Just call me Indefatigable.

“Say, you don't happen to have any plans for the evening, do you?” Most girls smile at the thought of those words. The phrase conjures up images of the cute co-worker about to ask if you would like to join him for dinner later that evening. A few drinks, a nice dinner, some juicy gosspy to share with the friends in the morning... sounds like a pretty good evening. However, that same little phrase can also take on a completely different and much more sinister meaning than an inquiry as to whether or not you would like to go out for an enjoyable evening with an attractive male, when uttered by your happy-married-with-three-young-kids PI. Suddenly, you wish you really did have legitimate plans, like tickets to the symphony or visiting your sick aunt in the hospital. Not that it would would matter anyways -- the only company you’ll be enjoying for the evening is that of your pipettes.

“Do you have plans for tonight?”, my PI asked while sitting in his office discussing the next steps for my project. A sense of dread runs through me at those mere words. “Just studying,” I admit. “I have two finals next week and two more the following week, so I have a lot of work to finish up” I say out loud, but running through my head, I’m thinking that my plans for the evening were to check up on my sick fish in the ‘isolation hospital tank’ I had to set up last night and how after all my studying I’d really like to get a few hours of sleep because I was up until almost 3am last night taking care of the fish and scrubbing down the entire main tank in the event that this is something viral or bacterial that could spread and cleaning and detoxifying absolutely everything short of dunking the other fish in bleach for sterilization.. and I’d really just like to get to bed early. Then comes the moment of pause, in which we both attempt to calculate in our heads how late I would have to stay tonight. Three hours to rock the GST-CBP with the glutathione beads, 45 minutes to wash the beads, and a half hour or so to add the proper proteins and antibodies, and then leaving the reaction to tumble overnight. Seeing as how it was already 3:45, that meant the earliest I would be leaving the lab would be 8… twelve hours after I arrived for the morning to set things up. Normally, I wouldn’t mind – I like being in the lab and I’m willing to put in the hours, but I desperately need some study time. “Well,” the PI asks, “can you stay and finish up? Am I being ridiculously out-of-line with this request? Tell me if I’m being ridiculous.” “No, no, not at all, no problem, I can stay…” What? Are those words coming out of my mouth? That’s my voice I’m hearing, but why am I saying such a stupid thing? I can’t stay! I don’t want to stay! I don’t have time.. I have to go home and study and get a few hours of sleep! Apparently, my brain and my vocal cords are not working on the same wavelength. I remind my PI that I have class from 9:30 – 5:30 the following day, so I won’t be able to do bench work. “No problem,” he states. “I’ll be in the lab at 8:30, we can take care of a few things before your class. Actually, come to think of it, if you want to be really assiduous, it would be great if you could come in at 7:00 to add the prot G beads.” Assiduous? No, thank you. I don’t want to be assiduous. I want to be an indolent slacker, actually. What do you mean laziness isn't acceptable in graduate school? What was I thinking? I'm too tired and stretched thin to be assiduous right now! Somehow, however, informing my PI that really, I'd rather just sleep in and be a lazy slackass didn't seem acceptable, so naturally I smiled and nodded and said that sounded like a plan. I’m not sure why I have such a hard time saying no – I guess as a graduate student, I feel like it’s my job to be in the lab all the time, which normally I don’t mind – it’s just that I’m really rather stressed about finals and I know I have to do an absolutely stellar job on the biochemistry and transformed cell finals to make up for my downright dismal biochem and lackluster transformed cell midterm grades. I think I’m also a little concerned that if I do decide to stay in this lab for my dissertation, the lab may be getting on the full side – so if I show that I am willing to put in the extra time and extra hours, maybe he will be more likely to allow me to return. Or maybe there is no real explanation, other than the fact that I am the hugest suck-up to ever grace the research building. Regardless, I wonder if it is out of line for me to ask for a sleeping bag, so that I can at least catch a few hours of zzzz’s on the lab bench, which will save me the commuting time.

