I started my PhD in January 2018, slightly nervous but ready for the project I’d been excited about for nearly a year. I took some time to find my feet (as I think all new PhD students do!), but I felt like I knew what I was doing after some time, and nothing was going to stop me!
I planned to use embedded sensors in prosthetic sockets for individuals with lower-limb amputations to measure pressure during different activities. The goal was to complete data collection where participants performed activities of daily living in the lab and capture the motion data for validation and further understanding of the movements. I was keen to do the data analysis, find trends between different socket types, and how socket pressure affects movement and overall health.
I spent months preparing for participant testing, creating hardware, refining software and ensuring ethics approvals were in place. By March 2020, I was ready to start testing, just in time for the UK’s national COVID-19 lockdown and the suspension of “non-critical” clinical trials. I took advantage of the time at home, writing up work I’d already done and reading papers that had accumulated for over a year. A few of us from the lab set up a virtual reading and writing group a couple of times a week for company and to keep motivated.
As the weeks continued, it became evident that restrictions were here to stay. Uncertainty made planning difficult and by the end of the first month of lockdown, I was a little (read: a lot) stressed about my PhD. Here I found an open and honest relationship with my supervisor helpful, something I wish I had kept in mind later on. The first few weeks were productive, however, there’s only so much one can write when testing hasn’t started. Precious time was creeping away from me. If I didn’t start recruiting participants soon, how would I collect data and analyse it before I ran out of funding?!
Time was ticking away, with about 6 months until I was due to finish my PhD, and testing wasn’t looking like it was going to restart anytime soon. That anxiety started to spill over more often and bigger than before. I didn’t want this, I didn’t ask for it, and I didn’t feel like I had a way out, even though there didn’t seem to be a way through. Even if I could get to the end of my PhD by changing the plan and the output, it wasn’t going to give me the skills I wanted. I felt alone and like I’d wasted nearly three years on something that wasn’t going to work out. From my perspective, the others in my lab didn’t seem too severely affected. They were at different stages in their PhD – either right at the beginning or in the data analysis stage. I didn’t feel I had anyone to turn to. I didn’t want to talk to my supervisor or PhD friends about it because I felt like I should be able to cope with this – everyone else was. I didn’t want to seem like I was “stupid” or like I wasn’t good enough to be doing a PhD. In hindsight, I feel this was a mistake. Having the reassurance earlier would have meant less anxiety and more support, and previously I had recognised how helpful it was talking to my supervisor!
With everything up in the air but time passing, the only way through was to pull myself together. I don’t mean just to pretend everything was okay, but I had to rationalise and develop a contingency. Taking a break in studies wasn’t an option for me; being without my stipend would mean I couldn’t afford to live. I just had to keep going. There’s nothing like the fear of failure to kick me up the behind and cause me to focus on what I can control. For me, this means creating lists, schedules and plans of work. Instead of collecting data from participants, I came up with a plan to create a biofeedback tool for the clinical environment. Still useful and contributes to the big picture and didn’t rely on easing of COVID-19 restrictions. However, it eliminated the focus on biomechanics that I wanted and shifted towards software development. I was simultaneously terrified and relieved. It felt like a massive uphill battle to learn all these unplanned new things in a matter of weeks. Our virtual writing groups evolved into regular, almost twice daily working groups for company, advice and moral support. I didn’t see it at the time, but the regular sessions were probably a sign that we all needed them, and I wasn’t as alone as I thought.
The security of having to rely only on myself to complete my PhD was oddly comforting. I felt like as long as I put the effort in, I could finish my PhD. My stress levels were at an all-time high trying to make my software work, but that anxiety of not having a PhD wasn’t really there anymore. I caught up regularly with my supervisor and was open about my difficulties, which helped me feel like she knew I hadn’t given up.
The main thing missing from my PhD, nearly three years in, was testing. I couldn’t just make something and decide it worked without anyone using or seeing it. I came up with a protocol for virtual usability testing with clinicians to gain feedback on my software. Miraculously, I received ethical approval rapidly, exceeded my recruitment target in a week and completed all sessions by the end of January 2021. At the time, it felt like the first bit of success I’d had in months.
In the middle of April, I finished my thesis draft and submitted by the end of May. It’s several months later than I wanted, and it’s not the PhD I wanted either, but it’s an achievement nonetheless. I am so relieved and feel like I have achieved something, to complete a PhD with so much lost time in a global pandemic. I still mourn the PhD that should have been, the skills I would have developed, the results I would have contributed to the field. When I worry about the quality of my PhD, I try to think about it as a friend’s work instead of my own. It helps me to be rational and objective as we can be our own harshest critic. I reflect that I’ve taught myself skills I would never have considered myself capable. I’ve built professional relationships with clinicians, surgeons, people with amputations and researchers. I’m never going to go back and do the PhD I once planned for, but nothing is saying I can’t develop the skills I want to in the future. After all, I learned skills that were brand new to me, so why not?
I will soon start a postdoctoral position using my knowledge of software creation, contextual understanding, and relationships from my PhD for a new project. I should hopefully develop those skills I longed to during my PhD, analysing data and relating it to the real-world implications, but also am using the skills I wouldn’t have had if I hadn’t completed the “new” PhD.
I share my journey, thoughts, anxieties, and strategies for others in a similar boat. I know I am not alone in facing unexpected changes throughout my PhD. Many of us, I’m sure, are completing PhDs we hadn’t planned for or thought we wanted. You’re not alone, and the resilience to get through a PhD during a global pandemic will stand each of us in good stead. Sometimes we just need to step back to appreciate our hard work and achievements. As they say, a perfect PhD is a done PhD.