“kats…she’s Yours.”

this is such a cool idea

A boring night......listening to my heart to relax to before bed...... 86bpm

different viewpoints

i wanna see usurper!gojo's courting shenanigans plsplspls

in which gojo satoru, your beloved king and betrothed, knows his time is best spent in your company riling you up.

gojo satoru x fem!reader

word count: 2.5k genre: fluff, royal au, childhood friends to lovers type: one-shot reader: fem (she/her pronouns, fem terms, fem clothing including dresses) warnings: once again hes pushy n the reader's a lil bit hesitant but hed stop if she rlly wanted, vague references to violence note: see i was gonna do a few lil scenes but the first one got away from me.... but basically the period of him courting the reader (which full disclosure isnt technically courting bc that should be happening before one proposes but this occurs while theyre engaged bc Gojo Didnt Get That Memo but i digress) is just him being WILDLY inappropriate for cultural standards, everyone silently pitying the reader, and the reader having a whole ton of conflicting emotions but ultimately rlly liking it 😭😭😭

usurper!gojo tag || masterlist

“they say you’re inhuman, you know.” you’ve finished the flower chain. his eyes don’t stray from your fingers as they nimbly connect the two ends and tie them together with a final stem into a thick circlet. “they said it a lot that night. they said you were the gods’ fury made mortal.”

he snickers. “how dramatic.”

you lift yourself up onto your thighs, shuffle towards him further and reach out, and he bows his head to let you place your creation upon it. your hand trails down when you let go, drifting over his ear and along his jaw as he lifts his head from its bow to look at you. you certainly mean to pull it away but his hand beats you to it, darting up to keep your palm against his cheek as you settle back down on the backs of your heels.

“i know why they came to that conclusion,” you say. “you terrified me when i saw you.”

“did you think me inhuman?”

you hum, eyes tracing along the band of flowers now gracing his forehead, falling to rest on his hand over yours. “no. never. monstrous, perhaps. odious. but very human.”

Satoru finds you out on the grounds, tucked away at the edge where the manicured gardens give way to rough forest. The weather has been turbulent, but for the first time since the coup there’s enough sun to stand being outside the castle longer than a scant few minutes. You’d said that morning that you planned to venture out, now that early spring flowers were beginning to bloom.

You’re cloaked in heavy furs, layers of skirts and wool protecting you from the cold, all elaborate garments that he’s gifted you. It's adorable (satisfying) to see you dressed up in his presents. He tells you as much when he finds you, delves into the treeline long before you see him so that he can sneak up upon you and whisper it into your ear to make you yelp and jump away.

“You mongrel,” you accuse with wide eyes and a hand on your heart as you work to steady your breathing. “Have you no respect for your future wife?”

“Ah, she admits it readily now? Progress.”

Your face twists as if someone has struck you. He chooses to ignore it and drops to sit sprawled out on the grass, beckoning unabashedly for you to join him on his lap. You won’t relent, he’s well aware, but he’ll have his desires known either way.

“Presumptuous,” you say. He'd die a happy man if you kissed him as many times as you called him that, but in lack of the former he’ll be content with the latter.

“Sit with me, my queen. I've missed you.”

“I am not yet your queen, Satoru,” you correct out of obligation. “You saw me an hour ago, we ate together.”

“Ah, but every moment apart is agony.” Satoru wonders if you know how serious he is beneath the breezy tone. From the way you wrinkle your nose, he doubts it.

“You have a meeting with your advisors now. You should not be out here.”

He pouts. “But you’re out here, and if I have to spend more time with those old fools than you today then I'll throw a tantrum tomorrow.”

You roll your eyes, let out a sigh that sounds long-suffering, but you shift your skirts and ease yourself down to sit gracefully before him with your legs tucked next to you. His threats aren’t empty and you know it.

“Fine.” You look down, as if inspecting the grass, spreading fingers along the blades as you begin to pluck wildflowers. Then you pause and glance up at him. “Remove those… oh, whatever they are. Let me see your eyes unhindered, at least.”

“Anything for my darling bride,” he coos at you, immediately doing as asked. He’d have done so anyway, if only to watch you lose yourself in staring when he reveals his eyes, catching yourself once he blinks and snapping your head back to the ground to busy yourself once more with plucking your blooms.

“How do you see a thing through those,” you grumble lowly, certainly just to break yourself from being flustered. It works too well; Satoru immediately jumps on the chance you’ve given him.

