A Rush of Blood to the Head

The Friday night 2 days before Halloween is a bad night to try to get to sleep at 11:30 in a first-year boys’ dorm. It’s now very late and I still can’t sleep and I’m going to write about my awful week. This is exactly the sort of night I had in mind when I started this blog, enormous failure that it’s been so far. Awake in bed, listening to the wind and the chatter of people whose night is still young at the entrance to my building (right below my window), suffering from a weird headache from straining my face-muscles to see out of my not-quite-strong-enough glasses, feeling either too cold or too warm in whatever ratio of blankets I try, and not quenched by the Mountain Dew Code Red I thought would resolve my thirst. Feeling sorry for myself and recapping the week are terrible options next to sleep, but I won’t be having any of that soon.

 

Sometimes, it’s really easy to hate everything. People are a start. People who are awake and loud at 1:15 when you really just want to sleep. People who take down and probably throw away the awesome/adorable window clings you put on the doors of your dorm with other Halloween decorations that the RA said would be ok as long as they weren’t blocking people’s faces. People who take your soap, shampoo, and toothpaste when you accidentally leave them in the bathroom. People who steal your wireless mouse when you leave it in a study room where people often leave personal items. People who don’t show effort, initiative, or even an inkling to do their job when they’re being paid to do it and the show opens at the end of the month. People who are supposed to be in charge who won’t make decisions so that you can get things done on time. People who are more organized, smarter, more in shape, more talented, and nicer than you.

 

Then you can also hate yourself when you constantly waste time, fail to communicate with people who you care about, manage not to complete simple or difficult tasks on time, can’t seem to eat, sleep, exercise, or behave in ways that are healthy, consistently return to bad habits, and generally respond to things emotionally and spiritually in selfish, judgmental ways contrary to what you really want yourself to be.

 

Finally, it’s easy to hate life when everything seems to be going wrong.

 

A brief overview of my general issues, and then a whole story of one of the things that really makes me sad:

 

1.      I do work study in the Theater Department doing tech, and the current show opens this next week. Our technical director is in England on sabbatical for the semester, and the head of the theater department is responsible for both the technical and dramatic direction of the show, as well as designing a new curriculum and balancing a number of other tasks. He’s had some very ambitious ideas for the show, but much of the design has been left to students to come up with on our own, of course only with his final approval. Because he has had so much to do, his leadership has simply been absent much of the time, and decisions have not been made, delaying work on vital aspects of the show. In the meantime, the official shop Foreman of the work study group has generally not taken hold of her leadership and has not been willing to take charge and tell people what to do to provoke more effort. I don’t feel personally qualified for the sort of leadership that is necessary, but my frustration has nevertheless led me to step up and boss people around a bunch of the time. I’ve gotten some things done, but I’ve felt like I’ve been overstepping, and tasks have still not been completed with the efficiency required. The set remains incomplete, with only 3 days of work left before the show opens (that puts us at about 2 weeks behind).

2.       As a science major in a prestigious honors program, I ought to have high academic priorities. My primary course, a tutorial on genes, has two 2-hour weekly meetings for which I must prepare extensively, in addition to a research project that, ideally, should use up at least 4 hours a week. I also have my own research to be thinking about, with cells to maintain every few days, papers to read, experiments to run, and future objectives to think about and design. The main technique I use takes 2 days to complete, and if any of the dozen or so steps go wrong, I end up with no results and no idea where to correct (this happened to me last weekend). I’m also in Organic Chemistry, which takes a fair amount of time and work on its own. The week before last, we had our midterm and a lab report due, in addition to the regular preparation that goes into each class and weekly lab (labs that often last 3 hours and frequently go wrong). In general, I’m pretty behind on all of these things all the time.

