Settling in satisfactorily

To assuage the guilt of such a long absence, here are a bunch of pictures from life in Nottingham!

Sian and Kris were our first dinner guests! Dave and I had been watching lots of Treme on HBO, so we ended up spending all day cooking gumbo, buttermilk biscuits and cornbread muffins (oh, yes, yum).

My bit of the UK had a pretty decent 95% solar eclipse, and I got in on the action (here's half way through, via a pin hole camera). Some had eclipse glasses, some medics brought out x-ray film, and physicists had lots of fun kit to view the event with. I was lucky and tried a bunch. Mainly, it was super cool to see just how many hundreds of people spilled outside to "watch"

Start with an eclipse, end with a sunset...

My first musical gig in Nottingham, playing 3rd oboe in Stravinsky's Symphony of Psalms: a damn good piece for orchestra and choir that I had done while in Cardiff. The music was satisfying and I hopefully made a few contacts for future gigs. It won't be as easy to find musical opportunities in Nottingham as it was in Cardiff, but I'm still optimistic.

I traveled southwest to Bristol to give a lecture; the train station featured Holland-ic levels of bicycles and, um, a steam engine train? This was my first guest lecture at this level, as there aren't many obvious teaching opportunities for me. I stressed, but it went very well: I had fantastic social media analogies to explain brain network structure that seemed to work well 

Seeing as I was most of the way there,  I headed back to Cardiff after the Bristol course, where spring was waiting to greet me.

I got to see some lovely familiar faces in Cardiff; here's the end of the night out... thanks especially to Kevin, my ex-boss and continuing friend, who hosted me :)

Nottingham has lovely people too! Here is Sian, demonstrating her epic unicycle skills just out of frame.

And Ben with his crazy bouncy stilt legs. I *did give them a try, although I needed a lot of ground support...

And Matt, going a little crazy towards the end of his PhD, with unintentional coordination between copies of his thesis and his socks.

So yes, lots of fun things bubbling along in the background! In science news, I had a paper accepted (finally! we first submitted in July 2014!) and it's causing a bit of a stir. It was picked up by perhaps the biggest Neuroscience blogger in the UK, who writes for Discover Magazine. I was initially freaking out, because he got something wrong and wrote something misleading, and the take-home message was already getting misinterpreted across social media. But I used twitter, talked to the blogger, made corrections, and hopefully things are more accurately represented now. I'm even starting to enjoy the little bit of buzz that the paper has garnered! Totally new territory, reinforcing my science-love for the twitter (@BrightMG, anyone?).

Here's the blog post:
http://blogs.discovermagazine.com/neuroskeptic/2015/04/18/is-fmri-noise-really-noise/

It's also an open access paper, if anyone wants to chance a reading!
http://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S1053811915002669

So my job is kinda awesome

It is. I'm really excited. Really excited. I look forward to work. It's awesome. It's... weird.

Although not entirely representative weather, it IS a bit less damp here in the midlands! This is the footbridge from the University campus across a busy road to the medical school and hospital.

The campus is quite "American" with lots of dormitories scattered about lovely green hills with a token lake near the union.

I started at the University of Nottingham as an independent research fellow (vaguely the equivalent of an assistant professor in the US) and it was a frustratingly slow start. I knew it would be a bit awkward, with a job technically in one department (Medicine, inside the hospital) but practically in another (MRI centre, in Physics, in the University), but it was an HR farce; no one could tell me who my line manager was so no paperwork could be signed to get me on the payroll or equip me with an IT account. I'm still not in possession of a hospital badge, so at 4pm I get trapped inside of my office hallway, but things are improving.

I have offices (two of them), and their locations are relatively prestigious (although the decor is sometimes painful). That might sound trivial or petty, but it does give me a boost of professional confidence when the majority of new people I meet assume I'm a graduate student, regardless of how I dress. My fellowship comes with a little pot of cash, and my first foray into purchasing orders brought me my partner in crime, a lovely high-spec research desktop computer that runs shiny speedy Linux and goes by the name of Daphne.

Office in the hospital, complete with purple be-flowered walls and puke-colored checkerboard floors. I'm by the door, Chris by the window, so far no takers for a squished middle seat.

New office in the MRI centre with a "borrowed" Windows computer and a seat by a window and radiator. No roommate yet...

But what is most excellent is that I'm my own person. There has been an odd step change from semi-independent post-doc to quite emphatically independent research fellow. Sometimes that isn't a great thing: I don't have the one obvious person to seek advice from or run ideas past like I had in Cardiff. But, there is an entirely addictive feeling of freedom that comes with the post. I have a project idea? I'll learn some new stats, design the experiment, and apply for funding. I want to try a whole new scientific technique? I'll go email some professor in Psychology and figure out how to make it happen. I think I should collect this dataset instead of that dataset? OK, I'll do that. I really only have to convince myself that it's a good idea, although I'm learning perhaps that is harder than convincing less interested superiors. So I'm now submitting a project grant, making new collaborations with other professors, and introducing new data acquisition protocols to the MR centre. It's a blast.

Meet Daphne, the first thing I bought with my own independent research money. She's a stonkingly powerful workhorse, and a lady.

Report from a traveling scientist

Phew, I haven't spent much time in my own apartment lately. The great summer scientific conference season is upon me. I don't want to sound like I'm complaining; I mean, I am getting paid to be an international scientist of mystery. It certainly does NOT suck. However, in my impending middle agedness, I am sublimely happy to be back in my own bed this week. Also, this brief respite gives me a chance to fill you in and upload a bunch of photos from my travels. Enjoy!


First up: Annual Meeting of the International Society of Magnetic Resonance in Medicine (ISMRM) in Milan, Italy.

This is my big event for the year. Our world revolves around the ISMRM schedule: we cram to finish all of our new research to submit for the deadline in November, and then cram all of the actual analysis into early spring to get results to present at the big event. Get a poster accepted, and you can probably find money to attend the meeting. Get a talk, and you are a golden rock star for the year. This year I had one of each, and was feeling rather pleased with myself.

I enjoyed every ray of sunshine that Italy could offer.