So, back to the original question – did I have plans for tonight? I did indeed have penciled in several good hours of studying. But instead, I didn’t walk in my front door until 9pm, and I tended to Picasso the sick fish, replied to a few e-mails, and vented about my day. Now I am off to take a shower, and probably head to bed in the near future, since my alarm will be going off at 5:45 and I’m running on only 4 hours of sleep from last night. Studying completed tonight: zero hours. Old plan (study really hard and ace finals) out; new plan (spend bazillion hours in lab over next 3 weeks and fail finals; when letter comes kicking me out of program, cry to PI and hope he will fight to keep me in because I am so hard working and such a fabulous go-getter in the lab) in. If you need me, I'll be hard at work in the lab. Just ask for Assiduous Julie.

Back to Reality

I’ve decided that the Monday morning after Thanksgiving is, without a doubt, the most difficult morning out of the year to drag myself up and out of bed. I mean, think about it – Thanksgiving is just a tease. On all the other standard federal holidays for which one gets off of school, such as Columbus Day, Martin Luther King Day, etc., it’s just a three day weekend. One extra day off, so it’s not like you make major travel plans and go anywhere or do anything, short of possibly a trip to the shore for Memorial Day/Labor Day. Basically, you use the extra day off to sleep in a bit and get some work done. Tuesday morning comes along, and off to work/class/etc you go, pleased to have had a three-day weekend. By the time Monday after winter break rolls around, you’ve had time off to relax and it’s time to go back – plus, it’s a whole new course schedule so at least it’s something different to change things up a bit. But then there is Thanksgiving. Thursday AND Friday off (and, if you’re sneaky like me, Wednesday too – my only class for the day was cancelled, so I was able to sneak out of lab for the day and extend my holiday). You’ve finally gotten into the whole not-going-in-to-work/class thing down, and next thing you know – it’s Monday morning. It’s too long of a break to just be a casual day off, but too short to actually recuperate and relax. And frankly, most of my Thanksgiving at least seemed to be consumed by traveling from D.C. to Philly and then Philly to Harrisburg and then Harrisburg back to Philly to head back to D.C. The most sleep I managed to get any night of break was 7 hours – what kind of relaxation and enjoyment is that? This morning was definitely a struggle to make it to class, and based on the fact that only about half the biochemistry class was in attendance, I’m going to assume that I was not the only one who cringed when the alarm went off this morning.
After a few days of doing significantly less studying than I had hoped (and needed) to get done, it’s back to reality. Things in the lab are going fairly well – when I’m not there, I bitch about having to go in, but frankly when I’m actually in lab, I’ve been content and I enjoy what I’m doing. It’s all new techniques for me, so I actually feel like I’m learning (although with learning new things comes the perpetual feeling of incompetency that I hate so much). I’ve realized that perhaps one of the reasons I’m not a huge fan of grad school right now is that it perpetually makes me feel guilty. And seriously now, I’m Jewish – I have more guilt built in than I could ever possibly need! I enjoy class and studying new things which will be relevant to my future career in the lab (well, so they’re trying to convince me, but I still don’t know why I really need to have the pKas of ever amino acid and their side chains memorized to be successful when I can look them up if needed), but when I’m in class I’m always thinking about all the work that is waiting for me in lab and how much I still have to finish before I can head home that evening. When I’m in lab, I enjoy the actual bench work, but I perpetually feel guilty that I’m not studying and become easily annoyed when I have to sit around waiting for someone else because if I’m not actually actively doing something, I should be in the library. I like each separately, but together – it’s miserable!
And speaking of miserable, if you’ll excuse me, halftime is now over so I must get back to watching the Steelers lose to Indianapolis. I fear it will not be a happy evening.

