The non-scientific PhD

It has been about 72 hours now, since the most nerve-wrecking exam I was hoping would be over forever. About five years ago, my dad and I traveled by train along the river Rhine enjoying the blissful beauty of Germany. It was my third time in the country and I have never had any big expectations from it. We arrived in Heidelberg on the night of the 17th of September, a very rainy night. Our first night there, we were tricked into paying a high sum to the taxi driver who drove us for just 5 minutes to the WG (pronounced as waygay in German, meaning a shared apartment) I had only seen via Skype. Dad and I settled in, enjoyed the small town of Heidelberg the next day and soon it was Monday morning.

It was about 2 years since I had left India by that time. I was used to the ways of Europe, however, Google Maps was very much needed to get to my new place of work at the University Hospital Heidelberg/ University of Heidelberg. Dad and I had a good breakfast at a Cafe on the way and went to meet my PhD supervisor whom I had last met during my interview five months ago and never informed ahead that my dad was coming along (never do that. I mean if you take your Dad, at least let him know in advance). I knocked on his door with my dad by my side (!) and we then went in and had an introductory chat blah blah etc and eventually my dad went home and I stayed on to attend my first lab meeting, a scheduled one that takes place every Monday at 2 pm. This was probably the first thing I entered into my 'PhD calendar'. It felt so big. (attended about a 100 now...)

I remember the initial weeks/ months of starting as a PhD student- They. Were. Busy. As a new student in the lab, I was tasked to learn some basic techniques the lab does with different people. This also means you must work as it fits their schedule. Soon the days were getting full and having to think about all this during the day made the nights also restless. But every new experiment and every new result was exciting. Very much exciting, but it slowly fades as the experiment does not work the 898895997236th time. This now results in a change of thoughts... Presenting your data to a group of people is an integral part of science. It is meant to constructively improve your work and help you to broaden your thoughts. But presenting negative data feels like you represent that data- because you generated it. It is normal for an experiment to fail continuously for months, although we tweak a single parameter every time to try and see if it would work. Years later I went on to hear some wise words...

"If science worked as fast as we expect it to, we would not be able to catch up with it!".

I wish I had heard this before, but not sure if it would have made sense back then. Therefore the initial years were filled with depths of failed experiments and occasional high peaks of reproducible/ quality data. Amidst those busy days, I managed to fit in some evenings to learn German, which is one of the best decisions I've ever made, and after three years gave up because life was becoming very very scheduled. Like this below.

Peers form a very important part of a PhD journey. Of all the aspects, they support as pillars of strength. One of the biggest is- they show you that failures are part of everyone's life. It's up to you to decide if this is a positive or a negative perspective. I believe it is a positive one. I have cried about my 100th failed experiment in a cafe with a colleague who offered words of comfort. I have sacrificed tens of mice for experiments that still do not work. Do not get me started on the plastic waste we create. But then when somewhere someone creates an mRNA vaccine against a pandemic that is very real, you know that giving up is not a choice. Because if scientists gave up, we will not see another bright sunny day. Occasional guest lectures by scientists shines a ray of light on our dark days by giving hope that we are all working towards something very big together. And you get back to the lab and start all over again. Repetition plays a strong part in achieving the goal and hence perseverance is key. If you don't already have it, you will gain it in the course of a PhD.

Mid-life crisis is real. Mid-PhD crisis is equally real. Depending on what project you have and how the initial progress was, the crisis begins somewhere in the end of the second year and stretches on for 1-2 years. About 2 years into my PhD I was well informed to know which aspects of my project had long term potential and which ones did not. There were bits and pieces of new projects always emerging in a lab, and most of it is usually not followed up. As my internal crisis was building up towards the end of my second year, I decided to look for additional projects that I could potentially contribute to (because the ones I started with were dying :(, and that is also normal in a way). I approached my Supervisor directly to discuss if I could take on new projects, to be careful enough to not overstep on others work, and to not give the impression of lacking the ability to take ones own project to the finish line. This probably was a turning point in my PhD- I risked being called out and it took a great deal of energy to stand up for myself to my Supervisor. That act of confidence paved way to the start of so many new things I learned in the lab. A huge part of the credit goes to my Supervisor who listened to my genuine request and gave me the appropriate direction. I still wonder some days what would be of me if I was hated for it.

Standing up for yourself seems to be a good thing and I learned during my PhD that I am capable of doing it.

Coming back to the busy schedules. This is one aspect of my time as a PhD student that I never managed to gracefully navigate. And I see time and again every PhD student following in the same footsteps. This is mostly because for us, our projects are our babies and we take it very personal. With such an attachment also comes the energy to push projects through the finish line. We work and we over work. Even though I complain about this a lot, I liked doing it. It gave a sense of accomplishment. Such a feeling makes you achieve things you would have never achieved elsewhere, but an unhealthy level of it takes you to the grave. By the end of my fourth year, I had supervised several students, simultaneously handled several projects and was becoming pretty good at multi-tasking. In-between these busy weeks were always either a trip to the US or India to meet family, or a trip to Egypt to meet some friends or a trip across the border to meet some known family friends etc etc. These occasional escape routes refreshed my mind, helped to gain new perspective and funneled energy that was very much required to continue work in the lab. But when a pandemic hit and you are anchored to home, time is all you have and work is all you can do. At least for me it was. I took holidays but spent 10 hours a day working on my thesis. If I did not work in the lab, I was working at home. I was working and if you had asked me how I was doing- I would have told you I was fine. But I was not. It had been 4.5 years and a major part of my life had all gone into making things work in the lab. Until one fine Friday evening when my brain shut down. I was unconscious. My body had finally spoke to me. For the next 2 weeks my brain controlled me. It was a wake up call in the most unfortunate way and I would still prefer a different end to my last months of PhD, but this is the truth.

A PhD is about learning from your mistakes: from both your experiments and life.

There have been several reports of people being more stressed during the pandemic and it is only human to go through that. It is just that a pandemic + PhD was not a winning combination for my body and mind. Knowing that has now made all the difference. I also realized during the end of my PhD that I could do pretty much the same amount of work I did earlier in my PhD but with much less stress and still gain the same or even better results. I would have not believed those words if they were uttered, I had to experience it.

The last few hours before my PhD defense examination- I took a small sudden nap. A lot of scientific text was flowing through my mind with bursts of realizations of how this journey had shaped me as a person. I did not know what I was feeling until I walked into the examination room. I presented my work, I defended my thesis and I spoke more science. But when I stepped out of the room- well you know, when a pressure cooker whistles?. After almost 5 years...

When a pressure cooker whistles... (Pictures by: Doroteja)

And there I was, graduating with a non-scientific PhD of unraveling the mysteries of oneself. But if someone asks what field do you have a PhD in... I will just say... well, Virology.

Cheers,

Swetha Ananth, PhD