I can’t predict the future. I don’t know what the Lord has in store for me. He’s started dropping hints again after a week’s silence following what happened just recently, which likely means something is going to happen again.
I haven’t done one of these in awhile. My last one was in December, I believe. Even in two short months, my life has changed a great deal. Not for the better, unfortunately. And since I’m having some painsomnia along with my general refusal to sleep at night for the most part anymore, I guess I may as well talk about it to some more sympathetic ears than I’ve been getting the past few days.
I lost my job last week. I understand why, but that doesn’t make it any easier to bear. My FMLA ran out last June, after which point my job was unprotected; they could have gotten rid of me then. Instead, they gave me as much time as they could for me to get well enough to return to work, which I failed to do twice, once in October, and again in January, when I was diagnosed with POTS. (Here’s a bit of what a day in my life looks like now thanks to POTS, except I pretty much stay in bed now.)
But anyway, now it’s prime recruiting season at the hospital and I’m not naive enough to think they would keep me any longer. They’d rather replace me with a new residency graduate who has some clinical knowledge, but has absolutely no idea how to actually be a pharmacist.
Although I don’t feel quite as bad sometimes when I think about what a literal revolving door my specific tiny department within an enormous department is. And it is a tiny department, with something like a dozen pharmacists total for a 24/7 operation. But since 2010, the year I started working there, I’m 99% certain, if my list is correct, that I am the 20th pharmacist to leave. In seven years.
Yet my emotions are still very raw. I keep crying periodically. Ok fine, I cry a lot. I want to scream and throw things and then go to bed and never wake up. I’m back in what I call my depression hole; I have periods where I just won’t talk and will only communicate via head movements or shrugs because I feel if I open my mouth to speak, I’ll fall apart. I took the picture on the right immediately after I found out so I’ll always remember how much it hurt.
So now the big question is, what do I do with myself now? Honestly, if I ever get well, I don’t know that I have the intention of reapplying in the future or to ever practice pharmacy again. What a waste of six years of education. I was never a good pharmacist in my opinion anyway.
But David and I had a heart to heart Friday night between us and God. We came to the conclusion that I’m basically going to start my life all over again. I’ve been through so much in the past year (or even really the past four years starting with my celiac disease diagnosis, then the endometriosis…) Between all my diagnoses, my surgeries, trying to get better on a deadline when my body wasn’t ready, being stressed out by that, getting worse, and so on, it’s finally time to take my foot off the accelerator. I’m setting intentional goals that I (hope) I am capable of and can work towards.
Not thinking about work or a return date or ever going back there ever again.
Do my cardiac rehab to the best of my ability in an effort to improve my POTS, and therefore my quality of life.
Do things I want to do that will make me happy.
Studying the Word
Listening to music
Take baby steps towards normalizing my life.
David will encourage me and I will encourage him.
Focus a bit on getting the house cleaned up.
So, really, living my life the way I want to, with as little stress as possible to maybe help promote faster healing. No deadlines.
A new me.
I started life over again in 2004 when I started pharmacy school, leaving behind my old life of dance and musical theater.
I started life over again in 2010 when I graduated from pharmacy school, got married, moved, passed my boards, and started my career.
And I’m starting my life over again in 2017 when my health is in shambles and my pharmacy career is over.
We’ll see where the road takes me. But after all I’ve been through, I can only hope it’ll be to a happier place.
I’ve feared for the past year since I went on medical leave (on June 10, 2016) that this day would come. That my recovery wouldn’t happen fast enough for the almighty powers that be and that my position would be posted, Continue reading “An Existence I Can No Longer Have”