Probably the question I get asked most frequently these days is, “So, are you a student?” Only briefly resenting the fact that I look like I’m 16 and should probably still be in college, I quickly gather myself, repeat “serenity now, serenity now, serenity now…,” and reply calmly, “Yeah actually I’m working up at OHSU (Oregon Health and Science University) in a research lab. We study how your body manages iron.” Further than that, I never really know what to say. Maybe this story will paint a better picture...
It’s too uninteresting to explain in detail, but my job in a nutshell consists of growing up some liver cells, treating with certain conditions like high or low iron, then harvesting them to measure their response to such conditions. The final step involves developing a piece of film that reveals my results for a usual week-long experiment.
So about a month ago, I was going through a cold streak in lab. Cells I was trying to grow would die for no obvious reason. Simple experiments I handled without thinking twice as an undergrad turned into massive uphill battles. I kept getting flustered, which made me more nervous, and I messed up over and over. My confidence looked something like Ted from the cult classic sitcom, Scrubs. In other words, it was shot.
One of those depressing days, with the grace of God I had painstakingly reached the final step of developing a piece of film with my data on it. I waited in the darkroom with the red light on, allowing the chemiluminscent marker to burn its mark into the Kodak blue x-ray film. Reluctant but feeling confident, I stuck my piece of film into the developer. Waiting for the moment of truth. Was this the day my cold streak would finally break? Would I be a genius again? Or would my last six days be useless, again?
As I waited, the developer started making ungodly screeching sounds. My piece of film was stuck in the goddamn developer. I momentarily considered hiring a therapist.
I quickly collected myself. Realizing I had no idea what to do, I went over to one of our grad students and asked her to save me. We went and got one of the professors, Jack, who was experienced at fixing outdated lab machinery. He was the kind of guy who has a huge smile on his face and asks questions like, “So I’m sure you did everything absolutely right, but were you sure to make the obvious decision to put the film in vertically?”
Together, we struggled with it for a while, trying all the obvious solutions, replacing the rollers, tightening the screws, nothing worked. With time, we were able to put together a patchwork solution.
He stepped out, and I was left in the dark again, to test the developer. Somehow, it felt symbolic to be standing in the dark. Having no idea what was going on. Being lost.
Realizing I was taking myself too seriously, and that I was just developing some film, I stuck the film in the developer and stood there, quietly but audibly humming Maroon 5 to myself.
The film came out. The results didn’t look great, but the developer worked. I stepped out of the dark room and saw Jack, who looked engaged with one of his students. I waited a second to make eye contact with him, and threw up an awkward thumbs up along with a forced-looking smile, signaling success. He raised a fist and exclaimed, “We persevere,” and went right back to work...
Sometimes, what’s on that piece of blue film isn’t what you want. But maybe that’s not what counts. Maybe there will always be mountains beyond mountains. Maybe it’s about accepting those mountains as an inevitable part of a beautiful life. Maybe, it’s just about persevering.
Maybe, even when there’s no hoop, you just have to keep throwing that basketball up because you never know what can happen when you keep fighting.
from ken
Are you trying to change your life? I'd love to hear about it! ken.e.noguchi@gmail.com
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