“Would you like to try them?” he asks, but doesn’t wait for a response, mind already conjuring an image of you draped in every golden chain and precious stone gracing his chambers.

He removes them from his face, pulling the chain from around his neck, and swiftly transfers them to yours before you can refuse—tilts your head up to look at him and tugs your hair out of the way with deft fingers, eases the gilded extremities onto your ears and lets the pads of his digits linger on either side of your head before pulling away. Pausing in your work and tilting your head back down to peer at him over the top of the frames, you blink at him owlishly from behind the glass, unused to staring through it. Precious, he thinks, and wishes briefly to kiss you—but he has to be smart about kissing you, calculating. Too much attention too fast and you have a tendency to pull away from him like the ebbing tide. It's agony for him, wanting nothing more than to hold you as much as he wishes, but as much as he wants there’s very little he hates more than when you tense under his touch and turn away from him.

“They suit you better,” he tells you, because they do. You look good adorned with jewelry of his design. “You oughtn’t wear them in public, though, or all the courtiers will be scrambling to get themselves a pair. Just for me, I suppose.”

Your nose wrinkles at the mention of your newfound influence, eyes darting to the side and lower lip pouting, an expression that makes him cast aside all his convoluted schemes to ease you into his affections. He leans down to peck at your lips, kiss away the pout, gone before you can complain. It’s fast enough that you don’t immediately recoil and give him a lecture on decorum, or perhaps you’re simply getting more used to it.

Satoru’s attention doesn’t stray as you return to your work. You’ve gravitated towards flowers with long stems, he realizes; collected them in a pile on your skirts, which you seem to have deemed large enough as you pick a notably long one up and begin to string them together in a chain. You don’t bother removing his glasses either, simply allowing them to slide down to the end of your nose. The golden chain clinks softly with every movement of your head.

He wonders when you learned to make them. You’ve always been so careful about the skills you acquire, but he thinks perhaps your mother might have taught you. Or his aunt, for how much she loves flowers, and for how much of her time as queen (he’s been told anyway) was spent doing such frivolous things as making daisy chains in the gardens. You’re so very meticulous with your actions, every choice carefully constructed. He knows you’ve been doing that less and less around him—perhaps it’s finally sinking in that he cares very little about your actions, that he finds everything you do to be enthralling. More likely you’ve exhausted yourself trying. You’ve certainly exhausted yourself attempting to rein him in, though he’d like to believe you’re beginning to allow yourself to enjoy his antics.

Posterity, he thinks, will paint him as you do—bold, brash, uncaring of tradition, unapologetic in pursuit of a woman far beneath his status. There are a great many reasons you hesitate to marry him, he doesn’t blame you for your doubt. Certainly when he was younger he’d never imagined himself the type of man you’d end up betrothed to; he couldn’t count on his fingers the number of more suitable matches for the both of you in the eyes of society, but whereas in his youth he might silence himself and go along with the whims of his advisors he’s lost all sense of decency now. His close call with death and the coup he’d spent years preparing for had rid him of any desire to compromise, and he stands now in a position where he can certainly refuse the very people who once held sway over him. And you appreciate all of that, he knows it. It’s one of the reasons he adores you so; beneath your veneer of decorum lies not a lady but a queen with desires all too different from those you’ve been forced to portray. He’s always known this, and to an extent he can’t find it within himself to regret the events that have led him to where he is today because if they hadn’t transpired he wouldn’t have you.

Satoru remembers a time in his youth when his mother made a passing mention that she enjoyed a certain hairstyle on young girls—two long braids, tied with ribbons. For months afterward all the upcoming court ladies wore it diligently, yourself included. He found it painful to see on you until he discovered that they made a lovely way to pull your nose from a book and fix your attention onto him, and that he could tug on the ribbons at the ends until they unfurled and he could pocket them to return later by tying them around the necks of one of his hunting dogs and sending it after you.

(If he were the kind of man you’d marry without hesitation he’d feel remorse for his childhood actions. Instead he’s the man you will marry, and he plots how to steal one of your hair ribbons again and return it in the same way. For memory’s sake.)

“They say you’re inhuman, you know.” You’ve finished the flower chain. His eyes don’t stray from your fingers as they nimbly connect the two ends and tie them together with a final stem into a thick circlet. “They said it a lot that night. They said you were the Gods’ fury made mortal.”

