My Glorious Return to Clinical Research

Remember that time I handed in my notice and became a writer, for the bants? Turning 30 was a fucking trip, lads. Now, prepare to be shook. I’ve returned to work in clinical research. OH Y’ALL WANTED A TWIST?

Come on GCP, let’s get S I C K E N I N G*.

*Fully compliant.

It’s true. I’ve started up again as a CTA, which might seem a bit strange (more on that later), but I want you to know that I’m really happy to return to a role and industry that feels like home.

You probably have some questions. Using advanced analytics (guessing) I’ve put together a FAQ section, because I’m that extra.


You’ve given up on writing?

Absolutely not. I’ve thoroughly enjoyed the past two years, and even if time travel became commercially viable, I wouldn’t change my decision to pursue writing.

The thing is, being a full-time professional writer doesn’t leave a lot of scope for extracurricular wordplay. After a full day of putting sentences together, I’d rather just point at things and make indistinguishable sounds.

I miss blogging. I wish I had time to actually finish the novel I’ve had in my brain for years. I hope that the separation of work and writing will help me to find that spark again.


What’s the career plan?

To be satisfied with the work that I do. No complication, no pressure. Oh, and a healthy shoe fund.


Isn’t it a step down from what you used to do?

In terms of usual career progression, yes. The majority of people in clinical research wouldn’t move from monitoring to a CTA role. That’s completely understandable, if your goal is to keep progressing.

I was a monitor for four years. I had a good go at it, and ultimately it wasn’t for me. I was much happier in a CTA role, because it was interesting, fun, and relatively straightforward.

As a CTA (or ROA, in PXL parlance), I had a clear distinction between work and life. I went into the office, did my job, engaged in quality banter, and at the end of each day, I had optimal time to do life things.

When I became a monitor, those lines steadily and persistently blurred. It’s the nature of the job, and to make accommodating sacrifices, you must either really enjoy monitoring, or view it as a temporary measure on the way to a clinical lead, project management, or line management role.

For me, neither applied. I liked aspects of the job, and I couldn’t have asked for better people to work with. But ultimately, it wasn’t right for me.

And that’s OK! Not everyone will have the tenacity and stamina for monitoring, nor the desire to take on further responsibility in a senior role. I enjoy being a CTA, and I’m actually pretty good at it. I bladdy love site files, and don’t even get me started on the delightful intricacy of TMF naming conventions. Exquisite.


Didn’t you enjoy the flexibility of freelancing?

Totally. I liked being my own boss, and choosing my working hours, but there are downsides.

Firstly, I took a huge drop in pay. Money isn’t everything, but it’s much easier to espouse that sentiment when you have plenty of dollah. I learned a lot about budgeting and self-restraint over the past two years. However, I’m also conscious of long-term financial independence. I can’t buy my own place on a writer’s salary. I can’t treat my friends and family as much as I want to. I also have my eyes on about 5 pairs of shoes. My new job won’t have me rolling in millions (yet), but I’ll be able to put money away for my future while enjoying the present.

Which is a nice segue to the next point. Pensions! Paid leave! Bank holidays! If you want them, it’s on you to factor them in. I’ve been reluctant to take time off because the prospect of losing a chunk of revenue is a big yikes. Which isn’t a healthy attitude. And as my parents have recently retired, I’ve become fixated on pensions. Employer contributions? Stunning.

Finally, security. Specifically, Etta James – Security.mp3. Wait, I mean job security. I was fortunate to have a brilliant client who gave me lots of work, as well as some other regular gigs. But there’s a clause in every freelancer contract that effectively says a client is not obliged to give you work. And that lean month can arrive when you least expect it. Good planning and saving helps, but it’s also pretty scary – and I say this as someone with scant responsibilities. Although some of my fashion choices might suggest otherwise, I’m a pretty risk-averse queen.

In short; yes and no. Long story long.


Are You Going to Change Your Mind Again?

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

OK, honestly? I don’t think I’ll change my mind. I’ve experienced both careers and there’s so much I’ve enjoyed about each one. But I view them as extremes; on one hand, the chaos of monitoring, and on the other, the thrilling uncertainty of being a writer.

You know what’s fierce? The middle ground. A role that’s challenging and interesting, without causing anxiety. A job that I can do really well, and leave alone at the end of each working day. An opportunity to find balance and write when I want to. Moderates, amirite?


Three months into my new job, I can honestly say that I'm happy with my choice. Everyone is so nice, patient, and helpful, and although I'm still learning new systems and processes, I feel confident in my ability to do the job well. And that sense of self-achievement radiates into the rest of my life, which is a real blessing.