Approximately 7.5k people attend, including scientists, clinicians, and representatives from industry (Siemens, GE, etc). The conference venue was massive and awkwardly laid out, and there were many parallel streams of talks and workshops so it constantly felt stressful and challenging to get to all the things I wanted to. Hard core physics development and the latest translational patient work are inevitably overlapping. Still, my work garnered a lot of interest (for example, I was scheduled to stand in front of my poster for one hour, and ended up there for almost 3 hours talking to interested parties).

A sample of the several thousand posters being presented

The conference is also a social whirlwind. Every night is an event, and I didn't buy dinner once. An opening reception got things going the first night. Then GE wined and dined select people, wooing us with a rather adorably corporate inspirational speech from the ex 'evangelist' of Apple. Tuesday was an event for Women in MRI held in the castle, where we nibbled on canapes, drank prosecco, and were all rather surprised to recognize how nice it can be when there are no blokes around. Wednesday was a celebration of 30 years in MRI, with the biggest names from the last 30 years of literature being announced (interestingly, following Tuesday's event, all awardees were male with male co-authors. sigh). Thursday was a closing ceremony with live music. What you are missing, however, is that after every one of these events we then Went Out to the pub. Nothing like surprising a local Milanese pub with 200+ scientists drinking into the wee hours of the morning on the sidewalk until the neighbors call police... These events are where the real networking happens, and I am enjoying feeling like part of a big community. Every year I know more people and more people know me. And every canape and every pint helps.

Scientists networking. (Before heading to the pub.)

Now, the best bit of ISMRM being in Milan is that my very bestest of best friends from MIT lives there, and I stayed with her for an extra two days after the conference finished up. We figured out that we hadn't seen eachother in 4-5 years. SHAMEFUL. I admit that I was a bit nervous about how the reunion would go: would we even like eachother any more? And it was a wonderful weekend. Absolutely lovely. We had dinner at her mom's apartment, then spent Saturday shopping in the local market and spending a whopping 60 euros on the most amazing meats, breads, cheeses and fresh produce. Next, we spent the rest of the weekend eating it all with gluttonous pleasure. Despite the weather, we stayed indoors on Sunday and watched period dramas like the good ole days, before heading to La Scala for a premier of Strauss' Elektra (a very neat night out, but a rather shouty opera). How could we let so many years go by? SHAMEFUL. Already working on our next visit.

For more photos, you can scroll through the album.

Next up: Annual Meeting of the Organization for Human Brain Mapping in Hamburg, Germany.

This conference has a lot of overlap with ISMRM, but definitely has a different culture. Replace all the clinicians and corporate reps with psychologists and cognitive neuroscientists... besides making it much less likely to observe anyone wearing a suit, it also makes the atmosphere more informal and friendly. The smaller scale (more like 2-3 thousand people) and having most of the day be 'single track' (as opposed to parallel sessions) fostered a feeling of community and collaboration.

I had minimal stress at this conference, as I was presenting the two projects I also presented at ISMRM. So instead, I met people. I introduced myself over email, met over coffee, jotted down contact info at posters... dozens of new connections were made and many tenuous acquaintances are now firmly established in the 'friends' column. It was all definitely good for my career, and it lit a bit of a fire under my ass to get things published as I sensed other people would be highly interested and potentially swoop in on these topics if I left it too long.

New friends from San Diego

 The German food was a bit heavy over the course of the week, and we all drank too much lager. Kevin ("boss"), Jess (a grad student) and I all woke up at the crack of dawn on Sunday morning before the conference to go to the famous Hamburg Fischmarkt on the waterfront... some people had been to bed, others hadn't, and at 8am as many people were having coffee as having a pint (we opted for the later, just to fully appreciate the experience :) We also visited the world's largest model train exhibit, which sounds nerdy, and is then beyond cool (although yes, definitely still nerdy).

8am on a workday. Not bad.

I dusted off my meager German, and the city grew on me over the week. The sunshine and scientific success didn't hurt, either.

For more photos, you can scroll through the album.

Sometimes I really love my job :)

How the fellowship interview played out

I have been encouraged to write down what I remember from my fellowship interview experience... the best, most helpful resources are first-hand accounts of interview questions and environments, and it would be good karma for me to help the next person in my shoes. So, I will sum up a bit of what happened last week before I forget (apologies for the long post).

Before the interview, I prepared. A lot. I knew that this would be my first proper, formal interview with a panel and a presentation and a grilling. For grad school I met with individual PIs in their lab offices. For my post doc, we chatted over a pint during a conference in Stockholm. But now I would need a suit. And a haircut. And concise answers.

My Cardiff lab was the obvious first support mechanism to lean on. I sent an email around to the heads of my lab and some other academics in the department that I knew, asking if they would be willing to hold a mock interview. Three were free, and we scheduled it for about 1.5 weeks before the real deal. This was probably a wise timeline, because I was forced to make my three powerpoint slides and get the rhythm of a 5-minute presentation settled well in advance, leaving time for subtle improvements. The three of them discussed matters while I waited in the hallway, I was invited into the CUBRIC seminar room, and the charade began. We all kept a straight face and serious attitude until Derek asked a rather ridiculous question along the lines of 'but isn't brain imaging like painting with fog?' (which he really was asked in a recent high level interview!) In retrospect, I can say that this mock interview was quite similar to the real thing (although with intentionally pointed and aggressive questions), and I would thoroughly recommend that everyone go through the process.

I also had extensive practice sessions with Dave: sitting in an Oxford cafe or walking along the canal, I would go through my talk or answer 'stock' interview questions about 5-year plans or teaching abilities. Dave's ear is acute and we could spend minutes working on the wording of a single sentence in my response. The particulars of the language were key in setting the tone of my answers. It was exhausting, but I started to state things in the positive, rather than beginning with a weak or negative point. I started to have more assertive, confident wording. I know that I can walk in a room confidently, and have always been able to cope well with public speaking and being on a stage, but I realize now that I lose this confidence when discussing my science. It might be how we are trained: all science has limitations and could be proven all wrong with the next experiment, so it is natural to downplay our ideas. But for an interview, I needed to get over my unease at salesmanship and convince my audience that I am competent and capable of doing what I propose to do (which, by the way, is scientifically brilliant).