3.      I’m fairly involved in Campus Ministries, working as a Community Advocate in my dorm, joining a team to lead worship, and participating in Creative Ministries. I feel my work as a CA suffers a bunch when I get so spread out and behind, and I often wonder whether I’m actually helping anyone to begin with. I don’t think I’ve actually contributed very much to the work of Creative Ministries and find the brainstorming sessions more frustrating than anything. Above all, I remain spiritually lost. I don’t doubt my faith and hope in Christ, but I live by my own will, not feeling, and rarely seeking, the presence of God in my daily life. I know that I am weak and can’t live without His grace, but I consistently fail to live my life guided by that truth.

4.      My health is in a very bad place. I’m not eating right, I’m not getting enough sleep, and I’m not exercising. I stay up until 3 and can’t force myself out of bed until I’ve hit snooze from 9 to 11. Or 12. I’m addicted to Diet Dr. Pepper. I’d like to eat healthy, but it’s so much more convenient to grab a to-go box of fried everything from the Cage, burning through my dwindling cache of Cardinal Dollars (Why’d they have to get rid of Meal Exchange? Why?). And for some reason they changed the Skip-a-Meal program, which last year allowed me to give the money wasted on one meal during the week that I probably wouldn’t be using anyway to someone who needed it. This year, Skip-a-Meal is only on Wednesday for dinner, probably the worst time it could possibly be (i.e. the day of service learning and improv practice and before tutorial and organic lab). So I eat unhealthy food at irregular times. No wonder I feel out of shape.

 

So, those are the main things. And the worst examples of them happened in the last two weeks. But this last thing just really, really got me down.

 

A while back, a friend of mine told me she was going to give blood soon and we started talking about it. I’ve never given blood before, but I didn’t know how I would handle it. I get a bit squeamish around blood sometimes and may have almost passed out the one time I’ve ever had to have blood drawn. (But I didn’t pass out) My friend was appalled and went on to extol the importance of blood donation, so I resolved to give it a try the next time there was a blood drive at our school. This was a few months back. Three weeks ago, another friend told me she was going to a Community Blood Center that had gotten a hold of her because she has O^– blood. (I don’t even know my blood type, which only adds to my guilt about never having done this before) She invited me to come along, and I thought it would be a great chance to conquer my squeamishness and be a good person. I was really excited about it. So, the Tuesday before last, I went along to the Community Blood Center. Everything was going great, but despite being super-pumped, the cold room, hospital smell, sight of bags filling with blood, and not-at-all comforting video of testimonials graphically detailing accidents and diseases that had required blood donation (and how awesome the people were whose blood helped out) overcame me, and I chickened out, knowing that the blood drive was coming up at Jewell the next week and I’d have another opportunity to try again in a more familiar setting. So, my friend made fun of me a little bit, and I made plans to give the next Friday. As I mentioned before, that week and the next became incredibly stressful and depressing, but I knew that everything was going to be ok, because on Friday I’d be giving blood and making the world a better place. I seriously spent the whole week in anticipation of this momentous event. So, Friday rolled along and things remained bad as ever. I left the Bio/Chem research presentation meeting early with a skip in my step. I got to the drive, signed in, read through all the necessary info, and was called into a cubicle where all the private information was disclosed. I felt really cold and a bit light-headed, but I was going to get through this. Everything was fine: my iron count was good, my temperature normal. Having my finger pricked wasn’t bad at all, except for blood also coming out of the cut that the blood-drive person failed to notice while she was choosing a finger to prick. Foolishly thinking that talking it out would dispel the slight anxiety and dizziness I was feeling, I mentioned that I had never given blood before and that I sometimes got squeamish around blood. In response, the woman noticed that I was losing color and almost immediately decided that I shouldn’t give. I thought they might have some sort of plan for this situation, surely people had lost color before and still been able to go through with it. As medical-types, shouldn’t they be trained to make people feel better and get through this sort of thing? She of course told me not to worry about it, plenty of people can’t give blood, but I was in such a state of shock that I didn’t really know what to do. So I left. All of that excitement and anticipation, only to once again feel squeamish. And to get turned down, even though I was determined to overcome it. It was one of the worst feelings I’ve ever had.

