hardblazesong:

youre-looking-peaky:
Monday
Tuesday
Wednesday
Thursday
Friday
Saturday
Sunday

Why is this of visual of every week of my life for the last several years?

jemscorner:

Da mi basia milleThen let amorous kisses dwellOutlander Parallels [ Seasons 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 ]

themusicsweetly:

Caitriona Balfe | Jennifer Klein’s Day of Indulgence Party
August 12, 2018 | Brentwood, California

aggiephile:

Anna May Wong in Piccadilly, 1929

pendvlvmswings:

the-wiccans-glossary:

The Wiccan’s Glossary

This is so great!

missclairebelle:

Many thanks to @kalendraashtar​ for being such a great source of encouragement on this part and for gut checking me (don’t blame her for any of my non-medical brain slip ups; she’s an innocent bystander and will be deleting me soon if I keep it up) and to @kkruml​ who is always in my corner. 💕

Here is the song that was on repeat while I wrote this one –– Lord Huron, When the Night is Over.

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Loss: Act I and ficlets

Loss: Act II: Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five

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Loss: Act II
Part Six

CPR
is nothing like what is shown on television or in films.  

Done
properly, the chest recoils under hands and blood rushes into the heart’s
chambers.

The
shallow, massaging and kneading of most fictional attempts at resuscitation accomplish,
quite literally, nothing.

It
takes muscle to save a life.

It
takes grit to bear down. (Five
centimeters into a chest again and again –– one hundred to one hundred and
twenty times per minute.)

It
is a violent act, digging deep enough to force life back into a body that is
failing, willing itself to die and trying to quit forever.  

The
echoes under hand of a breastbone cracking or of ribs giving way beneath
compressions are wrenching.  But the gut
reaction to pull back at the rush of nausea at the sound and feel of it is
drowned out by the desire for a patient to live,
live, live.  

Put
bluntly, despite the number of bones I had broken in a career of forcing life
back into someone’s chest, I had never received complaints afterwards.  

No
one ever said to me that life itself just
wasn’t worth that kind of pain.

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