Battle Royale: Julie vs. Laboratory Equipment. Tickets $25

I’ve heard it said before that nothing is foolproof to a talented fool. Today I learned that it is indeed a true statement, and I am that talented fool. There are good days in the lab, there are bad days in the lab, and there are days in the lab when I full expect the program director to come storming down the hallway, barge into the lab, wrestle the lab coat off of me while simultaneous screaming that I am a disgrace to science, and marching me right out of the research building. I should have realized that yesterday’s attack by the autoclave was only the preliminary round and there was more to come.
This morning, I arrived in lab early, around 7:45am, so that I could start a few things before class and use the hour-long biochemistry class as an incubation period. I had all my bench work complete by 8:30, and all I had to do was put my four 1L flasks in the incubator shaker and then head to class, with plenty of time to spare. However….

Battle #1: Julie versus Shaker Incubator
8:30am, Autoclave Room

All I had to do was lift the top off the shaker incubator, insert my 1L flasks, close the lid, set the temperature to 37C and the rpm to 225. It honestly doesn’t get much easier than this. The flasks are held in place by posts which are surrounded by coiled springs, but they’ve been looped over to hold smaller flasks, probably 500mL. Unwrapping the spring proves to be much more difficult than it looks, and quite the struggle results. I’m tugging and pulling and the spring is fighting back by pinching my fingers between the coils and my nitrile gloves kept getting caught and were literally shredding. Finally, I get one of the springs unlooped, put in a flask – and realize it is now too loose, and I have to struggle and fight again in order to double it up again to hold the flask tight enough. Suddenly I feel a sharp pain in my thumb, I glance down, but the glove is miraculously not torn on the thumb, so I figure I couldn’t have done too much damage, right? If I really caught my thumb in a coil, the glove would have ripped first… or so one would assume. So I continue on the struggle, finally get the flask in tight enough, and set to work on the other three. Eventually, they are all in, the lid is back on, the incubator is beeping at me and I finally figure out how to shut it up, I go back to the lab, grab my notebook to run to class since I’m late by this point, realize I’m still wearing my gloves, peel them off… and suddenly a puddle of blood starts to drip out of my glove. Apparently, half of my thumb nail ripped off in the process, and there was blood everywhere. And lucky me, I had to remove the flasks later that afternoon, add a few more contents in the lab, and then fight to get them back in the incubator again. At this point, I will be perfectly happy to never have to deal with the shaker incubator ever again.
Winner: I’m going to call this one a tie. The incubator got my nail and drew blood, but I was finally able to get my flasks in to proceed with my experiment.

Battle #2: Julie versus Spectrophotometer
12:15pm, Freezer Room

Next idiot-proof procedure of the day: after changing the LB broth for the bacteria, take optical density (OD) readings every 15 minutes until the reading is between 0.6 and 0.8. This was more of a pain than any sort of a challenge – the research building has very long hallways with lots of turns, and the autoclave room with the shaker incubator and my flasks is at the absolute end of the west side of the building, and the freezer room is at the end of the east side, so basically, in the time it took me to go to the autoclave room, draw 1mL samples for my cuvettes, walk to the spectrophotometer, and take readings, the 15 minutes had passed and I had to rush back for new samples. But the whole process is very simple – calibrate machine for protein readings, set the wavelength, insert blank, insert samples – no problem. Three of my flasks reached the desired OD reading at the same time, so I scurried down the hallway to remove the flasks from the incubator to add the next reagent, and since the other flask was getting close, quickly went to take another OD reading. I returned, open the spectrophotometer, went to insert the blank – and realized the apparatus inside the spectrophotometer that holds the cuvettes was gone! In a matter of 10 minutes, somebody had come, unscrewed the cuvette holder, and walked off with it like a bandit, leaving me stranded. I rush down a floor to try their spectrophotometer, which had an ‘out of use’ sign on it. Thanks to my quick wit and creative thinking, I was finally able to duct-tape the cuvette in place, ghetto style, without covering any part through which the reading is taken, but of course, by this time, the reading was slightly over the desired 0.8. There’s always something to ruin my experiments.
Winner: My fabulous duct-taping skills did not happen soon enough and my timing was off. Therefore, the victor was the spectrophotometer… or the person who stole the cuvette holder (seriously, who does that?!)

