Showing posts with label what to do. Show all posts
Showing posts with label what to do. Show all posts

Tuesday, April 3, 2012

Adventures in photobleaching

There are a couple of ways to act when you make a Really Big Mistake in lab.

1) Correct it, tell no one, and pretend it didn't happen. This method is preferable when you do something small and stupid. Like one time some sequencing results didn't look very good. And I realized that I had completely diluted my primers to the wrong concentration. Like, mMols off. This would be an okay mistake not to tell anyone else around you in lab, just as long as you fix it and make sure never to make that mistake again. (And also that no one else will be using your primer stocks.) (This also isn't exactly how it went for me because it took someone else pointing out that I had made a blaring error in my primer dilutions, so everyone knew about it in the end.)

2) Admit you made a mistake, ask for help, correct it, and then pretend it didn't happen (but never make that mistake again.) This method is especially useful when something big is going wrong, and you can't figure it out on your own. This is when you just have to suck it up that you'll look like an idiot for about 5 minutes while someone is explaining what you did wrong (or as I prefer to see it, what you weren't doing right!) but in the end it's all for the best because a) hopefully you learned something, and b) you won't make that mistake ever again. And it's a win-win! Because when you come across another poor soul who's made the same mistake as you, after you help them figure out what they weren't doing right, you can choose whether or not to admit to them that you too made the same mistake.

3) Ask for help, figure out that you were a complete idiot about something, and laugh uproariously about it. This might include just yelling PHOTOBLEACHING every 20 minutes or so for the rest of the evening after you figured your problem out. 


So this may or may not have happened to me today.


I will start off by saying that my lab does not do fluorescent microscopy. No one in my lab has fluorescent microscopy experience, and so we're looking at some fluorescence in our cells (just to check transfection levels) and using a scope in a lab downstairs that we've never really been formally trained on. The one caveat is that I come from a family of fluorescent microscopists--so this what follows is sort of unforgivable.

Here is what happened.

We walked downstairs with our little flasks of cells, and we put them under the microscope. We turned on the light, turned on the laser, made sure we were on the right filter, opened the shutter, and looked at our cells.

"Ooh!" My post doc says, "Pretty glowing cells!"

"Awesome," I say, "Let's put it on the screen!"

(I am clearly paraphrasing here.)

So, with the fluorescence still on, we manually switch the scope from eye to camera, we press "Live", and we wait for the picture to come up on the screen.

(If you're keeping tally of time blasting cells with fluorescence, we're now clocking in at 2 minutes.)

It takes another few seconds for the image to come up, then of course we have to refocus slightly for the image to be in focus for the camera.

Then we take a picture.

(Fluorescence still open, in case you were wondering.)

Then we hmmm and hawww and write down the settings we used so we use the same settings for all the other flasks.

Then we go get another flask.

I will skip the rest of the nitty gritty details, because the short of it is, we kept looking from eye to camera and back again, and since apparently neither my post doc nor I were feeling incredibly competent today, we kept forgetting to manually change the scope from eye to camera, all with the fluorescence on. 


And then we wondered aloud to each other, "Why are all of these flasks getting progressively dimmer?" And of course, being scientists, we say, let's get that first flask out that was really bright!

So we get the first flask out and everything is really dim.

In retrospect:

It didn't even occur to me that this was the problem until later I was talking about what I was doing to someone who actually knows how to do microscopy, and they were just like, You focused with the fluorescence ON?? My post doc still isn't quite convinced that this is the problem, but I think she just doesn't want to admit that it's the problem because it makes us look like complete idiots.

And me?

I am perfectly ok with looking like a complete idiot. Because, you know, how else would you learn? (By actually listening carefully to what people tell you to do so you never make mistakes? Where's the fun in that?)

And for the rest of the evening, yes, I have yelled PHOTOBLEACHING aloud at odd intervals. Because, arrrghhh.....PHOTOBLEACHING!








Friday, September 9, 2011

Preparing for a meeting

I'm going to my First Ever Scientific Meeting tomorrow, in DC. I am beyond excited, and just an itty bitty nervous, but I have received the best advice ever before going. I figured I'll share that now, and then recap when I get back what worked the best.

Dress code:
Business casual, but don't look like a lawyer.

It's better to be over dressed than under dressed, unless you have Nobel prize winning data. Then you can wear whatever you want.

This one is my favorite: Dress as seriously as you wish to be perceived. Which I think is exceptionally helpful for those of us that have round faces and tend to look a lot younger than we really are.

For the poster:
Put yourself out there. As people walk by, stop them and say, "Can I tell you about my poster?" Otherwise, no one will stop. And if you ask, they'll be guilted in to saying yes.

This goes along with put yourself out there, but be engaging. Eye contact, and all that. Introduce yourself within the first sentence.

Don't undermine your data/shoot yourself in the foot. Play up that negative result!

Anything I'm missing? I'm all going-to-my-first-meeting jittery. I'm super excited. Hopefully I'll come back with good stories. And no tears.

Thursday, August 18, 2011

Poster woes

About six months ago, our PI sent around an email alerting us to a meeting and saying that anyone who wanted to go could submit a poster and go.

Apparently six months ago I was bright eyed and bushy tailed and excited about an international meeting (for, uh, people not in the US), and science!, and hotels! And I was working on a project that I thought would make a good poster, so I wrote up and abstract, ran it by the boss, and submitted it. Lo and behold it was accepted! And I was very excited until someone kindly told me that pretty much everyone gets posters accepted, because, well, you can just put up a poster anywhere. Ok. So, a little bit of a let down, because it's like getting the "Most Improved" award on a sports team, because you just know that everyone gets an award because they can't just not give you one, but clearly you were not the most valuable or had the most headers. (Note to children's sports coaches, to an overly-sensitive 9 year old, getting "Most Improved" is pretty much the Worst Thing Ever.)

Well anyway, back to the saga of my poster. The problem was, that when I wrote my abstract and submitted my poster six months ago, I figured that after six months I would get the beautiful results that I hypothesized and make a brilliant poster and then I would get discovered and receive an honorary PhD and a book deal. (I think big, ok?) And of course, this does not happen. Not only do I not have great results, but I am also lacking on actual data. There were some quality issues and long story short, well, there isn't really a great system for detecting copy number variations between monozygotic twins.

The meeting is in three weeks, and my PI wants to see my poster by the end of next week to have time to look and critique and change. Oh perfect! That means I have a week! I'll start today!

And this is what I have so far.

Too bad you can't actually put crickets chirping on a poster. Because that is what my powerpoint slide right now is doing at me. It's chirping.

So what am I supposed to do? Pictures? I'm thinking of bringing some of my daughters stickers from home and maybe decorating it some. You know, draw their eyes away from the big empty space that is, well, the entire poster. Maybe some sort of post-it note collage? Anyone have any ideas when, you know, you have to distract people from the fact that you don't have any results?