#phlebotomy levels

[nursingassistantsrock]

PCT's Students Go On to Become Nurses and Physicians

Phlebotomy Career Training (PTC) is a leading US medical health career institute offering students various online and in-class courses. The mission is to provide passionate students with different medical career certifications they can seek without any prior educational or professional background and work as certified healthcare professionals. PCT students also go on to become nurses and…

[rezwrites]

Since we are in October… is there any chance you could write a Vampire!Agatha x reader?  Agatha finding the most delicious blood of her entire long life (Reader’s blood) and getting excited/horny when she drinks Reader’s blood

love your writing

thank you sm!!

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, TW needles/blood/phlebotomy/venipuncture, blood kink, violence, allusion to kidnapping, non consensual thigh riding, unconsciousness

a/n: sry for going overboard with this, but vampire!hematologist!Agatha was so fun to write, I had to make a moodboard! <3

Waiting in the hematologists office you wring your fingers with nervousness, simultaneously regretting not bringing a light jacket to combat the chill of the air conditioner. You’ve heard nothing but good things about this doctor, hoping for some form of a miracle after cycling through many specialists only to come up empty-handed. It’s worth the out-of-city drive if you get some answers this time.

The nurse calls your name, taking you back to an examination room. As the nurse takes your temperature and vitals, you explain what’s been going on, going through routine questions. After jotting everything down, she orders a quick blood test to test your levels. Leaving to retrieve her equipment you lied down as she instructed.

Turning your head you refused to see what was happening as she tied the tourniquet around your upper arm, the strong sting of the alcohol wipe wafting through your nose. Wincing at the poke of the needle entering your vein, you exhale deeply. The nurse patches you up, gathering the vials. You thank the nurse after she lets you know the doctor will be in soon, leaving the room.

Anxiety rises up again as you await the results, trying your best to keep your breathing steady. Running your eyes over the walls, you read the various degrees and accolades framed. It blew your mind that this woman has fifteen years of school under her belt, being a doctor is definitely not for the faint of heart. A sudden rapping on the door brings you out of your thoughts.

“Hello, I’m Dr. Harkness.” She steps into the room, casting a soft, comforting smile. Her wavy, brunette hair tied in a bun, some loose stands falling over her white coat. Closing the door, she sat on her chair.

“Well, your blood pressure was a little lower than it should be. Lab results showed that you have a decreased amount of red blood cells causing Anemia. Now, if it’s a sudden loss of blood somewhere or an underlying illness, we don’t know yet. It honestly astounds me how those other doctors failed to see this for so long.”

“From time to time I’ll wake up with a sore neck or wrist. And my problems will arise after that.” You added. She looks at you intently, cerulean eyes full of concern. Turning to her computer she started typing everything you had said into her system.

“Mhm and when was the last time you woke up like that?” She questioned.

“A few days ago.”

“And you said you noticed all this happening after you gave blood at a blood drive a few months ago.” She asked.

“Yes,” you confirmed. Finally, some form of an answer and one step closer to a treatment plan. It all hit you at once, there was no way to stop the floodgates.

She turned away from her computer, closing your chart, “I’d like to keep you overnight to observe your condition.”

Her face turned in worry and the sight of your tears, “Oh dear, I understand it’s scary.” She grabbed some tissues off the counter offering them to you.

Taking them you shook your head, drying your eyes, “I’m more relieved to have more or less an answer.”

She pulls some documents from the drawer, explaining that’s it’s a consent to overnight admittance form, “Don’t worry, I’ll give you a note for work if you need one, but it is imperative we get to the bottom of this as soon as possible.”

You nod, signing the paperwork before she put a patient wristband on you. Directing you to follow her she leads you deeper into the building, the atmosphere becoming more homey and welcoming, “This is where I keep my overnight patients, it’s more relaxed and calming than a hospital.”

Opening a wooden door there was a single bed with a television mounted on the wall. A small restroom in the corner and a medical cabinet next to the hallway door. She pulled a medical gown from the cabinet, instructing you to change, then lie down on the bed before exiting to give you privacy.

Re-entering the room she placed an IV bag on the counter moving towards the bed, “I’ll just hook you up to the monitor. I’ll also put you on an IV drip for the night as well, so you can get the vitamins you’ve been missing.” She clips the pulse oximeter to your finger, walking over to the cabinet against the wall grabbing everything she needs.

Once Agatha turned around with the needle in her hand, you turned your head away holding out your arm. Prepping and cleaning the crook of your arm, she warns you, “Small pinch.”