Battle #3: Julie versus Centrifuge

5:45pm, tissue culture room

The battle to end all battles. At the end of a long, tiring, frustrating day which began 10 hours earlier when I walked into to lab, I reached the home stretch. Load up the contents of the 4 flasks into 700mL plastic tubes, insert them into the centrifuge, spin down for a half hour, discard supernatant, and stick in the -80 freezer overnight. Now, honestly, what could possibly be more simple than operating a centrifuge? It must be the most, well, foolproof of all laboratory equipment. And, as previously stated – I am that fool that can screw it up. The model was slightly different than what I had been using during my summer lab rotation, on which the inner lid was actually attached to the outer lid. I wasn’t aware that they were separate on this model, and the way the inner lid was hanging on the top, it actually looked like it was attached. I inserted my samples, started to shut the outer lid, and wham – the inner lid fell off and landed on top. Nothing seemed damaged, so I simply went to pull the inner lid out – but it wouldn’t budge. Amazingly, it fell perfectly in line, just upside-down, to how it should be screwed in, but somehow, it wedged its way in, and I couldn’t get it out. Not wanting to admit to my own stupidity, I first tracked down another first year PhD girl and asked her for help. When the two of us couldn’t get the lid out, I knew I was in trouble. Next stop: ask one of the lab techs for help, particularly since she is the one who has used the centrifuge in the past. She looked at it, furrowed her brow, and put in a good 10 minute wrestling match with the lid, and finally gave up. Thankfully with her help, we were able to squeeze out my sample bottles so my experiment wasn’t completely lost, but we definitely bent the wedged-in centrifuge lid in the process. At least this allowed me to transfer my samples into smaller centrifuge bottles and spin them down in a different centrifuge. However, even that had to have its flaws - apparently, one of the smaller centrifuge bottles had a small crack in it which nobody had noticed, and as I was walking upstairs with them, a small stream of bacterial culture started to leak right down my sleeve... ewwwww. I was about ready to go dunk myself in bleach and dive straight into the autoclave for sterlization! Later in the evening, an older graduate student, a post-doc, and a PI from another lab were involved in the fix-the-centrifuge process, with no progress whatsoever. Yes, today I single-handedly managed to break an idiot-proof $12,000 centrifuge. Awesome.
Winner: Obviously, the centrifuge. I was no match whatsoever.

At the end of the day, the overall champion is quite obvious. I just am not up to par with the cunning, sly, and downright nasty laboratory equipment of the medical center research building. Someone really should come take away my lab coat and my pipettes before I lose a finger to the luminometer or ignite myself and go up in flames courtesy of a bunsen burner... but when I do, don't worry, I'll be prepared to tell you the whole story so someone can get a chuckle out of my blatent stupidity.

Disgruntled Julie: A Post-Doc in Progress?!

I spent this summer slaving away in an epidemiology lab, completing my first of the required three laboratory rotations. I actually enjoyed the research significantly more than I was expecting, although did not generate any mass quantities of data myself (the idea of rotations are to help you choose a dissertation lab – not to actually get a publication). But one day, while I was pipetting away in an attempt to identify mitochondrial mutations in the buccal cells and lymphocytes of smokers in hopes of finding biomarkers for lung cancer, I was asked to co-author an epidemiology review paper on the effects of alcohol on breast cancer. Being the new, energetic, desperate-to-please-everyone graduate student, I naturally jumped at the opportunity. So it was only a review paper and not publishing my own data, but still, it’s never a bad idea to get your name on a paper and get experience with scientific writing, right? It seemed like a grand idea at the time, so I gave my PI and post-doc the thumbs up that I would help out.