 

In the hours since, I’ve done little more than tell people about my awful, awful life and how nothing is ever going to be ok. Luckily, I have some friends who can help me feel better about stuff, but for a little while longer, I’m not going to have a terribly happy life. May the next week be less miserable than the last.

So much for that brilliant plan…

I’m beginning to think I was right to think starting a blog was a bad idea. Or mostly that it doesn’t suit me too well.

Why do I say this? I say this because in the whole time I’ve been back at school, I have written a single post, and that one hardly even counts. More than that, I’ve only told three people about my blog, all on separate occasions, after which they likely forgot about all 3 posts of it, which means I’m currently writing to a non-existent audience and still expecting them to judge me [That was a joke. Please think it’s funny, imaginary audience.] I even feel guilty that by not posting every 4 days, I am letting down the people who are not reading my blog.

Nevertheless, I will not give up on this endeavor yet, no matter how tempting.

You see, I am a bad planner. I tend to let things happen as they will on a day-to-day basis. I don’t think too much about the future. After all, if I did, the resulting anxiety would leave me unable to function.

…

And…a month and a half later, I return to this post as it remains incomplete. Surprise, surprise.

Song of the Day 8/26

You get some interesting responses when you wear your Modest Mouse shirt with a scary-looking cat on it. Such as:

“That’s what that band is called!…I prefer CAKE, but I don’t like them for a bad reason.”

“Modest Mouse…I figured it was a band. I think it’s really interesting that your generation likes so many smaller, not-as-mainstream groups.”

“Hmm.”

“Hey, Modest Mouse!” *points to Modest Mouse poster in office*

“Ohmygosh! I like your cat!”

So, anyway, Modest Mouse is a band that I like, and I have a cool shirt that I got when I went to see them in July. You should see it sometime.

I’m going to use this as an awesome transition into a new segment I’m calling the Song of the Day, in which I post a new song everyday (clever, right?). So without further ado, 3rd Planet by Modest Mouse:

Thank You, Ms. Arrington

“At such a time it seems natural and good to me to ask myself these questions. What do I believe in? What must I fight for and what must I fight against?
Our species is the only creative species, and it has only one creative instrument, the individual mind and spirit of a man. Nothing was ever created by two men. There are no good collaborations, whether in music, in art, in poetry, in mathematics, in philosophy. Once the miracle of creation has taken place, the group can build and extend it, but the group never invents anything. The preciousness lies in the lonely mind of a man.
And now the forces marshaled around the concept of the group have declared a war of extermination on that preciousness, the mind of man. By disparagement, by starvation, by repressions, forced direction, and the stunning hammerblows of conditioning, the free, roving mind is being pursued, roped, blunted, drugged. It is a sad suicidal course our species seems to have taken.
And this I believe: that the free exploring mind of the individual human is the most valuable thing in the world. And this I would fight for: the freedom of the mind to take any direction it wishes, undirected. And this I must fight against: any idea, religion, or government which limits or destroys the individual. This is what I am and what I am about. I can understand why a system built on a pattern must try to destroy the free mind, for that is the one thing which can by inspection destroy such a system. Surely I can understand this, and I hate it and I will fight against it to preserve the one thing that separates us from the uncreative beasts. If the glory can be killed, we are lost.”

I began reading East of Eden a few days ago. It is…profound. I have much to read before I can adequately comment on the powerful novel it promises to be, but after reading this, I could hardly contain my excitement.

If the above is not explanation is not enough, allow me to elaborate. Over the past year or so, I have come to realize that I am a steadfast individualist. The beginning of my college education consisted of two courses in which I rather thoroughly studied the writings of John Stuart Mill, Utilitarianism and On Liberty. To say the least, I became rather adamant in defending Mill’s ideas, upon which I will no doubt expound at a later time. In short, I believe the liberty of thought, expression, and individualism protects and promotes the creative and rational faculty of humankind. And that faculty is pretty much the most important thing there is.