I printed out practice interview questions from the internet. I wrote down phrases that I wanted to remember. I practiced my talk until it was 4 minutes and 20 seconds, reliably. And then I got a train up to Nottingham a day before the interview for some final contact with the scientists I was collaborating with there. These contacts could provide me with the missing link: what specific words and concepts would best fit with the politics of the University of Nottingham? And finally, I had a nice chat with a woman who successfully got this fellowship two years ago, and who could tell me the details about what to expect in the interview.

Of course, it was nothing like she predicted for me! I got a taxi from my hotel to the special HR campus, and waited about an hour in the Costa Coffee for my slot to begin. My passport and visa were photocopied, I checked my hair and used the bathroom, and walked through the door to find only five interviewers plus one administrator taking notes. The pro-VC for research headed the session, sitting centrally. I was introduced to everyone else, but promptly forgot all their names (whoops! nerves!). I believe that one woman was a theoretical chemist, while two men and the last woman were medically trained. I presented (4 minutes and 55 seconds, the pro-VC said in a pleased manner, to which I responded with a little self-congratulatory fist bump). Then I sat down facing the panel for the grilling.

First up, the medics. How does inflammation enter into my study of fatigue and exercise? Well, this was a science question I had not prepared for, and I am not an expert in MS, but I think I handled it well. Could I explain more about what aspects of the imaging protocol would be new? What would these results actually do to impact treatment? I was able to answer these questions, bringing in some of the talking points I knew I wanted to get across. I generally received nods. I felt calm. I think science questions are much, much more calming than the alternatives!

Then, the remaining two asked questions. The pro-VC wanted to know what drew me to this fellowship. This was a slight variant of the expected question of 'What will you do with this award' or 'Why should we give it to you.' This was followed up by the classic 'Where do you see yourself in 5 years' question that I had practiced. Shockingly, the chemist asked 'How many people would be in your ideal research group?' when I had teased Dave for asking me that exact question in our practice sessions. [ Thank you Dave. I didn't blink. And I had an answer. Hug. ] 

Towards the end, things got slightly more odd. The chemist asked me if, given that I mentioned a lot of physics in my proposal, I would feel comfortable supervising a supervisor in PHYSICS... when I replied that my undergrad degree was in physics, and although some refreshing would be necessary I would enjoy the opportunity to teach in this area, the panel exchanged very confused looks. I had the suspicion that none of them had read even the basic CV information on the first page of my application. Perhaps that worked to my advantage, and I had convinced them entirely of being a biomedical researcher with the pleasant surprise at the end that I could 'speak physics' as a bonus. Then, when I was given time at the end of the interview to ask my own questions, I asked about what existed at the university to support early career researchers, and what would be available to me as part of this fellowship program. Bizarrely, the pro-VC started talking about Penny Gowland at the MRI center who would probably be an excellent resource for discussing research. The same Penny Gowland that I have worked with in developing this proposal and who is named as a collaborator in the application. I tried to keep the confusion out of my eyes and was relieved when the two women, seated at the two ends of the table, jumped in with descriptions of mentoring schemes. 

In the end, it was over very quickly. I waited in the Costa coffee for another half hour before getting a bus back to the main campus. I must have been the third of three candidates in the morning, and the woman medic on the panel ended up on the same bus as me. She assured me her role in the decision was over, so we had a really nice chat about research possibilities surrounding my area of imaging expertise. On that positive note, I went back to the MR center, debriefed the relevant people there, sat in on a seminar, chatted with the visiting scientist, and then headed back into town. My new shoes were thoughtful enough to not give me a blister until the very last ten minutes of the day.

Special thanks to all the people who helped me prepare, especially Dave, who voluntarily walked the fine line between making me work hard and being lovely and supportive. Thanks also to Lara, who happened to be in Nottingham that week, and who spirited me away to a calming dinner near my hotel the night before the interview. She and Sian also took me out for post-interview food and drinks before my train back to Cardiff, and listened to me ramble as my pent-up energy was released.

Phew, so that was the interview. It was a very educational experience, and it would appear that I did well! More to come on future plans soon.

The next adventure in my life as a scientist [part 1/2]

On Wednesday of last week I took a train on one of the most lovely routes in Britain, slipping alongside the wide and wild River Severn up from the Welsh coast to Gloucester before meeting the crowds of Birmingham, proceeding haltingly through the factory towns of the midlands, and arriving promptly in Nottingham 3.5 hours later. In my duffel bag was a new suit and the appropriate footwear. My messenger bag was purchased specifically for this trip, to stand up to the suit. I had my powerpoint presentation ready on my laptop, on my tablet, in Dropbox, and on two USB memory sticks, but my 5-minute talk was ingrained into my speech, smile and hand gestures.  Lists of possible questions about my research and my career were jotted down on sheets of A4 tucked into a binder along with my passport and hotel reservation. I was nervous, but really the nerves and stress peaked over the previous weekend and I simply couldn't keep up that level anxiety... I had prepared as much as possible, and it would all be over soon.

And on Thursday, I had my (very first proper) interview for the Anne McLaren Fellowship. And on Friday I received an email that I had been awarded the fellowship. And today I am still smiling.


So what does this all mean? The Anne McLaren Fellowship is an award given by the University of Nottingham to create new independent positions for women in science. It will pay my salary and research costs for 3 years, and if I bring in more fellowship or grant money during that time it would turn into a real academic post (aka, some form of fledgling 'Professor')... which is really hard to come by, particularly in the UK and in my line of work.  I will probably end up having teaching obligations for the first time, which I am actually quite enthusiastic about. The University has campuses in China and Malaysia, and I might even have teaching to do over in Asia. I will be suddenly and completely independent, which is slightly terrifying. I will be suddenly and completely independent, which is exhilarating.

My proposed research involves understanding the pathology in the brain that causes patients with Multiple Sclerosis to experience extreme fatigue, which is usually their biggest symptom complaint. I will be using MRI to understand what this mechanism is, and then watch how these pathways are affected by an exercise program. Although I will be using the exceptional ultra-high-field MRI facilities in the physics department at the university, my post will technically be in the School of Medicine. I will sit, on a daily basis, in the hospital, and be a bridge between advanced imaging methods and useful clinical applications. The big picture idea for my new position is to use new MRI techniques to study lots of different patient groups, and study things like rehabilitation after a stroke or using exercise to stave off memory impairment. There are SO many possible things to study, and I am SO excited to start a new part of my career doing translational studies in patients.