Writing my actual component to the paper took longer than expected, and I spent a significant amount of time revising and rewriting the section written by the post-doc with whom I worked all summer, mostly trying to make sense of his difficult to understand grammar (although I will give him credit for doing well, considering he just learned English a few years ago). Finally, the paper was done, and submitted to the PI of the lab for his opinion. He added in his comments; I spent a weekend making revisions while simultaneously studying for the biochemistry and methods exams, and that was that. Yesterday, however, the paper was sent back to me yet again, just to read through it and identify any last-minute changes that should be made. I skimmed through it, saved it to my desktop to focus on tonight, and just as I was saving it – noticed something that made me pause.

Across the top of the page, in large, bold lettering was the title of the paper. Below that, the list of authors, which read: Name of Post-Doc Ph.D., Disgruntled Julie Ph.D., Name-of-PI M.D. I was listed as already having my PhD. I stopped, dreamingly gazing at those three little letters after my name for a bit, realizing how nice they looked, and then grudgingly deleted them and sadly accepted that they will not belong there for another 6.5 to 7 years. So sad. Sigh.

Then I realized that the post-doc with whom I worked added a PhD after my name because he still thought that I was in the lab as a post-doc. I attempted a few times this summer to explain that I was just a student, and I thought he grasped that concept – but apparently not. This would explain why he continued to insist that I attended the post-doc meetings with my PI – I thought he just asked me to come along because I was working on a project with him and something may be mentioned that was overlooked when I sat in on the pre-doc meeting with the PI, but the whole time he thought I was in the same position as him. Then I remembered that at the end of my time in the lab, he apparently went to the PI and gushed on and on about me and how much he hoped I would return to the lab, because of I am apparently “highly knowledgeable, very intelligent, an independent thinker, and quick to master new procedures with excellent technique.” And he said all that, comparing me to what he would expect a postdoc to be able to do. Yes, that ego-boosting realization came to me today at just the proper time, after a day of feeling completely incompetent and useless in the lab and unable to even do menial tasks like autoclaving without ending up with one badly burnt left thumb.

More Buzz than a Beehive

I think this week more rumors are being produced in the labs than actual research. With the director leaving so soon (December 1^st), individuals are beginning to panic and things are becoming frantic. On two separate occasions now, I have witnessed post-docs walking through the hall with a stack of CVs, handing them out to the PIs who will be staying, practically begging for positions in their labs. It’s hard to stay calm and remain convinced that things will not fall apart when this is the atmosphere by which I am surrounded.

In the lab meeting this week, our PI sat down and told us what he knew about the situation, and stopped to ask those of us in his lab (the post-docs, lab techs, and lowly graduate students) if we had any questions regarding the loss of the director. While I personally couldn’t think of any to ask, it was reassuring to know that had I thought of one, there would be someone willing to attempt to answer. This is not the first situation in which I have questioned my right to dig into larger issues. Let’s face it -- as a first year PhD student, I’m at the bottom of the ladder here (okay, so technically masters’ students are probably even slightly below me – strictly because they are only here for one year and then graduate and move on, so they don’t share the same long-term concerns that the PhD students do) and I often find myself asking whether or not it is appropriate for me to inquire about certain things.

For example, I have been thinking quite a lot lately about the lab in which I should do my third, and hopefully final, rotation. I’d really like to make it count – not that I haven’t enjoyed my first two rotations, but I am hoping that I really click with my last rotation and find a lab that I know is right for me (yes, I realize how naive that is and that it won’t actually happen). There is a PI with whom I am interested in working, and had discussed the potential about doing a lab rotation back in May – but since then, several faculty members had warned me that he may not have the funding at this time to support a graduate student (after our second year, our stipend is picked up by our thesis lab, and while many students get their own grants, I’m not sure I’m ready to take that leap of faith in my own scientific competency that I can actually get my own grant – I want to know that my PI can support me if my grant proposal is turned down!). If I am going to rotate with him, I want to know that I can financially go into that lab if I decide to – but how do I address the question? Am I just supposed to walk in and say “Hi Dr. X., I’m really interested in your research and your lab, but well, can you afford me?” Clearly, I would word it a tad more eloquently, but the thought of walking in and asking about funds, even if it is done indirectly, still makes me feel needy and whiney, like I’m some kind of high-maintenance girl making sure the latest boyfriend-of-the-month can afford to keep me living the lifestyle to which I have become accustomed. I feel like it is an important question and I have the right to know the answer – but how am I supposed to appropriately address the issue? Coming out and asking feels so… direct and forward and not within my rights as a first year student. How am I supposed to question grant funding when I’m still so old-fashioned as to call all the faculty members as Dr. So-and-So even though within the program itself, everybody just addresses them by their first name? I know that in grad school, nobody walks you through the process, but I wish I had a better idea of the guidelines between looking out for your own future and inquiring appropriately and looking like a self-absorbed inappropriate ass.

