This is War

I had the most fun and interesting and exhausting day the other day at work. As each round of shots is given in our school district,  the people receiving them are often ill the next day; thus leaving an entire school district short on substitutes. When this happens, we all step in to cover classrooms while still trying to perform all the other duties we are supposed to take care of every day. I was tired. I'm always tired. I think the world is tired. It was one of those mornings I would have called in sick if I didn't already have the feeling I would be needed that day. I dragged  myself out of bed, did my hour of yoga, and hauled my sorry rear to school. Upon getting there I could tell immediately that all areas of our school would be running short-staffed. I clocked in and made it out of the main office without being "caught" and headed to my office. I was wearing an outfit without any pockets to keep my phone in, and as I grabbed it out of my school bag, I could see the office of my school had been calling. Then I knew I was on the line, and that I needed to gather all my strength to go face the day. Now let's be clear-I LOVE MY JOB! I love the kids, I love the environment, I love the fulfillment, and I love the people. But I also have a set schedule each day in which I have to complete many various tasks all over the school. It is a hectic schedule without anything extra. We all joke that we need bathroom passes like we give to the kids-because there are days you can't find time to make it up the hallway to the restroom. You just push the thought of a break out of your mind and hope you get everything done in the amount of time you have been given. 

At any rate, I went to receive my instructions and get going on my day. I found out I was going to kindergarten! I love kindergarten, but I know it takes loads of energy to keep up with those kiddos, especially in a year where we are bending to mandates and experiencing one-to-one electronics in teaching. Luckily, a couple of my co-workers were already in there for groups and were monumental in me getting a good start. We tried to make sense of the schedule and how we could fit everything that we needed to cover along with making sure our kindergarteners were taken care of. Let me just say I work with some of the finest, most wonderful people on the planet. Everyone involved in making this day work was kind, accommodating and supportive. Understand that if I am covering something that is not one of my usual assignments, there is always another person or persons that will be affected. Someone always loses something. But because I have this incredible work village, we got it ironed out. And for the most part, I got to be in Kindergarten for the day. 

I am a person who is in no way perfect, but it really helps me to perform well if I know what is coming and I have a schedule or outline that I have been able to spend time figuring out. The teacher I subbed for is magnificent, and had a very detailed schedule for me. My only problem was trying to decipher it while taking care of 25 five year olds. Let's be fair, some of them are six year olds! But figuring out 4 pages of instruction while trying to keep that many kids safe and focused proved to be a little rough. I think I did most of what was needed. No one was bleeding or crying when they went home....

Actually we had a pretty good morning. We had fun, we got work done, everyone went home in one piece, and I got to experience those precious souls. I felt pretty good as I walked in the door from getting kids safely to their rides, and realized I had to sanitize the whole room and then go take care of my 3rd grade lunch and recess. I am not complaining. It makes a day go by fast when you're on the move like that, and I got to enjoy it, to boot. But I had to hustle. I got the room looking quite sparkly and headed to the lunchroom, happy to see my 3rd graders. All the while I was thinking to myself, "As soon as this is over, I get to go have round two in kindergarten. I hope I'm still standing when the day is over." Ha!

Yes, I am still recovering from my little death debacle in December. It is hard for me to accept that this will be an ongoing thing for me well after Covid is gone. Once that mandate has ended,  my lungs still have to recover for a good 6-12 months sans the mask. I have to nap daily, and I am not a sleeper. I am a GOER. I like to get stuff done. Rest is good, but I hate having to do it so often. I realized I had much more ahead of me than behind me,  so I prayed I would make it. 

Moving on..... the afternoon went well. My comrades in arms helped again, and by the time my kindergarteners were ready to come in from recess, I only had 30 more minutes to get through. 

Of course, I had 4 kids crying when they came in. It was time for math, but the whole class was up in arms, telling me who had done what, screaming and crying and pointing fingers. Hysteria ensued for just a minute. When the name calling began, being me, I called a cease-fire and settled them in for a serious little life lesson in kindness. We talked and the talk was good. We learned about opposing character traits. That we all have them. That just because someone has a bad moment, it doesn't mean they are bad. It means they had a moment of a less appealing trait arise, and that there also is an opposing trait in them that is good. Sometimes these traits are at war with each other, and we have to decide which one will win. Which one we want others to remember. There were some mighty grown up thoughts that came out of the mouths of the babes in that class. It humbled me. It gave me perspective and gratitude and faith in the future. I was blessed to be in with those precious souls that day. Math wasn't as long as the lesson plans called for, but we got a lot of important work done in kindergarten. And I am grateful. 

