Blog
Everything is data; Data is everything!
Sanchit Singhania, THSTI
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“Data is your life!”. That’s what my boss (supervisor) said when I first met him. He was not wrong, ofcourse. But that’s not all a proteomics researcher (or any researcher for that matter) does. It’s not all lab coats, microscopes, and reading dense scientific papers (well, okay, there's a lot of that). But there’s also a lot of excitement and surprises!
First thing in the morning, you walk into the lab, caffeine in hand (I’m addicted), ready to tackle the mountain of experiments awaiting you. The day starts with a quick check on the mass spectrometer, the lab's high-tech superhero. It's a complex machine that can analyse proteins with the precision of a detective solving a mystery. You get a rush of excitement as it hums to life. But, of course, before it can start solving mysteries, it needs a carefully prepared sample. A few pipette-filled moments later, you're ready to feed it your latest biological sample, perhaps from a tissue sample or blood plasma, and watch the magic unfold. By the time the analysis finishes, I would drink more coffee while pondering over the newly-published article I read just that morning.
As soon as the analysis finishes, I find myself geeking out over the data, tracking protein patterns or—surprise—discovering new proteins that I didn’t expect to be there (Maybe there was a problem during sample prep?). Sometimes it’s like finding hidden treasure inside a sea of numbers and other times (more often this) it is sheer disappointment and frustration pondering why things don’t go as planned (and a lot of cursing and swearing. Did the peptide go rogue again? Or is it just a calibration error? But I believe that is all part of the fun!
By the time I finish with my lunch, my supervisor calls me in his office and asks me about the results. Now, as a second-year Ph.D. student, I have learned a few tricks on how to talk without having any meaningful data to back up my claims. So I spin a story with cogs in my brain turning at an enormous speed. I immerse myself into this concoction I’m brewing, like I’m the sous-chef at an expensive fine-dining restaurant explaining the head chef (my supervisor in this case) about a new dish idea I just came with last night. I start with a bang, make it a suspense thriller, and finish with a high, thinking I have successfully bamboozled my supervisor into believing I had any sort of credible data to show. But as always, my supervisor (being the veteran he is), sees right through this charade of mine and rips me to shreds with some clever backhanded remarks. Dejected, I walk out with no motivation left. And, with that, it’s time for another coffee break.
I walk into the institute canteen and see that my friends are already there. I buy a coffee (extra dark this time) and sit down with them, trying to lighten up my mood a bit. You ask your colleagues how their day has been and it’s all doom and gloom. Every Ph.D. student has the same story. But surprisingly, instead of losing even more faith, you take some solace and comfort in the fact that it’s not just you. By then, another of your friend enters the conversation and tells you about how they got the exact results they were hoping for after 6 months of excruciating pain and agony (yes, it is sometimes like that). And you find hope! The budding scientist in you awakes and you pick up your stuff, had back to your lab and start working, generating (guess what?), more data!