“Good girl.” Agatha praises slipping the cannula into your arm, securing it with tape connecting you to the cannula hanging the bag on the IV hook behind the bed, “here’s the remote for the television, press the call button if you need anything. I’ll be back soon to check on you.”

Dr. Harkness checked on you multiple times throughout the afternoon, making sure you were comfortable and not in any pain. She took another blood sample telling you she just wanted to see if your red blood cell count has increased. You’re truly thankful for her thoroughness and thoughtfulness. The warmth of the evening sun seeping through the small window of your room was causing you to grow drowsy, despite your earnest to stay awake in case anything came up. Unable to keep your eyes open any longer you texted your family, updating them before dozing off.

A soft knock on the door pulls you back into consciousness. Turning on the lamp you called out allowing the person on the other side to come in. Dr. Harkness steps through the door apologizing for the intrusion so late. Her hair loose, coat gone; a different air around her.

“So, good news I know exactly what’s wrong with you.” Agatha starts explaining, striding to the end of the bed, hands in her pants pockets. You listen close to what she has to say.

“Bad news is I’m not exactly going to help you.” She states matter of factly. You blanched at her words, heartbeat quickening. Eyebrows pulled together as you sat up, pressing your back deeper into the pillows.

“I mean, of course, I want you to be as healthy as possible don’t get me wrong, but I found the perfect snack in you at that blood drive.” Fear gripping you as Agatha stepped closer to the bed, her sinister smile showing her fangs, “I settled for rationing twice a month on you, but now that you’re here, I’d be a fool to let you get away this time.”

The room was now energized with malevolence. This woman, monster, was the cause of your problems. Why you can’t get out and enjoy your life anymore because you’re so dizzy and tired to do anything. Balling your fist, fingernails digging into your palms; knuckles turning white, “And when the police come? People know I’m here, if I don’t come home they’ll-”

“Easy. You went out the back where no cameras are, it’s easier to get to the parking lot that way than circling the whole building again. What happened after that nobody would have a clue.” Agatha countered, her smile was sickening, your stomach flipping.

“Even if, small if by the way, you managed to escape and get help who would believe that the good Dr. Harkness, was a vampire.” She started laughing in disbelief.

You eyes shifted between her and the door. Throwing the blanket off you you attempt to jump out of the bed, but Agatha was on you in a second wrestling you back down to the bed. Managing to get an arm free you landed a solid punch to her jaw, the pulse oximeter flying off your finger. Paralyzed with terror when her smile grew, completely unfazed by your punch, her eyes maniacal., “It’s just us here, feel free to scream all you want.”

As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t. Not a sound would come out. Pinning both your wrists in one hand, her other hand sliding off her slacks.

“I believe I got your neck last time,” her knees pushing up your gown as she shuffled up your body. Letting out a pleased sigh Agatha settled herself on your thigh.

Bringing one wrist to her mouth she didn’t waste any time sinking her fangs into you. The sharp, piercing pain elicited a cry from you, tears falling down your face. Agatha’s cold hand held your wrist tightly as she sucked roughly, hips rocking frantically.

“Absolutely divine.” Agatha growled out her ruby eyes holding yours as blood ran down your arm and her chin. She licks the blood running down your arm, her thighs tightening around yours. Tossing her head back as she shudders on top of you moan loudly, “Always so delicious.”

Your breaths grow shallow, everything is cold as you stare at the gray ceiling. A small whine escapes you, vision blurring as you teeter on the brink of consciousness.

“That’s it. Rest easy now.” Agatha voice is fading, “you’re going to need it.”

[hannahbarberra162]

Ik the initial one-shot wasn't yandere, so ignore if this is annoying lol but the murder attempt might be a good point for those types of feelings to start developing. You're still a resource before anything else, but there's still a... shift afterward. Marco is much kinder to you than you expected him to be when you're terrified to start "donating" once more- sighing and rubbing your back while you blubber hysterically about being left alone in that room again. He's familiar with PTSD and it helps if you've been obedient up until this point. He'd made it clear you wouldn't be hurt if you obeyed, and you did, but you were nearly killed regardless. This isn't your fuck up. He's responsible. Considers moving the equipment to a different room, but assigning crewmates or nurses to stay with you in shifts is a much easier option. Thatch dotes on you too, if he's alive- you're getting treats, rules be damned.

It’s definitely not annoying! Yandere is one of my favorite tropes, I have to stop myself from adding it into most things I write. Even my nicer fluffier ideas make me think “hmmm but what if dark? What if kidnap???” Like for Struck Twice By Lightning (a lighter story I’m writing w/ Shanks x reader) I have an alternative yandere ending just because uh…it’s too much fun. Also, Thatch isn’t going to die, silly Nonnie. He never dies! Neither does Ace or Whitebeard or Izou or anyone else I love! Everyone is just on Laughtale, waiting for us to get there. 

