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How Did I Prepare for The Big Day: My Thesis Defense in Medical Physics?

A month later. This past month, time slipped away unnoticed, as I found myself juggling so many tasks simultaneously that I didn’t have the luxury to ponder the next 24 hours.

Looking back now, it seems almost like a fairytale that just two years ago, after graduating in mathematics, I could relish in the luxury of doing practically nothing for a couple of weeks. How time flies.

Recent times have taught me some hard lessons.

What Hard Lessons Did I Learn Along the Way?

Firstly, not every supervisor sees a stint at a rigorous training camp, even one as prestigious as a summer school for which I earned a grant, as a commendable initiative. Some bosses view it as evading work. 

Secondly, having the legal entitlement to around 43 days of annual leave as a doctoral student doesn’t shield you from criticism when you choose to use those days to work on your master’s thesis. In fact, it can lead to threats of dismissal. Worse, this critique arises when you’re already under the pressure of a looming defense deadline, and new defense regulations are imminent. For me, the last feasible day was September 28th, the final working day of the month. Naturally, that’s when I scheduled my defense. What a perfect command of procrastination…

Thirdly, anyone who’s at fault seems to find solace in blaming you. According to Mezulis et al. (2004), this self-serving pattern of shifting blame outward for setbacks is a robust, well-documented bias, not just a personal grievance. My tutor in physics was friendly.

Yet not as available as needed due to a multitude of graduate students to oversee. He blamed me for not dedicating enough effort to my work, affecting my grade so much that even the dean expressed astonishment at my defense. 

A similar pattern emerged at my workplace. The bosses, who for a year didn’t show much interest, now spearheaded a campaign questioning why I hadn’t produced meaningful results two months before the evaluation. Navigating this tricky situation proved challenging.

Am I Really Free Now That It’s Behind Me, or Just Free to Worry Anew?

September turned into a real horror show, and I’m relieved that my defense is finally behind me. I wonder what I would have done without my amazing partner, who supported me through thick and thin and provided valuable guidance for my exam preparation. Dancing, too, offered a release valve.

I signed up for salsa classes, which were incredibly relaxing. It turns out that stress and dance make a perfect pair.

What Comes Next After Years of Intensive Study?

So, how does one feel after severing the academic umbilical cord, leaving behind years of intensive studies? After all these years of hard work and sacrifices, what’s the next step? As I dust my hands off, I prepare to face new challenges, knowing that tough hurdles lie ahead.

Mentally, it’s possibly even more demanding than before, when I was a student at summer schools. According to Levecque et al. (2017) in Research Policy, roughly one in two PhD students experiences psychological distress, more than in comparable highly educated groups. Sometimes, ignorance might indeed be bliss. 

What Do I Really Want From My Environment?

I now realize that my environment lacks the stimulation I crave. While I strive for my project’s success, I’m unclear about what I’m truly fighting for. I recognize that I could learn faster in a different lab with more involved mentors, as opposed to sitting in solitude for forty hours with a computer as my only companion. According to Paglis, Green and Bauer (2006), doctoral students with more actively engaged mentors show significantly higher research productivity and self-efficacy over time. The absence of a vibrant atmosphere takes a toll, gradually diminishing my enthusiasm as each day progresses. According to Hackman and Oldham (1976), jobs low in variety, autonomy, and meaningful challenge consistently produce lower internal motivation and satisfaction over time.

Of course, there are silver linings to tranquility, but still… and as of now, nothing seems to be changing. Frustration persists.

Observing the disparities between Dutch, German, and British students, where the latter two focus less on publishing but engage in more collaborative projects, makes me realize the drawbacks of the Dutch education system. 

This leaves me somewhat bewildered, as I grapple with the dilemma of striving for something I’m dispassionate about, within a system that confines me within four walls, or seeking opportunities elsewhere. 

This time, I’m far more aware of the intricacies of computational neuroscience, my own interests, and where I can truly thrive. The only thing holding me back is not wanting to let down my partner, who followed me here.

And not wishing to drag him around the globe. He’s displayed more adaptability than I expected from anyone.

Indeed, adulthood brings its challenges. I shudder to think of the responsibilities that will accumulate once I settle down for good. For now, I struggle to find my own path, let alone manage additional responsibilities.

“You Are God.”

In other news, a famous movie titled “You Are God” was recently released. Coincidentally, when I traveled for my defense, I landed in Katowice and spent the night in the apartment in Bogucice, my childhood home. Just a couple of streets from the building where a certain group called Paktofonika created their music. In this city, and especially in this neighborhood, time seems to stand still. 

The place is eerily quiet around ten o’clock at night, with hardly a soul in sight. It’s mostly older individuals and athletes who remain; the rest have moved elsewhere for work or studies. The film’s set designers hardly needed to work to capture the turn-of-the-century atmosphere.

Removing a few signs from local stores that had cropped up recently was enough. The rest of the landscape remains virtually unchanged.

After my defense, we watched this film in a movie theatre to unwind. It’s a peculiar feeling when an entire cinema room is overcome with emotion, shedding tears and wringing hands over the fate of characters who are so familiar and relatable that their struggles feel like second nature. This is the life they’ve always known, their environment and their reality. 

When the entire audience feels invested in the journey of a young boy grappling with life and societal changes. And the room is filled with shock at an on-screen death, it’s a stark reminder of how pain and poverty, once ordinary or even expected, have shaped these lives. 

Where I Come From

I recall, during primary school, not a single academic year passed without a funeral for a fellow student. Once, it was my closest friend who suffered a tragic fate, brutally raped and murdered during summer break when I was only nine years old. On the last day before the holidays, I was chatting with a friend.

And on the first day back, I found myself alone. Such a simple change had such a profound impact on my life.

It’s strange to witness my own reality transformed into a legend. Suddenly, millions are flocking to cinemas to experience a movie about my local culture, eager to understand our perspectives and appreciate our music. Simplicity is a hallmark of Silesians, sometimes bordering on naivety.

Yet they are also characterized by their resilience and tenacity, traits that resonate in the film. I take immense pride in my roots.