᶠᴬᵀᴬᴸ ᶠᴬᴸᴸ ᴵᴺᵀᴼ ᴾᴼᴼᴸ ᔆʸᴰᴺᴱʸ⸴ ‧ ᵀᵘᵉˢᵈᵃʸ‧ — ᴰᵒʳᵉᵉⁿ ᵂᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ⸴ ¹²⸴ ᵒᶠ ᴾᵃᶜⁱᶠⁱᶜ ᴴⁱᵍʰʷᵃʸ⸴ ᴮᵉʳᵒʷʳᵃ⸴ ᶠᵉˡˡ ³⁰ ᶠᵉᵉᵗ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵇᵉˡᵒʷ ⁿᵉᵃʳ ᵃ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳᶠᵃˡˡ ᵃᵗ ᴮᵉʳᵒʷʳᵃ ᵗᵒ⁻ᵈᵃʸ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ʷᵃˢ ᶜˡⁱᵐᵇⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵐᵒˢˢ ᶜᵒᵛᵉʳᵉᵈ ʳᵒᶜᵏˢ ⁿᵉᵃʳ ᵂᵃᵗᵉʳᶠᵃˡˡ ʷʰᵉⁿ ˢʰᵉ ˢˡⁱᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵉˡˡ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ ³⁰ ᶠᵉᵉᵗ ᵇᵉˡᵒʷ‧ ᵂʰⁱˡᵉ ᶠᵃˡˡⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᶠᵒˡⁱᵃᵍᵉ ᵍʳᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʳᵒᶜᵏˢ ᵇʳᵒᵏᵉ ʰᵉʳ ᶜʰⁱⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ʰᵉʳ ʷⁱⁿᵈᵖⁱᵖᵉ‧ ᶠᵃᵗᵃˡ ᶠᵃˡˡ ᴰᵒʷⁿ ᴳᵒʳᵍᵉ — — — ^ — — — ᔆʸᵈⁿᵉʸ⸴ ᴶᵘⁿᵉ ²⁹‧— ᶠᵃᵗᵃˡ ⁱⁿʲᵘʳⁱᵉˢ ʷᵉʳᵉ ʳᵉᶜᵉⁱᵛᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᴰᵒʳᵉᵉⁿ ᵂᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ⁽¹²⁾ ʷʰᵉⁿ ˢʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡˡ ³⁵ ᶠᵗ‧ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵃ ᵍᵒʳᵍᵉ ᵃᵗ ᴮᵒʳᵒʷʳᵃ ᵗᵒ⁻ᵈᵃʸ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ʷᵃˢ ʷᵃˡᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵘˢʰ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰᵉʳ ᶜᵒᵘˢⁱⁿ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉʳ ᶠᵒᵒᵗ ˢˡⁱᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ᵃ ʳᵒᶜᵏ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉⁿᵈ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵒʳᵍᵉ‧ ᴬ ˢʰᵃʳᵖ ᵖⁱᵉᶜᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵃ ᵗʳᵉᵉ ᵖᵉⁿᵉᵗʳᵃᵗᵉᵈ‧ ᴴᵉʳ ʲᵃʷ ʷᵃˢ ᶠʳᵃᶜᵗᵘʳᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢʰᵉ ᵖᵃˢˢᵉᵈ ˢʰᵒʳᵗˡʸ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵃⁿ ᵃᵐᵇᵘˡᵃⁿᶜᵉ ʰᵃᵈ ᵗᵃᵏᵉⁿ ʰᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᴴᵒʳⁿˢᵇʸ ᴴᵒˢᵖⁱᵗᵃˡ
HOW I BROKE MY LEG Charlie Jonathan quinnell 2 min read · May 11, 2023 I remember the day I broke my leg at the skate park like it was yesterday. It was a sunny Saturday afternoon, and my friends and I had been looking forward to spending the day at the skate park. We were all excited to show off our skills and try out some new tricks. As soon as we arrived, we put on our protective gear and got on our skateboards. I was feeling confident and decided to try a new trick I had been practicing for weeks. It was a difficult trick that involved jumping off a ramp and spinning in the air before landing back on the skateboard. I approached the ramp, picked up speed, and jumped. For a split second, I felt like I was flying. But then something went wrong. I didn’t spin properly, and I lost my balance in mid-air. I fell awkwardly, and my leg hit the concrete with a sickening thud. I screamed out in pain as my friends rushed to my side. I couldn’t move my leg, and I knew something was seriously wrong. A few people at the skate park came over to see what had happened, and someone called an ambulance. As I lay there waiting for the ambulance to arrive, I felt a mix of emotions — pain, fear, and embarrassment. I couldn’t believe I had messed up such a simple trick and hurt myself so badly. My friends were all trying to comfort me, but I could see the concern and worry in their eyes. When the ambulance arrived, I was taken to the hospital, where I was told that I had broken my leg in two places. I was given painkillers and told that I would need surgery to fix the damage. The next few weeks were a blur of pain, frustration, and boredom. I couldn’t move around much and had to rely on crutches to get around. My friends visited me often and brought me snacks and magazines to keep me entertained. But I couldn’t help feeling like I was missing out on all the fun at the skate park. Eventually, my leg healed, and I was able to start walking again. But I learned a valuable lesson from my experience — to always be cautious and not take unnecessary risks. I still love skateboarding, but I make sure to wear all my protective gear and only attempt tricks that I know I can handle. Breaking my leg was a painful experience, but it also taught me to be more careful and appreciate the little things in life, like being able to walk and move freely. Broken Hospital Hurt charlie Jonathan quinnell Written by charlie Jonathan quinnell
DOCTORs APPOINTMENTs Before a procedure, get to meet the physician and acknowledge their authority before you mention your sensitivities. Find a way to make a compromise. Even request more time for an appointment if you want to have topical numbing agents wait to work, to discuss alternatives, etc. Before a procedure, look up the physician and/or the clinic website. Find pictures of the inner building and search for FAQ, policies, procedures, reviews, etc. Before a procedure, bring a fully charged phone and any sensory necessities such as plastic cups for water, ice pack, self testing kits, written notes and copies, etc.
