Call it lack of sleep, call is stress, or just bad luck, but starting in December I got sick. It went from cold to respiratory infection, and eventually I also got a flu. Basically, once I got sick once it went from bad to worse because I wasn’t able to take a break and just recover.

Not being willing to abandon my project midway through (and consequently start from scratch again once I got better), and with a looming abstract submission deadline hanging over my head, I kept plowing forward despite my physical miseries. This ultimately got me to the point where I was barely hanging on and just doing the minimum work required to keep my project on life-support.

To add insult to injury, I had to have a committee meeting recently. I had pushed it forward to the point where I just had to get it done or my department would be on my case. Having been sick on and off for over three months, it is needless to say the prep work for the committee meeting took quite the backseat to all my other lab work. I was exhausted and irritable, but managed to throw together a moderately interesting presentation for the occasion. I figured I would get through it, as it was “just a meeting”, as my supervisor said before he added, “you are in charge of where we go with the meeting.”

I was expecting some questions regarding my data, or my project design from my committee members. I expected a little chat about what directions to take the rest of the project into, and perhaps some recommendations. Little did I know it really wasn’t me who was in charge of the direction of the meeting, but rather that my supervisor took this opportunity to really challenge me.

I am a big believer in not making excuses for failing to meet my responsibilities. The reality is, however, that when you are physically miserable and drag yourself to work to sit in a hot room all day looking at fish, you cannot really bring yourself to reading a few papers between cleaning, cooking, and laundry as well. I salute anyone who does manage this, but it was just not me.

Needless to say my frustration started to rise once I realized I was being grilled on issues I was still unsure of, given that I also recently decided to abandon my initial PhD project proposal and start moving into an entirely new direction. A direction I was still pretty unfamiliar with. The matter got even worse when my boss asked questions about my colleage’s projects, and the results of these projects. Mind you, our lab is huge. I don’t keep track of what everyone is doing at all times, and when all grad students get together as a group for lunch, we definitely don’t feel like discussing our respective results. Big surprise, I had not read my colleage’s paper, which I didn’t even know existed, but as my supervisor made abundantly clear in front of the rest of my committee, I should have been finding out about said article on my own. Trying to salvage my image a little, I made a smart sounding statement regarding the drug concentration we expect to find in the blood of our subjects. My supervisor cut me off mid-sentence to ask me: “How do you know this.”

“You told me…” I replied. Feeling pretty silly.

“Yes, but how do WE know this?” He reiterated. “Danie, this is something you should know. It was published.”

“Well, someone must have studied it,” I exclaimed with all the built up frustration I had in me while punctuating my remark by throwing my hands in the air.

Realizing I had just done the equivalent of flipping my supervisor the scientific bird, I sat back quietly waiting for the storm.

Thankfully, the rest of my committee saw some humor in this. Yet, my supervisor now took the opportunity to advise me I need to take everything more seriously. I just wish I could, I am not just Danie the researcher, I am also Danie-who-is-responsible-for-a-million-other-things-and-sometimes-gets-sick. Just like most of us.

After my committee meeting disaster, I went home, took a shower, and set up a schedule for a thorough lit review. Starting within my own lab.

_________________________________________________________________________________

Danie is a senior graduate student in neuroscience at a large North American university. Over the years, Danie has lived through the perils of the dissertation process, and takes you behind the scenes to witness the real daily struggles (and celebrations) of today’s graduate students. If any of Danie’s experiences read like they are plagiarized from your own life, take solace: you’re not alone!

_________________________________________________________________________________

See Danie’s previous post:

Their Research is Sexier than Yours

.

A few days ago I was on the phone with my mother. She had already sent me ten emails by the time I rolled out of bed (there is a time zone difference between us), and one of them was some very exciting news she had seen on TV. Apparently, at a university close to my home-town, some young researchers made a stem cell research breakthrough that became big news. As soon as I saw the email I saw it coming, and not even five minutes into the conversation the dreaded commentary surfaced:

“Did you see my email about the pig stem cells?” She asked

“Yes mother”

“Isn’t it interesting? They are very young, younger than you, the researchers. You know, J. was right, you could have gone to University closer by.” She rattled off. “Universities here are very good too,” she added to it.

“Yes. I know” I long ago, around the time I started grad school, gave up arguing over whether or not my University was good enough. I am at a world leading institution, at least that is what they would like to make us, and potential future students, believe. Nonetheless, pretty exciting stuff gets done here too. Nevertheless, when it comes to my education my mother has a “the grass is greener on the other side” look on things.

“This is groundbreaking stuff that will help patients in the future. Is it too bad you just didn’t stay here for school. They also said that Biotechnology is really the future.”

I didn’t really know what else to say than to try and convince her again that our university is top notch in research as well.

“Yes, maybe the university isn’t so bad, but you just play around a little bit with fish,” she said. “You’re not doing anything really helpful, practically speaking.”

I remember a time when my parents were in awe of people who had PhD degrees. It seemed like something difficult, distant, and unattainable. Somehow, now that I am working towards a PhD degree, it is no longer that special. It seems unfair how opinions change, particularly when we work towards a goal for years, and then feel like it was pretty much a bad idea. I only know a lucky few who never questioned their decision to go to grad school. Those are, in my mind, the true academics for whom there is no other job more perfectly suited. The rest of us go to bed in doubt, and wake up wondering if we will ever finish our project/write our thesis/be gainfully employed. When environmental factors (parents/siblings/significant others) start to put down our work as well, it doesn’t help the sleepless nights.

When I went back to playing with my fish later that day, I realized I hadn’t even pointed out you can do stem cell research with zebrafish as well.

_________________________________________________________________________________

Danie is a senior graduate student in neuroscience at a large North American university. Over the years, Danie has lived through the perils of the dissertation process, and takes you behind the scenes to witness the real daily struggles (and celebrations) of today’s graduate students. If any of Danie’s experiences read like they are plagiarized from your own life, take solace: you’re not alone!

.