#Medical Lab Careers

[caimitos]

saw a post about projecting your ethnicity onto a character and started missing vespa ilkay. so so bad

[bordeauxlips]

the thought of picking a career and pursuing that career and to get promoted in that career and doing everything for that career making it most of my day to day life is literally making me sick and I wanna just skin myself

[notionalmarketing-blog]

Enroll in Lab Technician Course

[dcentroof]

Enroll in lab technician course

[a-curious-studyblr]

7/11/23 - I'm trying to form the habit of finishing a section of a medical terminology Coursera course after work each week! I've always felt confused about medical terms even tho I'm a biologist, so I'm hoping this gives me a good foundation. I was going to print the tables but I put in the effort of writing them out so they'd stick in my brain better

[dpmiagra]

Top 5 Career Opportunities Medical Lab Technology Course In Agra

[daydreaming-in-daisies]

i've been informed that at the end of our 90 day period at my contract job we'll have to take a quiz to see how much we know. i'm assuming if we pass, we stay and if we fail, we leave. in other words, i'm leaving after the 90 day period LMAO BYE.

[nathaslosthershit]

Long Distance (LN4)

Summary: Long distance relationships are hard, especially when they both have very time consuming careers

Warnings; Angst (a whole lot), no happy ending in this part (will happen in pt 2)

Request: hi!! requesting a lando norris x female uni!reader if possible reader being a medical student or a one of the engineers on the paddock 🧍🏻‍♀️

Lando wasn’t known for being the smartest on the grid. He, like many other drivers, had only a few years of school to his name. But that still hadn’t stopped him from being able to somehow ‘woo’ a woman quite the opposite. 

His girlfriend was currently in her last year of medical school. While he was unbelievably proud of how far she had come, the difficulties of long distance have gotten to both of them, and there wasn’t much hope once she graduated and was off to a medical training program. With her studying for finals and Lando being off to a new country every two weeks for Grand Prixs, their relationship has been rocky to say the least.

Constant lack of communication and missing each other's calls had led them to have tons of unspoken dialogue. Each unanswered call created the smallest bit of resentment that just continued to grow and grow. 

No more sweet ‘goodmorning’ or ‘goodnight’ texts, no more wishing her well before a big test, no more sending ‘good luck baby!’ before qualifying. Just a few ‘how are you doing?’ and other bland messages you’d send to a coworker, not your significant other. 

After weeks of little communication, they had finally scheduled a ‘zoom date’. Not particularly the most romantic date they had been on, but it's the best they could do with their schedules. Lando called in late at night for him while his girlfriend had a lunch break in between labs. Time zones be damned.

Lando was 25 minutes late leaving only 35 minutes to actually talk to one another.

Her wifi was spotty so it kept freezing.

Finally, with only 5 minutes left, Lando decided to make a joke that there is no reason for her to continue going to labs, as he would be happy to be her ‘sugar daddy’. This was not very well received by his girlfriend, who responded with a quick “fuck you” and hung up early.

Lando was joking, a bit. He loved his girlfriend and saw a future with her, he just couldn’t stand long distance and any job in the medical field was bound to take up most of your time. He wanted her, but he also wanted someone who could be by his side on race day. That just wasn’t something that was possibly currently. 

He supported her. He loved to brag about how smart she was and how she was so dedicated to helping people. But that came with setbacks.

After a quick message from Lando (‘I was kidding darling. You know how proud I am of you. Lighten up a little, yeah?’), which she ignored, she was off to her labs in a worse mood than before. Things couldn’t go on like this. 

He hadn’t heard from her in three days. His “how are you, love?” and “Miss you lots. Hope your class is going better than my neck training :(“ went unanswered. She knew she was being petty, but maybe a relationship was just too hard for her life currently. 

After three long and stressful days of silence, she called him. With no message asking what she needed to speak about, Lando feared he already knew.

“We can’t keep doing this” She said after they quickly exchanged a ‘hi, how are you?’ ‘I'm good, how are you?’. 

“Baby, I told you it was just a-”

“I know that Lando! It's just that this isn’t the first time you have mentioned me quitting my career to be your housewife or whatever unrealistic idea you have stuck in your head.”

“I don’t need you to be a housewife! I don’t want that for you. I just try to let you know that you don’t need to worry about your future as much because I will always be there to help you.”

“But I want a career! I want to work hard so I can have a good future. You need to get it into your head that your career isn’t the only important one.”

