Paper, paper everywhere

"Must get data, must get data".

Muttering my new mantra, I have finally emerged, relatively unscathed, from a mound of paperwork.  

Every spare minute has been spent deciphering the virtually illegible scrawls recording the past year of my PhD adventures!

It is review time and I have been collating data, drawing graphs and sifting through images.  Submission of my report detailing my work is required to continue my studies (and hopefully impress my supervisory team).  I have been beavering away compiling a complete compendium of my research to date, hence my absence from the 'blogosphere'.

Surprisingly, this has not been an easy task.  I am reminded about time.  The past (how little I feel I've achieved), the present (punctuated by repetitive strain injury brought about by vigorous typing) and the future (so much left to do...).  

Report emailed.  


A clear mind yields positive results in the lab.  Cue heavy breathing (not dissimilar to Darth Vader) courtesy of my protective respirator, I add a little dash of APMA to my protein sample.  WOO HOO! With successful protein activation complete I can now focus on getting some tangible data.


Year Two begins...



 
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Chromatography capers!

The general feeling of exhaustion continues but despite that it's been a busy day in the lab, at least for the machines.

While my protein sample sloooooowly travels through the vast capillary network on the chromatography machine I have been glued to a computer screen. Automation rules...well at least it would if I didn't have to keep running into the coldroom to swap over buffers. At 4 degrees it is practically arctic and I left my fur-lined snow boots at home!

I wash the lines through with lashings of salt to disturb the molecular interactions that transiently immobilise my mutant protein. Contaminants removed, all is looking good and more importantly, clean.

Two weeks and two days later I still have to check protein concentration and check purity. Each step in the process makes me increasingly nervous. Time is critical as samples degrade, some of my counterparts have worked around the clock...check under the office desks and you can find a duvet or two!

Tick tock.

A quick run through with ethanol to clean the instrumentation and home time beckons. No lab duvet shenanigans tonight.



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Liquid Life

"Ouch".

The needle pierces my flesh, I can't look.  The throbbing sensation reaches a crescendo.


Approximately 5 litres of blood is traversing my circulatory system at a rapid rate and I'm feeling just a little queasy.  I've never been a huge fan of diagnostic blood letting but deep within my tissues, these biconcave crimson cells may hide the reason for my lethargy.

Distribution of precious oxygen molecules throughout my tissues will eventually contribute to the creation of energy, much needed when chasing after a small (grubby) child.  


Clearly, as highlighted by my continual yawning, my mitochondria are feeling oxygen deprived.  Or perhaps, the little white soldiers that patrol the depths of my insides are overwhelmed by an ambush of viral invaders.


Either way, the tubes of scarlet liquid that line the desk in the phlebotomy clinic are the true essence of life.


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