The Similarities Between Me and E. coli

The lab instructor claps to get our attention. “If you’ve read your lab manuals, you know that today we’re performing transformations.”

***

According to biologists, transformation is the act of introducing foreign DNA into bacteria.

I am a biologist.

At least until I get into med school.

***

Step 1 in a transformation is to retrieve the competent bacterial cells from the -80^oC freezer and thaw them on ice. “Competent” here means that our E. coli cells have been treated with calcium chloride to make them pliant and more likely to uptake foreign DNA.

***

According to college essay consultants, the experience of immigrant children is a cliché.

I am a cliché.

Because I am one of many children lucky enough to have an extraordinary father who braved an ocean, a language, and a society. Whereas I am too cowardly to even go against the wishes of my father. And I am too guilty for contemplating such an act in the first place.

You do not repay sacrifice with demands for more.

***

Step 2 in a transformation is to add one microliter of the DNA containing your gene of interest to the tube of thawed E. coli cells. Step 3 is to incubate the tube of cells and DNA on ice for thirty minutes.

***

According to everyone, my cousin has always been the smart one in the family.

I wholeheartedly agree.

“Your cousin already knew imaginary numbers by 5^th grade. You can’t even deal with real numbers!”

“And how is your child doing? Mine just won the debate competition at state level, and I’m so proud.”

“Your cousin was president of three school clubs and had a 4.0 GPA!”

“You should try a little harder, hmm? Feel free to ask my child for advice.”

“Your cousin was accepted to Harvard Med School! You haven’t even finished your college applications!”

“Your father said you’re attending a state school, congratulations! At least the tuition will be cheaper – but of course, my child won a full ride to MIT.”

It is good that I have an older cousin and not a younger one. Otherwise, these comparisons would be even more embarrassing. Both for me and for my father.

Sometimes, it is hard not to feel resentful.

***

Step 4 in a transformation is to heat shock the cells in a 42^oC water bath for 30 seconds. The heat shock makes the bacterial membrane more permeable, allowing the bacteria to take up the foreign DNA. This step is time-sensitive. Too much heat shock, and your cells will die.

***

According to my father, being a doctor yourself is the only way to avoid being duped by doctors, which is why I must be a doctor.

I am not a doctor.

Yet.

But I have sat in enough doctors’ offices to know that what he says is true. To know that some doctors are condescending, most are stressed, and all are just plain busy. To know that immigrant patients are already at a disadvantage because of the linguistic and cultural barriers. To know that, when you walk out of the office at the end of the visit, you often never fully understand what’s going on.

My father never walks out of the O.R.

***

Step 5 in a transformation is to incubate the cells on ice for 2 minutes. This allows the cells to recover from the heat shock.

***

According to the pre-medical advising office’s incoming freshmen presentation, shadowing is an important part of an application to med school.

I take meticulous notes.

After many Google searches and cold emails and almost taking the wrong bus (my father was able to board a plane for the first time alone), I show up at the local hospital to shadow a surgeon.

I nearly don’t go in. (Did my father hesitate coming off the plane?)

But I do.

Only, as I follow the surgeon on his rounds, against my will I unearth a feeling I’ve long suspected myself of having.

I hate this.

Because in every patient’s face I see an opportunity for disaster. I see questions that I cannot answer, that the doctor cannot answer (though he must give a verbal reply), that no one can answer, because we are not God, we are not Destiny, we are not the Fates who so callously cut our puppet strings. I see failure haunting every examination room, and it haunts me.

Dad, I don't think I can do this.

***

Step 6 in a transformation is to add 400 microliters of SOC medium to the cells. Step 7 is to incubate the cells at 37^oC for 30 minutes while shaking at 225-250 rpm. This allows the bacterial culture to grow and produce antibiotic resistance proteins.

***

According to my roommate, the children’s hospital is seeking volunteers, and wouldn’t it be great and convenient if we could go together?

I fill out the form online.

Volunteering is an important part of an application to med school, after all.

And in the children’s hospital, I find more reasons to be guilty. I am healthy. I can walk. The only deadly thing in my future is the all-nighter I’m planning to pull for my exam. I am not them, and yet I am still complaining.

I would walk away immediately from this emotional downpour if it were not for one thing.

They have no expectations.

So I stay.

And I keep staying.

***

Step 8 in a transformation is to spread the mixture of cells on LB agar plates with the appropriate antibiotic and then incubate the plates at 37^oC overnight. If your transformation has been successful, you will see colonies on your plates the next day.

***

The lab instructor claps again at the end of class. “Once you’ve plated your transformations, place them in the incubator behind me, and then clean up your benches before you go. I’ll email you guys the pictures of the plates tomorrow, and lab reports are due next week!”

I turn in my labeled plate and pack up to leave.

In my backpack, I carry my father’s expired passport and a Kaplan’s set of MCAT prep books that I bought from my cousin. I carry my father’s passport because it is one of the few photographs of him that I have. The MCAT prep books – well, they’re self-explanatory.

I hope to go into pediatrics.

***

According to biologists, transformation is the act of introducing foreign DNA into bacteria.

Dad was a biologist.

So I was always meant to transform.