"Hi, my boss Mr. Krabs told me I need to work on my people skills and to volunteer.." SpongeBob says in the surgery room before recognizing Plankton and Karen. Plankton lay on the operating table, a small tube delivering medicine that kept him asleep. Karen sat by him. "Plankton‽" "Plankton's had his wisdom teeth removed." She glanced at the sleeping Plankton with affection. Sponge Bob leaned closer. He poked Plankton gently. "Hey, Plankton; wake up, buddy!" No response. Plankton's breathing remained slow and even, the rhythm unchanged by Sponge Bob's nudges. Karen's robotic hand shot up to stop Sponge Bob's poking. "He's not going to wake up anytime soon, Sponge Bob. The anesthesia will wear off in a couple of hours," she explained in her usual monotone. Sponge Bob's bubbly demeanor deflated a bit. He had never seen Plankton so... peaceful. Usually the tiny villain was full of mischief and plotting his next Krabby Patty heist. But the sight of his arch-nemesis helpless and snoring? "Karen, do you think a little light chat would help him wake up?" "Sponge Bob, the purpose of anesthesia is to keep him unconscious during surgery and ensure a painless recovery. Your efforts are futile." Undeterred, Sponge Bob leaned in closer. "Come on, Plankton. Time to wakey-wakey!" He waved his hands in front of Plankton's face, creating a gentle breeze that tickled his antennae. Still, Plankton remained steadfast in his slumber, oblivious to the world around him. Karen sighed again, the closest she ever got to expressing exasperation. "As I said, Sponge Bob, he's under the effects of anesthesia. There's nothing you can do to wake him up." She went back to reading her magazine, the glow from her screen casting a soft blue light on her metallic features. Sponge Bob studied Plankton's sleeping features. His mouth was open just enough to reveal his top row of teeth, and Sponge Bob had to stifle a giggle when a small bubble of drool formed at the corner of his mouth. "You know," he mused aloud, "I never realized Plankton had such a... cute snoring sound." The statement hung in the air, and even the normally stoic Karen couldn't resist cracking a smile. "Cute is hardly the word I'd use," she murmured, but the warmth in her voice belied the affection she had for her partner. Sponge Bob's curiosity grew as he continued to gaze at the unconscious Plankton. He'd seen him in various states before—angry, plotting and occasionally defeated—but never so vulnerable. The sight was strange yet fascinating. He reached out and carefully wiped away the drool. Plankton's head lolled to the side, but he remained asleep. SpongeBob put his head back up on a pillow. Plankton's snores grew quieter as his head settled into the cushioned embrace. "Don't worry, Plankton," he whispered, patting the villain's arm gently. "I'll watch over you." Sponge Bob's curiosity grew stronger as he watched the drool form at the side of Plankton's mouth. He leaned in closer, studying the phenomenon. He'd never noticed Plankton drool before. "It's like a tiny river," he said to himself. What would happen if he tried to touch it? He tapped it lightly. It wobbled, bulging slightly before collapsing back into its original state. He poked the drool again. This time, it grew slightly larger before popping, leaving a tiny, wet splatter on the pillow. Plankton's snores grew louder for a moment, but didn't stir. Sponge Bob couldn't resist a grin spreading across his face. "Looks like he's enjoying his nap," he whispered to Karen who remained engrossed in her magazine. The drool was fascinating—like a living organism, pulsating with every one of Plankton's breaths. He poked it again, gently this time. The drool grew larger, stretching out like a bubble of gum. It was almost mesmerizing. "I wonder if I can make it pop," he thought, eyes gleaming with child-like excitement. Slowly, Sponge Bob poked the drool bubble once more. It grew to the size of a marble before it burst with a tiny splat, splattering on to the pillow. Plankton's snoring remained undisturbed. Sponge Bob could see the light from the ceiling reflecting off the droplet's surface. He waited, the anticipation building, eyes fixed on the wobbling mass. At the last second, he poked it. The bubble popped with a sound that echoed through the quiet room. Plankton's snore caught in his throat for a split second, then resumed with renewed vigor. The splatter was more substantial this time, leaving a wet spot on the pillow. The sudden noise made Karen look up from her magazine. "What on earth are you doing, Sponge Bob?" she asked, voice a mix of annoyance and amusement. "Just... science," Sponge Bob said, his grin unabated. "I'm studying Plankton's snoring pattern... and drool." Karen rolled her digital eyes. "Fine. Just don't wake him. And for the love of Krabby Patties, please don't make a mess." She returned her focus to her magazine, seemingly unfazed by the sight of her arch-enemy playing with drool. Sponge Bob nodded solemnly, his eyes lighting up with newfound purpose. He decided to be more strategic in his scientific endeavor. He would need precision and timing. The drool bubble grew again, this time larger and more robust. Sponge Bob waited, his heart beating faster with every pulse of Plankton's snore. He took a deep breath, held it, and at the peak of the snore's crescendo, poked the bubble with a controlled flick. It exploded with a sound like a miniature water balloon, splattering across Plankton's cheek. The pillow was now a Jackson Pollock canvas of drool. Plankton's snoring hitched but he didn't wake. "Oops," Sponge Bob whispered, giggling quietly. He reached for a near by tissue to clean up the mess, his eyes glancing nervously at Karen. She peeked over her magazine, the corners of her robotic mouth curving upward slightly. "If you're going to play, at least be tidy," she said, voice a blend of reprimand and amusement. Sponge Bob nodded, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Of course, Karen," he whispered back, dabbing at Plankton's cheek with the tissue. The drool was sticky and clung to the fabric but Sponge Bob managed to clean when Plankton's snoring hitched. This time, Plankton's eyes opened a crack, his single eyelid revealing a sliver of his iris before dropping shut again. "What's going on?" he mumbled sleepily. Sponge Bob froze, tissue in mid-air. "Oh nothing," he said quickly, trying to sound nonchalant. "Just admiring your snoring." Plankton's eyelid quivered but remained shut. "Mmph." His mouth moved around the word. "Don't worry, buddy," Sponge Bob said softly patting Plankton's arm. "You're just resting. Nothing to worry about." The half-awake Plankton mumbled something unintelligible, and Sponge Bob took it as a sign to back off. He retreated to his chair, watching as Karen put down her magazine and began to fuss over Plankton, checking his vitals and making sure he was comfortable. For once, he wasn't at odds with Plankton.