“I don’t think that! Me wanting to let you know that I support you no matter what isn't diminishing your career plans! It would be nice if you started to show a little more support. I am so sick and tired of all our conversations revolving around you and how your day was. If classes are rough, or you are stressed, you don’t respond to me. I never know where I land with you. But god forbid I try to mention how hard my day was. I am just as sick of it.”

She didn’t know how to respond. It seems that all the times she has been more focused on how she was feeling she completely forgot to check on how he was doing. Before she can even muster out an apology, Lando jumps back in.

“Maybe you are right. I don’t think I can do this either. Not anymore.” He feels his stomach dropping as he says the words, not fully meaning them.

There is a long silence, moments where she wants to apologize, to try and reconcile. In that moment all of the good memories of their relationship come flashing back to her, as if her mind is begging her to do something. But she doesn’t. 

“Then I guess this is it.” She finally says. 

“I guess so.”

Part 2 out now!

[g1rlr0b1n]

Any headcanons about Jon Kent and/or Damian Wayne?

I'm gonna focus some older damijon headcanons so that this post doesn't go on forever 😅

Sleeping Habits

Jon sleeps best when he focuses in on Damian's heartbeat. He still has night terrors about his time as Ultraman's prisoner but if he can listen to Damian's heartbeat until it lulls him back to sleep, he feels safe. This continues on into his adult life.

Damian inherited Jon's old Superboy jacket after Jon came back aged up and he sleep with it next to his pillow like a security blanket (but if anyone asks, he'll deny it). Damian stops doing this when Jon begins sleeping over because now his pillows smell like Jon and that's all he really wanted, that feeling of knowing he's around.

Dating History

Jon dates a lot in his youth, he dated Irma, then Jay, then several more people before finally dating Damian in his early 30s. He likes dating, he likes the thrill of a new relationship but after the cliché feelings of romance have worn off, he has a bad habit of becoming distant until the other person just ends things with him. This hasn't happened with Damian because Damian doesn't let him get bored lol...also because their love is stronger than feelings of passion. It's a genuine love and friendship.

Damian didn't start dating seriously until after college. He'd had crushes but they weren't really a sexual thing, more like something he thought he was supposed to do and wanting to feel loved. He tried to give it the ol' college try with Maps but even she knew it wasn't going to work out; they're still really good friends though (and only two years "wasted"). Honestly, she figured out his preferences before he did and convinced him to ask Jon out. Silver lining is, Damian introduced her to Colin and when they got married they fought over who got to have him as their best man...she won. (yes Maps and Colin are one of my crack ships lol)

College

Damian actually convinced Jon to give college another try, which he does. They end up going to Star City University together (because it's neutral) and were even roommates. It was awkward for Jon at first since he was an older freshman but he's a people person so the age gap didn't stay weird for long. It did get tiring telling the freshman, "no, I can't buy you alcohol. I'm not trying to get expelled". He ends up getting a PhD in Biochemistry.

Damian had not been excited to continue his education until he managed to convince Jon to do it with him. He decided to go the Veterinary route because "people get on his nerves" and he wanted to save on his own vet bills (practical). When their majors took them in separate directions they still stayed as roommates. Damian and Jon didn't date in college so it did get under Damian's skin to see Jon date other people, but at the time he didn't really understand why (retrospect is 20/20).

Careers

Jon had been nervous about not following his parent's footsteps but with Damian's encouragement Jon goes into applied research and gets a job at S.T.A.R labs. He writes articles of his findings frequently, so it's not like the ol' writing genes went completely to waste. His parents do like to joke "where did we go wrong with you?" about his very different career path but it's all in jest, they are very proud of him.

Damian gets his veterinary medical degree but later decides to go back to school to get a general medical degree (he has a change of heart in his mid-30s). He is still primarily a Vet but he wanted to be able to help his family out as well since Alfred was gone and...so was Leslie now too. Damian also does a lot of extra research regarding alien biology on the side, he can't get a degree in it, but he's currently one of only a handful of people on Earth that would be able to operate on Jon or any other Kryptonian should they need it.

