OK, so here I am still on medical leave in September of 2009. Still waiting for the medications to restore me back to the way I was. You know you're pathetic when friends start suggesting faith healers and touch therapy, accupuncture, crazy diets etc. I know they have great intentions, I know I should be open to all that, but I'm conserving my energies for the treatment plan in place.
I think it's been too long since I've written, so I'm going to write more about my PA experiences here. That's a promise.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
Taking on water
If I were a boat, I would be taking on water. Got offered a new teaching load and took it, even though it's going to be so much more work, I couldn't turn down the dream course I've wanted to teach forever--Journalism.
I started the day at 4:00 a.m. yesterday, answering email etc., then do laps around the school on my crutches--exhausted by the final bell, then race across town to a work meeting, which goes on until 7:30 p.m. My focus was not to cry from pain in front of everyone, as my feet should have been put up by 4:00 p.m. I had to crawl up the stairs when I got home; sobbed from pain for a while before finally being able to put my feet up. Relax for an hour, then it was a couple more hours of preparation before falling into bed.
The EAP magnet on the side of my filing cabinet comes to mind, but who has time to get "confidential help"? A colleague came by and showed me my name on a memo about trying to find me a better arrangement than three different classrooms for three classes, but I said to just take the item off the agenda that I would "cope". And, I am coping and the students are helping, I just don't want to put another teacher out of their room. Besides, I'm going on the assumption that at some point I will feel better again.
Well, that's all the time I have, I have grades to enter as I get ready to transition one of my classes to someone else.
Cat Out
I started the day at 4:00 a.m. yesterday, answering email etc., then do laps around the school on my crutches--exhausted by the final bell, then race across town to a work meeting, which goes on until 7:30 p.m. My focus was not to cry from pain in front of everyone, as my feet should have been put up by 4:00 p.m. I had to crawl up the stairs when I got home; sobbed from pain for a while before finally being able to put my feet up. Relax for an hour, then it was a couple more hours of preparation before falling into bed.
The EAP magnet on the side of my filing cabinet comes to mind, but who has time to get "confidential help"? A colleague came by and showed me my name on a memo about trying to find me a better arrangement than three different classrooms for three classes, but I said to just take the item off the agenda that I would "cope". And, I am coping and the students are helping, I just don't want to put another teacher out of their room. Besides, I'm going on the assumption that at some point I will feel better again.
Well, that's all the time I have, I have grades to enter as I get ready to transition one of my classes to someone else.
Cat Out
Sunday, September 28, 2008
"I'm going to get through this"
In April, I woke up one morning with a sore thumb in my left hand. I went to tap class unconcerned. I was so excited that I was finally after three years of classes up on point--well, sort of--it's a bit of an optical illusion. I went for a wonderfully greasy breakfast at a downtown diner with my tap mates. I complained about my thumbie and how the pain was creeping into the rest of my hand.
Someone said, "You better get it checked out before it falls off." I laughed, but the pain was getting so bad I went straight to the walk-in clinic afterwards. The doctor was puzzled, put my on steroids, sent me for blood tests and made me promise to come back as soon as the tests came in, but the initial diagnosis was a "weird funky" form of arthritis.
A part of my brain became very practical. I contacted my next-door neighbour, who is a rheumy and got all his details for surely I would be given a referral at my next appointment. He came by immediately and said he would get me in a few days.
The blood tests were negative for RA, thank goodness, but also showed a massive inflammation in my body. I handed the doctor the business card from my neighbour. The pain and swelling had moved into my other hand, my ankles and jaw. Thus, began a long process of diagnosis and treatment--scary at first as it could have been lymphoma, sarcoidosis or other weirdness, in the end I was grateful it was psoaritic arthritis (PA), as it seemed the most palatable of the options.
The first week was hell--dragging myself to work, unable to hold the chalk, I had to ask my students to write notes on the board, but heck they have better handwriting than me anyways. After massive doses of steriods and starting on a chemo drug (methotrexate) things settled a bit, but there were frequent flareups.
By July, I needed a cane as my right ankle dragged and I was afraid I might fall. I went on a Baltic cruise, but couldn't enjoy it for the pain and fatigue. There wasn't enough relief with the pills, so now I'm on injections of two meds that are supposed to help, things started to ease off, but I woke up last Monday and couldn't walk. I called the school to let them know I'd be late as I couldn't walk and had to wait for the medical shop to open.
I got a pair of forearm crutches by 9:15 a.m. and headed into school; soldiering through the pain as usual. The stairs seemed especially cruel and taunting that day. The looks of pity and shock on my colleagues and students faces was hard to bear, as were my constant need to be upbeat and positive that it was a "temporary" situation. My fear ever present that if my hands get too bad to use the crutches, then how will I get to work? When I got home that Monday, my handicapped parking pass was in my mailbox--just in time.