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ & ꜱᴜʀɢᴇʀʏ “Good morning, Ms!” Ms has hypersensitivity due to autism. Even a slight touch is unbearably painful! How will Ms get through the medical exam? Ms sits on the exam table, heart racing. Ms tries to focus on the poster of a serene beach scene to calm herself. Dr. Hartwell, noticing her distress, approaches carefully. "Ms I know this can be overwhelming. But I'm here to help you. We'll take it slow, okay?" Ms nods, gripping the cold metal bar tightly. He starts with gentle explanations of each step, his voice calm and steady. Ms tries to breathe deeply, fighting the urge to retreat. The door clicks shut, a soft, final sound that echoes in the sterile room. He asks if she's ready, and she shrugs. His gloved hand touches her skin, and she tenses. "Ms, I'm sorry," Dr. Hartwell says, retreating slightly. He tries a different approach, his voice softer now. "How about I touch with less pressure?" The pain subsides a fraction, but it still remains. Dr. Hartwell then gets out a big metal speculum. Ms sees it, feels it, she’s uncontrollably shaking. "Ms," Dr. Hartwell says calmly, placing the speculum down. “Sorry. To big and hard,” Ms manages. The doctor nods thoughtfully, his gaze never leaving hers. “Let's use this instead,” he says, picking up a smaller, plastic one. It's less daunting, less cold, but the pain lingers, unbearable. Ms grips the bar tighter, her knuckles white with strain. “You're doing great,” Dr. Hartwell whispers, his voice a balm. He inserts the speculum slowly, his eyes on her face, reading every twitch, every flinch. Ms squeezes her eyes shut, body rigid with tension. The plastic touches, slides, and she gasps, but it's more unbearable than she feared. Dr. Hartwell stops immediately, his expression filled with concern. "Would you like to insert it?" He gently withdraws the tool. They’re running out of time. He looks around the room. "How about we try this?" he asks, his voice a gentle coax. "You can sit in the chair, lean back, and I'll examine you that way." Ms nods, desperation in her eyes. Dr. Hartwell adjusts the chair, bringing the foot rest closer. He tells her to put her feet up, the action itself traumatizing. He takes the smaller speculum, coated it in gel, and tells her to breathe deeply. Dr. Hartwell proceeds, his movements precise and gentle. Ms feels the pressure, the intrusion. She whimpers. The doctor's eyes meet hers, filled with understanding. "Let's try this," he suggests, picking up a small object. "I'm going to use this cotton swab instead. It's softer, less intrusive." Ms nods, the fear lessening ever so slightly. The cotton swab touches her gently. The pain does not vanish, but it's tolerable, a dull throb instead of a piercing scream. The doctor's voice remains calm, guiding her through the motions. “Good. Now for a mammogram..” Ms feels a new wave of anxiety crash over her. The machine looms in the corner, cold and unforgiving. "It’s important we check everything today," Dr. Hartwell explains, his eyes kind and patient. "But I know this is hard for you. Can you please stand up and come…” Ms, however, is still shaking, knows her hypersensitive condition will render it. The doctor notices and quickly adapts. "How about we skip the mammogram for now and discuss other options?" They talk through alternatives, like manual self-checks at home. Dr. Hartwell assures her that her health is his priority. He's willing to work with her to find the best approach, one that's comfortable and effective. Ms feels a glimmer of hope, a hint of trust and gratitude. They agree on a plan: a manual exam for today, and they'll explore further options for if needed. Her eyes light up with hope. They go over the instructions, simple steps she can do herself. Ms feels empowered by the idea of having control over the process. The doctor's empathy is palpable. They practice together, a mock exam with a plastic model. Mis's hands shake slightly as she mimics his gentle touch. He corrects her grip, praising each small victory. “Your in need of two hormone inoculations.” Dr. Hartwell says. Mis's heart sinks. She hates the sharp sting, the feeling of invasion. She looks at the needle, so thin and yet so terrifying. Her anxiety spikes, her chest constricts, making it hard to breathe. Dr. Hartwell notices and nods. "Ok let's try something different," he says, his voice calm and measured. He shows her a cream, explaining how it can help. They apply it, waiting for it to work. Finally, the time comes. Dr. Hartwell holds the needle, his grip steady and firm. His touch is swift and sure, but Ms feels the pain, a sharp reminder of her vulnerability. “One down, one more to…” But she cries. Dr. Hartwell pauses, understanding in his eyes. "It's ok," he says gently. "We can find another way." He sets it aside and pulls out a small device. "This is a topical anesthetic spray. It will numb the area so you don't feel as much." Mis nods, desperate. He applies the spray, and she feels a coldness spread where the inoculation will soon be. The doctor waits patiently, letting the numbing agent work its magic. Mis's breathing slows, the panic easing slightly. "Ready?" he asks, his voice soothing. This time, the approach is less terrifying. It’s administered with minimal discomfort. Ms winces but does not pull away. The pain is there, but it's muffled. Dr. Hartwell nods, his expression a mix of relief and determination. "Good job, Ms. You're doing so well." Ms needs a blood draw. She's not just afraid of needles, but the anticipation of pain, the cold touch of the alcohol swab, the pressure of the phlebotomist's grip...it's all too much. Not to mention the actual poking prick.. Dr. Hartwell notices and suggests a compromise. They'll use a butterfly needle, smaller and more comfortable, and a warmer to heat before drawn. The nurse prepares the equipment, movements efficient and kind. She's used to dealing with anxious patients, but Mis's fear isn’t just fear or annoyance; it’s autistic condition and hypersensitivity that Ms herself knows limited pain tolerance. The nurse wraps the warm cloth around Mis's arm, and the gentle heat seeps. Dr. Hartwell takes his place beside her, holding the small butterfly needle with a cotton ball at the tip. The nurse places the heated alcohol swab on the inner elbow, and Ms tenses. It's a gentle poke and she feels the slight sting as the nurse inserts it. But of course the sting is magnified for Ms. The nurse is quick, her hands steady with expert ease, and the whole process is over in seconds. Mis's heart is racing, her body shaking. Dr. Hartwell rubs her