The Multiverse

Damian and Jon are a rare phenomena within the Multiverse; that are what is regarded as, "True Soulmates". Even on Earths that do not have both a Damian and Jon their fates are still intertwined. A world without both spells loneliness for the the other and more often than not, catastrophe for that world. (I'm actually in the process of writing a whole series about this. The first preview was posted earlier this month. Earth 3: Into the Owls Nest)

[notionalmarketing-blog]

[endless-summer-soldier]

dr. feelgood - chapter one

pairing: Surgeon!Bucky x SurgicalIntern!Reader

summary: Y/N has a one night stand with a handsome stranger the night before starting her new job as a surgical intern. Little does she know, the handsome stranger also happens to be her new boss

warnings: must be 18+, drinking, some surgery descriptions, smut, self-pleasure, praise kink, very minor character death

word count: 1.2k

series playlist: here (I'm still finalizing this so it might change)

taglist: @sebsgirl71479 @ozwriterchick @notmeddy (message me to be added!)

series masterlist

There was a stranger in my bed. A very handsome, naked stranger, but a stranger nonetheless. I rolled onto my back and tried to piece together the events from last night, but all I could remember was tequila. Too much tequila.

I crawled out of bed and headed for the shower, hoping the stranger would sneak out while I was in the bathroom. Today was a big day and being hungover was not part of my plan. I chugged some water and took a few Advil before I rinsed all of last night off my body.

When I walked back into my bedroom, Handsome Stranger was still in bed, but he was awake, which was progress.

“You forgot to invite me into the shower with you,” he said, sitting up in my bed. I gave him a small smile and said, “Let’s not do this. Last night was really fun, but I need you to leave.”

“Kicking me out already? No breakfast? No morning sex?” 

“I’m starting a new job this morning and I really need to get ready,” I said. I grabbed the stranger’s clothes from the floor and tossed them at him.

“Wow, you really are kicking me out. This is going to impact your rating in my little black book.”

“Do you even remember my name?” I asked.

“Is it Lindsey? You look like a Lindsey.”

I chuckled, “It’s not Lindsey.”

“Okay, well I may not remember your name but I do remember the mind-blowing sex we had last night.”

“Can’t argue with you there.” I walked over towards him wrapped only in my towel and held my hand out, “Y/N”

“Bucky,” he took my hand and gave it a solid squeeze before letting go.

“Look Bucky, I’m sure you’re really great but I can’t do this right now. I have to focus on my career. Yes, I had a great time last night, but this can’t happen again. So I really do need you to go.”

He held both hands up in surrender, “Fair enough, I appreciate the honesty. I will get out of your hair.” He took his clothes from the heap on the bed and started putting them back on. I retreated back to the bathroom to dry my hair and brush my teeth. I let Bucky collect his things and leave without another word, avoiding any further awkward conversation.

I finished getting ready and could swear I smelled coffee, likely just my brain tricking me. When I departed down the stairs I heard the coffee maker brewing and froze, knowing I didn’t start the machine. There was a note scribbled on the white board attached to my fridge that read:

Good luck on your first day. Coffee’s on me :) - B

“Son of a bitch,” I muttered to myself. At least he didn’t leave his phone number because I might’ve been tempted to text him. A new guy was the last thing I needed right now. So I poured myself a travel mug full of coffee and departed for the hospital.

It was strange to be dressed in periwinkle scrubs and a lab coat. All through medical school, I dreamed of this moment, when I would finally be a surgeon. And yet, putting on the scrubs felt wildly underwhelming.

I stood in a group with my fellow interns as our resident, Dr. Palmer gave us a tour of the hospital and a run down of our basic expectations. I exchanged glances with a few of the interns in my group, but we didn’t have an opportunity to talk much.

The first day was fairly routine. We each had a chance to present on a patient and answer questions that Palmer asked us. The cases were all fairly routine which was a relief. Then we were sent off to the ER to complete basic examinations, take blood, and sew sutures. They were easing us in, which was a relief since I was still a little hungover, but I knew in the coming weeks we would be exposed to more and more.

Dr. Palmer introduced us to Dr. Stephen Strange, who was a world renowned neurosurgeon and apparently Palmer’s fiance. It wasn’t uncommon for doctors to be involved with fellow doctors because our work schedules were so demanding. Strange was curt and arrogant, but clearly highly intelligent and it would be a great experience to work underneath him. But I was most eager to meet the Head of Trauma, Dr. James Barnes. I’d read a lot of his articles and respected his resourcefulness as a former doctor for the Army. He had the kind of experience that couldn’t be taught in a hospital and I wanted to soak up as much of his knowledge as he was willing to give.