So, when I came upon this passage, I got excited.

John Steinbeck had a talent for molding stories with lush imagery, captivating, believable characters, and wise allegory. Often mixed in with his honest storytelling are dramatic shifts in perspective, allowing him to comment on the world at large before returning to the main plot. He did it about every other chapter in The Grapes of Wrath. When it was the summer reading for Pre-AP English my sophomore year of high school, this was my favorite part. No one in the class agreed, but most of them thought it was too long anyway.

East of Eden is about an era very different from this one. The Turn of the Century, abounding with change and forward momentum, could not even begin to anticipate the technological, political, and social upheavals that would define 20th Century, not to mention the 21st. But Steinbeck’s concern for the creative individual mind against the force of the monster collective  is especially relevant today and perhaps universally so.

This is what I believe. I like it when people take hold of their ideas and make beautiful things. No one should be able to stop that, ever.

Learning by Osmosis

This is a picture of a lazy cat attempting to take in large amounts of knowledge without having to work for it. Presumably, the high concentration of information stored in those books tied to his person will osmose into the less concentrated region of his brain. How clever of him. And while his antics may seem harmless, even comical to those who don’t like learning things the hard way, they have in fact committed a terrible wrong.

Of all the absurd things I get angry about, “learning by osmosis” is near the top of the list. I don’t know whether Garfield or someone before him invented this turn of phrase, but it is a disgrace to intelligent thought and discussion. I once yelled at a friend of mine for saying it. I think I hurt her feelings. It was mean. But it upsets me that even intelligent people like her have come to accept such a nonsensical idea as part of their vocabulary.

First of all, the whole concept is ridiculous. That’s not how education works. Knowledge will never physically flow from books into someone’s head. Maybe metaphorically, but that doesn’t make a person holding a large tome against their head look any less silly than Garfield dressed in his book-outfit (which I just decided needs to be Lady Gaga’s next fashion move). Sure, the night before a test, a really stressed-out student might love for this to work and even believe it if she’s had enough Monsters, but at best it’s wishful thinking that can only distract from real ways of learning.

But that’s not what upsets me about this abomination.

The thing that really steams my broccoli is that in describing this inane phenomenon, the wordsmith behind it has flagrantly misused the term osmosis. To give you a little science lesson, osmosis refers to the diffusion of water across a semi-permeable membrane. That is, if fluid is separated by a membrane through which only water can travel, water will move from the side of the membrane with lower solute concentration (or higher water concentration) to that with more solute (less water). The solution on the side of the membrane with less solute is referred to as hypotonic, while that with more solute is hypertonic. Water will  travel across the membrane toward the hypertonic side until equilibrium is reached and both sides are isotonic.

That’s osmosis. This concept is extremely important in how individual cells and those in the body maintain their environment. If a cell is in a hypo- or hypertonic solution, the flow of water in or out of the membrane will cause the cell to shrivel or expand, killing it or preventing it from functioning. So, if we believe that books have a higher knowledge concentration than our brains, this is what osmosis would actually do.

Not a pretty picture.

What I think the phrase is actually getting at is simple diffusion, the principle that particles will move from areas of higher concentration to lower concentration. Now learning by diffusion might work a little better, but it still doesn’t happen in real life. The problem is that “learning by osmosis” implies that osmosis is the same as diffusion. Osmosis may be a form of diffusion, but it clearly has further implications. Garfield could be to blame for multitudes growing up with this misconception. I, for one, won’t stand for it.

This post may make me seem like a neurotic grammar-nazi, but I believe that correctness in speech should matter. I will not waste my education by allowing things that are wrong to become acceptable, even on such a minute scale.

Take that, Garfield.