He snickers. “How dramatic.”

You lift yourself up onto your thighs, shuffle towards him further and reach out, and he bows his head to let you place your creation upon it. Your hand trails down when you let go, drifting over his ear and along his jaw as he lifts his head from its bow to look at you. You certainly mean to pull it away but his hand beats you to it, darting up to keep your palm against his cheek as you settle back down on the backs of your heels.

“I know why they came to that conclusion,” you say. “You terrified me when I saw you.”

“Did you think me inhuman?”

You hum, eyes tracing along the band of flowers now gracing his forehead, falling to rest on his hand over yours. “No. Never. Monstrous, perhaps. Odious. But very human.”

“You wound me. I might die by your cruelty.”

“Die, then.”

Satoru makes a show of it just for you. Falling back to sprawl on the ground, he gags violently, stabbing at his own heart with an invisible knife and convulsing with his tongue hanging out until you shriek for him to stop, voice filled with giggles. He takes that as a cue to still, to fall limp as if truly dead with eyes fluttering shut—then beckons you closer.

“I need…” he rasps out, barely audible.

You indulge him and do so. “My king?”

“…iss…”

“What?”

“True love’s kiss,” he repeats louder, pursing his lips expectantly. He doesn’t truly think you’ll do it, and you don’t—you lean in like you will, but bypass his lips entirely and bite his cheek instead.

He yelps, just for you, just so you’ll feel accomplished. And so he can see your smile, hear the smugness in your voice as you say, “It’s a miracle, you’ve come back to life.”

But he doesn’t give you weakness for free. No, he snakes his arms around your waist before you can pull back, and uses the grip to all but pull you on top of his lap as he sits up. Perhaps it’s his lack of insistence on you giving him a kiss, or perhaps he’s simply started to break down your walls enough, but whichever it is you don’t protest. Instead you seem to find flaws in the flower crown you’ve gifted him. Your lips purse, hands coming up to fiddle with the blooms. He realizes that he can’t stand a single moment of your attention on anything other than him, even if your fingers are nearly tangled in his hair.

“If I return to court with a crown of flowers made by my lover still on my head, do you suppose they’ll think me less inhuman?”

Your face falls at the suggestion, eyes widening in mortification. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“It's far more comfortable than that heavy gold. And I happen to personally adore the artisan who made it, so—”

“I don't trust you anymore, take it off! You’ve lost the right!” You attempt to remove it, but he reacts with the very reflexes that make him so inhuman, uses that monstrous height to lift his head higher than you can reasonably reach, though it doesn’t stop you from trying.

“It'd be rude of me to refuse a gift, my queen.” Laughing, Satoru holds you back with ease, eager for the excuse to put his hands all over you while you’re too worked up to feel self-conscious.

“Not yet,” you wail. “Not your queen yet, you knave!”

“Mine either way, though,” he replies smugly with a playful tug to the chain you still wear. “Covered in my presents. It’s only fair that I get to display a token you’ve given me, no?”

“No, it is not. You’ve stolen all of my outerwear and replaced it with these, I've no other choice. But you will not return to your advisors displaying that—that childish trifle, I won't allow it, you will not expose to the court that I made such a thing for yo—oh!”

He tackles you to the ground, careful not to even knock the wind out of you, though he steals your breath the moment you’re safe in his arms by pulling you into a kiss to keep you from talking further. He’d intended it to be faster, but his nose crashes into the tinted spectacles still upon your face and he’s filled with such ardor that he can’t help but deepen it.

Your hand slides behind his head, threads through his hair. He feels you snap a single stem between your fingers. The crown comes apart just as he takes a moment to pull away, and the flowers fall to scatter in the grass beneath him, a halo around your head. There’s a little smile on your face, your chest huffs with quiet laughter, and your palm slides down to the base of his hair. You use that hold and your other hand, which has fisted his tunic, to yank him down and connect your lips again.

Above, a cloud passes. Satoru can feel the sun shine warm on his back, hear the wind in the budding trees, smell the bite of melting snow and the petals of your wildflowers, yet there’s nothing that could distract him from the feeling of your kiss. His eyes close, he pushes closer though he hardly needs to with the way you still tug on his shirt. His arm comes up to brace next to your head, just to make sure he’s holding his own weight rather than crushing you, and the other leaves your waist to trail down your thigh and grip beneath your knee, shifting your leg to hook around him. If your mouth weren’t occupied he thinks you’d be lecturing him for such an obscene display in a place where anyone could stumble upon you—so he does well to keep it occupied, refusing to part even as your grip on his tunic loosens and he’s forced to grab your newly freed hand to pin it to the ground with fingers intertwined.

