Blogging Across Boundaries: Science Edition

I grew up in a home full of brilliant people. My three older sisters had each skipped a grade in elementary school, so naturally, when teachers saw my name on their class list, they assumed I would be equally gifted. By mid-October the teacher had arrived at the unfortunate conclusion that I was painfully average.

I never failed a class or even scored below a C, but I may as well have. I felt like the village idiot most of the time. The only areas in which I excelled were in English comprehension and spelling. Through high school I did really well in English Literature and Languages (French and Spanish).

So why then, was my first career in the area of science? I was lab technologist and worked very happily in the Blood Bank department of one our local hospitals for fifteen years. Well, partly it was a program that my older sister had completed, and it seemed so interesting and even a bit exotic. It was a way to apply all that biology and chemistry that I had struggled with in high school. It also didn't hurt that most hospital labs are tucked away in the far reaches of the hospital away from all the people. I was pathologically shy in high school, and hadn't really emerged from that desire to help people but not necessarily see them. Lab work was perfect.

As expected, I graduated in a class of ten people, achieving 5th place in the final grading. What is it about science that challenges my brain so much? When I was 38, I went back to school. First, I worked through a general BA and discovered to my amazement that I could write. And think critically. And articulate abstractions in philosophy, sociology and literary criticism. My grades in my first year were all A or A+. Our children were still both under 10 at that point and I was still working part time at the hospital, and I still did well in my courses. At the age of 38, I discovered I was not a dufus after all. Apparently my brain prefers the abstractions of the arts, and recoils from the more linear thinking involved in math and science.

All of that is a long-winded introduction to my Blogging Across Boundaries topic: The Krebs Cycle. (Where was Wikipedia when I was in highschool???)

In high school biology, the Krebs Cycle really got under my skin. We had to memorize it, of course. So I had complex and impressive charts and I could spell all the words and, hey, just for fun I could even add colour! But I had no idea what it meant. None. I stayed after class and the teacher patiently gave me the best explanation he could and I was too embarassed to tell him I was still clueless. So I asked my friends.

Interestingly, the one who did the best job explaining the Krebs Cycle is now an Internal Medicine Specialist teaching at one of Canada's best med schools. The one who sounded great but didn't really answer the question is now a lawyer.

So, for what it's worth, with some thanks to teh Internets -- I think the Krebs Cycle explains how the Ben & Jerry's Vermonty Python ice cream I ate last night gave me a sugar buzz. All aerobic, or oxygen-using, critters have a process by which they break down (catabolize) sugar, protein and fat into usable energy. That process is, you guessed it, the Krebs Cycle.

It's not a piece of information that I need on a daily basis, but the challenge was to post about a subject unknown or not understood. So there you have it. I want some ice cream...