On a lighter note, I got my free university-sponsored flu shot on Wednesday. Because something like 87% of the population is right-handed, the chairs at all the stations were set up to get the shot in your left arm, and because I am completely oblivious, I just sat down without thinking it through. It dawned on me, however, after the nursing student had cleaned off the spot and had the needle out and was about to inject, that as a left-handed individual who tends to get sore arms following shots, I should get the flu shot in my right arm. The sane response would be “Oh, excuse me, I’m left handed, so can I get this in the other arm?” But we all know purely by the fact that I thought it would be a good idea to go for my PhD in oncology that clearly, I am not sane, and my response upon realizing this was to jump up and squeal “Oh! That’s my pipetting side! Can I get it in my right arm?” Yes, my first thought was not that I am left-handed in terms of writing or any other daily required activities – it was that my left arm is used for pipetting. Apparently, laboratory bench work has taken over as the #1 most important use for my left hand.

Laboratory Fashionista

Laboratory Fashionista. Let’s face it – two words that just don’t belong together. When I think of biomedical researchers, I don’t tend to think of the most fashionable individuals – which is why I find my Friday evening elevator conversation so ironic. It started with a complement on my jacket, and turned into those in the elevator agreeing that I always look so well put-together and presentable, culminating with, “Julie, you’re so fashionable” and stating that I often look like I walked off the pages of a J.Crew catalogue.

I found myself having to stifle a laugh – if anything, I find my daily laboratory wear to be on the opposite end of the spectrum. Granted, it’s nice on days when you wake up late or aren’t feeling well to just be able to throw on an old pair of jeans and a sweatshirt and still be dressed appropriately, but most days I look in my closet at the A-line skirts and heels I used to wear every day when I interned on Captiol Hill and feel like an underdressed slob. I am entering a field where my daily routine of cheap jeans (I refuse to wear pants that cost over $30 into the lab ever, courtesy of my fabulous track record of either spilling things myself or having people around me spill things), a button down shirt, a J.Crew argyle v-neck sweater, and of course my high-class super-fashionable trusty New Balance sneakers (okay, I’ll admit to owning in multiple colors so they match whatever I’m wearing but still, I just wear sneakers every day) – has made me among the elite well-dressed of the medical center research building? Oh, and let’s not forget the best part – the lab coat and purple nitrile gloves! I know, so hot! I feel like I need to start doing something to maintain this title – like matching my lab powerpoint presentations to what I am wearing!

Friday evening I attended the Jewish Medical Student Association Shabbat services, and I was the only biomedical graduate student in attendance. When I introduced myself and what I was studying, there was a general attitude of impression, and one of the students even commented “Oh wow, a real doctor” (funny, I always thought the M.D.’s were the real doctors). It made me start to wonder when in the medical school process students go from thinking PhDs are smart and impressive to thinking they are the unintelligent who secretly wanted to go to medical school. I happen to have met quite a few of the medical students, and all of them have been impressed that I am going for a PhD and tend to think that it is a more difficult process than medical school, but almost all of the doctors I have encountered, including those at this university (see Big Pimpin’) tend to look down on researchers (except, of course, those M.D.’s who are doing research themselves). I wonder when this attitude change occurs – anyone looking for a sociology project?