ANYWAY, I love your idea Nonnie. 

~~~

You had begged Marco, truly begged him on hands and knees, to move the phlebotomy equipment to another room. Unfortunately, space was at a premium on the ship, even one as large as the Moby. The phlebotomy room had been built to unique specifications, there wasn’t anywhere else where the equipment could fit and had the right electrical connections needed to run the apheresis machine. He had a busy day ahead of him, there was a lot to do and plan after yesterday’s attack. But you were pale and shaking, afraid to go into the room, much less stay there for the six hours you needed to. Of course, he could just drag you in and sit you down, put the IV in your arm and leave. But you’d been compliant so far and he didn’t want to punish you. After all, this was his oversight in security, you hadn’t done anything wrong. Marco sighed and rubbed his temples. He’d tell Haruta to take over the meeting for now and ask Deuce to manage the infirmary. 

Crouching so he’d be at your eye level, Marco took your tear stained face in his hands. You had dark circles under your eyes, Marco knew you hadn’t slept the night before, which caused his own sleeplessness. He forced you to look at him, even though he was pretty sure you hated him in that moment. And maybe always. “Listen. I know you’re scared yoi. It’s understandable. But I can’t move the equipment, you have to be in this room. I can stay with you, if you want. Would you like that?” You averted your eyes from his face but nodded almost imperceptibly. He guessed you would have preferred Deuce, but Marco didn’t feel comfortable leaving you with anyone below Commander level. You were friendly with Thatch, maybe you’d want him to sit with you later. And Thatch had been baking up a storm for you since yesterday, baking treat after treat to try to find something you liked. Thatch wanted to get you to like his desserts, if he had to try every recipe on the Grand Line. The chef was always warm and pleasant company, getting people to relax in his presence was one of his gifts. Marco would allow the brief interruption in your strict diet if it helped you relax.

“We can take a break after one session if you’d like yoi.” You took a shuddering breath as Marco took your hand in his. Squeezing it gently, Marco walked you into the room. It had been cleaned of all the blood but the memories remained. You perched in the chair, pivoting your head every few seconds to check outside the window. Your hypervigilance was concerning even if it was justified. Marco didn’t want you to think they couldn’t keep you safe - they were a Yonko crew after all. There had been multiple fails yesterday that culminated in the assassin gaining access to you, but that wouldn’t make you feel better. Marco quickly turned on the aphoresis machine and prepared the equipment, watching you wince as the needle entered your arm. You were still squeamish, not wanting to see the needle insertion. He took a step back to check his work. Looking at you on the padded chair you were…small. Scared. Exhausted. Anxious. Marco didn’t like it, he needed to ensure his prized resource was healthy. “Would you like to hold hands? Would that make you feel better?” You nodded once again, still not speaking. Thinking back, Marco wasn’t sure you’d actually spoken since right after the attack. Marco took your clammy hand in his, noting the chewed nails and bloody cuticles. He’d heal those too, once it was time. He couldn’t let you out of your cage, but he could make it more comfortable.

[greenhappyseed]

MHA Ch.401 leak reactions

A chapter about All Might, Stain, and AFO is called “The Lunatic,” which really describes ALL OF THEM. Next there will be a chapter with the Rooftop Trio, the Origin Trio, the vestiges, and Tomura called “About A Boy.”

STAIN KNOWS ALL MIGHT BY SMELL? And goes around sniffing random blood splatters in the street?

Do you think Stain had an orgasm doing a combo attack with All Might?

AFO’s combination of “Forced Activation” and “Phlebotomy” to desanguinate himself is some next level horror shit.

Then again, AFO and All Might bleeding out for each other right after Toga and Ochako ended up the same way is poetic (romantic?)

Lol, of COURSE AFO can change his blood’s composition. That’s why his blood type and true family lineage is unknown. (Uhhh what else can he change?)

AFO MOUTH VORE! AFO MOUTH VORE!

Ok, I did not have “Stain pulls an Obi-Wan Kenobi” on my bingo card.

All Might is told to live by Stain…and by his car. Like the car thought, “Stain’s right, better make sure to emphasize that point as I lay dying.”

AFO goes back to the laser again. Very uncreative after FORCED PHLEBOTOMY.

TOSHI GETS ANOTHER SPIDER-MAN MOMENT!!!! I think his one un-shredded limb is his right arm, aka the one that goes SMASH, though he seems to be using his shattered left to help him crawl too.

But now the goo teleport quirk is in play!! Will AFO keep being distracted by All Might? Will AFO warp All Might with him this time??? And if not, is that the opening for Kurogiri, Mic, and Aizawa? (Omg, if they help carry Toshi the way Toshi carried Aizawa at USJ, my brain will break.)

[incubabe]

@ceo-of-cunning-hares [x]

