Conclusion

Writing a conclusion for my thesis feels really strange. I kind of didn't really believe that it would ever be over, or maybe I just didn't believe that I would make it to this point. I'm not sure. Either way, it's definitely putting the last seven years in perspective.

I think in the end, my leukemia diagnosis coinciding with winning an award for Persona was especially bad for my mental health the past few years. I went from being amazingly lucky to have been in the right place at the right time doing great work, to being completely unsure of myself and feeling unable to live up to my past successes. It's bad enough when you're in grad school to compare yourself to other students, but to also have to compare yourself to your past self is a burden that can really drag you down, emotionally.

I remember being told to relax and focus on getting better by my advisor more times than I can count, and he's been right about it every time but of course it's not in my nature to listen to him. I kept feeling that so much was expected of me after Persona that it would disappoint Bobby and Neil if I didn't hit upon the next big topic and run with it soon. For a while after the bone marrow transplant, I found myself jumping from topic to topic, only discovering that someone else had beaten me to the punch or that the problem wasn't as novel as I wanted it to be. I became very critical of my own work and of the problems that I deemed worth working on. Naturally I also became very dissatisfied with many of the papers that I read because I had trouble believing that they even got published. At some point I set my bar way too high and I wasn't able to get it back down.

I've submitted something to SIGCOMM that has a chance to get in, though I'm not too optimistic. It's the first thing that I've actually gone all the way with and submitted since 2009, which feels like it's far too long ago. Part of me feels regret that I haven't managed to do more with my time in grad school. The other part of me, having just read through my entire dissertation, feels like I've actually accomplished a lot, even if most of it was from 2009 and before. More importantly, that part of me feels like I'm reaching the end of a journey, and I actually kind of find it hard to read the conclusion without getting at least a little emotional. This was a huge part of my life for the past seven years, and when you think about it, it's going to be a huge part of my life overall. Seeing my complete thesis makes it feel like all of the long nights, unreasonable demands, and unexpected difficulties on the road to the PhD have all been worth it. This is something I did. Nothing can take that away.

Health Care and OSNs

I'm working on my thesis right now. Rereading and editing our Persona paper, I reached the section about inherently private online social network (OSN) applications. I remember at the time thinking that sharing health information with doctors through an OSN was a weak example.

Of course, that was before I got leukemia. Now that I'm much more familiar with the health care system, I feel like this is the best reason for a Persona-like OSN. The. Best. Reason. Dealing with multiple doctors, health insurance representatives, and a pharmacy often reminds me of that old game: "Randy, would you please tell your brother that I'm not talking to him right now?" This is a more-or-less real example of how it works.

Dr. #1: "Randy, tell Dr. #2 that I said you can't have your surgery next week because you were sick last week."
Randy: "Why don't you tell him?"
(...Silence...)
Randy: "Well, you'll at least tell him what medications I'm on, right? He needs to know that."
Dr. #1: "No, you should do that too."
Randy: "Will he be able to do his job correctly based on second-hand knowledge given to him from someone who isn't a medical professional?"
Dr. #1: (flippantly) "Sure, why not?"
(...Pause for dramatic effect...)
Randy: "You know, I'm a fairly smart and organized person; how in the hell do your dumber patients manage to navigate this system without causing themselves serious harm?"
Dr. #1: "Sink or swim? Don't forget to go to radiology and get some x-rays; you'll need to take them with you when you see Dr. #2 next. They'll be expecting you."
Randy: "No they won't."
Dr. #1: "They will if you call ahead."
(...Randy shambles over to radiology on his broken hip...)
Receptionist: "Do you have a prescription from Dr. #1?"
Randy: "No, but he's in this same building. Shouldn't it be in your system? Can't you just call him?"
(...The receptionist stares at Randy as if he's from another planet...)
Receptionist: "If you don't have a prescription from Dr. #1 insurance won't cover it."
(...Shamble, shamble, shamble...)

OK, so, I'm being a bit unfair to the doctors and the receptionists and the nurses here. My doctor's not really a jackass like I'm making him out to be, and he's just doing his job filling a role in a broken system. Blaming him isn't going to change anything. As a wise man once said, "You're treating a symptom, when the disease rages on, consumes the human race. The fish rots from the head, as they say, so my thinking is why not cut off the head?" Unfortunately, the health care system, like other broken systems (campaign finance, the tax code, Congress) in America these days, seems to be more hydra than fish: the more heads you cut off, the more that take their place.

In any case, the primary barrier to better privacy controls in OSNs that might enable health care collaboration is not a technical one but a social or business one: how do you pay for it and how do you convince people to use it? I wish I had the answers to those questions, but right now all I want to do is finish my thesis and get a job.

Getting a job immediately after I finish my PhD in May is absolutely crucial: because of DOMA, I can't be included on Ted's health insurance so I will need (possibly in the literal, will-actually-die-without sense of the word) to have some sort of health insurance of my own. Kind of takes some of the celebration out of the fact that marriage equality is coming to Maryland very soon, since it doesn't do anything to change DOMA. I'm sure that President Obama's going to take care of that during his second term, but I don't have the luxury of waiting for that. I remember when I was younger thinking that politics really didn't affect me much and so I didn't care much about it. Suddenly, I feel like so many of the big issues of the day -- marriage equality, health care, government spending -- impact me specifically. Thank goodness I'm not also an immigrant woman... I might explode from the political pressure, or even worse, get featured on CNN in a fluff piece.