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Acetaminophen/paracetamol has a hard stop upper dose limit, above which it becomes extremely toxic.
That limit is 4g (8 “extra strength” (500mg) tablets) in 24 hours (about 2 tablets every 6 hours).
A single dose of 22 extra strength tablets can kill you.
Taking 12 or more tablets per day for more than a week can also kill you (this is about 3 tablets every 6 hours).
Symptoms of overdose take up to 24 hours to manifest, and are fairly difficult to distinguish from other problems. They include abdominal pain (especially right upper quadrant), nausea, malaise, and confusion.
The antidote (n-acetylcystine) must be given within 8hours of ingestion in order to be useful.
After 10 hours the only thing that will work is a liver transplant.
You might think “why would I ever accidentally take so much?”
Well, acetaminophen is in almost everything in the cold/flu/pain aisle. Migraine combos like Excedrin, cold and flu combos like NyQuil, basically anything that says “non-aspirin pain relief”, and anything that’s branded as a fever reducer. It’s all probably acetaminophen/paracetamol.
So the goal of this post is to get you to read the labels on your medications. Because taking taking Tylenol and NyQuil together for a week (like you might if you had the flu) could kill you.
Please don't forget this shit, after it happened to a family member, he died 8 years later because of the continuing health complications even though he survived the initial overdose
I didn't know this for years, and I took so many pills, sometimes 4 at one go, every four hours, like 16 a day, because of endometriosis and migraines. It took a migraine specialist to explain rebound headaches and overdoses when I was in my 40s. Then I went cold turkey on all OTC drugs to get off the cycle. Please, please, if a couple tylenol aren't working for you, talk to your doctor or find one who will listen to you if you can.
ALSO. Drinking alcohol exacerbates the risk of acetaminophen toxicity. Your liver can’t clear the acetaminophen as effectively if it’s also processing alcohol. Pls don’t mix alcohol and acetaminophen/paracetamol.
Estudio de vestuarios de Eames, el falsificador (Tom Hardy) en Inception, 2010. Vestuario y props a través de los diferentes escenarios de los sueños y locaciones.
From the Nashville Zoo’s fb page! Here’s the petition, please please please take a moment to add your name (even if you’re not from Nashville!). If you are from Tennessee, contact your representatives and make it clear that the people do not want this data center. This is an AZA accredited zoo which is home to several species of critically endangered animals, we NEED to protect it. Make your voice heard!
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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I have been informed that it's "weird" to be able to remember and recognise the names of band members almost immediately after getting into a new band. I call bullshit.
how long does it take you to learn, remember and recognise band members by name?
one google search
I watch interviews to learn their names, can recognise them quickly after that
I have to be immersed in the fandom to learn and remember their names
its been 84 years..... I still don't know their names.
If Your Scene Feels Lifeless, Someone Is Being Too Polite
Stories stall when everyone behaves. Real tension appears when someone:
• asks the wrong question
• says something they shouldn’t
• notices something uncomfortable
• refuses to drop the topic
• misunderstands something important
• interrupts at the worst moment
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The shop was dead. The only person in sight, was lying on one of the padded tables, phone in hand. ”Oh, shit. Hey.” The guy got off the table. ”Wasn't expecting anyone today. What can I do for you?”
Buck looked to the front of the shop. At the sign that said we're open! and the letters on the window saying walk-ins welcome!
”Bodymod convention. Half my staff is there.”
”Oh.”
”So. Looking for a new tattoo?” the guy asked, eyes roving over every piece of exposed skin on Buck's body.
”Do you sell bioflex?”
He paused for a fraction of a second, eyes settling on Buck's face; quick glance at his ears, then back. ”We do. My piercer is out, but I think I can manage,” he smirked. He had two sets of dimples. One pair was natural, the second due to cheek piercings. ”What are you looking for?”
The jewellery display was massive. ”I got injured a couple of weeks ago. They said I could keep mine in for the imaging, but I got to thinking, it'll probably happen again and I don't have any retainers.”
The guy frowned. ”What do you do, since you expect injuries?”
”Oh, I'm a firefighter.”