Prologue: This Is Not a Blog

Recently, a bunch of my friends (ok, like 3) have started blogs so they can tell people about the exciting things they’re doing this summer. And because I really want to fit in, I keep having these nagging thoughts like “Hey, I should start a blog!” or “I have some feelings. Maybe I could write about them in a blog.” or mostly “Karen has a cool blog! I wish I could have a cool blog like her. [sad face]”

I have actually spent a lot of time thinking about this, because there are some good things about having a blog, such as:

1. Blogs are cool.

2. Some people think I’m a good writer and would like what I have to say.

3. It would be nice to have something with regularity to make my life a little more organized.

4. It would force me to write, which is good.

But then I remember all the reasons that I should not start a blog. Mostly:

1. I actually really, really hate writing. Especially when I have to do it.

2. I’m not organized at all and would never keep a blog updated.

3. I probably have nothing interesting to say and most people don’t care at all about the random, neurotic mess that is my stream of consciousness.

4. I would stress a lot about what I would write and would spend hours trying to come up with something interesting to say, wasting time and making me explode on the inside a little.

5. I’m not even going on a cool trip out of the country, so I have no reason that people need to be updated about goings-on.

6. The only reason I want to start a blog in the first place is that some of my friends have blogs and I’m jealous and want to fit in, which is no reason at all.

So, I don’t think I should start a blog. It’s a pretty bad idea.

But because I kept having these nagging thoughts, I decided to compromise and write this note. So, now I can tell people what I’m doing over the summer in a not-a-blog sort of way.

Come Sunday, I’ll be headed back up to William Jewell (that school I go to, for those of you who don’t know) to do research with the biology department. I’ll be working with Dr. Lori Wetmore on her research with a line of brain cancer cells.

A lot of people who have heard about this have naturally come to the conclusion that I am going to single-handedly cure cancer over the summer. There are a few ways I see this going:

Archaeology: probably not the best way to find the cure

Or:

If only it were that simple.

Finally:

That's Will Smith and his dog from I Am Legend. Let's hope this doesn't actually happen.

Meanwhile, what I’m doing will look more like this:

Most of my work is going to be waiting for cells to grow, transferring cells between flasks, and learning Western blot, which is a really cool technique involving gel, electricity, and fluorescence. Using this technique, my goal is to determine whether or not the particular cell line we’re working with expresses a certain protein, PTEN. PTEN is part of the Akt pathway, which regulates cell survival. When expressed, PTEN inhibits proteins that would otherwise enable a cancer cell to survive despite cell-death signals. Thus, the presence or absence of PTEN impacts the effectiveness of anti-cancer drugs. This is one step in a full characterization of the cell line, which can then be used as a reference when treating a brain tumor that resembles the cell line.

Many different cancers exist, and there may not be one cure. Scientific research involves a lot of steps, and while the work I am doing now and will probably do in the future may not be directly correlated with curing anything, it is minute steps like these that will allow better diagnosis and treatment.

Well, that was all very interesting. I will be at Jewell for most of June and July. I have no idea what my daily schedule will be like, but it’s sure to be engaging and probably busy at times.

I’ll also have plenty of free time. I’ll be living in one of the dorms (Semple), and though I won’t have a car, I should be able to keep myself occupied and occasionally get a ride from Heather (who is already at Jewell preparing for her exciting Oxbridge Summer Research). That reminds me, I’m not getting paid at all for the work I do. I applied for a grant, but there was only one paid position in the biology department and someone else got it. So, I’ll just be paid in knowledge and experience. Still good.

I plan on finding my way to the Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art as many times as I can, and I’m going to see Modest Mouse with Heather on July 6th.

So those are my summer plans. I can’t wait to not blog about them.

Update:

Obviously, this was written over a month ago, and in the meantime, something has changed and I’ve decided to actually start a blog, making this post incredibly ironic. Tons of people were hoping this would happen and now it has: woooooooooooooo!

As far as the science part goes, it turns out Western blot isn’t as simple as my comic depicts it. More like 10 panels like that one, alternating between me standing next to a centrifuge, me pipeting things between all sorts of containers, me standing next to a machine whose only job is to shake things back and forth (not kidding), and me calling security to let me into the lab when it’s locked. The last panel is pretty accurate so far.