Great Expectations: I have eight weeks not to break anything.
“A biologist in my lab gave birth to twins a few days ago! She decided to name one Mary Therese after her mom, and she named the other Control.”
I thought I’d try to start my blog posts from here on out with great, albeit slightly dorky, science jokes. I hope they keep you entertained, if only for a few nanoseconds.
In this post, I want to share my expectations for this Howard Hughes Research Fellowship that I embarked on about 10 days ago. I think it’s best that I describe the presuppositions I developed before my first day in Dr. Stripp’s lab, my first day in any research lab.
Weeks before my return to Duke University, my mind had conjured fantastic images of what my summer in lab would be like. There would be mice weaving through test tube racks trying so desperately to escape the clutches of a mad scientist whose torturous plans for these sacrificial animals were only intensified by his maniacal laugh and gravity-defying hairstyle. For two months I would be plunged into the darkness of a windowless basement with the only respite of light coming from Tesla coils and GFP-engineered lab rats that had escaped from their cages. My day would be quiet as my fellow researchers would try so hard to achieve an unparalleled level of anti-sociality in order to better focus on the experiments at hand. Talking would be frowned upon, and evil crackling at a hypothesis proved correct would only permitted on nights when the dark sky was scarred by thunder and lightning. I, outfitted with enormous goggles and a white lab coat stained with glowing, green ooze from my past experiments, would derive pleasure from the crisp smack that latex gloves would make against my skin, growing paler every day from the unholy number of hours spent in darkness, as I pulled and released the cuff. My role would be to mix chemicals whose names were unpronounceable except for the expert organic chemist. Within days, I would find stem cells collecting at the bottom of my Erlenmeyer flask, and the Nobel Prize would be within my reach. Slowly, I would become a modern-day Victor Frankenstein or Dr. Jekyll, or maybe even a Dr. Evil commanding my henchmen to contact a chemical supply company for its latest batch of sharks with laser beams attached to their friggin’ heads.
All right, I guess that was a slightly romanticized version of my pre-lab expectations. Not surprisingly, things ended up quite differently. However, I really do like the satisfyingly crisp sound that my gloves make when I put them on like a crazed scientist. I’ve also learned that science often moves very slowly; it can takes months from experimental setup to data collection. Every single tissue that I view under the microscope has undergone months of work.
Now that I have a better sense of what biomedical research is like, I can better develop my expectations. Contrary to any stereotypes of social awkwardness in the research community, I have learned that even brilliant scientists are outgoing and eager to share their knowledge. I’ve even come to love and appreciate the science jokes that are told in the lab. Thankfully, the mice are well-contained and we are far from the darkness of a basement. I’m well on my way to learning the tools-of-the-trade – the techniques and protocols that have been perfected over the years by Dr. Stripp and his colleagues. I’m slowly honing my skills – my immunostaining, microscopy, tissue sectioning, and lung collection from mice are all getting better. I can expect that these techniques will only continue to improve over the next several weeks, and that I’ll be introduced to more as I progress through my own research project.
Everyday, my understanding of what we are studying – conceptually, molecularly, genetically, atomically – improves. A light bulb goes off every few hours as I reach an intellectual epiphany; also, to save energy, the light bulbs literally go off every few hours in different parts of the lab. From the roles played by different lung epithelial cells to the signaling pathways that we focus on, more concepts become clear as my brain turns on the defogger. I’m sure that, until even my last few hours in Dr. Stripp’s lab, I will continue to learn something new and useful.
One of the largest goals that I share with my mentors is that I can contribute something positive to their research. Two months may seem like a long time, but I can tell already that my project will move slowly. We hope that, during my time in the lab, I’ll even be able to contribute enough data and insight so that I will have co-authorship on Dr. Stripp’s next publication. It would be amazing to have my name in a research journal, even if I’m listed as the 9th author!
I think I found a niche that makes me comfortable and satisfied. Every morning, despite how difficult it is for me to wake up to the sound of an alarm at 8:00am, I look forward to coming into the lab and working with a great and enthusiastic team of researchers. I can honestly say that a future in research is a goal I hope to realize.
- Tyler