shoulder, his touch a reassurance. "It's over," he says softly. "You did it." Ms nods. "What can we use for next time?" The nurse asks. “X-rays, different form of the hormonal injection where no needles are involved, urinal test instead of bleeding? A bigger room? Child sedatives?” Ms murmurs. Dr. Hartwell nods, scribbling down notes. "We'll explore all those options. In the meantime, you can go home!" “Thanks..” Ms says. The next appointment, Mis goes knowing her sensitivities have not changed. This time, Dr. Hartwell meets her in the hall. Mis breaks down, despite being gratefully understanding and trying to be brave. They take her to a quieter, more private exam room, decorated with soothing colors and a soft, plush chair. "Take your time, and tell when you're ready." Ms sits down. She sees a box labeled "DIY Health Kits" and feels a spark of curiosity. Dr. Hartwell opens the box, revealing an array of tools and instructions tailored to her needs. "This is your DIY health kit," he explains, his voice calm and soothing. "You can use to perform self-exams at home. It's less invasive, and you can do it on your own terms." Ms nods, a flicker of hope in her eyes, tears of relief instead of upset tears. He hands a small container with a test strip inside. "This is for urine. It's quick and easy, and it will tell what needs to know." Ms takes the container, follows his instructions, each step a small victory. Dr. Hartwell shows her a slim device, similar to a tampon but with a small cap. "This is DIY Pap. You insert it like so, then twist to collect a sample." The vibrating ice pack is next. "For finger pricks," he says, his voice calm. Ms looks at it, a strange mix of relief and curiosity. The thought of doing it herself is less terrifying than the clinic. "Now, let's talk mammograms," Dr. Hartwell says, his gaze soft. He shows her a handheld scanning device. "This is a DIY mammogram. It uses sound waves, no radiation, and it's less invasive than the traditional. You can use it in the privacy of your home, at your own pace. It's designed to be gentle." Ms nods, the fear slightly eased. The doctor opens another compartment in the DIY health kit, revealing a pack of colonoscopy strips. "These are for checking your bowel health. They're painless and easy to use. All you do is defecate on this, will tell what’s going on down there, ok?" Ms nods. The idea of self-examination is less daunting than the traditional methods. Dr. Hartwell's empathy is a balm, his patience unyielding. He opens the last compartment. Inside, she finds a set of small patches. "These are the hormonal patches," he says, holding one up. "They're like stickers. You just apply one to your skin, and it delivers the medicine through your skin. No needles." Mis's eyes widen. It's like he's reading her mind, offering a solution tailored to her fears. Ms feels a surge of gratitude to Dr. Hartwell. His understanding and willingness to adapt to her needs make her feel seen and heard, something she's not used to, in a medical setting. For the first time, Ms feels a glimmer of hope that she can take control of without the debilitating pain nor fear of ableist microaggressions. ( emojicombos.com/neurofabulous )
BRITAIN'S YOUNGEST VICTIM OF TAMPON-RELATED TOXIC SHOCK SYNDROME On Monday 13th August 2001 the Inquest into the death of 13-year-old Kayleigh Ann Jones of Middlesbrough, revealed that she died of tampon-related Toxic Shock Syndrome, the very first time that she had used tampons throughout her period. The Coroner, Michael Sheffield, was so affected by this tragic loss of a very bright young teenager that he decided to use his special powers to write to the Department of Health to enlist its support to highlight the dangers of tampons, to the medical profession and in schools. Kayleigh died in September 1999. Thursday was the first day back to school and it was the last day of her period. But Kayleigh became ill with sickness and diarrhoea shortly after arriving at school, and by the afternoon, the school had to call her stepfather, Terry Martell, to pick her up and take her home. She went straight to bed, and her mother Carol nursed her through the night. The next day there was no change so Carol phoned the GP. The Doctor advised giving plenty of fluids as it was probably a viral infection. But this didn't improve the situation, and as Kayleigh's temperature rose markedly, she began to ramble and became delirious, so the doctor was called again. The doctor could not find a blood pressure and immediately gave Kayleigh penicillin as he thought that she had meningitis He called the ambulance and put her on a drip. Kayleigh was stabilised in hospital and TSS was diagnosed. On Saturday there were more tests and treatment and she had a peaceful night. However, the following day Kayleigh's temperature went up again, her lungs filled with fluid and she suffered a fatal heart attack just four days after the initial symptoms. The Inquest found that the medical staff at the hospital and the GP did all that they could to save Kayleigh, leaving no doubt that Kayleigh died as a result of TSS caused by tampons. A verdict of Misadventure was recorded. The tampons used were Morrison's Supermarket own brand manufactured by Inbrand UK that have now gone out of business. Morrison's are currently supplied by Childwood Ltd. As a result of the Inquest, Kayleigh's mother, Carol Martell, has now been able to tell the world that the life of her loving and talented daughter has been tragically cut short by a tampon. She has received front page news and an in-depth report in the Northern Echo, followed up with news items in the Sun, Mirror Mail, Telegraph and the Express. Kayleigh's father, David Jones, was interviewed on GMTV and appeared in his local Crawley News, and Jenny Kilvert was interviewed on BBC Radio One. The media coverage prompted Discovery Channel to include a programme on Toxic Shock Syndrome in their series "Doctor in the House". The programme included TSS survivor Angela Smith of Norwich, who had TSS in November 1992 when she was 19 years old. Posted 19/8/2001
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nikskrow#498642501/sretpahc/78409614/skrow/gro.nworuofoevihcra//:sptth 2202:dehsilbuP :statS hsilgnE :egaugnaL nikskrow#362668401/sretpahc/78409614/skrow/gro.nworuofoevihcra//:sptth sbarK eneguE ,skeehC ydnaS)boBegnopS( neraK ,notknalP .J nodlehS ,selcatneT drawdiuqS :sretcarahC )nootraC( stnaPerauqS boBegnopS :modnaF traeHyMdracsiD pleK roF yrC A nikskrow#498642501/sretpahc/78409614/skrow/gro.nworuofoevihcra//:sptth

Warning: This item may contain sensitive themes such as nudity.