As is typical in academia, I won't be starting this fellowship right away. The start date is roughly October 2014, although I am trying to push it into early 2015 for various reasons both personal and professional. I probably won't get much of a salary raise, but it is precisely the type of fellowship I needed and wanted in terms of career progression.  I'm more than a bit sad to leave Cardiff: the lab has truly amazing and lovely people, and a shiny new mega-imaging-centre will be built there in the next few years and I will miss out on that. I also have established my musical life here, playing with lots of groups and doing some professional free-lancing... this will be very hard to recreate in a new city. Nottingham is slightly further away from Oxford and from Dave, and we'll have to figure out how to make the new train connections and life schedules work.  I'm nervous about the politics of the Nottingham departments. I still am not 100% positive that I science research is THE job for me. But right now, I am focusing on the adventure, the opportunity, and the positive challenges that await me when I start this fellowship. And, really, I am still processing that I got it!


[oof, this post is getting long. sorry. I'll write a bit more about the interview and the people involved with all this in a second entry soon!]

Science Outreach with a steampunk slant

This August, an idea hatched by the public engagement committee here at CUBRIC finally took shape as we brought quirky neuroscience demonstrations to a new kind of venue: a four day music festival in the mountains. While this might sound massively bizarre, the Green Man Festival in the Brecon Beacons in Wales has started to get an interesting reputation for more than indie-pop. Each year, the area dubbed "Einstein's Garden" attracts exciting science stalls and performers: knit blood vessels, crawl through a model of the digestive tract, or make music using skin conductivity! And this year, I am pleased to say, our Laboratory of Neuroillusions was the star of the festival. 

Seven of us donned victoriana steampunk costumes and invited festival-goers to try the Phantomic Hand (make a rubber hand feel like your own), the Psycho-Kinetic Chambre (levitate a ping pong ball using brain waves), and the Optical Inversion Glasses (watch adaptation in action as you learn to adjust to wearing prism goggles... then take them off). As quasi-performers, we were given "Artists" wristbands, meaning that we could pitch our tents in the special "Artists" area. The biggest names performing were obviously not staying in dome tents and using porta-loos, but it was fun to be surrounded by the more "up-and-coming" musicians. Even better, there were much shorter queues for the SHOWERS. I had stocked up on baby wipes and dry-shampoo under the impression that showers would not be possible, but to my great relief and joy there were hot showers for me three times during the six day adventure.

Camping was fun, albeit very different camping from what I'm used to. Although we were among the first to pitch tents in the artists area, waking up the second morning we found tents placed nearly on top of our own as the field filled up. Fortunately, the exhausting days, copious nighttime drinking while staying up to watch bands, and good use of ear plugs meant that I slept soundly at night; in the mornings I would be regaled with tales of what our neighbors got up to (ranging from Chloe crying over a lost mobile phone, potential scary domestic abuse, and men wrestling less than 1 meter from my head). Following a civilized campsite breakfast of fresh coffee and scrambled eggs, we manned the stall from 10am to 8pm every day... which was absolutely K N A C K E R I N G. I don't think I've ever done anything more exhausting. Although we took rolling breaks, the seven of us felt a bit guilty if we left for more than an hour and so we made our lives more difficult than they needed to be. Still, as the biggest and most exciting stall, we were really proud of how word of our illusions was spreading through the festival. We probably saw upwards of 3000 people, ranging from little kids we helped make pipe-cleaner neurons to stoned band members who could barely see straight Before putting on the prism goggles... it is surreal to jump between those two audiences in the space of a deep breath, before launching into the appropriate spiel.

End result was a massive sense of accomplishment and success, my first pair of wellies, the decimation of my vocal cords, and my first exposure to a British music festival. Really happy to have been a part of it. And now I have a set of steampunk clothes in the back of closet... did I mention I did everything I described in a corset?

GreenMan2013

Mountains, Mormons, and Meetings (oh My)

Every spring I get to enjoy the main "perk" of being in academic research: the international conference meeting. Thus far, I've been reimbursed to travel to and enjoy Berlin, Toronto, Honolulu, Stockholm, Montreal, Melbourne and in 2013... Salt Lake City.  Yes, I admit it lacks a certain glamour that our typical destinations boast, but it is apparently over a million dollars less expensive for the society to host it there than in Europe, so fair enough.

The main benefit of Salt Lake City is that flights from LHR to SLC can be manipulated to pass through NYC, and thus I can nab a cheeky visit home within my travel budget. It was a short stay, but it was made rather wonderful by the simultaneous appearance of my globe-trotting brother, who was briefly returning to US from his assignment in Japan. Andy apparently stuffed every nook and cranny with small Japanese gifts for us, including a wide range of bizarre edible snacks (most pleasant surprise? chocolate bread bites. yum. most distressing item? too-realistic plastic shrimp.)

Loot from Japan!

During the trip, Andy and I escaped into the city for a day of sunny perfection: we meandered down the "High Line" and basked in a streetside cafe in the West Village before meeting up with my friend Cailin for drinks and my friend Becca for a posh manhattan mexican dinner. On our last full day together, we drove out east to a new art museum in the Hamptons. Although I admit that I was sceptical, the museum turned out to be more engaging than I anticipated: neat architecture (apparently it looks like a "potato barn" and is surrounded by manicured acres of "natural Long Island flora" and a nearby vineyard), interesting-enough art, and a fantastic cafe serving up curried carrot and peach soup. We stopped off at the beach afterwards, and I enjoyed suitably silly barefoot prancing about on the sand. It's so easy to forget these aspects of Long Island; it really is a glorious place to live if you take advantage of the beautiful spaces. Friday morning, we said our goodbyes and I was delivered to the local micro-airport of Long Island to began my trek to Utah.

First and foremost, Utah has mountains and sunshine (see above picture). As predicted, the 7-lane roads that dissect Salt Lake City into an enormous grid system were not particularly enjoyable to navigate as a pedestrian: everything is much further away than it appears on a map, particularly when rushing to make a certain poster session after lunch. My first impression of the city was rather negative, perhaps due to the shock of Mountain-state distances on my walkable British town sensibilities. It was also difficult to tell whether the city was "on the up" or declining, with abandoned lots pervading the city center. However, by the end of the week I was enjoying the glimpses of mountains at every intersection, the genuine friendliness of folks, the pervasiveness of book shops and the odd culinary gem.