It's the first time you’ve ever kissed him. He already plots how to push you into doing it again when he finally pulls away, eyes locked on your swollen lips.

mutual pining with bakugou but you two are oblivious as hell at first. like, everyone can see, oh, they can. anybody can tell how he never berates you, he tolerates everything you do, and even give you his utmost attention whenever you speak. not to forget that he wouldn't mind shutting everyone up just so they can listen to what you're saying. so, he can listen to what you're saying. the thing is that you two just mingle very casually, too very naturally, that such things don't occur as a special treatment from him. it flows just as is.

but the simplest things escalate little by little. with time, he doesn't mind a little touch. bakugou likes it, honestly, but he'd rather die than admit it in front of everyone. he lets you but he never says a thing about it. like when you pull onto his hand, telling him to rush to the class. or when the hall to the canteen is busy that you would accidentally brushes your shoulder against his.

with time, too, he gets bolder and comfortable. he'd take your hand first. in a crowd full of people, you wouldn't have to worry you'd lost him because you can feel his touch on you. sometimes it's his hand on your lower back, or on your shoulder, or maybe, on your waist if he's feeling brave. bakugou will always make sure you're not out of his sight.

you two are literally inseparable even after graduation. time can be harsh on you two, but bakugou would always find an excuse to stand in front of your doorstep.

“patch me up, would you?” he'd say on some nights. on some other days, he'd just wait for you to open your door and just feel glad to see your face.

there's no ‘go out with me’ and there is no ‘what is our relationship?’ because words aren't needed to describe how you two could naturally mesh with one another. with time, it's clear that you need him and he probably needs you even more than he would ever admit to your face.

so it doesn't come as a surprise to everyone. when one day you two are professional pro-heros and you two casually mention to your friends—kirishima, mina, sero, kaminari, izuku—that you two are living together.

it supposedly should have not come as a surprise when one day he comes home after a very rough mission. with dried blood on his costume and sticky bandages on his arms. and he rushes to your shared bedroom, rummaging through his wardrobe and chest, looking for something.

it shouldn't surprise you that after watching his life flashed in front of his eyes, the first thing he wants to do is to go home and see you. to be home to you.

it shouldn't be weird that he'd turn around to see your confused face before he asks you to be his companion of life. “please, i can't see myself going another day without you. i may not be the best person around with my shitty temper. i know you deserve more, but despite that i know i would want nothing but to come home to you. after a shitty day, i would want to have you to be there and i promise i'll always be there on your shitty days too. so, would you please marry me?”

he'd rush his words, and it is so unlike him and he says it with the red velvet box he has kept as a secret ever since he gives you the key to this apartment. he places it onto your palm, hoping that you'd take it. wishing to every Gods that you wouldn't mind settling down with him. which you don't.

so, bakugou shouldn't be surprised that his question—or pleas, even, is being answered by your hug. tears brimming on your waterline and a trembling whisper of 'yes'.

after all, it comes as natural as how you two met since the very first day.

IT’S NOT ‘PEEKED’ MY INTEREST

OR ‘PEAKED’

BUT PIQUED

‘PIQUED MY INTEREST’

THIS HAS BEEN A CAPSLOCK PSA

Dragon fruit Plushie

cw: gojo's past arc spoilers, implied sex, suggestive, kissing

when gojo awoke, he noticed four highly unusual things.

one, his bed was missing its usual coldness. the one he has gotten used to waking up to ever since… he was born?

which is weird, because he never bought any sort of electric bed warmers nor was it summer.

two, he had no nightmares. no images of his best friend's back turned to him as he slowly blends into the crowd, no images of a dead amanai riko lying limply in his arms, no images of fushiguro toji stabbing him on his throat, and no images of the three of them blaming and shouting at the man for their own fates.

which is rare, because every night either one or all of them would visit gojo. he even had the habit of taking his guesses on who's appearing in his dreams due to how frequent they happen.

three, he feels happy. like really, sincerely happy. not like the mask of joyfulness he shows his students; unlike the facade he had gotten all too used to presenting people.

which is rare, because gojo satoru has never felt true happiness ever since geto suguru's defection.

four, there's something warm and soft enclosing his whole body. as if he suddenly acquired a life-sized teddy bear he's now snuggling with.

but no, he never bought any sort of stuffed toy and what he was feeling was something way better than some big plushie.

