(Inspired by a post I just read on Richard Grant’s blog).
Actual conversation in a Glasgow pub during my PhD days:
Me: How’s it going?
Friend: Bad.
Me: How come?
Friend: Another bloody yeast infection.
Me: Another one?! What’s going on?
Friend: Don’t ask me, I wear gloves all the time and it just keeps on happening.
Guy at next table: Snorrrrt cough cough
It suddenly dawns on us that most people don’t think of cell culture problems when they hear the words yeast infection…
Occupational hazard I suppose. Any other good ones out there?
Oh my… this one just made me giggle. Too funny!
That’s hilarious. Really. I have had similar experiences talking about herpes. And mice. And giving mice herpes. Totally not appropriate bar conversation.
Yes, giving mice herpes is another conversation to keep inside the workplace… actually, in the UK anything at all to do with animals would definitely be a no-no. That’ll be the subject of a future post I think!
I’m pleased that my misfortune was good for a few giggles.
;)
Completely unrelated, except that all the people involved are, or were scientists. All except one, possibly.
I was in a restaurant
Yesterday, a colleague and I were being shown around an IVF unit. Obviously we were not allowed into the ‘egg collection’ room, but our guide indicated its access, which was visible through a recessed window.
“Pop your head in there”, he said!!!
That’s just wrong, Lee. Wrong, and really funny!
Richard, I’ve been there and I sympathise… did you get it sorted out? (I’m really glad I don’t work with cells any more, I never really had the magical knack that some people do).
Lee, did you keep a straight face?
Cath, yes; I thawed the cells and did the experiment and still caught the flight to New Zealand. Now my RT-PCRs aren’t working of course.
Any jobs going at NPG?
Cath – hardly; but my ‘colleague’ (read ’boss’) laughed more than I… and he’s supposed to be the sensible one.
And if there is a magical knack possessed by some who culture cells, then I should of jacked it in years ago (Richard, I empathise totally); my forte is killing them (when not sitting in a corner, twitching, and mumbling ’Mummy’).
RT-PCR can be a bugger. You are making me so happy I’m not in a lab right now ;)
Lee, as long as your boss behaves worse than you, you’re doing fine!
As for killing cells, I once moaned to my PhD supervisor that all my cells were dying and could he please switch me to an apoptosis project? He reminded me of the need to keep your control cells alive…
I studied physiology as an undergraduate, and when we got together at dinner in college and talked about our day in the lab, we regularly inadvertently caused disgust among our neighbouring historians etc. The trouble is, when you are talking about work it is just “work” in a sort of bubble that is insulated from the “real life” neurons – one simply doesn’t appreciate that rat guts and rabbit blood isn’t everyone’s idea of polite dinner table conversation.
A microbiologist girlfriend did a spell in a teaching hospital and found a group of nurses giggling around a set of instructions that read to the effect that nothing, but nothing, should ever be placed in the human vagina unless it had been first autoclaved to 150 degrees centigrade.
Ooooh, Henry, just the thought burns!
Oof!
Doctors and nurses have good stories, but you know whose are the best? Vets. I know some great vet stories, but unfortunately some animals were hurt in the making of these anecdotes and they’re not really fit for public consumption.
The one exception is the tale of the drunk medical student who fell and split his head open and didn’t want to go to hospital. He couldn’t persuade any of his medic colleagues to stitch him up, so he approached some vet students. They apparently did a great job, but used veterinary sutures that dissolve into the skin, leaving a lovely blue tattoo to mark the site of the surgery for future reference. The hungover medical student didn’t find out in time to prevent the formation of a Frankenstein’s monster-style tattoo on his face…