"Well if you can't, you can't. Thank you for giving us your time and effort into looking. I'm not sure what is causing our score to be poor, but I will look into it immediately." She smiled courteously, composure kept and level headed, despite internally… "WHAT THE HELL!? CREDIT SCORE TOO LOW?! THAT CAN'T BE! I've been working on raising that for the last year! I'm nearly debt free! …if you don't include those 3 loans I had to take out recently…" She stood up from the chair that sat across from the Proxy, lifting her bag with her. She had one more card to try, but it was a gamble. Then again, it always was a gamble in this business. "I will just have to contact my other proxy, Phaethon, for our next endeavor. I'm sure they will be delighted to work with me again. Have a good day!" She winked and turned to walk away, waiting for a brief second to see if the bait would be taken and exceptions be made to form a business partnership. If not, then her debt will only grow with the kind proxy team…

This approach wasn't exactly subtle. Mentioning a competitor, waiting for the response... treating her like a rookie. Yes, Riley's services were reasonably late to the scene, but in her opinion, safety was a much higher priority than being first to market. Her phylactery/possession trick shouldn't work -- something about the medium of Ether allowed her to use otherwise modest synecdocheal magic to reach out and 'skill-share' over vast distances... Not that that was relevant. No, the important thing was that she was being played, and pride was threatening to supersede reason. She didn't need the Hares' business! They were unreliable and shady -- beyond the very much black market that was Hollow raiding, at that.

And yet...

"Tch. Hang on." She leaned down, pulled something out of her desk drawers. Not something: a disposable phlebotomy kit. Vacuum sealed, obsessively sterile.

"In the case that you get your credit score up, it's for the best that I have a sample prepared." I don't want to let anyone die in a Hollow. "Come here. I'll need about as much as a full blood draw, so get some orange juice and a cookie once you leave." This was an accounting firm, after all; they didn't exactly have a cool-down chair for patients.

[call-me-copycat]

JUST WITHDREW FROM MY MATH CLASS TO JOIN THE MLT PROGRAM WOOHOO!

I'm registering for spring classes and was told by my advisor that I can join the MLT (Medical Laboratory Technician) Program, and that the only math class they require is one that is two levels below the one I'm in

I was taking a super high level math class for no reason essentially (⁠ ⁠；⁠∀⁠；⁠)

And! Until January I don't have any math classes to take, so I only have 3 classes to focus on now ヽ(。ゝω・)ノ☆

Ahh, I'm so happy!

(The only downside is I have to take a small phlebotomy certification course but veins have always been my worst fear since I was little T_T)

@nonsagewitchhh

@ch33s3mam

(^^^ My friends because I don't feel like repeating this anymore so I'm going to be a bit lazy)

[clatterbane]

And, speak of the devil!

Hadn't heard anything other than from primary care since that appointment, so now I get three notifications in a row from the healthcare portal.

(With the aid of autotranslate.)

So yeah, no wonder primary care had no idea what I was talking about when I asked about maybe getting the first sample drawn while I was there, and they were already taking my blood over the anemia. (Your local vårdcentral is usually where to get any samples drawn, unless you want to go to the university phlebotomy clinic for that.)

The endo clinic is apparently planning to handle that themselves. I had no idea how to even get that taken care of, and was planning to ask my nurse there how to do the thing once Mr. C got back and could accompany me.

But yeah, they evidently want me there three (3) freaking mornings in a row, for short appointments at the equivalent of 2 or 3 A.M. for my nocturnal ass. At least it is the endo clinic here in town, but it takes longer to get there from the parking building than they are likely to keep me.

The plan is apparently to do a dexamethasone suppression test.

Because of the difficulty in obtaining 24-hour urine collections in many outpatients, some physicians use a l-mg overnight dexamethasone suppression test. For this test, the patient takes l mg of dexamethasone orally at 11 p.m., and the plasma cortisol level is measured at 8 a.m. the following day (normal value: 5 μg per dL or less [140 nmol per L]). The reported sensitivity of this test is 98 percent; the reported specificity is 80 percent.

So they want me to get a baseline sample drawn, take thev dexamethasone, then come back the next morning for another blood sample. The third day?

I also have some nasty suspicions about what a hefty dose of dexamethasone might do to my blood sugar, but hey. ¯\_ (ツ)_/¯ It is the specialist diabetes clinic proposing to give me the stuff.

Glancing through that web link, I am getting even more honked off at that new endo and her eyeballing judgments.

The most common symptom is sudden weight gain.3,6 Obesity, usually with a central distribution, is the most frequent sign. Any sign or symptom of cortisol excess can develop initially, but muscle weakness, bruising, hypertension, facial rounding and plethora eventually occur. Hypertension is likely to develop in patients who are more than 40 years of age.