(because teddy bears don't radiate warmth that feels as homely, as comforting, nor as peaceful as the sorcerer senses to the point that he never wanted to let go.)

so despite his body and mind's unceasing protests, gojo satoru slowly but surely opened his eyes to inspect why the hell there were suddenly so many changes on his usual mornings.

it was you.

an ethereal being quiescently sleeping with your cheek squished on his toned pectoral littered with red and purple marks, your marks, drool dripping down your mouth, tangled and messy hair sticking to your face, arms tightly wrapped around his naked torso as if you too would never want this moment to end.

ah. that explains why i slept so well.

gojo raises the duvet up to your shoulder before lifting his right hand and brushing your hair out of your face, wanting to see for the first time what you look like when you sleep and god. it's the only sight he would ever want to see over and over again and again for the rest of his mornings.

memories of the night prior came flooding back into his mind, filling his entire being with more and more tenderness as he remembers how your bodies perfectly molded and joined into singularity mere hours ago, as if you two were puzzle pieces who found their way towards each other despite being lost wandering somewhere around the vast and endless universe.

gojo tightened his left arm on your bare waist, his desire to be closer to you and to feel you even further starting to overtake his senses.

that is until you stirred, opened your eyes, and roamed your pupils on your surroundings before settling into his own sapphire irises. your forehead scrunched upon recognizing the man, as if you were wondering how you ended up in your current position.

you're frowning and groggy and disoriented so why are you still so gorgeous?

"g'morning, drooling beauty. someone had a great sleep, huh?" he teases as a greeting, making you frown even more as you attempt to remove your arms from his body.

whining, gojo's hands instantly flew to yours as he pressed his weight down onto the mattress, "nooo. let's stay like this."

at that, you smirked and rested your chin on his sternum before opening your mouth, "heh. someone wants to cuddle, huh?" your tone was condescending yet you still held him tighter than before, upper body fully pressed on his and arms underneath him as you lean closer to press your lips on his jaw.

(oh how he loves your morning voice; the only sound he wants to hear as soon as he wakes up.)

satoru smiled before muttering ‘just stay with me,’ pressing his lips that have said far too many words and brushed all over your figure last night on the top of your head as he basks in your presence.

it’s pretty ironic. how infinity, his most prized technique, is meant for gojo satoru to be untouchable, to serve as a barrier—a physical boundary he learned to automatically activate in order to keep himself from any injury, from any type of harm, from any kind of pain.

yet all he wants whenever he’s with you is to turn all those barriers off and to shove them away on the deepest part of his being, never to emerge again. he just wants to hold you close until the edge of the universe stops expanding and starts receding, until only the two of you are left in a small space slowly getting swallowed by complete darkness.

only then will he activate his infinity and shield the both of you against the collapsing cosmos.

“...fast? gojo? are you listening?”

your muffled voice brought the naked man back to reality, and he feels you attempting to raise your head from its place on his neck (probably to look at him) but fails as he pushes the body part back with his chin. "yes, yes, i'm listening. you were saying something about how we finished fast, right? you can just say you wanna go for another, ya know? i won't mind~"

you let out an ugh and he swears he can hear your eyes roll within your response, "no, you idiot. i was asking what you wanted for breakfast. were you dozing off?"

he responds only to your former question, completely ignoring the latter. "breakfast, huh? let me think."

for gojo, breakfast normally meant going to some shop near wherever he currently is and eating a slice of cake alone. he couldn’t even remember the last time he had a home cooked meal and although he’d stop at nothing to taste your cooking (even if it’s dirt), he has been thinking of another meal ever since he realized woke up with you.

smirking, the white-haired man twisted his body before flipping the both of you and hovered over your form despite your halfhearted protests. you were looking incredulously at him, left eyebrow raised and forehead scrunched as he slowly leans in to plant a chaste kiss on your nose.

