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Stop asking for medical advice on Facebook,
Your superglue stitches and peroxide mismanagement
Will cost you more than a doctor's visit.
Stop asking for medical advice on Facebook
If you want to keep your limb.
I've found more competence on the "interweb."
Stop asking for medical advice on Facebook.
An oxygen embolism and cellulitis will
Have you putting out more than the Urgent Care.
Please, stop asking for medical advice on Facebook!
-Sincerely,
The EMT student who is constantly preventing disaster
For people with minor injuries who think 50's era first aid advice
Is a suitable alternative.
Axel Sep 4
When we found each other,
We were a mess, hair was muffled,
Eyes were swollen and heart was broken.

We were like medicine,
Or I'd say we're the doctors
And at the same time we were the hospital.

Our hearts were our patient,
I put a little bit of iodine love in you
But I guess yours healed first,
Leaving me alone in this hospital
Without any medication
And so much expectations.

I didn't have the money
To pay the bill
So I gave up my surgery,
Letting my patient die alone,
Slowly and lonely.

Did you came to visit?
Did you came to pray?
Did you came to wish a 'get well soon'?
Did you bring her too?
Well if you're happy then I'll be happy for you.
Thank you my medicine,
My doctor,
My hospital,
For everything we've been through,
Make her happy and treat her patient
Carefully with love for serenity
And promise me you'll love her
Until the day you die,
And always say 'I love you' everytime.
wrote this at 1am
Starry Sep 1
Hey squashhead
See that blood on your lip
It's not from a fight
It from a fight you
Are going to have
With cancer
A fight
You mostly not win
If you keep on freaking smoking
That blood is from your damaged longs
Starry Aug 21
Mangele
And many others
Bring the hippocratic oath
Hippocrates Cries with
Sadness
And spits in his grave
In rage.
No comments.
CR Franklin Aug 12
Sometimes I feel like I'm in a dark room
Holding a candle that'll burn out soon
Walking around carefully I meet others
Stuck in this room after burying brothers
I share my candles light and off they go
With a light so bright they find their door
Leaving me behind in this dark room
Holding my candle that'll burn out soon
I look at all the words I mean,
Not wanting people to come back right at me,
Reprimanding me for criticising health care professionals
(“They just want to help, it’s their job”
- Well that’s what I thought too,
So maybe someone should tell them to do their “compassionate” job right,
And to think, I wanted to be just like them
But better)
Criticising me for criticising the NHS,
It’s not about the NHS.
I’m not blind to see that this happens everywhere,
I was all for the NHS
I was
“Going to be a nurse”
And so so happy about it,
But they managed to take that from me too,
It didn’t encourage me to do better,
It just made me want to get as far away from them as possible.

So I thought, “don’t post it!”
And just as suddenly recalled that I should not hide this,
Even if occasionally in some twisted kind of way I do feel guilty, like it’s all my fault;
What they said, how they acted, what they thought,
Or just simply of their proposition that I’m ill because of myself.
After all, if I don’t speak out who will?
I think of those who do tell the world of their experiences,
And how when I read about it I felt understood, almost like there’s a place for me,
And how I wish I could be that brave,
Whilst knowing that I’m not.
They remind me that it’s not okay,
To keep being treated this way,
So why not speak out?
The side of me I taught to be nice to myself,
The one that challenges cruel thoughts, tells me that
Shouldn’t I deserve these rights? Shouldn’t I be heard without fear?
People like me have had things they need taken away from them by doing this,
But I never had them in the first place, so why not?

These health professionals have so much jurisdiction,
When it comes to our bodies and how we perceive them,
Even for patients who are headstrong and less vulnerable this can be volatile.
It will be painstakingly explosive.
I suppose optimistically I’d like to hope,
They don’t realise the power at their hands; their words, their treatment
That somehow makes it okay for them
To bruise the strong but delicate souls,
Which they manage to crush so easily, so mercilessly
(Instead of our symptoms)
But then I wonder, I just honestly wonder:
How it could be fathomable that they could look us in our pleading eyes and downright refuse us,
Undermine us, all at once as if we were a common inconvenience,
Like the whole point of their vocation
Is not to help people,
Not only when they need it most, but at all!

