This morning I woke up feeling like Danaerys. By noon it was more like Cercei after her walk of shame.
This week was supposed to be a test on whether I’d be able to continue working through treatment. I really love my job. I’m really good at it. I’m a trainer. Every day I get to use stories, parables, and metaphors to break down and explain super complex healthcare industry knowledge for my coworkers. I had a great year, professionally speaking, in 2020 and was really pumped to keep that momentum going. Friday I have a meeting scheduled with one of our company’s Senior Vice Presidents to talk about one of our company’s 2021 initiatives. He didn’t ask for my input, but I saw an opportunity to put myself and my information before him (in a moment of Danaerys like passion and Cercei like hubris) and he accepted my request. Just like that. It’s just that kind of company. Today it became apparent that working during treatment probably won’t be sustainable. I’ve got an appointment this afternoon and perhaps one of their Maesters have some magical potions there to help with my symptoms. But probably not. So I may not be back to work for awhile. I may have to miss that presentation on revenue cycle tomorrow and my big presentation with the SVP on Friday. I couldn’t be more bummed out about that.
But ultimately I’m okay with it. I can only fight so many dragons at a time. I know that focusing on my treatment is the important thing, the only thing. And I know that I’ll be back at work as soon as I’m able and that I’m gonna kick some ass there once again.