Yeah, I know. I have quite coincidentally been there in the distant past, and it ain't much fun. (Not gonna lie, especially when this starts happening to you at 15-16.) I am currently showing zero of those symptoms other than the high blood pressure--which is not at all unusual, and only really went screwy after one particular round with COVID. I am only barely out of the Officially Underweight range again right now, on someone with this size frame to boot. I have pretty much the opposite of the insulin resistance too much cortisol will cause, and they bloody well know that.

It's not a very nice feeling when this is still evidently what immediately pops into your new doctor's mind the first time they clap eyes on you, and then they get all weird about it. When you're even there for a routine check-in over something completely different. Good thing I'll probably only have to deal with the woman once a year.

[deergravity]

soooooo happy to report that my blood draw went seamlessly today 🥰 im getting much better about remembering to drink enough water in advance! and ive got my dr sending me straight to the proper vampires, none of that entry level phlebotomy needed.

[girlfailurefelix]

Hellow!! It's a bit strange what I'm going to ask, but is medical school as difficult as they say? It's a career that I want to study in the future (I hope) 😿😿

not strange!!

so i’m actually a medical assistant/phlebotomy student atm (so not quite the mega-massively-hard doctor-level med school like you’re probably thinking) but yeah it’s a LOT of small details and memorizing (which to be fair, is VERY NECESSARY), but i actually really like it haha, and you should totally go for it if you really enjoy it

[nursingassistantsrock]

Future Of Telemetry Technician Employment

Is it wise of you to pursue a career as a Telemetry technician? Is the field of Telemetry rewarding and beneficial for you? Can you receive higher salaries or opportunities to expand your career and become employees of well-known hospitals? Here are the key pointers for everything you must know about how the Telemetry Technician employment is bound to perform in the future. Growing Demand For…

[darkworkcourier]

Hi! I’m not sure if you accept request. if so, can I request HC/Fic of all TF141 when Dr Adler finally caught them for health check-up?

If you’re not, then its okay :3 ty!! 🫶��

this is many eons late, but i'm already procrastinating my nanowrimo project soooo adler time!

this is just soap's visit for now to see if i like this style. :D

---

Patient Name: John MacTavish Callsign: Soap Rank: Sergeant D.O.B.: Redacted Heart Rate: 64 BPM Blood Pressure: 118/70

Visit Notes: Mr. MacTavish was hesitant to attend his appointment this afternoon and repeatedly asked for sedatives or alcoholic beverages in order to, quote, "cope". I informed Mr. MacTavish that sedation was not required and further illustrated the detrimental effects of alcohol on the body and brain, especially given his role in dealing with explosives and heavy machinery. Mr. MacTavish tried several excuses to leave the appointment, all of which could easily be proven false.

Given the gap between Mr. MacTavish's medical examinations, I've ordered blood work and a urine specimen lab. Despite a perfectly average blood pressure reading, I believe Mr. MacTavish may have high sodium levels given the amount of salted snacks I've personally witnessed him consuming. He agreed to the lab work, albeit with more hesitation. I have assured him several times that I have ample training in phlebotomy, but this did not seem to boost his confidence.

For his personal history questionnaire, Mr. MacTavish has family history of hypertension on his mother's side and heart disease on his father's side. His surgical history is noted in the attached file. He described his sexual activity as, "constant" and "mindblowing", to which I replied that I simply needed to know if he was sexually active and if he had several partners. He replied, after some goading, that he only had one partner as of the current date. He appeared distressed while I explained to him the importance of safe sexual activity and the potential risks of fluid exchange. After the explanation, he pleaded, quote, "Please never say any of those words to me, in that order, ever again." I told him that I trusted that, as a healthy adult, he would make good choices.

I informed Mr. MacTavish that, given his age, we would need to schedule a colonoscopy as part of routine health screenings consistent with the demands of the task force's medical plan. After some protest on Mr. MacTavish's part, I gave him a copy of Form 1723 which outlines the expectations of medical staff and the responsibilities of all personnel. However, after explaining that he would be given anaesthesia, and, quote, "the really good drugs", Mr. MacTavish seemed far more accepting of the procedure. I have added his appointment time to the calendar, and have made a note to ask other personnel for assistance in assuring that Mr. MacTavish attends the appointment.