The guy looked him up and down. Again. ”Well.” He looked over the display. ”Glass retainers are best, but not always possible. But if imaging is your concern, you can just switch to titanium. Unless you're being ripped off, titanium is implant grade. It's on the expensive side, but safety wise, it's worth it.”
Buck took in the visible piercings on the guy's face. ”Are yours titanium?”
”Mine are steel. I prefer the weight. Titanium is a different experience. Light weight. Some people like that.”
Buck moved his tongue stud around. He couldn't imagine it weighing less than it did now. ”Maybe I'm overthinking it. Maybe it won't be an issue.” He sighed. ”I am accident prone, though.”
”What're you working with? Got a hardware store under there?” He nodded at Buck's clothes.
Buck laughed. ”Nah, nothing like that. I took most of them out. I've got tongue, nipples, stomach and dick.”
”Nice.” He said it so deadpan, Buck snorted.
”I might need to think about this,” Buck said.
”That's cool. I don't think we're planning on moving anytime soon.”
Buck looked wistfully at the wall of jewellery. ”I didn't used to be able to enter a place like this and not get something.”
”I've got time, if you want it.”
Buck looked at him for a beat. ”Are you enabling me?”
”I'm running a business.”
”Do you have flash?”
The flash was gorgeous. Better than anything Buck currently had on his body. All the flash sheets were signed, with a loopy Tommy in the corner.
Buck picked a flower. There was a wide variety of motifs, but the flowers called to him. California poppy Tommy explained. The state flower. Buck wasn't sure he was staying for good, but he'd had a good time so far. It was fitting to have something to remember it by.
”Alright, Evan, take your pants off.” Buck didn't introduce himself. He'd handed over his ID and Tommy called him what was printed on it. It was novel. He didn't know anyone who called him by his first name anymore. He hadn't heard from his sister in years.
Together they found a suitable gap on Buck's thigh. The stencil was small. Tommy had probably drawn it with a woman in mind. It was the kind of size that would fit perfectly on a dainty wrist or maybe a hip. Tommy's linework was bold, but he still managed to make the petals look dainty.
”How's that?”
Buck looked in the mirror. Usually, he let the artist (or person (it was usually just a person who happened to own a machine)) do what they wanted. Buck wasn't an artist; he didn't have the eye for it.
”Looks good.”
”Now's your chance to move it or change your mind,” Tommy said.
”No, no, this is good. I like it.”
Buck spent the next hour and a half being groped by Tommy's gloves. They kept a conversation going, but Buck was somewhere up in the ether. He hadn't eaten recently and he also hadn't been tattooed in over a year. His brain felt like soup. Good soup, but soup. Most of his concentration was focused on not getting hard. All that buzzing and groping so close to his dick was working for him.
”That doesn't look too happy,” Tommy commented, water bottle halfway to his mouth.
Buck glanced at his stomach, where he'd hiked up his shirt in an attempt to cool down. He poked the barbell in his bellybutton. ”Was hoping I could keep it, but my uniform is fucking with it. My belt sits right on top of it.”
”That sucks,” Tommy said, and snapped on a new pair of gloves.
”Just as well,” Buck sighed. ”With my luck, I'd rip it out on a call. Maybe it's for the best.” Some days it felt like the job was slowly chiselling away who he was. He'd fought tooth and nail to figure out who he was. As much as he liked the job, it didn't always feel like there was room for him.
But he didn't lament about that to Tommy.
.
Buck spent the healing period petting the hairless spot on his thigh, that didn't stay hairless for long. The tattoo healed like a dream, and Bobby was none the wiser.
It wasn't an actual concern. Buck didn't know if Bobby had an opinion on what he did with his body, outside of looking presentable at work. Still, it felt like the smart thing to do.
Once it stopped smarting, Buck kind of forgot about it. About the tattoo and the piercing jewellery. He'd found Tommy on Instagram, but it was a business account. All the fresh tattoos on the grid, the flash offered in his stories and the announcements for open bookings bled into all the other tattoo accounts Buck followed.
Being a firefighter was more time-consuming than he thought it would be. The twenty-four hour shifts wrecked havoc on his routine, and on his body. He had to retire the bellybutton piercing.
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