The conference also provided a boost to my science mojo. Last year I struggled, for months, with a bit of science that just... didn't... work. It felt as if I was bashing my head against a wall, with nothing to show for it after months of labor. Add to that the stress of finding funding for next year and I had been a little anti-science or anti-research in the period leading up to the conference. I should have predicted it: being surrounded by the 6-thousand-odd people that really care about your area of work is very stimulating. The plenary sessions are full of big names talking about their early years (typically with photographic evidence that they once, as a grad student, had HAIR), reminding us that we all have awkward beginnings and just have to hang on. Seeing old lab connections, and meeting friendly interesting people through them, is always a joy. I was also able to gain a bit of perspective on how far I've come since my first ISMRM conference in 2007, and I enjoyed the "Session Moderator" ribbon on my name badge, the increasing number of attendees I recognize and interact with, and my growing confidence in my own scientific capabilities. Coming back to CUBRIC, I am bursting with ideas and have numerous scientists to contact. The mojo returns!

More pictures from my trip, including my walk through the LDS Temple complex, can be found in this Picasa Album

Overcoming the sleazy-heebie-jeebies of self-promotion

What does the word "networking" make you think of? It is a word that I have often mocked, deriding the suit-wearing business-card-wielding flattery-proffering plastic-smiled people who have attended a workshop on how to shake hands and enthusiastically slide into conversations with the influential denizens of meeting or conferences. It is so easy to dismiss all of that world as "sleazy." Surely the time spent working on your introduction line would be better spent on your science. Surely everyone else is creeped out by your blatant attempt to build more contacts. Good scientists shouldn't have to stoop to such tactics.

But, I must recant these opinions: recent events have shown me that networking and self-promotion can be easy, sleaze-free, and actually feel quite genuine.


Monday last week: I joined twitter. Twice. A personal account for silly comments with friends and a "work account" that is more streamlined for brainy tweets. Probably like all new users, I stalk my stats, checking up on any new followers several times each day. This is rather like watching paint dry, as I really haven't amassed that many recipients for my witty 140-character blips, but it's human nature. Anyways, almost immediately after joining, I was followed by an anonymous MRI-related person. Clicking through the profile links, I discover he has a blog. It is very well put together and the guy is clearly a respected member of the field. In his blog, he has a very long entry that reviews a recent paper, which happens to be on a topic quite similar to a recent publication of my own.

The brain starts to mull over my options. Do I add to the long list of comments? Do I stoop to the act of throwing my paper at the internet community?

Tuesday last week: I make my move. I spend over an hour crafting a two paragraph comment. I open with a complement-- great post, really interesting, i read that paper too, etc. I follow up with something a bit self-deprecating, echoing the blogger's confusion at a certain complex analysis method. Then I try for humor, acknowledging the fact I am about to blatantly hock my own research.

After the groundwork has been completed, I paste my citation and add a link to the pdf download. Not able to end the comment so abruptly, I add a few sentences describing how what I did fits in to the paper reviewed in the original post. No big claims, no exaggerations, just an honest take on the pros and cons of the science involved. After a LOT of editing and hesitation, I press submit.

Tuesday last week, one hour later:  Reply! And not only is the blogger nice, and happy to have my comment, he has actually already seen my paper and was considering using it for his next review! He asks a few questions, he's curious if I'll be presenting more of this research at the upcoming conference... in short, the whole thing was an immensely satisfying success!


I am still a bit off balance by this series of events. I think it has actually changed my perspective on science. People have told me that it takes a bit of time to "recover" from a PhD, in the sense that you really begin to be a professional ("adult") scientist instead of a nervous student version. Regardless, I'm on Twitter. I'm reading lots of interesting science in and out of my field, every day. I'm no longer quite so shy about talking to strangers in my field (online at least, we'll see how I do in person at the conference in April). I'm excited about being a scientist.

Oh, and you can follow me on twitter now: @BrightWrites for personal goodies (look to the right for the latest), and @BrightMG for my science side.

A new home on the web

Thinking I should have some "presence" on the web that is independent from Facebook, Linked In, Academia.edu and others of their ilk, I have spent the last few weeks tinkering with a new homepage. Like everything else in my world, it is managed by the beneficent Google. It may one day even show up in the Google search results when you look for me!

What prompted all this? Perhaps I am starting to get the sense that I am building a career, and this is a way to get my name out there. Along those lines, I've put up my CV, publications, and descriptions of my research meant for either the lay reader or for people in the fMRI world. To add a charming dose of humanity to the all-business picture being painted, I've kept a page for music.

So please, have a look. Extra please, give some feedback! Dave has already painstakingly brought me from my first to the current draft. There is a lot of room for improvement, and your comments are welcome!   http://sites.google.com/site/mollybright/home

Fellowship of the Wheelie Bin

Today I received an email from my department. An email that simply stated "please see the attached document," pointing to a pdf file. And that pdf file contained a letter only a few sentences long. Typically these signs do not point to success...  but in this case I nearly jumped up and down in the middle of Starbucks when I read my application was successful and I have been awarded a one-year fellowship to fund my own independent research at CUBRIC.

In truth, the fellowship doesn't affect the specifics of my daily scientific life very much. My boss and I already decided to extend my contract with him for one more year, but this fellowship means that he doesn't have to pay my salary, and this makes travel and other perks much easier to arrange. We will still be partners in crime (er, science). But what it does change is that now I am a Research Fellow instead of Associate, and I have shown I am capable of bringing in my own funding, and these facts will look very good on my CV when I look for my next job or next fellowship.

It also feels very nice to receive some love from the Wellcome Trust after not being successful with the big 4-year fellowship application I submitted to them earlier this year. I don't regret that earlier application, even though it ate up countless hours of productivity and sleep over months of my life. I learned a lot from that process, and it directly affected how I approached the little 1-year fellowship that I now managed to win. The successful proposal was sleek, tidy, and concise. I selected only one of three topics from the big app, then reduced that topic by half, and then simplified it. I made it obvious why the work was important, showed how other research would be directly impacted by my results, linked in other researchers who would contribute to the project to our mutual benefit... look at me, learning grantsmanship slowly but surely!