Die Another Day

I know it has been awhile. I honestly have not been able to gather the energy to focus my thoughts on... well...anything. My head is heavy. I am slow. I am behind. I don't do much but go to work. I have to save the mask wearing for work, so I don't get to go to church or shopping or anything because it takes too much out of me to wear it everywhere. I have become a homebody, and I feel like I am missing out on life, though conditions aren't letting many of us go live anyway. Not in the way we should be. But I do  realize I left everyone with kind of a cliffhanger with my last blog  https://paisleyglasses.blogspot.com/2021/, so I am here to make amends. I have been called out, and I apologize it has taken me this long to write again. 

First things first. I am doing fine. I am not healthy,  but I am also not dead, or on the brink of death. I will say my family and I are all suffering from some PTSD. When my breath gets short and my chest feels tight I panic-not as much as I did the first month after my episode, but it still comes. I am still not above 70% of my lung capacity, but I am gaining a little bit of strength and my oxygen concentrator helps. It's the first thing I do when I wake up and the first thing I do when I come home from work; turn that puppy on and breathe that oxygen in. I don't love being tied to something like that when I am only 50 years old, although Chad did get me a 50 foot hose so I can go anywhere in the house and still be getting oxygen, and I am truly grateful for it. I huff and puff more than I want to, and it makes me nervous, but I am learning how to somewhat manage my waves of terror. Putting anything over my face makes me shake...literally...and I have to take Xanax before I put anything on on to go into work. My daughters get a look of alarm if they see I am struggling to breathe, and cling to me a little tighter. I cling to them a little tighter as well. And poor Chad, who literally held my life in his hands, and was responsible for bringing me back to it, well....he's a hero. He holds it in well but he watches me closely and I can see the terror come back to haunt him. We get daily reminders-and flashbacks. But daily doses of faith and gratitude as well. 

People have been good to me. I have had friends check on me regularly, co-workers and people in church who have been willing to take over some of my responsibilities when I have to rest, and bosses and supervisors who have been very understanding and accommodating. I hate feeling weak. We all do. I work very hard to make conscious efforts for my health and stay physically strong. This one caught me unawares. When something of this magnitude happens and your life flickers out for a moment, your first impulse isn't to run around telling everyone about it, but you tell the people who you know it will most immediately affect and the people who know something big went on at your house.  I have tried to put as much information out there as I thought was needed, but not run around telling everyone I have already had a death date. Yes, that is what my doctor said...."Do you realize you already have a death date? Hopefully your next one will be a long time from now." It's sobering, and humbling, but also wonderful that I can be able to say I made it through my first one. At any rate, I am understanding that more people were affected by learning of my experience than I thought. Friends. Neighbors. Clergy. Even some of my kiddos at school have heard from their parents or people in their neighborhoods or other adults, and they have been worried without me even knowing. I had a group of kids today that showed me just how distraught they were. It broke my heart and made me feel loved all at the same time. We had a big discussion about health and miracles and caring about people. Not a lot of reading was done, but a lot of learning and character growth was accomplished in that room-not only for those kids, but for me as well. There were a lot of feels in that room. It was an exercise of trust, respect, and care. We bonded. I'm grateful for it. I have always had an open heart, but that made it crack wide open. 

I realize that I frightened people. It was not by my own choosing, but it happened just the same. It scared me more than I can convey. It terrified me. It terrified my family. It showed me that God loves me and that I am strong in spite of all I have gone through. If you found out after the fact and it hurt you that you didn't know, I am sorry. I was literally in survival mode. If it scared you that you almost lost me, I am sorry, but I am here. I plan on staying as long as the Good Lord lets me. 

So, for now, I am taking each new day. Some days feel somewhat normal. Some days I can't get out of bed, or even catch my breath. Some days my heart acts up because my oxygen levels are low, and some days, my lungs are so happy because we have a green air day and I get to be outside for recess. Some days I get more done than others, and some days I'm lucky if all I do is make it through work. Most days I long for fresh ocean air on beautiful warm beaches, where I can soak up the moisture from the sea air and gulp in as much oxygen as my body can handle. But all days I am grateful. For life, for love, for friends. for miracles, for oxygen machines and doctors, and care. All days I am grateful for family, my job, my community, and my faith. All days, I count the miracles. All days I look UP....even when my body is dragging me down. All days I am grateful for ALL the things I CAN do. All days I love. All days I care. All days I want to be the good. All days I am grateful.

And as a post note, but not really, because it has touched all of us so deeply, THANK YOU. Thank you for making me feel worth your time and effort and love and offers. Thank you for calls and cards and food and texts. Thank you for checking on my family as well. Thank you for being the Lord's hands in helping to take care of my family and of me-for showing us the good. For being the Good. YOU HAVE MADE A DIFFERENCE. WE LOVE YOU.