Explaining myself

I find that I'm explaining myself quite a bit these days.  When I was in school, it was clear.  I was in school, working on my PhD.  It's a known box.  No further explanation necessary.

Now I'm not in school.  I've got the PhD but I'm not interested in working in biomedical engineering.  That's where the explanations start. 

"Why?" people ask.

I don't like the work, the tedium of research.  I haven't found it to be a good use of my skill set or a good fit with my personality.  I'm disturbed by the amount of biohazardous and chemical waste we produce in research -- and the amount of waste in general -- especially when we use plastic disposable everything to run our experiments in aseptic conditions.  I question whether this allocation of resources into research is really the best way to alleviate the suffering of people who are sick. 

Having spent many, many hours with people who were terminally ill, I wonder how much better patients' lives might be if the same effort we put into extending their lives was put into improving the quality of the days they already have.  Actually, even a fraction of the effort would make a huge difference.  Improving the quality of their days doesn't require brilliant scientists in state-of-the-art research facilities using expensive equipment and toxic chemicals.  Just a visit by someone who cares would do it.  Some time spent reading a book or holding a hand or just sitting by the bedside would do it. 

Aside from all that, I believe that we have more pressing problems.  I believe that our train of progress is heading for an abyss of environmental catastrophe and social crises.  I could ignore that, go on with business as usual and tinker about inside the train like a good engineer.  Or, I could try to do something to prevent our train from reaching the abyss.  Somehow, the latter course of action just makes more sense to me.