okay but hear me out, demonic possession would be a really good diagnostic tool. Especially for illnesses like fibromyalgia that are hard to test for and have “subjective” symptoms (like, you can’t externally measure pain and fatigue, and someone who’s had it all their life won’t always know it’s not normal.) You just draw a nice pentagon, set up all the protective candles, and summon a demon into the patient’s body and ask them the sacred Questions Three, which are “okay Demon Todd how bad is it in there,” “where are the main places that hurt more than the last thirty humans you possessed” and “got any wisdom to share?” and then you give Todd a beer and politely excise him from this material plane and start drafting your new treatment plan.
it’s actually a diagnostic clinic only because last time they tried an innovative treatment it blew a hole in the ceiling and all the streetlights on Market Street glowed green for two weeks and when that kind of thing happens people with clipboards and crucifixes start to show up and poke around in your cupboards and ask what all the pentagrams are for
michael sheen beautifully illustrating a weekend on-call in ITU
top L: watching the theatre team wheel a laparotomized GOMER into the unit
top R: treating yourself to a post-wardround coffee and minesweeping ALL the snacks in the staff room
mid L: watching a morbidly obese chronically dialysing respiratory cripple’s MAP falling and wondering where on earth you’re going to site a CVC
mid R: ‘oh hey can you come to the resp ward and see this 92 year old with an ex-tol of half a step and an ejection fraction of 7%…no she doesn’t have a DNAR…we think she should be for everything…also her family is really angry’
bottom L: when the boss says “are you happy if i go home” at 10.07h
bottom R: ‘hi it’s ED, we’ve got a pre-alert OOHA. ETA 3 minutes’
Let’s imagine that Aziraphale was totally besotted with all the Fred Astaire & Ginger Rogers movies when they came out, and let’s imagine Crowley put in his best efforts to recreate a little Heaven on the dancefloor.
One of my geek culture holy grails, which I have never been
able to find online, in an age when I’ve been told anything is available online: when Doctor Who was initially shown in the US on PBS in
the late 1970s and early 1980s, they included introductions to each episode by
Diana Rigg, filmed in a studio, describing the episode you were about to see. They were very similar to the ones Diana Rigg gave before Inspector Morse or Poirot episodes later on.
Diana Rigg was visibly drunk in them, with the testy,
annoyed expression of someone who didn’t want to be there. But either because
she was drunk, or didn’t care, or (most likely) given a bad script, her introductory
summary of the episode had absolutely no
resemblance to the episode you were about to watch. It was like every
episode of this era opened with a drunk and annoyed Diana Rigg telling you a
strange, rambling, detached story of her own, that was in no way like the
episode you were about to see. It was extraordinary.
One of her more lucid summaries was that the Cybermen were returning to
their own home planet of Voga to destroy it before it could be used against
them. I suppose that’s…sort of…like the plot of “Revenge of the Cybermen”, in
much the same way that taking your friend out for a nice drive is “sort of like” ramming
your friend with your car, in that the same three things are there in both
stories, but they’re doing different things.
I love that I have this little creature in my house and all she does is walk around looking for a new place to take a nap and stare out the window and throw up on my floor and I’m like I would Die for this creature. she is perfect. and I tell her I love her and in return she has no thoughts whatsoever
thank you everyone for loving my beautiful baby girl I told her she was famous on the internet and she just stared at me as her single brain cell bounced around her peanut brain