From dSavannah Rambles blog.

 

Five years ago yesterday was the last day of my last job, the end of my professional life, and the start of my life as a disabled person (although I didn’t know at the time that it was the end, and it took me a long time to call myself disabled).

My last full-time, professional job (as opposed to the random jobs, like pet-sitting, that I had been doing to make some money), I had been teaching at a large university in my state, and the third semester “broke me”.

My recollection is fuzzy on how I felt and what I did, but I can tell you definitively that I knew I had no choice but to quit. And it hurt to admit that, and it hurt to actually resign. I loved teaching. I loved my students. I loved sharing what I had experienced during my 20+ year marketing career to people who wanted to learn.

But my health said ‘nope’.

By October, two months after the school year had started, I knew I could not continue. I resigned so the college could find a replacement for my spring classes, but I finished the semester anyway – I was NOT gonna leave my 150 or so students in a lurch, or cause hardship for some new instructor.

December 14, 2014, five years ago, I was done. I’d turned in grades to the school and uploaded grades and feedback to the online learning management system for my students.

And… I collapsed. I became a full-time Sick Person. (I tried to do some things; but ultimately they just made me worse.)

 

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