Off-ramp

Six years ago, I attended a panel discussion on lagging female professional achievement featuring then Senator Hillary Rodham Clinton.  She spoke about the many off-ramps we all experience in life and the lack of on-ramps to resume a professional career afterwards.  Little did I know that she was forecasting the next phase of my life.

Unfortunately this wasn't the happy arrival of one or more infants and balancing motherhood and a career. I got sick with one of those hard to diagnose, invisible, but all too debilitating illnesses.  Over the course of two years, I started getting sicker until I didn't feel safe driving, walking across campus, and finally walking down the hall.  Doctors seemed to write me off when it didn't fit neatly on their lists of treatments and diagnostic codes.  My student insurance left plenty of medical bills, and my research was going nowhere fast.  I eventually cut my losses and headed home.  I had a telecommuting research post-doc lined up and figured it would pay the bills while I wrote my dissertation and found an effective treatment or cure.

Then my dad went to the emergency room with an apparent stroke.  It was a bleeding brain tumor, and he was transferred to ICU with brain surgery scheduled in two days.  A month later, he was still in the ICU after a series of clotting problems and my research skills were put to use finding a neurosurgeon who would operate and didn't think he would die on the table.  I did, he lived and entered standard procedure treatment.  He was given eighteen months, and my new job and dissertation had fallen away.  Major offramp.

After helping my dad through radiation and chemotherapy, I needed to get back to work. Dad was on disability, mom had an early retirement she hadn't planned as a sole income, and I needed to push through.  My dad had just had brain surgery and was walking within a week, what was my excuse?

As a quick job I applied for an SAT tutoring position and they asked if I could get a 95th percentile on the MCAT.  I studied hard for two weeks, took a proctored practice exam and made the grade.  Unfortunately, I almost passed out during training and had to leave.  I didn't want to leave my parents with dad's prognosis, and found the impossible assistant professor position in my field, willing to consider an ABD and not only commutable but literally across the street.  The year before I flew across the country, then drove hours to interview.  This time I conducted the standard phone interview while looking at the campus and than walked to the in person.  But like the tutoring, I couldn't hide my symptoms through a six hour interview day.  I finally got a good diagnosis the next week, and started a semi-effective drug regime.

Having destroyed my dream job and still unable to do my research (which had been actively triggering migraines and associated neurological symptoms).  And still being physically and geographically limited, I changed career paths and settled on an imperfect fit with some very interesting work going on in the next department that I was assured I could grow into.  Dream department disappeared, hours of daily driving commutes pushed my physical limits and I was eventually fired for the increasingly obvious misfit.

So now I and too many million of my closest friends were on unemployment.  I picked up a lot more volunteer shifts at the local science center, and soon was hired for a part time position at a minimal wage.  I loved the job, and hoped a full time position would open up before unemployment ran out.  It didn't, the cancer is back with a vengeance.  And I'm more confused then ever on my next step, except that helping him through hospice outranks everything else.