"You're going to be okay," Karen assured Plankton. He clutched her hand. "I'm right here." The receptionist's voice echoed through the large waiting room. "Plankton?" Karen's heart jumped. She squeezed her husband's hand. They walked down the hallway, Plankton's breaths shallow, eye darting around the white, sterile walls. The nurse led them to a small room. "Just a few questions," the nurse smiled, her voice soothing as she helped him in the recliner. The nurse, noticing his agitation, spoke slowly and clearly. "We're just going to take your blood pressure, okay?" The nurse wrapped the cuff around his bicep, her movements gentle. The hiss of the air pump filled the tense silence. "Look at me, Plankton," Karen whispered, her calming gaze meeting his. "Take deep breaths." He inhaled deeply, his chest rising and falling in a deliberate rhythm. The nurse waited patiently, giving them space. As the cuff tightened, Plankton's eye squeezed shut. The nurse completed her task quickly, her voice steady. "Good job," she said, patting his hand. Karen felt his fear spike, but his grip on her hand remained firm as the oral surgeon walked in. Dr. Marquez nodded at them, his demeanor calm and professional. "Hello, Plankton. I see we're getting ready for your wisdom teeth." He noticed Plankton's tension and turned to Karen. "You earlier mentioned his neurodisability. Is there anything special we can do to help make him comfortable?" Karen's screen lit up with gratitude. "Yes, thank you." She explained his need for calm and his sensory sensitivities. Dr. Marquez nodded thoughtfully. "We can use a weighted blanket to help with that. It provides a gentle pressure that can be quite comforting for some of my patients." He turned to the nurse. "Could you please bring one?" The nurse nodded and left the room. When she returned, she carried a soft, blue weighted blanket they warmed. They placed the blanket over Plankton, the weight evenly distributed. His body visibly relaxed under its soothing embrace. "It's okay," Karen whispered, stroking his antennae. "This will help." Plankton felt the warmth of the blanket, the weight of it pressing down on his shoulders and chest. But it did little to ease his dread. "Thank you, Dr. Marquez," Karen managed a smile, relief washing over her. She knew how important these accommodations were for her husband. The doctor explained the procedure, using simple terms that Plankton could understand. Karen noted how he tailored his explanation to avoid overwhelming details that might trigger anxiety. The anesthesiologist entered, her smile kind. "We're going to give you some medicine to help you sleep," she said gently, "and then you'll wake up without feeling a thing." Plankton nodded, his eye wide. Karen leaned in, her voice low. "You can hold my hand as you fall asleep." The anesthesiologist prepared the IV, but Plankton's grip on Karen's hand grew tighter. Dr. Marquez noticed his distress and suggested a different approach. "How about some laughing gas first?" he offered. "And perhaps a topical numbing agent.." The nurse quickly set up the gas mask, explaining each step. "This will help you relax," she said, placing it over him. "Just breathe normally." The sweet smell of the nitrous oxide filled him, yet he still remained awake. "It's okay, Plankton," Karen said soothingly. "Just keep breathing." He took a tentative breath, feeling the gas fill his lungs. The room began to spin, but not in the scary way he'd feared. It was more like floating. The weight of the blanket now felt like a gentle hug from the ocean depths, a warm embrace from his childhood home. Dr. Marquez waited until Plankton's breathing steadied, each gesture carefully calculated to avoid any sudden movements that might startle his patient. "You're doing great," he assured Plankton, his voice a gentle wave lapping at the shore of his anxiety. "You're almost there." Plankton inhaled another lungful of gas, his eye fluttering closed. The nurse gently began applying the topical numbing agent, her movements carefully choreographed to avoid any sudden jolts. Karen held his other hand, her thumb tracing comforting circles on his palm. "You're safe," she whispered. "I'm here." The gas grew heavier, his mind drifted further from the cold reality of the room. He felt himself sinking into the chair, the weighted blanket now a warm sea of comfort. His grip on Karen's hand grew looser, his breaths deepening. The doctor nodded to the anesthesiologist, who began the IV drip after using the topical numbing agent. Plankton's fear didn't vanish, but it became manageable, a distant thunderstorm rather than a hurricane in his face. His eye closed completely, his body going limp under the blanket. Karen watched as the surgical team moved with precision, their masks and caps dancing in her peripheral vision. The beeping of machines and the murmur of medical jargon filled her ears, but all she focused on was the rhythm of Plankton's breathing. The anesthesiologist checked the monitors and gave a nod. "He's ready," she said quietly. Dr. Marquez took his position, his gloved hands poised over Plankton's now open mouth after removing the gas mask. Karen's gaze was steady, her love and support unwavering as the surgical team moved in unison. The whirring of the instruments began, a soft mechanical lullaby to the background of Plankton's deep, even breaths. The surgery itself was a dance of precision, each gesture a step carefully choreographed to minimize discomfort. The doctor's hands were steady as he removed the wisdom teeth. Karen could see the tense lines in Plankton's face soften under the influence of the anesthesia. The anesthesiologist checked the monitors continuously, ensuring his vital signs remained steady. The nurse offered Karen a chair, but she chose to stand, her eyes never leaving Plankton's face. As the surgery progressed, Karen felt the tension in the room ease. The surgical team worked with efficiency, their movements synchronized like a well-oiled machine. Dr. Marquez spoke in hushed tones with his assistants, each word a gentle whisper in the symphony of medical sounds. Plankton's breaths steadied, the rhythmic beep of the heart monitor a soothing reminder that he was still with her, that his anxiety had been replaced by the peacefulness of deep sedation. The doctor's instruments continued to dance, a silent ballet of precision and care. The nurse occasionally glanced at Karen, offering a reassuring smile as they suture his gums with dissolving stitches. "Alright, we're all done," Dr. Marquez announced, his voice a gentle interruption to the symphony of beeps and whirs. "Let's wake him up slowly." Karen felt her