Shanah Tovah

I sat outside on this GORGEOUS Rosh Hashana and thought about what a difference a year makes. I thought about why in this year of health, September is the most healthy I've felt in quite a while. There are a few reasons why, and they're pretty basic. They had to be basic, as I have no means or fortitude to do something extravagant.

One reason was that I made a dedication to myself. That's how this started. I decided on ME. Suck it up and move on had always been my motto. That wasn't working anymore so I had to find something better. Right around this time last year is when I found it. It was just Me, all along. That sounds so stupid and self-serving and I'm OK with that.  It's what I needed.

Prior to therapy, I could not have admitted that. I would have beaten myself up for it, called myself selfish, and generally looked poorly at myself. After therapy? Don't care! Also, as a woman of a certain age...Don't care!  It's all about me, baby. OK, that's a bit much, but you get the idea. It's the O2 mask on a crashing plane concept, except I was the plane. 

Last year I reconnected (in person, no less!) with friends I hadn't seen in a while and it was great. It really was wonderful. Of course, we've stayed in contact via social media, but seeing my high school and college friends face to face was amazing. Part of this wellness kick I've been on can be attributed to them. Actually, they were the impetus. Thank you. 

Another reason I'm feeling better is that I left teaching. That was so hard. Just an unfathomably difficult decision. My therapist is a proponent of Pro/Con lists and she helped me work through this. It was quite a lopsided list so I went for it and I don't miss the classroom at all. 

I F&*@ing LOVE my job. I don't have the Sunday Scaries anymore. I don't lose sleep over other people's kids. I'm still in education and see the students every day, which was important to me. I actually look forward to going to work every single day. I have first-grade lunch duty and they are adorable. I had one girl ask me for a piece of ketchup last week. 

An additional reason for the better health, and one I find interesting, is that now my insides are taken care of, I want my outsides to match. I want to look outwardly, like I feel inwardly.  I want to tone up, wear clothes that actually fit, improve my posture, put effort (minor effort) into my hair and makeup, clean up these scars* on my legs, and in the meantime, be happy with how I am right now. 

I've got my insides medically checked out from head to toe, it's time to work on the outside. 95% of my meetings are on Zoom and I need to step it up a bit. 

I spent today giving myself a home salon day. Not as good as Salon Salon from the pics I've seen (Hi, Sarah!). I did a manicure with new nail colors for Fall, including CHOPPING THEM ALL OFF. I love short nails with dark polish in the colder months. I realize Halloween witches are supposed to have long, pointy nails, but this witch likes them short and dark. Since it's still flip-flop weather the toenails are also freshly painted. I can't stand unpainted toes in open-toed shoes. Bleh. 

The grey is covered again. Every other month I contemplate just letting it all go grey and I can't bring myself to do it. If I knew my hair would turn out as beautiful as some of my friends' full grey I'd do it (looking at you, Sue). I like color in my own hair. I don't have a dedicated brand or color. I grab the box off the shelf according to my mood. I don't think I'll use this brand again, though. It smells like the Spic and Span we used to scrub the kitchen floor as kids. On our hands and knees. Uphill both ways. In the snow.

  

I have a friend, Denise, who writes very insightful posts every Sunday morning and I look forward to them each week. They make me think and sometimes giggle. She is always OK with how she is right now. If not, she does a great job hiding it. I had my own thought this week and it reminded me of something my friend would say. When you feel safe, you feel comfortable. You can BE comfortable. 

You may need to pop outside of your surroundings to find the safety you need to be comfortable. Maybe you need to create that space inside where you already exist. Create your own safe space. Create your own comfortable. Make sure you have somewhere that you can be YOU: A friend's house, a cafe open mike night, a secret social media account, a D&D club, a rock band, an Only Fans account. There's only one you. Make it a good one. 

Happy New Year

*I am one of those people who attracts mosquitos. I've also become allergic to them (and crabs, which sucks). I have 103 mosquito bites from my waist down and bruising due to the furious scratching of said bites. The scabs are coming off and the bruises are healing, but now there are scars. Age does weird things to a body, and I've noticed scars are taking an extremely long time to fade. Here's hoping Palmer's skin therapy oil works. Could be worse; I could have malaria.

 

TMI (You Were Warned)

Summer started with a bang this month, and I kinda hope it continues.  I checked out on Monday's last day of school, happy to be done, and tinged with a bit of sadness for the unknown of the next school year. 

