Painful Decision

I'm back.
I've been post less for the last month. Not because I haven't had what to say but because too much stuff has been going on and I haven't really found the words. That is to say, when too many things happen at once, my mind tends to turn on the Emergency Broadcast System signal and all I hear is that loud beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.
I'm leaving the hospital and pediatric oncology after 12 years. I will be an educational consultant for an oncology pharmaceutical company so in some ways will still stay in the world of cancer and medicine. But I'm selling out.
I always used to say everyone's a whore for the right price. Now I know my price.
But the other truths (because there is never only one truth) are that I am and have been ready for a major life change for awhile now. Professionally speaking, pediatric oncology is a bitch. But it's a bitch that I love. It's complicated, painful, funny, sorrowful and busy. It steals part of your soul. It  can make you an atheist and restore all hope in humanity at the same time. For me, it hasn't restored my belief in the God of my childhood. That belief is long gone. Never to return. I like to think that maybe it's just changed the concept of a Power of the Universe for me- but most days, I'm just left in a vacuum.
You can't possibly be surrounded with so much suffering and ugliness every day and be left unscathed.
That's not to say we don't have our share of the faithful among us. Especially here in the South. There are very religious folk down here. I am constantly amazed at the ability of people who, in the midst of a colossal shit storm, remain faithful.
I am not one of them. In fact, just being a spectator to the suffering- removed enough to be able to push it out of my mind for most of the day- has left me faithless.
But as I said, this job has allowed me to see people do supernaturally strong things. People who say thank you after you tell them devastating news. People who bring flowers to the unit a few days after their childs funeral. People who have such clarity about what it means to be a parent. These parents that I've met along the way have the strength of a pack of wolves. It's hard to describe that strength. You need to see it in a action to understand.
Over a decade of being immersed in this world has left me cynical, agnostic and intolerant. Intolerant of the woes of suburbia. Intolerant of colds and viruses. Intolerant of anything that isn't terminal.
Taking a break from this will probably be a good thing for my psyche (at least that's what my friends and family keep telling me) but I can't imagine what life is going to look like without it. My "job" has defined me for a long time. My "co-workers" (lifeline/sanity/friends forever) have given me a community and a support group. I've grown up here.
To say that I will miss the hospital and all that those walls hold is a gross understatement.
The new job includes traveling but when Im not traveling, I'm working from home. Many days, I will get to be there when my kids get home from school. That's never happened. I may even get to attend a school function mid-day. I won't be a crazy woman every morning trying to get myself and 2 kids dressed and in the car by 7:15 because this girl can wear sweatpants all day and no makeup necessary. If I need to take a sick child to the pediatrician, I can without having the anxiety and guilt about leaving the hospital to do so.
But, the travel. It's going to be a huge adjustment. There will be many evenings and nights that I will be away. This makes me belly-flopping anxious. Mostly because it's an unknown right now. I texted a friend who does this for a living: "tell me my kids won't end up serial killers because their mom travelled a lot for work". Her response: "Nah". Not very convincing.
I think it's going to be OK. I think the kids will be fine those evenings I'm away. I think I'll be home more often than I am now.
And as far as I know, Charles Mansons mom didn't travel for work.