Will Dwayne Johnson Return To WWE In 2025?

Okay, picture this: a chaotic room, the monitor beeping, and a pulse that suddenly comes back — the return of spontaneous circulation (ROSC) algorithm is what turns that gut-level relief into organized care. I’ve seen it steer teams from frantic compressions to targeted treatment, step by step. First things first, it reminds you to confirm and document ROSC (pulse, blood pressure, EtCO2 rise) and record the time — that timestamp is gold for everything that follows. Then the algorithm sorts immediate priorities: secure the airway, optimize breathing without hyperoxia (aim for SpO2 92–98%), get a 12-lead ECG within minutes, and check if the rhythm suggests an immediate coronary intervention (ST-elevation → urgent PCI). It also pushes for hemodynamic stability — titrate fluids and vasopressors to a MAP goal (usually about 65 mmHg), monitor EtCO2 and capillary refill, and consider advanced monitoring if available. Parallel to that, you treat reversible causes — the classic Hs and Ts (hypoxia, hypovolemia, hydrogen ion, hypo/hyperkalemia, tension pneumothorax, tamponade, toxins, thrombosis) — which the algorithm reminds teams not to forget. Beyond the first hour, the algorithm nudges toward neuroprotection and prognostication: targeted temperature management for comatose patients (commonly 32–36°C), controlled ventilation, glucose control, seizure monitoring, and avoiding fever. It also highlights timing: get coronaries assessed within minutes if indicated, plan ICU transfer, document interventions and family communication, and delay definitive neuro-prognosis until after rewarming and sedation washout. For me, the value isn’t just the checklist — it’s how it creates a shared mental model so everyone knows the next move when adrenaline fades and critical decisions matter most.

When a patient goes from pulseless to pulsing again in the middle of a chaotic scene, everything suddenly slows down for me — that split second of relief is wrapped in a checklist. The return of spontaneous circulation algorithm acts like a playbook: first, confirm ROSC with a pulse check and a rise in end-tidal CO2, then stabilize what's fragile. Practically I’m juggling oxygenation, ventilation, and blood pressure right away. I’ll titrate oxygen so the patient isn’t hyperoxygenated, secure the airway as needed, and make sure capnography is showing meaningful numbers because the waveform tells you a lot faster than a stethoscope. Meanwhile I’m aiming for a systolic blood pressure that keeps the brain perfused — usually above about 90–100 mmHg — using fluids or a vasopressor drip if available. The next chunk of steps is diagnostic and strategic: a 12-lead ECG as soon as practical to look for STEMI, decide whether the patient needs a direct-to-PCI center route, and treat reversible causes (the usual Hs and Ts). Temperature management is on the radar — discussions about targeted temperature management happen early, though active prehospital cooling has mixed evidence. Throughout I’m communicating with the receiving hospital, documenting times and interventions, and trying to hand over a clear story so their team can hit the ground running.

Oh man, names like David Wexler always send me down a rabbit hole — there are a few creatives with that name, so the quick thing I’ll say up front is: it depends which David Wexler you mean. That said, I dug through the usual places (social feeds, festival slates, IMDb entries that were public by mid-2024) and here’s the sensible, hopeful picture for 2025. If you mean the filmmaker-type David Wexler, there wasn’t a big, universally publicized studio slate for 2025 as of mid-2024, but his pattern suggests a mix of festival-focused indie features and genre shorts. I’d expect he’d be either finishing post-production on a film that will tour festivals in early-to-mid 2025 or directing a smaller, more experimental project — directors at that scale often pivot between narrative features, branded content, and teaching/masterclass gigs. It’s also common to see such creators attached as producers on other indie projects, helping lift smaller directors while prepping their own next film. If you meant a David Wexler who’s a writer, podcaster, or musician, similar logic applies: look for new books, a serialized podcast season, or an EP crowdfunded in late 2024 for a 2025 release. The practical route I use: follow verified social accounts, check IMDbPro or a publisher’s page, and watch festival lineups (Sundance, Tribeca, SXSW) and trade sites like Deadline and Variety for official announcements. If you want, tell me which David Wexler you had in mind and I’ll narrow it down and hunt for links — I love this sort of sleuthing.

Okay, here's my enthusiastic pile of online romance things you should try in 2025 — I’ve been bingeing way too many late-night chapters and these kept popping up in my recommendations. First, for lush, slow-burn fantasies try 'The Remarried Empress' and 'SubZero' if you like palace politics mixed with star-crossed feelings; both give that delicious court intrigue plus tension. For modern, slice-of-life sweet hits, check out 'True Beauty' and 'I Love Yoo' — they’re messy, real, and the awkward first-confession moments are chef’s-kiss. If you crave a romcom with gamer culture and meta jokes, I can’t stop suggesting 'Let's Play' and a few newer webcomics that riff on streaming culture and indie game dev romance. If you want a darker, redemption-arc vibe, hunt down some translated web novels and indie works on platforms like Royal Road and Wattpad where authors experiment with found-family + enemies-to-lovers arcs. I’ve also been enjoying short serialized romances on Substack — they feel like letters. Honestly, mix-and-match: a palace romance, a workplace romcom, and a slow fantasy will cover any mood. I’m off to read one more chapter, but seriously, try one from each vibe and tell me which hook snagged you first.