[aquilacalvitium]

The Doctor Who episode Smith and Jones has been forever changed for me since I have experienced putting information into and retrieving information from a patient database.

The new horror of the episode isn't the plasmavore (which is technically an incorrect term, the correct term is haemovore), it's when the Judoon remove all patient information from the database.

That's several thousand patient's worth of data gone. That's GP information, appointment letters, waiting lists, allergies, blood pressure, phlebotomy, medication and more history all gone.

The good news is that each county uses it's own software so it doesn't affect the entire country's patient records but still that's a hell of a lot of information that someone now needs to replace and will likely result in patient death and/or suffering since now none of the administrators or clinicians have any of the listed information which could result in missed appointments, being prescribed medication the patient is allergic to, being given incorrect doses or treatments relative to blood pressure, oxygen levels or immunocompromisation, being placed back at the end of waiting lists with months-long waits, not being seen at all if they're house-bound and need home visits or more.

Those Judoon very likely indirectly killed hundreds of patients simply by wiping the patient records.

[slippinmickeys]

The Mesas of Deuteronilus Mensae (28/31)

Mulder took a step toward her anyway.

“What’s the experiment?” he asked.

Scully looked at him, shoulders up around her ears with tension. The noise of the dust storm outside had become a steady static of sound, of particles being blown into metal. A constant smatter of dissonance.

Finally she sighed. “The bacterium I came into contact with on your suit,” she started, “normally exists at extreme temperatures. The pit had an average temperature of -125 degrees Fahrenheit. Yet they’re functioning just fine on the rover.”

“The surface temperature of Mars can hit 70 degrees in the summer,” Mulder pointed out.

“True,” she admitted. “But it got me thinking that if it could survive at 73 degrees,” she said, referring to the base temperature of the Rover, “why couldn’t it survive at 98.6?”

Mulder could see how the dots had connected in her head, but correlation did not equal causation.

“This is a creature that feeds off of sulfur and ammonia, Scully,” he said gently. “It doesn’t need you.”

“But I’m sick, Mulder. I am.” He opened his mouth to try to calm her, but she plowed on. “I don’t feel well. And the effects of gravitational biology—zero G changes our biology on a fundamental level, Mulder. It changes our DNA. It makes bacteria more potent, more dangerous. You know this. What if this bacterium came into contact with another bacterium that hitched a ride from Earth and changed in space? What if it created a hybrid microbe? It’s been proven that bacterial cells from different species can combine into unique hybrid cells by fusing their cell walls and membranes and sharing cellular contents,including proteins and ribonucleic acid.hose are the molecules that regulate gene expression and control cell metabolism, Mulder. What if this alien bacteria is… What if it’s now feeding on me?”

“Scully,” he said, stepping forward and keeping his voice low. “You’re panicking.”

“I’m sick.”

“And we will figure it out.” He got a little closer to her. If he could touch her, he could calm her down and reassure her, he was certain. She didn’t back away. Finally, he reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. Her skin did feel warm, even through her jumpsuit. He wasn’t certain it was a fever, but it was concerning.

“Mulder, you should be in full PPE,” she said. Her voice had lost the desperate edge to it.

“If this is some kind of contagion, I’ve already been exposed. Come here.” And he pulled her into his body. She sagged into his touch.

“Tell me about your experiment,” he said after a moment.

“I’ve exposed an isolated population of the Martian bacterium to a host of bacteria that we’ve carried with us,” she started.

He thought of her quick jaunt to the lav. “I don’t think I want to know how,” he said, and he felt her small huff of a laugh.

“You don’t,” she said. “I want to see how they react to each other. It shouldn’t take long. We’ll know what’s possible in a few hours. If I need to be worried.”

“Pardon me if I’m pointing out the obvious, Scully, but you already seem to be worried.”

Her breath into his jumpsuit was humid and warm.

“I have a quicker idea,” Mulder spoke again, pulling back so he could get a look in her eyes.

They were big and blue and wet, and he wanted so badly to fall into them and drown in her. If she was sick, he wasn’t sure what he’d do, how he’d cope. But he was determined to be strong right now, because she was not.

“How does the phlebotomy queen feel about a self-stick?”

“A blood sample?” she asked.

He nodded. She pulled back, running the back of her hand under her nose. “I thought of that,” she said, sniffling. “But I didn’t want to get ahead of myself.”

They both chuckled at that.

“I think I’m too shaky to do a self-draw,” she finally said.

“I’ll do it,” Mulder said gently. “As long as you don’t judge my technique.”