own heart rate spike as the anesthesiologist began reversing the medication. They removed the IV drip and the nurse wiped Plankton's mouth with a soft cloth, her touch as gentle as a sea anemone caressing his skin. His eye flickered open, unfocused and hazy. He blinked slowly, taking in the surroundings. Karen's screen was the first thing he saw, a beacon in the medical fog. "You're okay," she murmured, her voice the gentle hum of a distant lighthouse guiding his consciousness back to shore. Plankton blinked again, his vision swimming into focus. The weighted blanket was still wrapped around him, the comforting pressure now a grounding reminder of her presence. His mouth felt foreign, as if it belonged to someone else. The nurse offered him water, and he sipped it slowly, feeling the coolness soothe his throat. "How do you feel?" Dr. Marquez asked, his voice a soft wave breaking over the shore of Plankton's awareness. Plankton nodded, his grip on Karen's hand firm. "Good," he managed to murmur, his voice thick with the aftermath of the anesthesia. Karen could see the relief in his eye, the storm of fear now a distant memory. ( emojicombos.com/neurofabulous )
Finola's Story 16-year-old Finola Tyson of Preston On Tuesday afternoon, 15 June 2005, 16-year-old Finola Tyson of Preston, complained of headache and stomach pains and asked her mother, Ange, to ring work, to say that she would not be attending that evening shift. It was the third day of her period and she had been using tampons. Around 10pm Fin said she was tired and wanted to go to bed. During the night she was sick and the next morning still complained of a headache and stomach ache. Her mother gave her Paracetamol and rang the doctor. He prescribed some Mefanamic Acid (Ponstans 40) for her period pains, (at mother's request), and also prescribed some tablets to stop her being sick. Ange collected the prescription, administered it, gave Finola a jug of water asking her to drink plenty and left her in bed to sleep. A little later, Ange. asked Fin how she felt and she said she had not been sick anymore and that her stomache ache had improved. She just wanted to sleep. The next day, Fin had an exam at school, so she was awoken at 7am. She came down stairs in her pyjamas, looking very lethargic. She had a red rash under her arms and was breathing faster than normal. Ange. asked Fin to breathe in through her nose and out through her mouth. It was at this point that Ange's partner John, noticed Fin's tongue. It was red with white spots, like a strawberry. She asked Fin. if she had a sore throat to which she replied she had. Ange. phoned the NHS Help-line and spoke at length with one of the Advisers who said "take her to her GP and don't worry". The doctor examined Fin., took her temperature, checked her throat, confirmed that she had a red raw throat, and diagnosed viral infection. He said that as she was taking her exams, that would account for her panic breathing. The rash was put down to eczema for which she had only recently been diagnosed. Fin was prescribed Amoxicillin for her throat, gel for her tongue (anti fungal), steroid cream for the rash and more Paracetamol tablets. Ange. monitored her daughter through the day, making sure she drank plenty of water and took all her medication. On Friday, there was still no change, no better, but no worse. Her "strawberry tongue" had gone down slightly and the white spots had subsided. On the Saturday morning, Ange. ran a bath for Fin. She went to her room to say that she would feel better if she had a bath and washed her hair, as she had not had one since Tuesday morning. Fin. agreed, but couldn't get up. She complained that her bones were aching and started to shout at her mother that she couldn't get up. Ange. managed to swing her out of bed and with help and support they got to the bathroom. Putting her into the bath was OK. She left her there for 5 minutes and returned to find she had not moved. Ange. knelt down to wash Fin's hair and then her body. She kept complaining of hurting and being tired. Getting Fin out of the bath was a nightmare, she felt so heavy and kept apologising all the time. Ange. managed to get her dry and back into bed. Ange. suspected meningitis and did the glass test on her rash, it stayed white. After 3 days on penicillin Fin was worse than ever, so Ange. phoned the doctor again. Being Saturday the calls were redirected to the hospital Primary Care Centre. The nurse on duty said get Fin to hospital as soon as possible. Ange's sister volunteered to take them to hospital and they drove straight there. The doctor called her in straight away. He checked her stomach and phoned someone straight away. There was a definite panic in the air as Fin had drips put into her. Ange. was asked to describe Fin's symptoms and history leading up to this day over and over again. They all kept saying what a good mum she had been and that she had done everything she could have. Then the bombshell, they confirmed they thought Fin had Toxic Shock Syndrome. She was taken to the Intensive Care Unit (ICU) around 5.30pm. There was a lot of activity, putting in more lines for drips, etc. The staff where brilliant right from the start, although one nurse was increasingly concerned that Fin was only on Oxygen and needed ventilating as she appeared to be weakening. At 8.30pm whilst a doctor was explaining the severity of the illness, Fin had a cardiac arrest. It felt like an eternity for Ange and John, but then the nurse came to say that they could go and see her. She was alive, but was now on a ventilator. The doctors explained the serious nature of Fin's condition and that they were doing everything possible. They were told that the best thing they could do, would be to go home and get some rest, Fin was going to be in hospital for a long time. They got a taxi back home and after a lot of tears and disbelief that something as horrific as this could happen to a beautiful girl they all tried to get some rest. The telephone rang around 2.30pm. It was the ICU and they said it would be better if Fin's parents came back to the hospital as her blood pressure had dropped dangerously low. Fin spent four weeks in ICU and after seven operations, lost her fight for life on Sunday 18 July 2004, just three weeks after her 16th birthday. Posted 27/6/2006
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sympt0ms of migraine include: fqtigue nausea/vomıtıng digestive issues visual disturbances (auras) sensitivity to light and/or sound mood changes bra1n fog/cognitive changes ringing in the ears dizziness/vertigo numbness/weàkness on one sıde of the bødy list is NOT complete, but is a starting point.
