A Rocky Road and a Fresh Start

Over the past few days, moving to Madison has become a lot more concrete in my mind. I have already started to pack my belongings. I suppose there are several reasons I have for doing this. First of all, I'm looking forward to going there and getting started on a wicked-cool new research project. I had a great time interviewing there and met a lot of great people during my visit. Why wouldn't I want more of that? Second, moving is a lot more difficult for me than it is for most other people-- because of my spinal implants, the weight I am able to lift is limited. Since I don't have much help here, it's often best for me to start packing far in advance. That way, I'm not scrambling to cram too much into boxes I can't reach, move, open, etc., at the last minute.

You may be wondering what I'm talking about when I say I have trouble doing some things. You see, in many ways Madison is going to be a fresh, new start for me. My path to scientific independence (despite how it may look), wasn't always as smooth as it is now. About eight years ago, I received a life-changing bit of news that had the potential to completely derail my plans for the future. A pancreatic tumor in someone my age (a very young woman) should have been annoying but easily reparable and it wasn't. Treatment that should have gone smoothly did not and as a result, complications ensued which forced me to put my life on hold. These sorts of "complications" plague millions of patients around the world, and I am by no means unique in this respect. The biggest monkey-wrench in all my plans and aspirations was not, in fact a neoplasm, but the damaged nerves left behind. I suffer from chronic pain... and looking at me today, you would never know.

I owe my health today to an implanted device called an intrathecal pump which, dispenses pain medication directly into the epidural space in my spine. Thanks to this device, I go about my daily life as if nothing ever happened. I feel no pain and because the dose required for intrathecal injection is so low, I experience no side effects from the medication either. I waited nearly five-and-a-half years for this level of relief and the part that's truly shocking about that, is the fact that I am one of the lucky ones. Millions more like me won't ever have so much as one more day in their entire lives without pain.

Life before the pump was nothing short of horrific. Between the pills, patches, celiac plexus blocks, botox and even a spinal cord stimulator, it was difficult to convince anyone in the medical community not to give up on me. In my case, the pump truly was the last resort. I used to take simple things like eating for granted; excruciating! Bombarded by skyrocketing medical bills, excluded by colleagues and classmates who didn't understand, and emaciated, I reached a point where my quality of life was virtually nil. It was hard not to be jealous of every other person in my life-- especially when I saw them happy. Even when faced with such odds, something propelled me forward.

Looking back, what motivated me had nothing to do with alleviating pain. Rather, it had more to do with what I believed was my ultimate purpose in life... come heck or high water, I was going to become the greatest astrobiologist I could possibly be and no obstacle on Earth was going to keep me from that! There were many days when I could not do anything but lie awake in my bed. To distract myself from the pain, I used to envision various pathways for abiogenesis. In my mind's eye, I could see ghostly organic layers swathed across crystalline surfaces alive with electrochemical purpose.

Rather than watching those miserable infomercials on TV at 3am while waiting for my pills to kick in, I would read papers about biomimetic synthesis, hydrothermal vents, and the origins of metabolic pathways. I have come to believe that solitude is crucial to the development of any young researcher because it allows us to get in touch with our deepest desires, fascinations, and questions without pointless distractions. Having this time to myself led to profound changes in the way I approached my work and ultimately, this set into motion the series of events which inspired me to break the mold, where my occupational development was concerned.

Most "astrobiologists-in-training" don't create start-ups before completing their formal education yet that is precisely what I have done. My education was interrupted by illness and the ignorance of others (who responded poorly to my state) not by choice. Not once, did I ever resolve to quit. Due to circumstances beyond my control, I simply took an interesting detour. Now that I am no longer suffering, I am almost indistinguishable from anyone else. Modest weight restrictions aside (lifting), if asked, I would probably tell you that my most defining personality characteristic is my sense of determination. For those of you out there who find yourselves in a position similar to the one I was in, I have one very important piece of advice: Keep your eyes on the prize and NEVER, ever, EVER, GIVE UP!!! Everyone in this life has a purpose and if somewhere deep inside the core of your being, there is a calling, the last thing you should ever do is ignore it. I am now reaping the rewards for paying attention to my own.

Unlike most other students across the country who will embark on the final phase of their formal education this fall, I am not taking any of my opportunities for granted. While I have shared a small piece of my journey (to this point) with you today, getting here was no walk in the park. In a way, packing my belongings is both symbolic and cathartic for me. After many long years of forcing myself to live in the past (4 billion years in the past, to be exact), I can finally turn my eyes to the future and all the incredible things I'm going to do with my life. If I hadn't gotten these implants that make packing just a little more difficult, I would not be doing anything at all for astrobiology.