XxXxXxXxXxX

She had somehow let herself get completely worked up and overwrought, the excitement of her discovery, the off-ness of not feeling well, the grip of exhaustion and the stress of the storm, and their isolation all aggregating until she was a jumble of pathos and hysteria.

What was the matter with her?

Mulder’s solution was simple and direct. If she was concerned about contagion, she should test herself. They’d know one way or the other. One step at a time.

He’d done the blood draw beautifully, had been gentle and deferential, asking her advice on the best way to do this or that, and she didn’t realize until he was done that he’d drawn her focus away from her fear and managed to calm her down without her catching on to his tactics.

They’d taken three vials worth of blood; one to run under the microscope, one to run through The Machine (a piece of NASA medical equipment that ran multiple simple diagnostic analyses), and one for further testing and experimentation, if necessary.

Mulder held up the first vial.

“Do you want me to do it?” he asked.

She felt calm now, and silly for having gotten so worked up. She was embarrassed and needed a distraction. “I’ll do it,” she said, and she took the vial from him and readied a slide, putting it into the Glove Box for a closer look.

Her nerves were tightly wound, but she moved with confidence, in her element, determined to do the science right. She clicked the light on the microscope and changed out the lens. One deep breath, and she looked into the eyepiece.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Mulder was on the edge of his seat, his nerves worn raw with concern, but unwilling to let Scully catch on to any of his internal disquiet. She needed confidence and calm and a partner to shore her up. He would wait, quietly and calmly, for Scully to do her work and tell him what she saw.

Blood thrumming, he watched as she adjusted the slide, swapped lenses, adjusted again, swapped again. And just when he was about to burst out of his skin, Scully pulled back from the microscope and gripped the lab table hard, her knuckles turning white. She inhaled and exhaled once and then turned to Mulder.

“There’s no evidence of contagion,” she said with a shaky voice. “My blood is clean.”

Mulder was up before he could tell his legs to move, and he wrapped Scully in a tight hug. She clung to him just as fiercely and he could feel her sag in relief.

“You had me worried,” he said into the silk of her hair.

“I had myself worried,” she said, her voice muffled from where her face was pressed into his chest. “But Mulder,” and with this he pulled back a little, looked down at her. “Something is going on with me, and we need to figure out what it is.”

He nodded and ran hands over her hair, tucking it behind both ears at the same time. “And we will. We’ll start right now.”

“You know how to load the sample into The Machine?” she asked him. The next course of action would be to run the second vial of blood through the small diagnostic computer, which would give them an idea of where to start depending on the results of the various analyses it ran.

“I’ve been told it’s so simple even a psychologist can do it.”

She smiled at him tiredly. “Can you load it, then? It’ll take a few hours to run. We should get some sleep.”

He nodded and leaned down to press a quick kiss to the tip of her nose. “Go get ready for bed,” he said, and took the second sample over to the lab’s computer interface.

When he was done loading it and the machine was up and running, he turned to find Scully standing in front of the larger cot on the edge of the lab, dropping her jumpsuit to pool on the floor at her feet. She stood before him in a white tank top and a pair of panties and she looked thinner than she had the last time they’d been together. Outside, a low throb of thunder rumbled.

“Take me to bed, Mulder,” she said. “Take me away from here for a little while.”

He swallowed hard and his face went hot. He stepped up to her, ran a finger slowly up the side of her bare arm. “Anywhere,” he whispered.

Later, when he lifted his head from her lap, the foggy moisture of her center plied to his chin like rich river mud, in texture, in taste, he realized where they’d gone. Back to grassy hills and expansive water. Back to the heat of the desert, to the brackish shore of the Chesapeake. She was all the flavors of home, of the Earth, her hands like a starfish in his hair, her very essence of the sea.

They’d gone back. At least for a little while.

Xx

When he awoke hours later, she was riffling through a supply cabinet with an unnerving air of hysteria, her jumpsuit pulled back over her shoulders, but the front unzipped and gaping and showing the pendulous curve of her perfect breasts.

He tried to blink the sleep out of his eyes and glanced over at The Machine, the screen of which was showing a readout that he couldn’t make out from where he lay on the cot across the room.

“Scully?” he called over to her, his voice sounding groggy and frog-like, still choked with sleep. “Is The Machine done? What does it say?

