I’m Going Back to School: A Three-Year, Self-Funded Research Sabbatical (Kind Of)

Liz Salmi presenting to students at Harvard Medical School. (2024)

Photo: Me presenting to students at Harvard Medical School, sharing an image from my fourth brain surgery. (2024)

After eight years working in health research, it’s finally time for me to admit I’m a researcher and educator.

So, I’m going back to school.

You heard that right. During the 2025-2026 academic year, I’m starting what I’m lovingly referring to as a three-year, self-funded research sabbatical. AKA: I’m returning to college to finish my bachelor’s degree. For the first year I’ll be juggling a full-time class load while continuing to work half-time with OpenNotes. If all goes well, I’ll transfer to a four-year university in fall 2026, stop working to focus on my studies, and graduate around age 50.

It’s a long road. And I’m scared. I worry my brain won’t cooperate. I was diagnosed with acalculia after brain surgery #3. The cognitive and emotional weight of 18 years of brain cancer is no joke. But I’ve got a full neuro-oncology team—including neuro-psychiatry—rooting for me. (And Brett, of course.)

When I decided to go back to school, my first call was to my neuro-oncologist because at any point, I could face a recurrence. I told her: “If I need brain surgery again, fine. But if it’s slower-growing, I want vorasidenib. My primary goal of care is graduation.” She said we’d cross that road when we come to it. These are the kinds of logistics you have to think through when you’re a brain tumor survivor with big plans.

Beyond medical considerations, I am also not new to navigating disability. Earlier this year I completed a 14-month slog through adaptive driver rehabilitation. I had to relearn how to drive using hand controls. It was humbling, frustrating, and exhausting. But I did it. (No blog post about this just yet—though I did submit a manuscript about this experience to a medical journal. Wish me luck.) Learning to drive using hand controls set me up for the return to school; I couldn’t make the decision to return if I couldn’t physically get there.

Truth be told, my academic path has never been linear. When most people my age were earning bachelor’s degrees, I was touring the country as a punk rock drummer (ages 17-24). Eventually, I earned an associate’s degree, while working full time in communications (ages 25-29). Just as I was preparing to transfer to a four-year university, I was diagnosed with a brain tumor. Everything changed, I started this blog, and here I am. Still.

But even while school was paused, I never stopped asking questions and learning. I became a research subject. Then a research partner. I joined study teams, designed surveys, interviewed patients, analyzed data. I co-authored peer-reviewed papers and helped shape national policy around open medical records. Along the way, I discovered something powerful: patients aren’t just participants—we’re experiential oncologists, to borrow a phrase from a friend. And I’ve got nearly two decades of experience to offer.

So what’s my plan?

I’m going to formalize the research I’ve already been doing. During the 2025–2026 academic year, I’ll complete my lower-division coursework at Sacramento City College including statistics, linguistics, symbolic logic, and research methods. These courses are the foundations I need to transfer to the major I am interested in. I won’t even mention where I want to go because I don’t want to jinx anything.

This blog post isn’t intended to sound like a shiny reinvention story. It’s a decision and an intention. A commitment. One that comes with sacrifice. My budget is tight and will only get tighter once I stop working full time. (To save money I am going to stop dying my hair fun colors and go gray!) But I’m clear about this: I want to learn, contribute, and sharpen my skills in ways that let me better serve patients, researchers, and clinicians alike.

So, here I go. Back to school. Back to textbooks and tests. But also, forward—toward the kind of researcher I’m ready to become.

Liz Salmi

Liz Salmi is Communications & Patient Initiatives Director for OpenNotes at Beth Israel Deaconess Medical Center in Boston. Over the last 15 years Liz has been: a research subject; an advisor in patient stakeholder groups; a leader in “patient engagement” research initiatives; and an innovator, educator and investigator in national educational and research projects. Today her work focuses on involving patients and care partners in the co-design of research and research dissemination. It is rumored Liz was the drummer in a punk rock band.

https://thelizarmy.com
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