The Red Wristband A doctor was working at a hospital, a hospital where the patients were tagged with coloured bands. Green: alive. Red: deceased. One night, the doctor was instructed to get a few supplies from the basement of the hospital, and so he headed to the lift. The lift doors opened and there was a patient inside, minding her own business. Patients were allowed to roam around the hospital to stretch, especially those who have stayed long. The rule was to be back in their rooms before ten. The doctor smiled at the patient before pressing the number for the basement. He found it unusual that the woman didn’t have a button already pressed. He wondered if she was heading to the basement too. The lift finally reached the floor where the doors opened. In the distance a man was limping towards the elevator, and in a panic the doctor slammed the elevator button to close. It finally did and the lift began to ascend back up, the doctor’s heart pounding. “Why did you do that? He was trying to use the lift.” The woman stated, annoyed. “Did you see his wrist?” The doctor asked, “It was red. He died last night. I would know because I did his surgery.” The woman lifted her wrist. He saw red. She smiled. “Like this one?”
May 19th, 2010 My boyfriend died about a year ago. I was in the hospital for kidney problems and he was driving to visit me on a rainy day. The police said his car flipped over due to the rain. He died an hour later in the same hospital I stayed at. Before he died, he told the doctors to give me his kidney. His love GMH.
In 2016, a study in the journal Clinical Infectious Diseases [PDF] suggested that immunity might actually last as long as 30 years for tetanus and diphtheria. The CDC, however, has not yet altered its guidelines for vaccinations. There are tetanus vaccines that can also protect against Diphtheria and Pertussis (Tdap) or only Diphtheria (Td). Both vaccines last 10 years.
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"I know your antenna hurts, Plankton. Why do you think I'm driving you to the doctor?" Karen exclaimed. The Bikini Bottom Hospital looms right up ahead. Plankton winced as he touched his antenna, which was swollen. "Don't you dare say 'I told you so' to me," he mumbled. "Why would I do that?" Karen replied, feigning innocence. They both knew it was because of his latest invention, a crazy contraption that was supposed to harness the power of jellyfish to make the perfect Krabby Patty. But, as usual, it went awry, and he wasn't quick enough to get out of the way. They arrived at the hospital. The receptionist glanced up from her desk. "Hello! How may I help you?" "It's Plankton," Karen said, nodding to her husband. "He's got an antenna problem. It's swollen and he's in pain. He got it slammed in between..." "Karen please.." Plankton interrupts. The receptionist remained professional. "Alright, let me get you checked in. Have a seat and will be with you shortly." The waiting room was filled with the usual assortment of Bikini Bottom residents nursing their injuries. Plankton tried to ignore the pain. A few minutes later, a doctor with a stethoscope around his neck called, "Plankton?" Karen gave him a gentle nudge and they followed into an examination room. The doctor took a look at his antenna, examining the swollen appendage, and Plankton's face contorted with each touch. The doctor spoke calmly, "We're going to need to perform surgery to repair the damage. It's nothing to worry about. The surgery is scheduled for tomorrow morning." Plankton's eye grew wide with dread, while Karen took the news in stride, already planning what she would need to bring him for comfort during their stay. Once outside the hospital, Plankton's mood quickly soured. "Surgery? How could you let this happen, Karen?" he snapped. "It's your own fault for messing with those inventions," she retorted. They both knew the real culprit was his relentless pursuit of the Krabby Patty secret formula, but the pain made Plankton more irritable than usual. They went home in silence, the tension between them thick enough to cut with a spatula. As they approached the Chum Bucket, Plankton's laboratory and their shared home, Karen finally spoke up. "Look, Plankton, we need to get you ready for tomorrow. You should rest." Plankton nodded begrudgingly. Karen sighed, knowing she had her work cut out for her if she wanted to ensure Plankton's recovery went smoothly. She helped him to their bedroom. Karen began to pack a bag filled with things to keep his spirits high during their stay. She tossed in a blanket, and a stack of comics featuring Mermaid Man and Barnacle Boy, and even a teddy bear. Karen couldn't help but reflect on how Plankton's obsession with the Krabby Patty formula had led to so many disasters. Despite his constant failures, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of pity for his never-ending quest. It was clear that he was driven by something deeper than mere greed; perhaps it was the desire for respect or the thrill of the chase that kept his tiny body and mind going. The next morning she got out of bed. Plankton's surgery was scheduled for 8 AM. She needs to get him up so they can go. Plankton was lying in bed. Karen sets the bag by the door before turning back to him, his good antenna twitching in his sleep as he continued to snore. She sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed. Gently, she shook him. "Plankton, it's time to wake up," she whispered. He groaned and opened his eye, looking up at her with a mix of fear and resentment. She knew the surgery was weighing heavily on his mind. The hospital was quiet this early as they made their way to the surgery wing. Plankton's heart raced as they walked in, his antenna throbbing. He took a deep breath to focus on the comforting sound of Karen's voice as the doctors and nurses prepared for the procedure. Karen sat by the bed with their bag in her lap. "Here," she said, handing him the teddy bear, "This will help you feel better." Plankton took it, feeling slightly embarrassed but also some comfort. He squeezed it tightly to his chest as the nurse draped the blanket over him. The nurse came in to administer the medication. Plankton's grip tightened on the teddy bear. "Just breathe deep," they coached. Karen watched as the medicine began to take effect. Plankton's eye grew heavy and his breathing slowed. He looked so vulnerable lying there, his defensive armor of anger and sarcasm stripped away. It was moments like these that reminded her why she put up with his shenanigans. As the anesthesia took hold, Plankton's grip on the teddy bear loosened. His body went slack, and he was soon fast asleep, his breaths deep and even as his mind drifted into