And on that note, I’m off to study for Thursday’s biostatistics exam, or do something else totally important, like figure out what I’ll be wearing next Monday so I can color coordinate my lab presentation PowerPoint slides. :oP

Fundless and Directorless

I’ve been meaning to share the latest news for a few days now, but just haven’t taken the time to sit down and think of how to phrase everything. I suppose now, while I sit in lab after finishing up experiments for the day with nothing to do until the Jewish Medical Student Association Shabbat in an hour and a half, would be the ideal time.

It’s been a tough week. After finishing up midterms last week, we were all looking forward to a nice, relaxing, exam-free week of classes and lab… and we’re still waiting for that relaxation part. As for me, personally, there have been a lot of negatives – both program related, personal related, and football related (Big Ben’s knee surgery means he is out for 1 – 3 games, and since we all know I bleed Steelers black and gold, it is sad, sad news indeed). But since this isn’t intended to be a place for my own personal or football related problems, we’ll stick with the program.

When I decided to start writing this blog, my original intention was to discuss all the ridiculous aspects of my graduate school experiences. This summer during my first rotation, I found myself in a slew of absurd situations that I wasn’t quite expecting in graduate school – be it the time the lab tech accidentally spilled my long-awaited buccal cell mouthwash samples all over me or the time the crazy lady in the elevator literally whacked me across the shins with her cane because I didn’t start off every morning in the chapel praying to Jesus for help with finding a cure for cancer (yes, that really did happen), or the day I was so focused on troubleshooting my non-working PCR that I obliviously stepped onto the elevator without realizing that it was actually a foot and a half below the normal level, causing me to fall completely sprawled out into the elevator in front of a chuckling audience of rather attractive oncology residents. I guess the way I saw it was that if so much happened in just a summer, then imagine the possibilities over the next seven years, and if I was going to suffer through these situations for the next too many years to come, then someone (i.e., you) should at least get some entertainment and laughs out of my misery and humiliation.

Sometimes, however, things that go wrong are completely and totally outside of your control. Sometimes, it’s not just accidentally using 1M hydrochloric acid instead of 1N (oops – I learned my lesson). This week has had an unanticipated seriousness and graveness to it, first with the announcement that the proposed $100 million cut to cancer research funding is official, and second with the official news that the head of our cancer center is leaving. The funding cut is just terrible news for the field as a whole, as investigators are already scrambling to try to obtain grant money, and now there is $100 million less to dish out for vital research. That, however, has been pushed aside by the more eminent news of the cancer center/chair of oncology’s decision to leave and move on elsewhere. The irony is that I interviewed at the school to which he will be going, and the program kept emphasizing how their cancer center was in the process of deciding between two top-quality well-known individuals to come take over the position of director. When I chose not to attend that university, I promptly forgot about the issue. Funny how the same issue is now coming back to haunt me. The loss of the director itself hardly impacts me – but the problem comes from the sudden rumors flying left and right through the program about the number of faculty who are already definitely or are attempting to follow the director to his new location (we can only hope that these are indeed only rumors, and are not all true). These investigators lead all the big-name, large-grant labs, and I cannot imagine what will happen to the program if they are all successful in their attempts to follow the director. While it may give an opportunity for smaller PI’s to move up the ladder, the actual number of labs will drastically decrease until a new director brings in his own researchers, but that process could take upwards of year to happen. Lab space is already hard to come by – I have been turned down by several PIs already in my attempts to rotate with them – and I can only assume that now it will be very challenging indeed to find someone with enough space to take me on a thesis student. This just adds in a whole new difficulty factor which I was not expecting to encounter during my attempts at a PhD. There are a lot of questions now and while we all continue to study diligently for our classes and focus on our lab work, deep down we are all questioning what will happen to us and our program over the coming months.