Man, I've been rewatching all the Marvel movies lately, and Agent Hill's absence in recent films has been gnawing at me. Maria Hill was such a grounding force in the chaos—competent, no-nonsense, and always one step ahead. Her 'death' in 'Secret Invasion' felt abrupt, but this is comics we're talking about! Fake-outs and resurrections are practically tradition. Plus, Cobie Smulders has such great chemistry with the cast; it'd be a waste not to bring her back for at least one more team-up. Maybe as a Skrull imposter reveal? Or a flashback in 'Avengers: Kang Dynasty'? The multiverse leaves so many doors open. Honestly, I'd love to see her mentor younger agents like Kate Bishop or even lead a Thunderbolts-style squad. She carried so much untapped potential—especially if they explore Nick Fury's past projects. Fingers crossed Kevin Feige has a surprise up his sleeve. Until then, I'll just keep replaying that badass 'Winter Soldier' bridge scene where she outsmarts Hydra.

Honestly, 2025 read like a call to arms for dystopian fiction — authors I’d been loosely tracking sharpened their pens and delivered books that stuck to my ribs. What stood out for me were writers who mixed immediate, tech-saturated plausibility with old-school social pressure: Paolo Bacigalupi returned to the grimy ecological corners and reminded me how scarcity changes human nature, while Lauren Beukes leaned harder into near-future surveillance and pop-culture decay, making her scenes feel like scrolling through a fever dream. Claire North and Naomi Alderman both used tight, character-driven narratives to probe how systems warp empathy, and Jeff VanderMeer kept the weird alive but focused his strangeness through suffocating bureaucracies rather than pure ecological horror. I also loved seeing structural experiments from younger writers who blurred memoir, reportage, and speculative worldbuilding — those debut names from lit mags and small presses whose novels felt like compressed essays about climate migrants, gig-economy labor, and algorithmic caste systems. Jeannette Ng and Malka Older pushed political satire into genuine dread, while Ling Ma’s successors explored diaspora and technology in new ways I hadn’t seen before. What tied the best books together was a refusal to be merely cautionary: they wanted readers to live in their worlds for a while, to feel both wonder and moral vertigo. If you’re trying to build a 2025 reading list, mix the established voices above with a few indie debuts from small presses — those are where the freshest risks live, and they rounded out my year in the most satisfying way.

Returning a Kindle book after reading it is definitely a hot topic! You can return a Kindle book if you've purchased it within the last seven days and it hasn't been downloaded. This policy can be a lifesaver because sometimes we discover that the book just isn’t what we hoped for after diving into it. But here's the catch – if you've read a good chunk of the book or finished it, it might be harder to justify a return unless you have a valid reason. Personally, I’ve gone through phases where I felt compelled to return some titles that didn’t meet my expectations, and while it felt a bit guilty, I appreciated having the option. Just keep in mind that it’s good to use this feature sparingly to not risk an account flag! Also, if you wind up returning several books in a short period, it might raise flags with Amazon. So, if it does happen, make sure to have a solid reasoning in your mind, like issues with the formatting or genuine dissatisfaction with the story. Happy reading!

This topic brings back some interesting memories. Audiobooks have become such a fascinating and accessible way to enjoy stories. Many services offer a range of audiobooks, but the return policies can really vary. If you're using a platform like Audible, for example, they typically have a good return policy that allows you to return an audiobook if you’ve finished listening to it within 365 days after purchase. Sounds generous, right? But there’s a catch—you have to return it for a legitimate reason, like if you didn’t enjoy it. I once returned a popular title that left me feeling underwhelmed, and I was pleasantly surprised by how easy it was. Just a few clicks and I had my credits back, ready for the next epic tale! On the other hand, local libraries offer audiobooks that can generally be returned within a set timeframe, usually about two or three weeks, depending on their policies. This is great because you can borrow multiple titles and explore different genres without any cost, but it also means you have to keep an eye on those deadlines. I remember racing through 'The Night Circus' because I didn't want to miss the return date. So thrilling! Plus, libraries often have the latest titles too, which is a bonus. In any case, whether you're renting or buying, it’s crucial to check the specific terms for the platform or service you’re using. I’ve had my share of flops and favorites, and knowing my options has helped me navigate the audiobook world with confidence. Knowing I can return a title keeps the experience exciting and less stressful, allowing me to dive into new stories without the worry of being stuck with one I don't love. Now let’s consider a different take on this. For some people, audiobooks are almost like an investment in time, right? If you really enjoyed the listening experience, you might be tempted to extend that enjoyment by revisiting those titles over and over. But if you spend that time and end up disliking a book, returning it can feel complicated. Some people feel guilty about returning an audiobook, as if it somehow diminishes the experience for the authors or narrators. It’s a tricky balance for them—wanting to support creators but not wanting to waste their valuable time on something they’re not fully invested in. For those who are busy, like parents or students, returns can quickly create stress. They might forget to return it on time, leading to unexpected late fees or the dreaded consequence of not being able to borrow more until they return the current titles. That’s tough! So hearing different perspectives really reveals how this process of returning audiobooks can impact various listeners differently, depending on their situation and values. I think it all comes down to personal preference and how deeply we value our experiences with these narrated adventures. In the end, each audiobook is a story waiting to be told, and whether you keep it or send it back, you’re part of a much larger narrative journey.