Sardonically, I laugh at it now,
How very hard I tried, and was happy to try, to be in this field also,
Because no matter what the cost to my current emotions,
I always told myself, just do this really well so you can be a nurse,
So you can help people.
Each time my life was hard I told myself it’s okay because the end result is that I’ll get to be a nurse to help people.
To help people.
It’s just so funny right? Because the nurse I saw didn’t want to help me!
And I know they’re not all like that,
There are good nurses, good doctors (I hope - I’ve heard if you’re lucky you’ll find one someday),
But I can’t stomach how you could go through all that effort to help someone,
To then be so inconsiderate and futile.

And around about here,
I tell myself again that I’m probably a horrible person,
Because I know not to paint everyone with the same brush, there are good and bad people in everything,
But if I have child one day in the distant future, would I want them to be okay with this?
With the ******* and insufficient “care” I’ve endured,
No. And I would even like to think I would scream it from the rooftops,
But I’m not that audacious or loud enough,
And frankly it’s scary,
Terrifying as hell because while you look at your health care system and see:
Trustworthy, compassionate and caring,
I see: fear and a hierarchy that will never hold you high enough to be heard,
Once one doctor’s said it’s because of your mentality
None of the others will look at you twice unless it’s to see into your psyche and not your physical body.

So part of me may half heartedly deny this when it comes to speaking out about this,
But this is not okay,
And this is not only for me to get the words out somewhere,
But for every other person like me, who didn’t get what they deserved from those supposed to help us,
It is not your fault,
And maybe one day in the long and distant future that we may or may not see,
(Because change takes a long time and not because we’ll die from misdiagnosis - that’s a bit dramatic,
Although accurate for some unfortunate people)
All of us together, we can make a difference.
This is a fight that I never thought I’d be a part of,
A war I never knew or acknowledged existed,
And one day, I want to say that I haven’t lost every single battle of this never ending war.
So I ended up writing a poem about a poem I wrote a few days ago. This shows my thoughts on posting that poem (‘Medical Trauma’) so I hope you don’t hate me and my opinions, but this is raw and real and the better part of me (I think?) tells me that this needs to be said.
Every day’s a torture I just can’t escape,
Just knowing I will never get closure,
And even if I were to
It would never be okay,
Because I’ve this trauma they’ve forced me into,
This box they’ve shut me into:
Psychosomatic, anxious - don’t believe her,
No one can help me, no one wants to.
I know even if this all disappears
I’ll still feel like this, because it’s still happened,
They still have let me down,
Telling me it’s caused by nonexistent trauma,
While they’re the ones who abuse their power,
Tearing me down one by one,
Making me scared of anyone who could ever help me,
Because I know that they won’t and they’ll think I’m silly.
Now I just want to get rid of me,
I can’t stand it
Anymore,
It’s like every
Step I take,
I’m asking for more agony,
From people destined to
Never take me
Seriously.

Even I want to
Throw myself away.
It’s not okay.
Carl D'Souza Aug 1
When I feel sick,
I don’t understand
all the complex details
of medical-science,
so I have to trust a doctor
to cure me;
but I trust with trepidation
because doctors are human
and so unomniscient and fallible;

I do my best
to apprise myself
of the medical-science
about my health-condition
so I do not have to blindly-rely
on the doctor,
and so I can make wise choices
about my healthcare
to optimise my health, joy and happiness.
rosaline Jul 28
i got an icee in the ER
it was my blood stream
now my bloods' green
shoot me
im gonna die with a slushy

everyday i take a pill
will i ever heal?
is this life or is nothing real?
now im a zombie
and everybody loves me

draining
but it's draining
and everything feels so degrading
in without a warranty, they're coming for me
but they're never there for me
brain spill
Rei Coman Jul 18
Give me an address
of someone who cares.

Give me the referral
to make them let me in.

Give me the money
to pay them for caring.

I’m begging you, pleading:

Give me what it takes
to make the pain go away.
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