My first day of summer is typically spent sleeping late, eating junk, and watching crap TV all day.  Instead, I was up early for a job interview (!) that I attended over Zoom in the local Starbucks because it was raining. Because of where I live, my Internet comes through a dish on my roof. When it rains, the Internet stops working. It wouldn't have been so bad, but in the middle of my interview, the Starbucks playlist spit out Let It Go, and while Idina Menzel is an incredible singer, that's all anyone on the Zoom call could hear. I wasn't happy about the rest of the interview, either. I felt like I was on edge the whole time. So I got to obsess about that. 

Wednesday, I was back on my road to better health.  My GYN made a passing mention of a procedure back in March, and I half-heartedly agreed to it, fully intending to not do it.  As it turns out, she contacted the doctor, who contacted me. Fine. I'll do it. I'll make a blog post out of it.  

That's how I ended up with a colonoscopy appointment. 

The prep for this started the week before the procedure. No fruits or veggies, seeds, or nuts for the whole week. I eat fruit every day and salads, seeds, and nuts several days each week. Good thing cheese and ice cream are low in fiber. 

I woke up Thursday and had 2 hard-boiled eggs and coffee. That was it, my last supper (breakfast). No more solid food. My human nurse ran out and picked up Jello, bullion, broth, Sprite, and popsicles. Two Jello cups and a bowl of bullion later and I was ready to begin.  

At 3 pm I took 4 Dulcolax tablets and prepared for the worst. At 3:30, the worse commenced. I had to drink 64 oz of water mixed with an 18 oz bottle of Miralax, 8 oz at a time every 20 minutes.  Tasteless but tedious. At 9 pm I took 2 Gas-X pills and immediately threw up. Before this, the Miralax had started to work its magic, and at this point, I was eliminating from both ends simultaneously. The whole thing takes a lot out of a person (no pun intended).  Imagine eating Taco Bell for three days and having it all leave your body at once. Luckily my feline nurse was unfazed by all and accompanied me on every trip to the bathroom. She was very helpful. 

I crawled into bed at 11 hoping for a few hours of sleep before I had to get up at 4. I nodded off for 30 mins and suddenly awoke to...leakage. Before you fall asleep while doing the prep, make sure you're all done visiting the bathroom.  Also, make sure your feline nurse isn't sleeping on top of you so that you don't fling her off when you jump out of bed.

Four in the morning is too early to be doing anything other than getting home from a night out with a stop at the diner.  Unfortunately, those days are probably behind me and now 4 in the morning is for drinking 10 oz of magnesium citrate. Super delicious. 

Everyone was right: The prep was the toughest part. They wheeled me in, gave me the IV, and rolled me on my side. The last thing I remember was looking up at the monitor and excitedly asking if I was going to be able to watch the procedure. Then they woke me up and wheeled me to Recovery. Never again. Maybe if they find a way to do this via CT scan or PET scan I'll reconsider. 

That was just week one of summer. Week two was just as fun. And maddening. 

During the school year, I was summoned to jury duty. There was no way I was taking time off from work to do this. Finding a sub for one day to take my class (or anyone's class) is impossible. Cecil County signs you up for a week of possible duty. Nope. I asked to change the dates of service and scheduled it for the week after school let out. I was thrilled to find out every night when I called in, that I wasn't needed. I didn't even have to go to the courthouse. Instead, I got caught up on things around the house and accomplished some baking and cooking. So much better than sitting in the basement of the courthouse with a bunch of strangers. 

On Saturday I ran my first 5k in three years. I was excited and nervous. My goals were to finish and enjoy myself. I accomplished that and I am looking forward to next month's race. I just hope my nephew isn't embarrassed when I smoke him on the course. I'll let him have my beer in consolation.

On the other hand, that week was infuriating. The gun debate and Roe v. Wade debate were both ruled on at the end of the week. SCOTUS expanded gun rights and diminished abortion rights. So 6 judges are representing their base, and not the actual people of the country. They feel the unborn should be protected, but then screw you all thereafter.

A woman humiliated or devastated by rape, incest, ectopic pregnancy, or any other reason, including religious (AND IT'S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS) may have no choice now other than a risky procedure, traveling to a distant state, or forced birth. This is disgusting. Many women (and yes, some men) will be seriously injured or die because of this. It will put additional strain on our healthcare and social services. The physical and mental health of the adults, the physical health of the children, the lack of foster homes and people willing to adopt (and the laws that make it illegal for some to adopt--god forbid the gayness rubs off on the child), the abusive home situations, education resources, poverty and crime resources...it's all too much. 

