Tough Realizations (Part I)

What felt like a whirlpool inside a sinkhole around this time last week, is finally looking like just a simple crater (minus the suction) now. For the past month or so, I have not been able to fully shake off a flare. With fewer hours spent at work or recreation, and more resting on my heating blanket in bed, I feel like I am starting to get this down to somewhat manageable levels. My doctor and I are also working on new medication to see if that can help with the daily pain and fatigue management. The upshot of all of this has been a lot of soul-searching, a healthy helping of frustration and some unavoidable, tough realizations about the way forward.

PeekingThrough_signed_framed
“Pushing Through” – crocus flowers pushing through the snow in spring (digital, “oil on canvas” finish)

Until last year, I had some hopes of being able to graduate and move on to an academic postdoctoral training job. I had the condition enough under control to be a reasonable (though less-than-ideal) postdoc for few years to gain the training I would need to eventually move on to a more cushy, permanent job. But I rapidly realized that those dreams were castles built in air, for two reasons:

(1) My body decided even coming close to that kind of workload is a no-go.

(2) “Reasonable” postdoc jobs are practically impossible to find. The boss wants a publication-machine, not a person with a life. Add a chronic illness to that? Unthinkable!

Which brings me to the tough realization – that unless a fairy-godmother steps out of a pumpkin for me, I am probably going to have to take a real break after graduating and be out of “real” work; or (what feels like a complete non-option), take on a postdoc job that might be the (figurative) death of me.

In case you were wondering what I mean by “real” work, you are in good company. I have been giving that a lot of thought lately too, and may be topic for a future post in itself.

I feel like some part of me knew all along that it would come to this, but I needed the latest flare to remind me to quit kidding around. I spent the entire last year coming up with every reason for why I cannot be out of a job – everything ranging from financial, to emotional, to career potential and innate ambition. But all of that has come to nothing. I realized that the time is here and now for my husband and I to start revising our budget to account for the absence of my paycheck. And I am not looking forward to the pain that changing health insurance plans will inevitably be!

What I do know for sure is that it would be utter stupidity now to ignore the gut-punch that my body has just dealt me. (Talk about tough love!) And that I need to prioritize my health in a very real way – not in the kind of tangential way I had been doing before. I know things are going to be financially tight for a while, but I am hoping that taking a temporary break will help me get back to a different kind of work later on. Otherwise, I am afraid I might crash for good at some point in the (probably not-too-distant) future and never be able to work at all, and then finances will be tight forever!

For now, I am trying to focus on pushing through one day at a time. I try to keep my chin up that this might be the beginning of a new trajectory that might lead on to a fruitful new journey. I am not one who believes in regrets. I believe that every path we choose at a fork leads us down a different probability. And each of those probabilities will have its own ups and downs, and none will be perfect. So take your pick and let life lead you on!

Love,

Fibronacci

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