Adventures in Microbiology

I've been working in a microbiology lab for one week and feel good about how well I'm taking to the job. It involves testing sample specimens of fluids and tissues from potentially-infectious patients for diseases. My work normally takes place in a small corner of the lab where I plate germs on agar or put samples in test tubes.

I am, however, a little nervous about a test that I was asked to do yesterday.

As a certain sample came into the lab in the morning, my trainers informed me do perform this test in a back room of the lab. I went in with my mentor and found two other people busy working inside. She told them what we were testing for and they, seeming to know the protocol, said it was okay if we locked the door. The four of us were locked in; the rest of the lab was locked out.

"Why would we need to lock the door?"

I'm already protected with gloves, coat, fume hood, sterilization, and hood guard. For goodness sakes, the lab is qualified to deal with bioterrorism. So I ask once again, "why would we need to lock the door?"

I didn't ask why locking the doors was so important because I was preoccupied with how distinctly it seemed like someone else was taking a calculated risk with my life.

My mind kept conjuring images of the hulking remains of Chernobyl-locked up in concrete to protect the ignorant who wandered nearby. My gut told me that the lab manager wanted to limit casualties if the test took a turn for the worse. He might one day find himself saying, "The test finally went wrong, but at least we only lost four people. The rest of the lab was protected by a locked door."

It's mostly the uncertainty that gets me. So far I feel fine, but I want to be reassured that nothing I do at work will render me infertile of give me skin cancer. No one has said anything like that to me and it is unsettling.