About halfway through the 12-hour shift, I found my way to the break room for a cup of coffee. The coffee pot was steaming which was fortunate because it meant a fresh pot had just been brewed. I poured myself a generous cup and added just a splash of cream. 

As I took my first sip, a voice called from behind me, “Not as good as tequila, but it works wonders.” 

I spun around and found handsome stranger smirking at me, clad in navy scrubs and a white lab coat. 

I’m sure my jaw was on the floor, but I did my best to cover up my shock, “What are you doing here?”

He walked over toward me and poured himself a cup of coffee, “I could ask you the same thing. Was my coffee this morning so good that you had to come here for more?”

I was too stunned to respond to his sarcasm, “I’m sorry, do you work here?”

He looked at me patronizingly. “What does it look like?” He held his arms out, drawing my attention to his scrubs.

This couldn’t be real. I was about to pinch myself to test out my pain receptors when I caught a whiff of him. Ginger, bergamot, and citrus. The same heavenly scent that I had inhaled when I made my bed this morning.

 “So this is the new job, huh?” he asked me. I couldn’t even formulate a response but he didn’t miss a beat, “Very impressive, truly. This is one of the best programs in the country.” I simply nodded, trying to calculate the quickest way out of this conversation.

Luckily I was saved by my resident. Dr. Palmer entered the break room and interrupted the conversation.

“Dr. Barnes, I see you’ve met one of my interns.”

My heart dropped into my stomach. Handsome stranger was Dr. Barnes. The Dr. James Barnes who I’ve admired for years and was incredibly excited to work with. And I drunkenly slept with him last night without even knowing who he was. I could feel my career slipping through my fingers.

“Yes, I was just about to introduce myself,” he stated. He extended a hand to me, “Dr. James Barnes, Head of Trauma.”

“Dr. Barnes, pleasure to meet you,” I faked enthusiasm. “I’m Dr. Y/F/N Y/L/N.”

“Dr. Y/L/N actually has a special interest in trauma, if I remember correctly,” Palmer added. 

“Is that so?” Barnes said, looking at me with amusement. I merely nodded with a smile and he said, “Well, it sounds like we’ll be seeing a lot of each other. If you’ll excuse me, I have to scrub into the OR in about 30 minutes.”  

He walked out of the break room but then popped his head back in, “Looking forward to working with you Dr. Y/L/N.” I could see Dr. Palmer trying to piece together the interaction so I scurried out of the room before she could question me.

next chapter

[esamastation]

Part thirty-three of Shizuroth, aka, the SOLDIER General's Self Saving Shizun.

Ao3 link.

Previous parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty, thirty-one, thirty-two

-

Reno hates the fact that in the last twenty four hours he's somehow become the Turk Expert on SOLDIER behaviour. Well, Rude did some of the research too, but still, this is not the way Reno expected to see his career going.

"I think the fundamental problem with the entire SOLDIER corps is that they don't know how to take a fucking break," he decides, rocking his chair back and forth on its back legs while making faces at the ceiling. "I mean, just look at the shitshow that started just because Sephiroth took some time off! They couldn't even let him have that."

Rude hums, shuffling through what looks like all of the camp's paperwork.

Reno continues, crossing his hands behind his neck. "Rhapsodos and Hewley don't leave him alone, everything he does is scrutinised -"

"Mostly by us," Rude comments.

Reno ignores him. "The other Firsts take him out training, because they don't do enough of that in their work hours, clearly, and then Rhapsodos drags him out shopping, and that's just the first day. The second day he goes to train in what was at the time an empty training room not in use, and the moment he does, people call Hojo on his ass," he waves a hand. "The poor schmuck took a break, and all he got was so much stress for it! And that's without even taking into consideration his memory loss!"

Rude hums in agreement and then looks up. "SOLDIERs don't have work hours."

"What?" Reno asks, his momentum halted.

"SOLDIERs aren't paid by the hour - they're paid by the mission. They, technically, pick their own hours. They can and do regularly make thousands of Gil in a matter of hours."

The front legs of Reno's chair bang against the floor, rattling their entire paper hut of a house. "Well, I know that, yes, everyone knows that. It's a big selling point, aside from the whole become a hero by having Mako pumped into your veins thing."

Rude hums in agreement. "With his mission completion rate, Sephiroth regularly makes up to quarter million Gil in a month."

"... By working how many hours, in general, per day?"

"Seventeen - 

"Seventeen?! When does the fucker sleep?!"

