By Teresa Yea

I worked in a lab back in college. One day I was paired with a PhD mentor, presumably to teach me to be a better scientist. We went to the liquid nitrogen room and my mentor handed me the hose to the pressure tanks.

“Okay, open her up,” she said, squatting down with a bucket to catch the spray of liquid nitrogen.

“Um… Are you sure?”

She nods. “Full blast.”

“It looks a little dangerous,” I said.

“Give it to me.”

I hesitated, pausing just long enough for her to reconsider her life cho...