What's this wheelie bin, you ask? The work I have proposed involves the lower body negative pressure chamber that we are constructing. It has been slow going, mostly because Kevin and I have been focusing on other stuff and not able to literally hammer out a prototype. Our proof of principal setup involved an empty yellow wheelie bin (big trash can, for the US readers) hooked up to a standard household vacuum cleaner and sealed with a neoprene kayaking skirt. Hopefully we are on the road towards a more professional looking piece of equipment... it really doesn't look right next to a multi-million dollar brain scanner! The idea is that the "chamber" seals around your lower torso/legs and is hooked up to a vacuum pump. By changing the air pressure in the chamber, you can change your systemic blood pressure. I want to use this to measure the interaction between physiology and neural activity. Fingers crossed... I've got the money, the time, the independence (but also the support)... now all I need is some science!

Some more from Melbourne

My epic Australia/Malaysia/Conference/Holiday - part 3

Due to delays in my connectivity with the internets and having given my laptop (with my camera SD card reader) to my boss to bring back to the UK while I traipse around Malaysia... here is a much belated set of photos from Melbourne. Not pictured (yet) are koalas and kangaroos and penguins that I managed to see in the final days in Oz. You know, just hanging out, IN THE REAL WORLD. I'm not inclined to be very verbose with the figure captions, as I am currently knee deep in Malaysian shenanigans, but I am going to try to keep writing in semi-real-time so that I don't forget everything!

I thought I would provide some shots of the convention centre, which came with it's own tall ship, apparently. The building you see in this picture is the plenary hall and some of the meeting rooms, while the long low building in the background stretches for several city blocks and contained multiple trade show spaces. While we used one small hall for posters and exhibitor stalls, the others were used by fisheries and hatcheries people and a mass air-con convention. As always, fun to play the "guess what conference THAT guy is affiliated with" game on the escalators. (Although, perhaps not as fun as when the female body building convention shared the space with us in Canada...)

This year, I gave my first talk at the conference. I would estimate between 150-200 people attended, although the room was huge so that number barely made a dent in the expanse of empty orange seats. Pictured is the last talk of the evening, given by a new friend (who presented really thought-provoking stuff, I might add), to give you a sense of the scale of (half) the room. My good friend Manus, who gave the first talk, appears either exhausted or preoccupied in the foreground. My own talk went reasonably well. I am not thrilled with the amount of 'ehms' that slipped out in the first few minutes, but I think that people listened and understood: someone even asked a later speaker a question in the context of the results I presented :) So yes, talk was alright, but mainly it felt great to have one under my belt.

Despite worrying weather forecasts, we managed to have some decent autumn sun in Melbourne! This is a view from the pub next to the centre. Australian sun is impressive... when it emerges, you strip down to a tshirt, but when clouds return you have to get the winter coat back on. Powerful stuff... isn't the ozone hole somewhere over here?

Following recommendations (thanks Jaani) I managed to find multiple coffee shops I would deem "exceptional" in Melbourne. While very good coffee shops were everywhere (happiness!) the best of the best were in relatively obscure locations down alleys and in reclaimed warehouses. As shown below, a standard trend for Melbourne is the unfinished wall/ceiling aesthetic. And while the "flat white" may be the national coffee drink of choice, and I really did try to like it, I remain a double espresso girl at heart <3

Next up, a slightly random shot of "The Clocks" at Flinders St station, which are surprisingly helpful and efficient and informing late night commuters how much time they have to pick up water or a snack for the train home. Due to the incredible generosity of a friend's brother (a resident of the Melbourne suburbs) I was able to stay in town a few days post-conference without breaking the bank and with the benefit of good conversations over very nice wine.

And finally, a last shot of the Melbourne skyline from the Southbank area where my hotel was. I have many more pictures trapped on my camera, and I dutifully promise to post/caption them upon my return to normal civilization. But for now, I have picked up my trusty (and wonderful) travelling companion Dave in Singapore, and we have just embarked on our 9 day exploration of the Malaysian peninsula. Already an adventure!

A welcome to Melbourne and the conference begins

My epic Australia/Malaysia/Conference/Holiday - part 2


Following a surprisingly enjoyable layover in Singapore, I was herded back onto an A380 Singapore Air flight to Melbourne for another 7 hour flight. This was (whee!) my first time on a double decker plane, and I of course reserved an upstairs seat. Honestly, it wasn't much different from the normal planes, and I didn't even see it from the terminal to coo over how amazing it looks to have two storeys of windows, so perhaps a tad disappointing. Nonetheless, an uneventful flight seated next to one the of the chiefs of my Cardiff lab (yes, we planned it, and yes, there was gossip, and yes, we eventually shut up and let eachother pass out and sleep).


Arriving at Melbourne we faced a ridiculous queue for immigration, followed by a dog-sniffing of our suitcases. This might be the one country where the dogs aren't looking for drugs... they are looking for contraband fruit! Then, in what might be officially the best reception in a foreign country I've ever had, I was scooped up by a driver in a hired car who shepherded myself and Dan (friend from Oxford, from Tasmania) to the house of Dan's brother just outside the city. Sudden torrential rain meant we couldn't avail ourselves of the new hot tub he had just installed in his back yard, but a proper breakfast and shower and brushing of teeth left us renewed and much more capable of facing the challenging prospect of staying awake for another 14 hours or so, despite every cell in our bodies saying SLEEP.... SLEEP NOW.... IT IS ESSENTIAL THAT YOU SLEEP IMMEDIATELY... BEING AWAKE IS INCREDIBLY INAPPROPRIATE.

I was then deposited at my hotel once check in was available, and left to fend off jetlag alone (which is surprisingly challenging). After noticing that, around 4pm, I was literally falling asleep while standing and drinking coffee, I came up with a very simple plan: walk. Walk until you can't anymore. It was the one thing I could do without nodding off! I survived until 10pm before passing out, and so I think I successfully dealt with the worst of the jetlag and have been able to be awake and have meals at appropriate times since then. There is still a strong urge to nap around 3pm though.

The next morning, Ashley stumbled in after her own trans-Earth flying ordeal, and I encouraged a day of seeing sights to help her own acclimatization. 

Melbourne is set on a river, with a satisfying number of bridges for pedestrians, cars, and the ubiquitous trams. The weather might have been frustratingly Welsh-like, but the trees told of a different climate.

