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It was Monday. It was just like any other lab day.
However, today I was responsible for labeling and taking care of
my cancer cells. While walking to the tissue culture room I contemplated
the humor in cancer cell maintenance. How do these little buggers
manage to grow like crazy inside organisms but grow not-so-crazy
in plastic containers? Then I realized that the cells were far from
home. Think about it. When at home, you are more complacent, so
you eat more and tend to grow faster. However, if you are shipped
off somewhere distant, then you are more likely to refuse forced
feedings and somehow stunt your growth by mere will power.
I reached the culture lab after a laborious trip through
the maze consisting of one hallway. I got my stuff ready. I gave
my cells a bath with PBS twice. Next I pipeted in some EDTA. During
all this time and this time only, I made sure that my technique
was crisp and clean to prevent contamination. Once again my mind
managed to wander off. If I were a cell, then how would I like being
treated with EDTA. Then I knew because I was in the T150 flask.
My arms were desperately latching on the walls of the flask as evil
EDTA came by to rip away the precious calcium that I needed badly
to sustain my grip. I lost the battle and was soon floating around
with other cells like me.
It suddenly became hot. It felt like 37 degrees Celsius
for about 10 minutes until the temperature suddenly drop. The flask
was moving. A giant pipette entered the flask. In and out of the
pipette I went. I was finally put down in a tube which soon was
subjected to a force many times gravity. It was like a roller coaster
– minus the fun. The spinning came off and on with intermittent
cold washings with PBS + Ca + Mg. Fun couldn’t describe the
situation. At least EDTA left me alone. EDTA seemed a bit full….probably
from the influx of calcium. I knew what was next on the agenda because
I’ve done it many times. Biotinylation was next on the protocol.
I had to find a way out of the flask before I was painfully labeled
with some biotin. I tried moving but my amoeboid motions covered
little ground. It was too late. Biotin was coming in fast. I closed
my eyes and clenched my teeth.
Ouch.
Snapping out of my dream-like trance, I realized my
pipet had touched everything in the hood at least twice. Crap. I
successfully added the biotin to my clump of cells but in the process
contaminated probably all the cultures in the hood. I have to find
a way to quit zoning out. Maybe I’ll get one of the post-docs
to take care of my cells or maybe I’ll turn the gas flame
lower next time.
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