We Found Nothing. I Still Had to Explain Everything

I spent months collecting blood from dogs who shouldn’t have survived Chernobyl. I thought the data would show something—anything—that would make the late nights and the silent train rides back worth it. But the results were clean. No dramatic mutations, no headline-worthy proof that radiation had rewritten their DNA. Just differences, like any two groups separated by a few miles and too many years. I wrote the report anyway. I answered every email, every skeptical question about why we didn’t find what everyone wanted. I tried to care about the subtle shifts in genes, about the heavy metals and the decades-old dust. But all I could think about was how much I wanted the data to matter. How much I needed it to mean something, so I could justify the cost of caring this much, for this long. #ScienceFatigue #LabBurnout #DataDisappointment #Science