oblivion. The doctors and nurses moved swiftly once he was out, preparing the surgical instruments as Plankton's snores echoed gently through the sterile room as Karen watches them begin the operation on his antenna. Her gaze was firmly fixed on Plankton's sleeping face, studying the way his expression softened in slumber, his mouth parted slightly in a way that made him almost seem... peaceful. When they finished the procedure, the doctor smiled. "Went perfectly, he did so well," he said to Karen. The nurse nodded in agreement. Karen felt a weight lift from her shoulders. They wheeled Plankton to a recovery room, and she followed closely behind, her eyes never leaving his tiny form. The room was dimly lit, with a gentle beep from the monitor attached to him, keeping track of his vital signs. The nurse helped transfer him to the bed, his arm draped over the side. She pulled the blanket over him as the teddy bear was placed under his arm. The nurse helped him settle into the bed, adjusting his pillows and covering him with a warm blanket. Plankton's chest rose and fell rhythmically, his snores now quiet. Karen sat in the chair beside his bed, holding his hand, her thumb brushing over his knuckles in a soothing motion. The room was dim, the only light coming from the glow of the medical equipment. The steady beep of the heart monitor was the only sound in the otherwise silent room. It was a stark contrast to the chaotic environment of the Chum Bucket, filled with the clanking and whirring of his never-ending inventions. Plankton stirred, his single antenna waving slightly as he woke up groggily. The pain from his surgery was managed by the drugs, but his mind was a fog. He blinked several times, trying to bring the room into focus. He felt a warm hand in his. "Karen?" he croaked out. Her eyes snapped to his, relief flooding her face. "You're awake," she said, her voice soft. She squeezed his hand back gently. The doctor walked in, a clipboard in hand. "How are you feeling?" he asked, looking at Plankton. "Tired," Plankton replied, his voice hoarse from the surgery. Karen leaned over the bed rail to get a better look at him. The nurse offered him a cup of water with a straw, which he took gratefully. "Your antenna is going to be okay," the doctor said, his tone reassuring. "We've managed to repair the damage. You'll need to keep it wrapped and protected for a today, but it should be as good as new soon." Plankton nodded, still feeling the fog of anesthesia. His eye searched the room slowly, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings of the recovery room. "You might sleep for the rest of today, which is normal and totally ok!" The doctor left the room, leaving Karen to watch over Plankton. She sat in the chair beside him, her hand still holding his, feeling his fingers tighten around hers as he fought the urge to drift back into sleep. "What's the plan?" Plankton mumbled, his voice slurred from the anesthesia. "Rest," Karen said firmly. "Lots of it. That's what the doctor ordered." She gave his hand another squeeze. The nurse checked his bandages and removed his IV. "Hah?" "Alright, Plankton," she said with a smile, "you're all set to go home." Karen stood up, feeling the relief wash over her. She helped him sit up, his movements sluggish from the lingering effects of the anesthesia. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and she noticed his antenna wobble slightly as he found his balance. With Karen's assistance, They made their way slowly down the corridor. The hospital's bright lights felt harsh to Plankton's half-open eye, and the smell of antiseptic made him twitch. His antenna, now wrapped in a fresh bandage, pulsed with a dull ache, but the pain was nothing compared to the exhaustion that weighed down his every movement. Karen walked beside him, her hand ready to catch him if he fell. Outside, the early afternoon sun shone down on Bikini Bottom, casting long shadows over the sidewalk. Karen helped Plankton into the car, making sure he was buckled in tightly before putting the bag in the back. She got his blanket and leaned his seat back, giving him extra room to rest. Plankton leaned his head back, his eye already closing. The gentle hum of the engine was soothing, and he felt his body begin to relax. Karen started the car and pulled out of the hospital's parking lot. The drive home was quiet, with only the occasional snore from Plankton to break the silence. She glanced over at him, his chest rising and falling steadily.
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Specific Types and Classes Multiple types are available. Some allow you to be alert and oriented during a medical procedure, while others make sleep so you're unaware of what's going on. It essentially puts you into a medically induced coma. This type of anesthesia not only allows a person to undergo a procedure without pain but also allows the person to be unconscious for the procedure. Some specific types or classes of general anesthesia include: IV anesthetics sedatives- your anesthesiologist will use your IV line to administer into your blood. The medication works quickly and typically puts you to sleep in under a minute. For this reason, its effects can be stopped by stopping the infusion, which will wake you up from it in minutes. Inhalational anesthetics The four clinical stages of general anesthesia include induction, maintenance, emergence, and recovery. Induction can be achieved through administration of either an intravenous or inhalation anesthetic. During the maintenance stage, anesthetic agents, intravenous, inhalation, or a combination, are continued to maintain the surgical stage of anesthesia. The emergence phase correlates to the discontinuation of anesthetic agents with the goal attaining near baseline functionality. Organ systems of focus include the cardiovascular, respiratory, and central nervous systems (CNS). Throughout the procedure, the anesthesiologist will monitor your vital signs, including your heart rate and rhythm, blood pressure, temperature, and body fluid balance, to ensure safety and comfort. The recovery phase is an extension of the emergence stage whereby the goal is to return the patient back to their baseline state of physiological function. While most people will start to regain consciousness within a few minutes, it can take several hours to feel completely alert and coherent again. Patients experiencing delirium or agitation when coming out of anesthesia can also feel hyperactive or experience extreme sluggishness. The researchers believe hyperactivity may result from the microglia intervening too much between the neuron and inhibitory synapses.
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