“you were asking what i wanted for breakfast, right? welp, i want you.”

however, the thought of you standing in his kitchen, in front of his stove, possibly wearing his shirt that would be way too huge for your figure and making him breakfast while his body encloses yours from behind, the combined smell of miso soup and your neck permeating his senses sits at the back of his mind while he kisses you silly.

so gojo satoru, the ever unpredictable man, halts the onslaught of his love on your face and pulls back, perching both of his hands on either side of your shoulder as he continues hovering over you and watching you catch your breath.

“i changed my mind. cook me breakfast now~” he beamed before getting off the bed and grabbing his shirt on the floor, leaving you dumbfounded as you allow him to lift you off the mattress and carry you bridal style out of the door.

you sighed exasperately.

what a bizarre man you fell in love with.

navi

i just love him a lot TT

How to Go To a U.S. Hospital in 2022

Welcome to the hospital. You may have heard that we're understaffed. We are. We are no longer in a position to live up to the hospital experience you had back in 2019.

This post is about how to get the best possible care despite these trying times. Much of it is also applicable to long term care facilities and other institutions who are running on empty.

The Emergency Department

Consider: Do you have to go to an emergency department to get the care you need? If you need a prescription or a covid test or an inhaler or an x-ray or a STI test or basic diagnosis and otherwise you're probably fine, go to your doctor, a quick clinic, or an urgent care. You will not get care faster in the emergency room. I promise. Go to the ED if you are reasonably sure you would die or lose a limb if you didn't.

The ED is not first come first served. People who are going to die if they are not seen get seen first. If you are stable, even if you are in pain, be prepared to wait. At the height of covid we had stable people waiting for over 24 hours in the waiting area. We also cannot legally tell you to go somewhere else, even if we're pretty sure you're not sick enough to get seen anytime soon.

Bring your home meds. You are going to be there a while and you might not get in a bed in time to get your next dose. Even when you do, it takes a long time for a doctor to order your home meds. We never intended you to stay here for 4 days, so the infrastructure isn't there. Also, bringing your home meds is going to save you money.

RE: the above- tell us what you're taking, when you're taking it. We do want to know that so we don't give you anything that would interact with it. We also really want you to keep taking your home meds so you don't get worse.

Bring a charging cord for your phone, a change of clothes, a book, and if the visitation rules allow, a friend. You're going to be here a while.

The Emergency Department is designed to figure out what's wrong with you and do things that will save your life or help you leave the ED without having to get admitted. Sometimes the ED will treat pain, but each pain medication dose is ordered separately, so it's probably not going to be on the time scale you want or need. I hate to say this, but do keep asking. We have been really conditioned to assume if you stop asking, you're not in pain anymore.

If they tell you not to eat, or not to take a certain med, follow that advice. I know you've probably been there for a while and no one's told you why you can't do these things. That's not great. Ask why if you can, but assume the request is legit.

In order for you to be admitted, you need to be sick enough that they can't just kick you out with a cab voucher, a prescription, and a turkey sandwich. That's pretty dang sick these days. Pretty much, you have to be in danger of dying or losing a limb if you don't get admitted. And also, a bed in the hospital has to become available that can accommodate your needs. This usually means someone else has to get discharged or die. That might take a while, because they were just as sick as you when they came in.

The Hospital Floor

So they decided to admit you, a bed became available, and transport finally showed up to take you to your new bed.

Bring the following: A charger for your phone (I know you'd think we have these, but I swear we don't- they've all been stolen). If you smoke, bring nicotine lozenges or gum (you can't smoke or vape here. We have patches, but if you wait until you need a cig, it's too late for a patch to work, and if you try to sneak out most places will not let you back on the floor and you'll have to go back to the ED). If you have heartburn regularly, bring tums (we can order you tums, but you'll only be able to take like 1 every other hour, and let's be honest, if you use tums you usually need more than that). If you take a weird med, bring it (especially HIV drugs, chemo drugs, and meds for autoimmune conditions, because it takes forever to get some of these because we don't always have them on site). If you have severe allergies, consider bringing your own food. Seriously.

RE the above: Tell us what you're taking, when you're taking it.

Do not bring narcotics. There's too much liability on our end. Both because we cannot control how much you take if they are in your possession and if we find them we have to call security to watch us count them and store them in a locked drawer and which will be destroyed in 30 days if you forget to ask for them on the way out. It's just a hassle and someone is always in danger of getting sued over it.