This week has been more difficult than I could ever have imagined. It was hard enough with a cane with just one hand free, but now I have zero hands free. I don't remember it being so tough when I was regularly on crutches for sprained ankles as a kid, but being a grown up is a lot more complex.
I have three classes in three different classrooms and no hands to push around my cart, but that's what minions are for. I have many willing caring students who are happy to fetch my cart, fetch water, take attendance sheets down, and community service students who are now my "legs" for delivering memos and running errands. My colleagues are so very kind to watch out for me, carrying my caf tray, finding me a comfie chair in long meetings, inviting me out with them. On Friday, we went to dinner and the "Mama Mia Sing-A-Long" for some therapeutic Abba singing.
A lyric keeps running through my head, "I'm going to get through this, I'm going to get through this", but part of me is worried that the drugs aren't going to work and I'll be in a scooter soon. How can I teach when all my classes and office are on the third floor and a big part of my job is being out and about in the community with my work experience students?
I think I'm a wee bit better after resting this weekend. I long for the pool, which I'll go to this afternoon to stretch out. I dreamt of paddling my outrigger last night--woke up sad that I moved it to my parents' lake house and haven't been able to hold a paddle since that day in April, I miss my tap dance classes and friends. But I'm trying to focus on what I can do--teach, help with the new knitter's club at the school, go to movies, read, be productive and that's a lot. I'm hoping to hang on to those things.
Someone said, "You better get it checked out before it falls off." I laughed, but the pain was getting so bad I went straight to the walk-in clinic afterwards. The doctor was puzzled, put my on steroids, sent me for blood tests and made me promise to come back as soon as the tests came in, but the initial diagnosis was a "weird funky" form of arthritis.
A part of my brain became very practical. I contacted my next-door neighbour, who is a rheumy and got all his details for surely I would be given a referral at my next appointment. He came by immediately and said he would get me in a few days.
The blood tests were negative for RA, thank goodness, but also showed a massive inflammation in my body. I handed the doctor the business card from my neighbour. The pain and swelling had moved into my other hand, my ankles and jaw. Thus, began a long process of diagnosis and treatment--scary at first as it could have been lymphoma, sarcoidosis or other weirdness, in the end I was grateful it was psoaritic arthritis (PA), as it seemed the most palatable of the options.
The first week was hell--dragging myself to work, unable to hold the chalk, I had to ask my students to write notes on the board, but heck they have better handwriting than me anyways. After massive doses of steriods and starting on a chemo drug (methotrexate) things settled a bit, but there were frequent flareups.
By July, I needed a cane as my right ankle dragged and I was afraid I might fall. I went on a Baltic cruise, but couldn't enjoy it for the pain and fatigue. There wasn't enough relief with the pills, so now I'm on injections of two meds that are supposed to help, things started to ease off, but I woke up last Monday and couldn't walk. I called the school to let them know I'd be late as I couldn't walk and had to wait for the medical shop to open.
I got a pair of forearm crutches by 9:15 a.m. and headed into school; soldiering through the pain as usual. The stairs seemed especially cruel and taunting that day. The looks of pity and shock on my colleagues and students faces was hard to bear, as were my constant need to be upbeat and positive that it was a "temporary" situation. My fear ever present that if my hands get too bad to use the crutches, then how will I get to work? When I got home that Monday, my handicapped parking pass was in my mailbox--just in time.
This week has been more difficult than I could ever have imagined. It was hard enough with a cane with just one hand free, but now I have zero hands free. I don't remember it being so tough when I was regularly on crutches for sprained ankles as a kid, but being a grown up is a lot more complex.
I have three classes in three different classrooms and no hands to push around my cart, but that's what minions are for. I have many willing caring students who are happy to fetch my cart, fetch water, take attendance sheets down, and community service students who are now my "legs" for delivering memos and running errands. My colleagues are so very kind to watch out for me, carrying my caf tray, finding me a comfie chair in long meetings, inviting me out with them. On Friday, we went to dinner and the "Mama Mia Sing-A-Long" for some therapeutic Abba singing.
A lyric keeps running through my head, "I'm going to get through this, I'm going to get through this", but part of me is worried that the drugs aren't going to work and I'll be in a scooter soon. How can I teach when all my classes and office are on the third floor and a big part of my job is being out and about in the community with my work experience students?
I think I'm a wee bit better after resting this weekend. I long for the pool, which I'll go to this afternoon to stretch out. I dreamt of paddling my outrigger last night--woke up sad that I moved it to my parents' lake house and haven't been able to hold a paddle since that day in April, I miss my tap dance classes and friends. But I'm trying to focus on what I can do--teach, help with the new knitter's club at the school, go to movies, read, be productive and that's a lot. I'm hoping to hang on to those things.
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