Big changes always send my thoughts into eddies. On July 4, I received an email with life-changing potential. An invitation veer off of my career path, to try something new and exciting – and terrifying. A month later, my closet contents are stuffed into bags and boxes on the kitchen floor, with my anatomy atlases tucked alongside.

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Ten years ago this weekend, I pomped and circumstanced on a muggy Michigan afternoon, tacking a few extra letters to the end of my name. Those three letters have defined my career for a decade, though even as I left the campus of Andrews University for the last time as a student, I hid a deep-seated dream. I hoped to one day return to academia on the other side of the desk.

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I took a gap year between undergrad and PT school to serve as a student missionary. I was absolutely-no-way going to be a teacher, so I settled on a call to be a “science tutor” on the outskirts of Nairobi, Kenya. Word to the wise? Missionaries always get more hats than they bargained for. 😏 I ended up teaching physical education, chemistry/physics/biology labs, and tutoring math – and I loved it. If Andrews University hadn’t sent me my physical therapy program polo announcing my acceptance to the grad program, I might have switched to education when I got home. Instead, I figured I “might as well” complete PT school, then make a decision.

I got into clinic life, and it clicked for a bit. But then I got really, really tired. I didn’t love my work anymore. I railed against a broken system that jeopardized the way I felt my patients deserved to be treated. I perused other options. I wondered if I could try teaching high school again, but I also considered being an engineer or an environmentalist or a coffeeshop barista.

Then, I got an email on July 4. And a phone call on July 5. And a contract on July 18. And here it is, August 5 – one week until I arrive on the campus of my alma mater’s sister university in Tennessee, taking a stab at teaching undergraduate students about the fascinating human body for 1-2 semesters.

I’ve been reassured that I’ll do just fine as an Assistant Professor of Anatomy & Physiology, but there’s a lot of settling in to be done. July has been a whirlwind of reviewing paperwork, packing supplies, reading texts, and making phone calls, all while completing a contract at an outpatient PT clinic.

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And so: an A&P sea ahead, and my moorings in Wisconsin behind.

I’m leaving a sister-roommate to watch over my incomplete house projects, and parents to their own devices. I’ll miss harvesting my garden, and visiting with family over Labor Day. I’ll sorely miss the golden weeks of early October in the Northwoods – the most beautiful time of fiery colors, crisp air, and all the things made with apples (my favorite food since age 2).  I’ll leave my snowshoes and skis in the shed, with no snow play expected. I already miss my church family and friends, and the lakes and trees and trails. But what a path has been laid out ahead of me!

So now I step into the boat, letting my trailing leg lift from the shore as the wind takes me where it will. I’m terrified – but I’m ready.

Bring it on. Let’s talk about cribriform plates and actin-myosin filaments!