If you drink more than 4 drinks a day, or use street drugs, tell us. Tell us please please tell us. We will not tell the cops. If we know, we will then be able to ask you questions about your withdrawal symptoms and can give you meds to control them. If you wait until you start swinging at us and having seizures we will not be happy.

Also, if you're on MAT, tell us. We don't automatically re-order suboxone or vivitrol like we do other meds. Addiction med has to be consulted, come see you, and work miracles to get that ordered for you while you're in the hospital.

If you see pain management, tell us as early as you can. Pain management has to be consulted and then work absolute miracles to get the admitting providers to order your home regimen, because anything more than 10mg of oxycodone every 4 hours is terrifying to them, even if you take 160mg of methodone everyday at home without a problem. The sooner they know you're here, the less likely you'll be miserable for a week before those things can be re-ordered.

Also, bring a friend. Seriously. I'm not kidding please bring a friend who is willing to help take care of you- things like turn you, help you dress, feed you, hold your hair back when you puke, and change your sheets when you pee the bed. And please bring someone you feel will follow the rules and ask before getting you something. You don't want to stay longer just because your friend brought you food you weren't supposed to eat because they felt bad for you.

A scheduled event is not really scheduled. Yes, you might have been told that your surgery is scheduled for 8am. You might have been told your dialysis was going to be "this afternoon". These things are not set in stone, and unless you are literally and currently dying, nothing is happening "right now". I have watched people wait days for appendectomies, gallbladder removals, displaced fractures, and other urgent-but-not-immediately-life-threatening problems. All a late intervention means is that someone else would have died if they did it as scheduled.

MOVE. Barring an unstable pelvic fracture or two broken femurs, if you can get out of bed and walk around, walk (ask your nurse if they want you to ask for assistance when you get out of bed to prevent falls). If you can't, sit up in a chair for part of the day. If you can't do that, move around in bed- roll back and forth, bend your knees, point your toes, do anything to keep you moving. If you're in pain, take pain medication strategically and move when it's most effective.

6:30 to 9:30, day or night, is the worst time period to put your call light on. Report time is 7 o'clock, meaning we have about a half hour to learn about our patients and set up our day, after which we have about 15 mins allotted per patient to assess the person, discuss goals for the day, find and pass daily medications, get vitals and blood sugar if applicable, and do anything the patient needs to get them set up for the day (water, pain meds, set up tray/feed, toilet, etc...). Put it on if you need to, but know that it will take a lot longer to be answered during these time periods than any other time of day.

You can refuse anything you want to refuse. You just can't sue us about it later. You can even say "I know you told me to do this thing, I am not doing it, please document accordingly". We will probably try to explain the consequences of not doing the thing. I recommend you listen, but the choice is certainly and always up to you.

You can leave against medical advice. It is also a thing you can do. As long as you let us tell you the risks, you can leave with prescriptions, education, and a wheelchair ride to the front door if you care to stick around for an hour or so after you declare you would like to leave. Some insurance companies have rules about this, which you can find by calling them. Just call and ask "what are the consequences of leaving against medical advice?" Some insurances don't have any consequences, some will completely refuse to pay for the stay, and some will refuse to pay for a second ED trip or admission within 30 days for the same problem.

Our prioritization system is: Critical (CPR, evaluating changes in status, dealing with changes in vital signs) Urgent (bed change for incontinent patient, pain/nausea/time-sensitive meds, drawing stat labs, answering phone calls from doctors, etc..) Routine (scheduled meds, scheduled assessments, calling family members, basic comfort things, ambulating patients, education, etc..) and Extra (everything else that has to do with comfort but isn't necessarily going to change outcomes).

I have had whole shifts where I don't do anything that isn't critical or urgent (with one routine med pass that was really late). I've rarely had a shift in the last 3 years where I've been able to do anything extra.

We're doing our best. Seriously. Nearly every shift I've worked has been absolutely flat out for 12 hours, and it takes a solid 2 days actually to recover from 2 days in a row of work. I would say I rarely get a full lunch break. Our patients are more and more complicated, and the decisions higher and higher stakes. Please understand. If you or a loved one hasn't been seen by the nurse in a few hours, it just means we're not as worried about you as the person down the hall who keeps trying to die.

We wish we could give you 2019 care. We really, really do. We don't have the resources for that anymore. We are triaging. The hotel vibe they were trying to present in 2019 is in the facility design only. You have to bring your own bells and whistles. You have to help us help you now.