2011 Challenge: May Update
The end of May (err, middle of June) marks the fifth update on the the #Reverb10 prompt for my blog-along with MathNerd314 and SunflowerAKB.
Here is the prompt for those who may have missed the first post:
What are 11 things your life doesn't need in 2011?
How will you go about eliminating them?
How will getting rid of these 11 things change your life?
My list of 11 things.
************************************
Obviously, my May update is a little late. After The Freezer Ordeal began, MathNerd reminded me that I should not let my May Update be any cause for more stress, and that I should absolutely feel no guilt for skipping a month. I didn't want to skip it though. Writing my monthly update is part of working on my list. When I began this entry, I was bound and determined to not bring The Freezer Ordeal up at all, as I thought focusing on it would unfairly define the entire month. The more I considered the situation, though, I realized that the way I behaved spoke directly to my progress with regard to many of the items on my list. Ignoring that event would be a disservice to both The Month and The List. Even though the ordeal did not present itself until the last day of May, I would not have been able to react in the manner I did without some cumulative progress.
I discovered the situation when I opened the freezer, felt no rush of cold air and saw water droplets, rather than frost inside the door. I rallied the lab (who responded adriably) to quickly assess the situation, making lists of personal items that would need to be revived, as well as common items. We made lists of the types of reagents we would need to preserve the most important items; I assigned each item to a lab member as equitably as possible, and as closely tied to personal work as possible. We opened the freezer only once (in case things were still cooler than room temperature; they were not) and quickly got everything growing again. We put everything into an incubator and prayed. I did not freak out outwardly at all, and far less inwardly than I expected. I knew ChemGuy was panicked, and someone had to be strong and focused. I know from prior experience with personal challenge and tragedy that I tend to respond in this way, so one could argue that my response to The Freezer Ordeal would not indicate progress, but I'm not confident based on my past emotional responses to more minor lab situations and setbacks that I would've reacted as well if I had been the person I was 12 months ago when this happened. I knew I couldn't worry too much, as the situation was completely out of my hands. Crying, not sleeping, or over-analyzing the situation wouldn't make the cells grow (but they would give me a headache). We would have to wait until the next morning. I did not "what if" myself into freaking out about the worst case scenario. I did not get a debilitating headache. I tried to repeatedly tell myself that everything was going to be fine, even if I wasn't sure how confident I was in that statement. ChemGuy knew that I was being strong so he didn't have to be.
Wednesday morning I opened the incubator with extreme curiosity and extreme hesitation. We quickly ascertained that cells were growing on most of the plates, suggesting most everything was going to be OK. At this point, ChemGuy calmed down, so it became my turn to process the situation. I didn't freak out, but I did need to leave the lab to take a walk and get a chai. The List reminds me to keep my emotional responses in proportion with the situation at hand, not eliminate them completely. I needed to some time process what did happen and what could've happened. This was BAD, and I needed "a moment". Before heading into lab on Wednesday morning, I vowed to go to yoga that night, no matter what I had found in the incubator that morning. After assessing the situation, I continued formulating plans for restoring our frozen supplies in another freezer, documenting each step, and checking everything along the way to ensure there are no surprises when we go to use certain cells or bits of DNA again. By the end of last week we had restored enough of the cellular infrastructure that I was able to do something that moved my research forward again. Losing fewer than 10 days as the initial response to The Freezer Ordeal was less than I anticipated. All signs suggest that things are what they should be; I am optimistic that final characterizations will show that they are.
This is not to say that #1, #6 and #7 on my list are over and done, but I find that when I do worry about things I have no control over, I let go more quickly than I used to. ChemGuy can calm me down by talking through the situation more than he has been able to in the past. My headaches are decreasing in number and severity, though they still do show up. My list is a process that will last far longer than 2011.
Oh -- I'm still not eating shelled peas. Keep up the good work, ChemGal!
Here is the prompt for those who may have missed the first post:
What are 11 things your life doesn't need in 2011?
How will you go about eliminating them?
How will getting rid of these 11 things change your life?
My list of 11 things.
************************************
Obviously, my May update is a little late. After The Freezer Ordeal began, MathNerd reminded me that I should not let my May Update be any cause for more stress, and that I should absolutely feel no guilt for skipping a month. I didn't want to skip it though. Writing my monthly update is part of working on my list. When I began this entry, I was bound and determined to not bring The Freezer Ordeal up at all, as I thought focusing on it would unfairly define the entire month. The more I considered the situation, though, I realized that the way I behaved spoke directly to my progress with regard to many of the items on my list. Ignoring that event would be a disservice to both The Month and The List. Even though the ordeal did not present itself until the last day of May, I would not have been able to react in the manner I did without some cumulative progress.
I discovered the situation when I opened the freezer, felt no rush of cold air and saw water droplets, rather than frost inside the door. I rallied the lab (who responded adriably) to quickly assess the situation, making lists of personal items that would need to be revived, as well as common items. We made lists of the types of reagents we would need to preserve the most important items; I assigned each item to a lab member as equitably as possible, and as closely tied to personal work as possible. We opened the freezer only once (in case things were still cooler than room temperature; they were not) and quickly got everything growing again. We put everything into an incubator and prayed. I did not freak out outwardly at all, and far less inwardly than I expected. I knew ChemGuy was panicked, and someone had to be strong and focused. I know from prior experience with personal challenge and tragedy that I tend to respond in this way, so one could argue that my response to The Freezer Ordeal would not indicate progress, but I'm not confident based on my past emotional responses to more minor lab situations and setbacks that I would've reacted as well if I had been the person I was 12 months ago when this happened. I knew I couldn't worry too much, as the situation was completely out of my hands. Crying, not sleeping, or over-analyzing the situation wouldn't make the cells grow (but they would give me a headache). We would have to wait until the next morning. I did not "what if" myself into freaking out about the worst case scenario. I did not get a debilitating headache. I tried to repeatedly tell myself that everything was going to be fine, even if I wasn't sure how confident I was in that statement. ChemGuy knew that I was being strong so he didn't have to be.
Wednesday morning I opened the incubator with extreme curiosity and extreme hesitation. We quickly ascertained that cells were growing on most of the plates, suggesting most everything was going to be OK. At this point, ChemGuy calmed down, so it became my turn to process the situation. I didn't freak out, but I did need to leave the lab to take a walk and get a chai. The List reminds me to keep my emotional responses in proportion with the situation at hand, not eliminate them completely. I needed to some time process what did happen and what could've happened. This was BAD, and I needed "a moment". Before heading into lab on Wednesday morning, I vowed to go to yoga that night, no matter what I had found in the incubator that morning. After assessing the situation, I continued formulating plans for restoring our frozen supplies in another freezer, documenting each step, and checking everything along the way to ensure there are no surprises when we go to use certain cells or bits of DNA again. By the end of last week we had restored enough of the cellular infrastructure that I was able to do something that moved my research forward again. Losing fewer than 10 days as the initial response to The Freezer Ordeal was less than I anticipated. All signs suggest that things are what they should be; I am optimistic that final characterizations will show that they are.
This is not to say that #1, #6 and #7 on my list are over and done, but I find that when I do worry about things I have no control over, I let go more quickly than I used to. ChemGuy can calm me down by talking through the situation more than he has been able to in the past. My headaches are decreasing in number and severity, though they still do show up. My list is a process that will last far longer than 2011.
Oh -- I'm still not eating shelled peas. Keep up the good work, ChemGal!