Lots of random acts of art dot the riversides. The tall building with the gold top is a casino next to my hotel (shorter and not visible) on the south bank. The Southbank area is roughly a mini-Vegas for the city; restaurants are pricey and there are even towers shooting alarming fireballs outside the casinos, but it's convenient to the convention centre and has access to morning espresso (all a girl needs!).

Ashley and I also stopped in an art museum (Ian Potter museum... thanks Jaani!) that featured contemporary aboriginal art (they only started painting on canvas in 2001, to put it in perspective). I was immediately attracted to the colors/patterns of the style, although the gift shop did not* have the same taste as I did when they chose what they offered as prints (alas, I even have a poster tube prepared for this type of thing!)

The geography, attitude, and tastes of the city I shall have to address in a less long-winded post. I am also being remiss in not mentioning the purpose of the funded trip to the other side of the globe: the conference. It is the annual meeting of the International Society for Magnetic Resonance in Medicine (ISMRM), where 5000 people get together for a weekend educational session and 5 days of talks, posters, venders, and general mayhem (erm, I mean, "collaboration").  It's fun--there is a lot of seeing old friends and some meeting of new ones. It's exhausting--conference fatigue already hovers, after only a day! It's rewarding--this year I have my first talk at this conference, and I am ever so slightly petrified. It's pretty damn awesome, actually. Perhaps I'll even mention the science in a future post :-p

The foyer of the centre, prior to invasion. There are two other conferences in the centre... air conditioning and fisheries and hatcheries. I think it's pretty easy to spot the MRI folks, although not quite as easy as when we shared a centre with a female bodybuilding convention.

Introducing Dr. Molly Bright, D.Phil.

I've been a student since the age of 5. While many things have changed, as naptime gave way to quantum physics, I have dutifully--and often enjoyably--attended classes and studied for exams for 22 years. I'm pleased to report that I have successfully reached the end of my formal education, and have finally received the title of "Dr." ... let's say that again... "Dr." Molly Bright. Yes, there is a very big, fairly dorky, and still strangely confused smile on my face when I get to say that. Maybe it will sink in, or maybe I will still giggle to myself every time I see or hear people address me like that.

So, here is how it went down:

Two weeks prior to my defense, I called my Oxford supervisor and asked him what I should be doing to prepare. He gave me the general run-down of the Oxford "viva," which comes from the latin "viva voce" or "lively discussion." Unlike an American PhD defense, I don't have a committee or a public presentation. In Oxford, I have one examiner from the University and one examiner from outside the University, and we sit in a closed room and they grill me for approximately 3 hours on my thesis. This format makes for a mysterious black-box process that is different for every student, and the more I asked my friends and colleagues about their own experiences with the mythical viva-beast, the more confused and uncertain I became. Some people were told immediately that they passed and proceeded to have a nice conversation about their research. Some people were brought to the point of tears. And me being me, I definitely worried.

Peter, my supervisor, made things a little more clear. A little. The first question would be something like, "Describe the main contributions of your work presented in this thesis in five minutes." or "What are you most proud of in this thesis? Least proud of?" and so forth. Fine, okay, that is something I can prepare for. This softball opening would be followed by approximately one hour of testing the breadth of my knowledge of the field and beyond. Hmmmm, now I started to sense the stirrings of panic. What exactly did he mean? Peter gave me a few example questions, probing the very periphery of my understanding of the field. While I know that a good exam figures out not just what the student knows, but also what their limits are, I really do NOT enjoy being tossed into the intellectual deep end under scrutiny. Once this hour was over, though, the rest of the viva would be talking about what research I did and my reasoning behind it... that part sounded like Christmas by comparison.

Cue ridiculous amounts of reading. Instead of downloading the most recent scientific manuscripts like many of my friends had suggested, I blitzed through the NIH library and scooped up textbooks, trying to reacquaint myself with a world of vocabulary and concepts that had faded into vague memories after months or years of disuse. MRI pulse sequence terminology, respiratory physiology, clinical stroke treatment, non-MRI imaging techniques, it was all added to the mix of busy neuron firing in my brain.

I arrived in Oxford about four days before my defense, hoping to use that time to calm my nerves and absorb the jetlag. I brought two suitcases and two carry-ons for a ten-day trip, using the free flight to transport my cast iron cookware to the UK in preparation for my move later in the year. My backpack contained two laptops (one with my thesis and figures, one with my scientific research) in anticipation of post-viva corrections, as well as a copy of my thesis and some of those textbooks I mentioned earlier.  Ooof.

Everything was okay at first. I was back with Dave and other friends, life was good. But the stress was there, mulling inside me. It wasn't fear or worry that threatened to overwhelm me, but just the sheer focus of years of stress, channeled into one week of my life, one day of my life, one afternoon... so I had the obligatory cry on Dave's shoulder over the weekend. He was all sorts of supportive, letting me practice the opening "arguments" of my viva as many times as I could muster the focus for, and made sure I ate and slept properly beforehand.

Then, on Monday the 21st of February, 2011, I donned the traditional Oxford dress for examinations called "sub fusc." Of course, I hadn't been able to find my nice black trousers or button up white shirt in the pre-flight packing, and spent Sunday afternoon shopping at Marks and Spencer for the appropriate clothes. I borrowed a mortar board hat, black ribbon tie, and a postgraduate gown from friends in Dave's flat, covered everything with a winter coat and an air of confidence, and took the bus up the hill to the hospital lab.

I bumped into my friend at the hospital, who saw me through the window and burst out of the emergency door to wish me good luck with a brilliant boost of energy, and then had lunch with my friend Dan before hiding in his office and talking about the teensy scientific ERROR I had just thought of in the last chapter of my thesis. At 2pm sharp I went into the seminar room, and there my two examiners sat in suits and/or gowns peering at copies of my thesis... "Can you give us a bit more time?"

After that false start, I was soon in the midst of my viva. The opening question was as expected, and Dave had me well prepared. The general knowledge section was almost entirely overlapping with what reading I had done over the last two weeks, which was, well, exceptionally fortuitous! We had a pile of scrap paper between the three of us, and when I would get a little stuck on an answer, one would draw out a suggestion or something to help me get on the right track. Then we proceeded to go systematically through the thesis.