She didn’t answer, just continued to paw through the contents of one of the medical lockers. Concerned, Mulder sat up, thinking maybe she was searching for a drug, something to fix whatever it was that was wrong.

“Scully?” he said again, and then, not bothering to dress, he walked over to The Machine and rove his eyes over the results of Scully’s blood analysis. Some of the results he was familiar with, some he was not. From his base-level understanding, everything appeared to be in order.

He ran his finger down the screen and stopped near the bottom, at a line that had been highlighted with the cursor.

Quantitative (beta) human chorionic gonadotropin level: 153,767 mIU/mL, it read.

The hair on the back of his neck stood on end. He turned slowly to Scully, who had risen from the cabinet, holding several small bottles in her hand.

“Scully,” he said once more, and she slowly turned to him. He pointed to the screen. “What does this mean?”

Her nostrils flared and she looked him dead in the eye.

“I’m pregnant,” she said.

[etlu-yume]

I really ought to finish these damn Transferrin Saturation paper notes but I'm struggling with the line-by-line horror stories of how fucked up it is.

Like phew I don't even know what's worse:

• Transferrin Saturation as an indicator of Hepcidin production (oop)

• >50% Transferrin Saturation exposure associated with joint symptoms

• High Transferrin Saturation (>50%) also associated with the appearance of NTBI (Non-transferrin bound iron), which is likely linked to things like *organ damage*

• Therapeutic Phlebotomy treatment linked to an INCREASED iron absorption after procedures because (somehow. I haven't found exactly HOW yet) it decreases Hepcidin production.

It's such a fucking hot mess like what do we even DO with this information??? There's no hepcidin synthetics from a few (admittedly quick) googles (I *did* check the clinical trials website and nothing of interest/help). The paper in question talks about how a Melbourne study suggests that it may be more beneficial to *NOT* treat mild cases of iron overload. Which I find wild because the same paper also points out that a low ferritin does not mean you have a low transferrin saturation, and it's exposure to a high TS% over a long period of time that seems to be associated with worsening symptoms (particularly joint pain, ability to do work, athletic ability, and libido).

From my brief googles, there's no easy lab tests for Hepcidin. There's no easy lab tests for NTBI. These are things that could be doing who-knows-what and we can't even tell.

Add to it the whole Estradiol/Hepcidin link and it just all is an absolutely hot mess and do not like the implications of where this leads nor the fact that it seems very few people in research world have looked at this. (I'm not surprised. I'm not fucking surprised. They love to run with the myth that women with haemochromatosis are protected by their periods. In the words of a specialist I absolutely loathed, "you're self medicating with periods". Yeah. Sure. Tell that to my 18 year old self. Tell that to anyone who either knowingly or unknowingly is taking a Contraceptive Pill that has iron tablets instead of sugar placebos. [Because I only just found out THAT is a thing. I was always so worried about what's in the hormone tablets, but this was a whole new level of 'wot'].)

I'm rambling because I keep stopping every couple of sentences. This paper goes hard. Sure it's not perfect and there's a lot of unanswered questions too but there's plenty of food for thought and ooooh boy I'm sorry Dr Haemotologist Sir, it's gonna be one hell of an introduction session.

[queerlyhalloween]

enough about english North/ South divide time to talk about Welsh North/ South divide

Gender services located in Cardiff (south) cos thats the capital city and thats where the money is, everything rolling along smooth, get my appointment, have my 1hr zoom call that's all cool, she sends me my blood test forms almost immediately

Ring my shit fucking GP (north) to say "hey i have these blood test forms can i get a blood test please?" Why "base hormones levels and to test me for PCOS" we dont do that. Either ring the hospital phlebotomy department or go private -_- (there are basically no other GPs in the area [no money for the north unless its making shit nice for the tourists] so i dont have a choice)

Fine. Ring the hospital. "Phlebotomy department shuts at 5 and queue is now full, please ring a different day or book online." Okay. I look online: hospital doesn't seem to do it either, meaning nearest place i can get my bloods done is either Fflint or Wrecsam which - to be clear - are both around 2 fucking hours away, cool i guess, i dont rly have the money to travel that far though which means Josie's gonna have to drive me which also costs petrol

Also, trans services have always been a bit shit around here but the fact they won't take my bloods for PCOS? im in pain a lot of the time....

[paperstraw]

✨CIA Agent Hill's excellent phlebotomy skills✨

My hard to hit veins now just can't unsee that. 👀

Also, did she have some kind of... higher-level sciencific education? Seemingly understanding the principles of blood sample analysis and having done DNA sequencing before (in an old Hawkeye comic), she's kinda suspicious for me...