I have planned, now for months, to write about what I expect from a new postdoc. But life has intervened, as it will. Someone that I care about has asked me "what's this medical thingy my doctor said? ... but what does it mean???" You may know the pain of trying to explain to someone that actually "I am Not That Kind of Doctor". This can be amusing/irritating, when you meet folks that you don't know very well and they want to know what the random thing on their elbow is, or are curious about why they ankle hurt only after they walk up stairs. But there is nothing more shitty when the person that is asking this question is someone in your family. Who has visited a doctor and got a scary-sounding diagnosis. And then you get called to explain "what does it mean?". Which, of course, you don't know. Because you are Not that Kind of a Doctor. I'm sorry, but I can't help here.
You need help looking at a Western blot? I'm your girl. I can help with your genetics or biology homework. But this shit is too much. I can't read between the lines and tell you "how bad it is". I wish I knew. I want to be in the room to ask all the questions that are flooding in my mind. But at this moment, my graduate training is worthless. I can tell you what the words mean (kinda). But there is no way I can tell you what they mean. I just can't.