Rude shrugs and puts the papers down. "According to his medical file, he generally can do with five hours of sleep while maintaining optimal function."

"And who the fuck determined that - Professor Hojo?" Reno scoffs. "Un-fucking-believable. Also my point is made! SOLDIERs don't know how to take a fucking break."

"Truly a detrimental view on work," Rude agrees.

"It really fucking is! I mean, come on! You take a bunch of jacked up meatheads, give them a system that massively rewards their overwork, you keep them on call all the time, keeping them on edge and hyped up, all the while Hojo looms over them like the fucking boogeyman and can pull them into the labs any time he wants!" Reno scoffs. "Never mind the fact that they're considered, technically, Shinra property, with all the Mako in their veins, so they have fuck all employee's rights."

"Might add to the reason why so few take time off," Rude agrees.

"They do have paid time off, right?" Reno asks. "The program isn't that much of a shit, right?"

"They do, standard rate… which is on average about a fifth of what they'd stand to make working. Or in Sephiroth's case… one-thirtieth."

"Of course it fucking is," Reno scoffs with disgust.

"... And the Science department can still call them in, if they're in Midgar."

"So either work yourself to early death or take a massive hit to the wallet and still Science can just grab your ass if they feel like it! What the fuck," Reno mutters. "Who the fuck designed the SOLDIER program, anyway?"

"According to the paperwork, originally Professor Gast… but its current form is mostly Professor Hojo's handiwork."

"Guess I should've expected that," Reno mutters and rocks back in his chair again, glaring at the ceiling. "The whole fucking system is rigged to blow. Nice fucking experiment you got there, Professor."

And now it's his problem to deal with. Wonderful.

He thinks of the way Angeal said it, time and privacy, like it was a joke, an impossible task. It makes him so fucking mad.

The only fucking reason work as a Turk is worth it sometimes is because it comes with some sweet fucking benefits - including properly paid time off and all the incentive on the fucking planet to use it, too. Because way back when Turks were first put together, then still called the Investigation Sector of the General Affairs Department, someone had the common sense to look at these guys, with abilities and access of fucking spies, and go, "yeah, you know what we don't want to see - what happens when these assholes get burnout." Because that's how you end up with your asshole bosses assassinated in the night.

To this day Turks will fight tooth and nail to keep their off work hours off the fucking clock. Because what happens on the clock is bad enough, and if it doesn't justify being able to fucking punch out at the end of the day, then what's even the fucking point?

Time and privacy aren't impossible to get, for the Turks - those are fucking contractually enforced benefits they're entitled to, and just a few of many! They keep them fucking sane! And woe be the fucking asshole who tries to mess with them. Even Heidegger knows better.

It's so damn wild to realise that just a few floors down there a bunch of bastards who just don't… care? Who are incentivised not to care. Who'd rather work themselves to death rather than risk being seen at loose ends. Guess that's how Shinra keeps the SOLDIERs in check - they're clearly all of them too overworked to even think straight anymore. And those who are not working still might be pulled into the Science Department any time. Shit.

Dragging his hands down his face with a groan, Reno rolls out of his chair. "I hate this fucking assignment already. Did you find anything?"

"There are a few potential sites," Rude agrees and shows him a drawn map of the area. "A charcoal burner's house over here has been abandoned for months, and might be in bad condition. A hunter's lodge over here, it's higher up on the mountains and might be within view of Wutai patrols from Fort Tamblin. And here there's an old farm, partially burned in a bombing two years back, abandoned since."

Reno considers the locations. The hunter's lodge is right out… "We'll start with the charcoal place," he decides. "If that doesn't work out, then the farm."

"Sounds good," Rude agreed. "How will we justify it?"

"Do we justify it? It's Turk business," Reno scoffs, taking out his PHS. "And so, it's no one's business."

Rude thinks about that for a moment and then nods. "I'll requisition supplies."

"You do that," Reno agrees, checks his watch to make sure it's office hours back home and makes a call. It takes no time for the call to connect. "Good morning, boss, how's the weather in Midgar?"

"There was a storm, but it looks like the worst is over now," Tseng answers. "What's the word for Sephiroth?"

Reno flashes back to the moment he heard the arguably strongest man in the world sobbing into his hands about how fucked he is. "Yeah, so, about that. We're making some new arrangements."

-

What I love most about the Turks is how they definitely know how to appreciate time off.