When did I know it was going well? About halfway through chapter 2, the external examiner said he wanted me to add a reference to this original method something-or-another, which "could just be added to my minor corrections." WOOOOHOOOOO! (Although I kept a straight face, I think!) Once we got talking about my work it was comfortable, and even enjoyable. The external examiner had yellow post-it note comments sticking out of every edge of the thesis, and we covered them all. At one point, he said something like...

"Erm, about 3 lines up from the bottom, on page 136, yes, I'm not sure what this is about, but I wrote the word 'Excellent,' so, uh, well done."

To which I replied with a sheepish smile, "Can I have that one?"

So began a habit of passing me the good, random post-its.

The viva lasted four hours, with one break for the restroom and more water. It wasn't long in a bad way, but rather it just took that long. I found it really respectful for them to give me that much attention and to really take the time to go through four years of my work, it felt like a very thorough ending to my D.Phil. experience.

At the end, I left the room exhausted, to sit quietly in Dan's office until called back in for their decision. There was a very big smile, some hand shaking, and a trip to the pub. And that was that, it was over. Dr. Molly Bright, D.Phil. (I have absolutely no idea when it will all fully sink in!)

Submitted!

Well, I submitted electronically to a printer in Oxford and then Dave walked two copies and additional paperwork over to the correct university office, just before Christmas.  But when I visited Ox at New Year's I got to see the final bound amazingness! 208 pages--it is wicked heavy.  Highly satisfying :)  Next up.... defense (called a viva, for viva voce or lively discussion), corrections, real hardcover binding, submission to library, waiting for paperwork, applying for visa, officially getting a job somewhere, still doing science at the NIH, etc. so no big break for me.  (yet.)    But it feels so great to be done with the biggest step!!

I always wanted to be Queen...

Tuesday I ventured to a part of England I have never been before... google "croyden face-lift" for some lovely derogatory remarks about the surrounding environs.  The Royal Marsden Hospital has a site in Sutton, about 40 minutes out of Victoria station, which is far enough away from metropolitan London to have unmanned train stations where nothing checks that you have a ticket.  (I obviously had proper tickets, my time in Berlin has me very paranoid about traveling "schwartz.")  The hospital looks like a miserable construction of greenish corrugated metal, but is apparently immensely respected for its cancer research and treatments.  Inside is chaotic, and as someone told me "they try to keep the atmosphere very upbeat seeing as it is a cancer hospital."  It succeeds at the bubbly optimism, but it still feels structurally like an old elementary school.

I was making the journey to meet with a highly established researcher that I spoke with just prior to leaving Oxford in December.  She is referred to as the "Queen of HIFU."  Awesome.  My college tutor had arranged a coffee meeting for us all, thinking that we might get along and I might do well to move into this area of research.  Yes, despite not being the typical "old boy" in the Oxford world, the old boys club has been taking care of me of late.

At that meeting, we talked in very vague generalities... "I think I might want to do X" and "Y is very interesting to me" and "I like how P and Q would utilize good parts of the research I do now."  I liked her, and the way she was very straightforward and open to my opinions and interests.  It was a no-brainer to ask to meet her again on this visit, and after sending a very over-thought three-paragraph email I had a nearly instant two sentence reply: "OK, great!  The 9th or 10th would be best for me."  Life lesson: don't fret too much about subtle wording in letters to busy academics.

This meeting was different, as I came in with slightly more knowledge and soul-searching under my belt.  I had read several review papers from the last few years describing the broad field of research as it currently stands as well as the promising directions for the future.  The area I am very strongly leaning towards throwing myself at would incorporate focused ultrasound (her domain) and neuro-MRI (apparently where my skills come into play).  A big problem of delivering drugs is that the blood vessels are kept very well encased, preventing most molecules you pump into the bloodstream from ever being absorbed by the tissue cells that you want to be treated.  Focused ultrasound is normally used with enough power to heat up cells in the focal point, usually bad cells in tumors etc, until they die.  BUT, if you use slightly lower power, you don't cause any damage to the cells but instead can disrupt the "blood brain barrier" for a little while.  So, a little bit of ultrasound can reversibly open up little pockets in the blood vessel walls in a very localized and controlled bit of tissue... if you inject some drugs at this point, the drugs will be kept nice and tidy in the blood vessels everywhere but the disrupted area.  You can deliver toxic drugs in much lower doses than currently being used, and actually get MORE drugs at the place you want them.  Yay!

So where does MRI come in?  Well, MRI is exceptionally good at making pretty anatomical pictures, which would be immensely helpful in figuring out where we want to direct the focused ultrasound.  Plus, if you mix in some MRI contrast agent with the drug you want to deliver, you can observe where the mixture is "leaking" into the cells successfully.  Of course, I really want to do all this in the brain, and there is a small problem... the skull causes massive distortions in the ultrasound waves, and requires really clever arrays of many ultrasound transducers all working together in an intelligent way to overcome this itty bitty gigantic problem.

This stuff has all been done by a few groups around the world.  It appears to work AND be safe in small animals.  I love the idea that with this method I could have a career working on hundreds of different medical conditions and problems.  And I would be doing a bit more physics, while still dragging in the work I already have done.  I would probably have to do animal research now, which I *think I am okay with but will need to think about.

So, I very carefully told the HIFU (high intensity focused ultrasound) guru that I "know she isn't working in this area but this is where my interest is."  And she replied that she has been wanting to get into this kind of work for a long time now.  Let's apply for a four year project grant, with me as one of the named post-docs (whoa), in a joint venture with Oxford and the Royal Marsden.  I wouldn't reinvent the wheel, but rather go to Paris, or Zurich, to learn about the magical arrays of ultrasound transducers needed to get around the skull problem, and then I would come back to the UK and implement it.

Right, so we talked a lot more, and all the details will likely bore those of you who have actually read this far down (sorry!  Is it obvious that I'm thinking about this all the time?!).  Ultimately, it is an amazing offer.  I would be in something from the baby stages, which is hard work but would make me a total expert in a field that I expect to be getting huge in the next 10 years.  It's a little overwhelming, knowing I have to write a big giant grant whilst writing a thesis, even if she says she'll helps lots.  And what if the money isn't there, just due to the way money is these days...

So I need backup plans.  But, in general, I really like this area of research.  For the first time in a long time I am very enthusiastic about science.  We shall see how this plays out...

(!)