“We race mindlessly through life, berating our signs and symptoms without realizing that all they were ever trying to do was guide us back to our own truth. Signs and symptoms (illness and disease) are a blessing because they are trying to teach us what needs to change.” —Beth Bridges

This summer I was diagnosed with a large renal calculus, a kidney stone, and had 3 procedures surrounding its removal. After having a CT scan on September 5th, my nephrologists at Mayo Clinic found 12 more renal calculi. TWELVE. T-W-E-L-V-E. 12. More. Stones. I keep chewing on it in my mind. When will they pass? How badly will it hurt this time? How unhealthy have I become to be so chronically dehydrated?!

Over the course of any given year, I average: 42 hours per week at work —not including staying late — and 38 hours per week on call for an average of 80 hours per week. Some weeks, I do get more time at home or lucky nights with no calls. I fully understand I’m not physically at work or working the entire time, but the thing no one tells you about being on-call is how emotionally exhausting it is.

No one tells you how an over exposure to stress hormones like cortisol and lack of proper sleep cycles actually change your brain. The amount of times I’ve said, “I can’t, I’m on call,” breaks my heart because I value my relationships deeply. I can’t bake or cook anything that takes longer than 15 minutes because I could have to leave my house at any time. I can’t vacuum because I won’t hear the phone ring. I could drive half an hour home only to turn around 5 minutes later and go back to work. At night I toss and turn, anticipating the phone to ring and it only rings as soon as I get 30 minutes of sleep in. I miss my REM cycles of sleep and feel extremely foggy the next day. I forget to make phone calls or certain follow up items because my brain doesn’t function the way it did when it was healthy… when I was healthy. No one tells you how hard it is to give of yourself endlessly with compassion when your energy tank is already at zero and then come home and take care of everything else that needs doing.

It’s no wonder the attrition rate (rate at which young professionals are leaving the funeral industry) is so high right now. It is so easy to become completely disconnected from our soul that we completely lose our purpose and our passion. At some point, your body just says, “Enough.” “I am done.” The money, the job, the loss of health, the loss of sanity… *sigh* It’s absolutely not worth it. I am burned out.

So I decided to leave funeral service for now and pursue a new & exciting path: one that will cultivate my creative energy and allow me more time to spend on my passions— planning & organizing events, doing photography, winter travel, writing, being healthier, and spending time with loved ones and my pets.

Friends, life is way too short. If you’re stuck, find the ladder and climb out of the hole.