Maybe now that gun restrictions are easing up, that will help take care of these problems. 

I suppose My Body, My Choice applies only to masks and vaccines. 

Finally, I wrapped up the beginning of my summer with a mammogram this morning. Why not, right? Let's get all this stuff out of the way at once. It's very classy to flop your cat-scratched boob up on a tray while simultaneously leaning in with your shoulder and bending backward and sticking your butt out to get the rest of you out of the way. 

So to sum up: No polyps and no cancer, I got the job!!!!!!!, no jury duty for a while, I'm back to running races, this country is insane, and my boobs hurt. 

See you next month.

The Nether Yay-ya and a Possible Change

Welcome back to "Things I didn't really want to know about this girl."  This month's health update is brought to you by the letters G Y N. 

It's been so long since I've been to that doctor that the first thing she said upon walking into the room was, "So why haven't you been to the doctor in 20 years?"  Um.  'Cause I don't use it often and I've never rented the womb out to anyone?  'Cause I'm very very lucky to be so healthy?  'Cause I just kept putting it off?  All unacceptable answers. 

It wasn't as bad as I anticipated, of course.  She's a lovely woman and a former middle school teacher.  Although, she did tell me to get a colonoscopy due to my advanced years.  And not the talking box on television, but a real colonoscopy.  Everything looked good and she thanked me for staying in the profession.  That made me feel nice.  Like I was appreciated.  

Yeah.  About that. 

This is my classroom by the numbers:

9 students, 3 grade levels, 7 push-in rooms, 2 languages, 4 disability classifications, 6 curriculums, 5 behavior charts, 28 IEP goals.  (Edited to add: 11 students, 33 IEP goals)

This isn't to brag or toot any horns.  This is to show you what goes on in classrooms across the country.  This is only part of the reason why teachers are burnt out and leaving.  Throw in challenging behaviors, minimal support from home, district admin/DOE not having an idea what actually goes on in classrooms...I could go on.  It's a recipe for therapy.  

I have much to think about.  Do I want to keep doing this to myself?  Do I want to put up with all the negative for very little positive?  I thought I was doing this for the rest of my working days.  Now I'm not sure.  The catalyst for this change of heart, the straw that broke this camel's back, was a meeting on Friday that I still can't let go of.  I'm still irritated.  I still get upset when I think about it or talk about it. 

That Student, for those who follow along on the Facebook, is quite a struggling learner.  I am supplementing his fourth-grade math with 1st-grade math. He is unable to do this work independently. I asked him last week to solve 0-0.  He told me it's 5.  In an effort to make his life easier, I requested we apply for modified curriculum and alternative assessments during this year's IEP meeting.

In order for this to happen, you have to meet certain criteria.  He meets the criteria of a cognitive struggle, but because he's socially competent and can take care of his basic needs, he does not qualify. 

The child who asked me if we were playing bingo, WHILE WE WERE PLAYING BINGO, the child who asked how to hold up 14 fingers, the child who can not solve 1st grade math problems as a 4th grader, does not qualify for modified curriculum, because a piece of paper said so.  A checklist, a piece of paper, knows more about what my kid needs than I do. Some random person, who probably hasn't been in the classroom in years (if ever) created a checklist that knows more about my kid than I do.  

To add insult to injury, That Student's mom, who was at home Zooming in to this meeting, was watching TV throughout the meeting.  We were discussing the possibility of her child not pursuing the diploma track and she was watching TV.  

Why am I even here?  Why am I even doing this?  Clearly they should be paying the checklist my salary, and if I have no concern/interest from the parent, what's the point...............I want to scream.

I'm tired. I don't want to struggle for other people's kids anymore.  I'm tired of doing all the work.  I'm tired of the parent apathy.  I'm sick of the higher-ups being more concerned about math posters and pacing than the well-being of the students. I'm tired of being selfless and "doing it for the kids."  I'm tired of advocating for my kids and getting no results.  I'm sick to death of challenging behaviors occurring daily and no real consequences being leveled.  We are setting some of these kids up for failure and nobody seems to see it.  

I did some exploring on Indeed last night and there are several options in the areas I'm interested.  Of course I need to finish out the school year so that gives me time to weigh things out and decide what I truly want to do.  I did briefly consider Starbucks barista and Wawa employee, but I'd eventually weigh 400 lbs. and spend my salary on product.

So much to think about. Any and all opinions are welcome. This is not a decision I will take lightly.

Anyway...my gynecological tests came back negative for all things icky. Shout out to my parents for giving me such healthy DNA.